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sinofwriting · 1 year ago

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Private Professor - Max Verstappen

Words: 5,576 Summary: For years and years, Max has claimed that he has a girlfriend, but no one has ever met her and he refuses to talk about her with the media. And it’s far easier to believe that he’s lying when no proof of a girl exists. Note(s)/Warning(s): Small Age Gap (Reader is nearly two years younger), Some Angst, Mostly Fluff, Jos Verstappen. Thank you so much to the anon that requested this! I had a lot of fun writing it!

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At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship is all blood rushing to their cheeks, fluttering hands, kisses that last too long and not long enough, panting breaths, and hickeys below shirt collars. It’s whispers of forever, of I’ll take you here and there. That house will be ours one day. Whatever you want, you’ll have. I’ll be on break, you’ll come home and I’ll be waiting. You’ll follow me everywhere and I’ll do the same.

It’s promises they don’t realize they shouldn’t be making but do. It’s sweet nothings and petty fights that last a day before they’re back in each other's arms. It’s pretending not to notice how his dad watches him amused as he walks calmly out of the door before sprinting over to her house and sneaking into her bedroom. It’s her parents pretending not to hear the thud of him falling into her bedroom and the light giggles their daughter makes.

At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship changes. It’s no longer seeing each other when he doesn’t have a race or training and is home, no Red Bull duties to be done. It’s long phone calls, texts, snapchat streaks, learning how to video call. It’s carrying two power banks with them everywhere and Max buying them both expensive phone cases that charge their phones. It’s falling asleep on the phone while the other is just beginning their day. He attends classes with her, while she listens to him train. He goes to red bull meetings and pretends not to have the light sound of breathing in his ears from her falling asleep while studying or doing her homework.

Fifteen and seventeen, brings them peace. She’s still studying like a mad woman at Harvard of all places, but he’s got an F1 seat of all things. He’s in F1. He suddenly has more things to do but more free time. When he’s not racing or at the factory or doing weird press things that make him want to rip his hair out, Jos is putting him on a plane to America, to her. And he soaks up all the time with her he can, despite it being filled with her studying, attending classes, and forcing actual food down her throat which her parents both thank him for.

It also brings the stupidest thing in the world; the doubt and disbelief that he has a girlfriend.

Carlos is the first to bring it up upon seeing his home screen that’s just all black, not even the default that iphone has.

“No girlfriend?” Max frowns at him, pocketing his phone and sending a glance over to where his father is standing and talking to his race engineer. “What?” “Your home screen, it’s all black. You don’t have a girlfriend?” Carlos is teasing, joking. The whole paddock already knows that Jos Verstappen wouldn’t let his son have a girlfriend, not now when he’s got an F1 seat. Such a thing would be a distraction and Max isn’t allowed those. Max isn’t allowed friends on the grid either. Carlos wonders though how much the last part is just a Jos thing. “I do.” Then he says her name, all soft and sweet in a way Carlos never thought Max could be. It’s nearly enough for him to believe Max, but then he catches a glimpse of Jos and shakes his head, clapping the seventeen year old on the back.

He is the first to not believe Max, but far from the last. It’s Daniel next, Christian, Esteban, Pierre, Sebastian, Lando, every interviewer that asks.

It doesn’t matter because at seventeen and nineteen, she gets her second degree and begins the nightmare of getting her doctorates in education and history. And he picks out a ring before making his father hide it away. And instead of him constantly flying to her, she’s flying to him. Hiding out in his Monaco apartment, turning his living room into a disaster zone as she spreads her things around to study.

The mess drives him crazy, but he doesn’t move anything no matter how much his hands itch to do so, instead just pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pressing himself in between her and the couch. Grinning when she sends him a look, a clear don’t be a distraction, before giving him a kiss.

His days in Monaco when she’s there are spent in the living room after training, playing fifa or watching some documentary for one of her classes with her, and poking at her lightly because he doesn’t know shit about history but he’s still able to remember countries quicker than her.

They turn eighteen and twenty and nearly get married when her family goes on vacation to Vegas, dragging the two along despite them not being able gamble, which is the only reason her parents had chosen Vegas. The only thing that stops them from getting married is him not being a US citizen and her visa just being for school. It’s a fucking wakeup call for him and he can’t help but pester her about places in Monaco to live.

She entertains it for all of five minutes before she’s cupping his face and kissing him. When she pulls back, she’s shaking her head. “As long as it has you and four bedrooms, I don’t care.” “Four?” “We’ll need our own offices and a guest room.”

It’s barely anything for the real estate agent to work with but he doesn’t care. He wants something that’s at least four bedrooms, two baths, a decent kitchen, and a view. She liked the Monaco sunrise and sunset and he planned on letting her be able to see it anytime they stayed in Monaco.

His agent gets back to him in a week and he ignores the look on Daniel’s face when he comes over for the first time. Ignores the jokes about it being too big for one person just like Daniel ignores him saying that he has a girlfriend.

“If you had one, I’d have seen a picture of her mate. The whole world would.”

Max still remembers the way his jaw had twitched at the thing everyone said. That if he had a girlfriend, they’d have seen a picture of her, that he’d be showing her off every second, have her at the races, been seen with her. When Max had made it abundantly clear that the worst part of driving was the media, the fame. So why would he ever subject someone he loves to that when they both weren’t ready for that?

Because they weren’t. He wasn’t ready for another part of his life, one of the most important parts, to be something for everyone to look at and dissect. And she wasn’t ready for it either. Not when she was doing so much studying. She barely felt like she had time for him, which he denied and hated vehemently, she didn’t have time for the online vitriol of being a girlfriend to a high profile athlete. And she didn’t need to be harassed as she attended classes and studies groups and such if someone recognized her and didn’t like that she was with him.

Not showing any pictures or videos of her was also easy for him. It wasn’t because he didn’t have any, he had hundreds. But they were pictures and videos of her, only meant for him. Not because they were dirty in nature, though some were, but because how she was in them was something only she allowed him to see. It was photos of her with a finger pressed to her top lip as she glared at her books, videos of her sitting on something too tall for her feet to touch the ground and letting them swing. It was her smiling at him, all fond, shy and in love.

It was them wrapped up in each other's arms and love. Her in between his legs or the other way around. Her sitting on his lap as Vic stole his phone to video them laughing and exchanging kisses. Her giggles as she tries not to fall asleep as reads her books to him over facetime. It’s her in her purest form and he doesn’t want the people in his life who are so quick and sure to not believe him to get to see that.

Nineteen and twenty-one, she officially co-owns their place in Monaco and he starts scouting out property in Belgium and land in France that’s somewhat close to the principality he lives in. It was too early to start building a house to live in forever, not when they weren’t sure what they wanted to live in forever with their kids, but it wasn’t too early to buy the land for it.

It also leads to their biggest fight in years.

“Max!” Her nails are digging into her arms. “I’m not saying that. I’m saying that I want to help, that I can pay. I have money!” “And you don’t need to!” He’s yelling as well, face red with anger. “I’ve got money too! You don’t need to pay for shit when I can.” She shakes her head. “Really? Is that how it's always going to be? I won’t ever get to pay for anything? Just have a salary and trust fund wasting away.” She scoffs, giving another shake of her head. “Is it about being the breadwinner? Because don’t worry Max, I’m well aware that you’ll always have more money than me. Doesn’t mean I can’t contribute to our life.” “Fuck.” He murmurs seeing the tears brimming in her eyes but not falling, the hurt in her words. “It’s not about that at all. It’s not about being the breadwinner.” “Then what is it about?” Her voice is high pitched. “You won’t let me pay for a single thing! I can’t buy groceries without you slipping money back into my wallet. I can’t help pay the bills and now you won’t let me help buy the land that will have our house on it. What is it about Max?” “You’re mine.” Her eyes widened at his quiet but firm tone. “You’re my girlfriend, the love of my life. One day my wife and the mother of my children.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, feeling words and feelings he’s only ever really let come out during sex or when they're both so drunk they barely remember anything the next day. “I want to pay for everything because it’s providing for you, it’s making sure you’re eating, sleeping somewhere safe, getting the best, most accommodating flights. It’s knowing that I’m providing for my family.”

“Max,” she breathes out, arms falling away from her chest and then she’s moving closer, resting a hand over his racing heart. “You want to provide for me?” He nods. “For our future kids?” “Yes.” “So do I. So, we’re going to work on this. You want to buy the land, you can.” He looks at her distrusting, because this didn’t sound like working on it. “But, I get to pay for groceries when I go out for them, without you paying me back. I get to pay for netflix because I use it more and spotify.” She adds. He frowns at her. “I don’t like it.” “Too bad and I’m not done. In return, you get to pay the bills, put gas in the car for me,” he grins at that. “Pay for my flights and we are going to open a joint account to put an equal amount of money in every month. For things like vacations, anniversary dinners, and the kids. Because it’s important that I get to help provide for them too. And when we build that house together, I want to pay at least half of the contracting fee. I’ll let you pay for the rest.” “I want to pay for any of the kids' interests. Like art, ballet or karting.” “No deal.” She shakes her head and he’s frowning again. “You can pay for all the karting, it will mean more. But I want it out of the shared account for the other things. Unless,” she pauses. “Unless,” he encourages. “If any of them decides to go to university early like me, I want to pay fully for it.” “No.” It’s quick and now she’s frowning as well. “It’s our children and their education. Shared account.” “Their first degree.” He shakes his head. “And if it’s their only degree?” Her brows press together, it was a good point. Just because they decided to go to university early like her didn’t mean they’d go for more than one degree. “First year.” His eyes narrow as he looks at her, but he nods. “First year. But only of the first degree.” “First degree only.” She agrees.

It’s quiet between them before Max lets his face soften, lips twisting slightly into a smile. “Are we done fighting?” She laughs, but nods. “Yeah. We’re done fighting.” “Thank god.” He breathes, pulling her into his arms and burying his face into the crook of her neck. “Let’s not do that again.” “Not anytime soon at least.” “I love you.” He murmurs. “I love you too.”

Twenty and twenty-two has their families asking when exactly they’re getting married, wondering why there isn’t a ring on her finger and their only saving grace is their time spent in Monaco together away from them all. But when it gets to be too much as pressure builds as she tries to finish her doctorate in education while still working on her doctorate for history, it’s Jos that steps in for her and Max.

The three of them shared a complicated relationship. She could never like him for the parent he was to Max growing up. From the near abuse he hurled at him when he failed, the pressure he put on a child, the leaving him in a foreign country for a few hours when he wasn’t even a teenager more than once. But she did love him, because Max loved him and in his own way he loved Max and he showed that with his support of their relationship when everyone expected for him to have a problem with it, label it as a distraction. And now as a few years had passed and Max was comfortable in his F1 seat, he was Max’s fiercest defender, unwilling to back down, but would if Max told him too. And he was her fiercest defender as well. Glaring at jokes about her not needing a degree with the money Max made, not forcing her to join on trips when she was busy with school or questioning her support of Max because she didn’t attend races.

So, neither Max or her are surprised when Jos steps in when her grandparents are trying to back them into a corner as to why she doesn’t have a ring on her finger and how they have a number for a wedding planner and she should really give her a call, when all they want is to get breakfast before retreating to their room so she can resume her studies while Max hovers around her while going over his own work.

She hadn’t been thrilled at first when she learned that Jos would join them on the trip, knowing that Sophie wouldn’t be there, but now she was grateful and she made sure to squeeze his shoulder before leaving the kitchen and scheduled a nice quiet dinner for herself, Max and Jos as thanks.

The media becomes relentless when they’re twenty-two and twenty-four and Max wins his first championship. Because there is no girlfriend in sight despite the now champions thanks for her support and love. They tear Max apart for creating a fake girlfriend that has no name or face, call him unloveable with his fake championship. Some tear her apart as well, calling her gold digger, selfish, undeserving, fans of Max and the sport do as well.

It was supposed to be a happy moment for him, one of if not the best in his life, but it’s tainted, ruined, and as soon as he’s home with her in Monaco, all she can do is hold him and pretend that the texts from his friends begging him to go out and get laid don’t make her cry later in the shower.

Despite the texts and a bold one from Daniel about hiring him a prostitute, she forces Max to go out, to celebrate with the drivers in Monaco, to get drunk and have fun, and forget what the media is saying about him.

“I’m coming back if one of them even hints at a prostitute.” He tells her and she laughs, but she knows that he’s serious. He’s never even once considered cheating on her and one of their first serious fights had been about her trying to convince him and herself that she’d be okay if he got lonely while he was traveling and needed someone. He hadn’t believed it for a second and it had been one of the few times he had been so pissed at her that he couldn’t even stomach to look at her.

“Am I making a mistake, mom?” She asks, barely five minutes later, not even bothering saying hi when her mom greets her over the phone. “No.” Her mom’s voice is firm and has her blinking away tears. “But,” “No.” Her mom cuts her off. “Sweetheart, I can’t even begin to try and understand Max and yours relationship. But this, this privacy that you two have, that’s not a mistake. It’s rough right now and it will be. And it will come back later when you two do decide to be public, but it’s not a mistake. You two both made the difficult, heartbreaking, mature decision to keep it private for both of yours sake.” “I know.” She whispers, wiping away tears. “You both still need privacy and there is no shame in that. Max isn’t ready and neither are you. As far as I’m concerned the only mistake you two have made is still not being married with a baby on the way.” “Mom.” She groans and her mom laughs. “I know, I know. Just remember that despite the seven or so years you’ve been together, that you two are still young, still doing so much growing.” “Thank you.” “Of course.”

When Max arrives home hours later, drunkenly stumbling around and into bed, she’s not surprised by the smell of liquor clinging to him or the drunken murmurings he’s pressing to her skin. She is surprised by the deep inhale he takes and the splutter that makes her turn to face him.

Eyes a little blurry from sleep and wine, she makes out squinted eyes, flushed face, and a frown.

“You’re drunk.” “You’re drunk.” She replies, curling closer to him. “You’ve been crying.” “Yeah.” He slips an arm around her, pulling her closer. “We’re going to feel like shit when we wake up.” “Yeah.” He chuckles, brushing lips over her forehead. “That bad?” “That bad.” She nods.

At twenty-three and twenty-four, the itch that Max has had since he was nineteen, one that’s grown worse and worse as the years have gone by, is too persistent and he takes a quick trip to his fathers house the day after she turns twenty-three and returns with a ring and the promises they made at fourteen and sixteen, promising them all over again, as she stares at him with a smile and teary eyes.

“I’d be stupid to not want to marry you Max.” She tells him when he slips the ring on her finger, breathing a sigh of relief when it goes on, fitting perfectly. “You’re going to marry me.” She nods, giggling at his blown pupils and silly grin. “Yes, I am.”

It seems stupid to be so giggly and flustered about it, so love sick, when they’ve talked about it so much. About getting married, about houses, kids, life after racing and teaching. But it’s different with the ring on her finger. Not more real or tangible. Just more.

“I know I proposed early.” She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around his neck and his arms eagerly wrap around her waist. “It’s perfect. I know we talked and had plans, but this is perfect. Besides, I’ve got news of my own that’s early.” “Oh?” Max’s eyebrow raises and he knows it’s not possible, not really with her religious use of the birth control shot and the way they mainly use condoms, more for convenience than anything else, but his eyes drift down to her abdomen that’s exposed. There’s no difference, but he can imagine what it would look like, he can also imagine what it will look like in a few hours. “Not that.” Her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth. “I got an email about my viva exam.” “Your viva? But you haven’t submitted your thesis yet.” “Actually,” “Stop.” He lifts a hand to press it against her mouth. “You submitted your thesis already? You completed it?” She nods, her laughter muffled by his hand and he drops it. “Well, what did it say? The email.” “Once I get to the ceremony, I will officially hold a doctorate in education and history.” He kisses her before she can say anything else.

“Unbelievable my love, unbelievable. Two doctorates by twenty-three.” He shakes his head, smiling wide. “You know what that means right?” He shakes his head again, unable to think of anything. Too overcome with his proudness and love for her. “I’ll have my position at Harvard right after the ceremony.” Blue eyes widen. “And they agreed to let me teach a mix schedule for all of 2022, but when the official school year starts for 2023, I’ll just be teaching digital.”

Twenty-three and twenty-five has them weathering the media storm once again as Max wins his second world championship. It’s worse this time. Not because he says more than he did last time about her or says her name or slips up and calls her his fiancee and not girlfriend like they agreed to. But because this championship no one can deny is his and she’s still not there. Too busy in a different continent with the start of the school year as she teaches by herself for the first time since earning both her doctorates.

It’s also not as bad this time, because some of his friends do think that he’s seeing someone, not the girlfriend of years, or even really a girlfriend, but just some random girl that understands he’s too busy for an actual relationship and willing to put up with him spouting to the media and everyone else that he’s in a committed relationship. She doesn’t have time to focus on the media and fans that believe she exists, she barely did last year, but this year she really doesn’t.

“You know,” she says five days after he’s won his championship and they are in the house they have stayed in for the past two years when she has to be at Harvard and he wants to join her. “Around this time next year, we’ll be public.” His face does a weird contortion at the thought. There was a giddiness to the idea, to the thought, but also dread. “That means,” she continues when Max doesn’t say anything. “That you have ample time to figure out how you want to tell people.” “How I want to?” “Yeah. This is your world, your friends, colleagues, nightmares,” she adds and they both laugh. “You can decide how exactly you want to get back at them for not believing you.” “I’m not going to be cruel.” “No.” She lifts her hand and lets her pointer finger trace over his lips. “You’ve never been a cruel person, Max. But you can be a menace.” His eyes light up at that. “Oh. And you don’t care?” She shakes her head, “This is all you and I’m more than happy to be along for the ride.”

She is twenty-four and he has just turned twenty-six when he decides to enact his plan that he came up with so many months ago.

He had made a reservation for a private hall in Monaco months ago, hired a party planner to take care of the finer details, but sorted himself out the place and the food and drinks that would be served. And the day after he turns twenty-six, he picks up the large stack of enveloped invitations he had made and carefully packs them in his suitcase for Qatar. He was winning the championship there and he’d be damned if he didn’t make an already memorable weekend even better.

It’s the first time in a decade she has traveled with him to a race to actually watch the race and not just be there at the hotel to support him as she studies and he can’t help the smugness and happiness that radiates off him when he shows up to the track for the first day.

He’s got his backpack over his shoulder, but the invitations are already in his hands, ready to be passed out.

“Max!” Charles greets when he arrives in the driver's debrief room. All twenty of them, plus reserves, team principals, and Daniel sitting and standing around as they wait for the FIA representative to get here. He looks down at his watch, noting that it will at least another ten minutes, before his eyes flicker to a member of the Red Bull staff that’s standing against a wall, but just like he asked, they’ve got a camera in their hands and there’s another one standing leaning against the opposite wall, also with a camera. “Charles. Safe flight?” “Always. What do you have there?” “Ooh,” Daniel chimes in, moving closer and looking at the envelopes in his hands. “What do you have there?” He smirks and he can see Daniel’s grin flatter at the sight for a brief second. “Invitations.” He says, before tossing or passing them around to the different drivers and Christian. He nearly avoids giving Lando one just to be a shit but Toto isn’t there to give it too and it wouldn’t be the same to give it to a different team principal jokingly.

“What is it for?” Carlos asks, eyeing the dark envelope like a lot of the other drivers are, suspiciously. He shrugs, eyebrows raising when he sees the way Lando is feeling the envelope. “Mate, I’m not giving you money.” Lando frowns, before ripping it open. “You’ve got more than enough to spare.” Seeing Lando open his, has the rest of them following suit.

“Dear friends of Max Verstappen,” George reads out and the wording earns a few snorts but he continues. “You are invited to celebrate at the” he pauses squinting at the french on the page. “The Salle des Étoiles” Charles says. “Cheers, mate. You’re invited to celebrate on the 8th of November at 4pm.” His eyebrows furrow. “Celebrate what?” Max watches from the corner of his eye as Christian flips the invitation over and nearly chokes.

“Your engagement?” “Your what?” “Engaged?” “Impossible.” “Lies.”

The whole room is filled with denial and panic and Max just smiles, nearly laughing when Logan thrusts his invitation into James’ hands and asks the team principal if it’s true.

“Max, you aren’t engaged, right? Like that was a fuck up with the print place?” Daniel is nearly pleading, begging, and Max would feel sorry, but for the past ten years he’s been telling people he isn’t single, and sure he’s never shared many details, but they all refused to believe or even consider it. He ignores him, instead looking at the room in large. “You’ll meet her tomorrow. She’s very excited about it.” And as if he planned it, the FIA official walks into the room and no one can question him.

When the meeting is over he manages to avoid all of them except for Christian, who nearly drags him into a private room.

“Is this real?” Max raises an eyebrow at the way he’s waving around the invitation but nods. “Yes.” “You’re really engaged.” “Yes, Christian. I am.” The older man stares at him, not blinking before sighing and running a hand over his face. “Is she pregnant?” “What?” “The girl you’ve been sleeping with recently. Is she pregnant, is that what this is about? Because you don’t have to marry her.” “No one is pregnant.” He reassures, not even able to find any anger for Christian and his assumption. The older man sighs again before sitting down and slumping in the chair.

“You’ve had a girlfriend since you were sixteen.” There’s regret, guilt, and sorrow in his voice. “Yes.” “And I never believed you.” He shrugs, it had hurt yes, but he had always understood Christian’s disbelief in it over anyone else's. “No.” Christian nods. “And I owe you both an apology for that. I should have believed you Max.” “Thank you.” “But really, ten years and you’ve just put a ring on it?” Max groans, rolling his eyes. “You sound like our families.”

They are twenty-four and twenty-six when Max wins his third championship, with the sprint race of all things, and the whole world watches as he’s enveloped by his team before he’s tugging off his helmet and kissing the unfamiliar girl that’s between Christian and Jos, shielded from the rough crowd of Red Bull mechanics, crew, and such. They are twenty-four and twenty-six when everyone finds out that Max had been telling the truth the whole time.

Just about a month later, she eases into the spot between Max and the arm of the couch, eagerly tucking herself closer to him when he drapes an arm over her shoulders.

“You alright?” She nods, “Yeah, Vic and Tom finally left.” Max snorts, “It only took them thirty minutes.” “A record for them.” She grins, before looking at the other people surrounding them, or rather Max. She wasn’t surprised that Max had taken to quickly grabbing a few people and secluding themselves in a corner. She was a bit surprised by the people however.

Charles and Daniel which isn’t too surprising, but there’s the three rookies of the season, Liam, Oscar, and Logan, as well, a little surprising, but nothing compared to the two Mercedes drivers also in front of her.

“You aren’t trying to get Lewis to play paddle are you?” Lewis laughs, shaking his head. “I get enough of competing with him on the track. There’s no convincing me there.” “It’s fun, Lewis.” Charles says. “You should join. George you too. Make it Mercedes versus,” he pauses, eyebrows scrunching together as he tries to think of something to call himself and Max. “Lestappen.” She offers, inching away a bit when Max pinches her side. Charles doesn’t notice the pinch, just smiles at her, before looking at the two British drivers. “Yes! Mercedes versus Lestappen.” His eyebrows then furrow. “What is Lestappen?” “Mate, you don’t want to know.” Liam tells him. Logan chuckles, “I don’t know. Either he finds out now or he finds out when he googles it later.” “Googles it.” George murmurs, mocking the American accent that Logan has. “Bloody Americans.” “Yeah, yeah, tea and crumpets.” Logan waves off Georges mocking with a grin as he looks at Charles. “It’s what people call you and Max, a nickname you could say for when you two are together.” She tells him before Logan can say anything. “Oh,” he frowns, considering. “That doesn’t sound so bad.” “It’s not.” She assures.

Before anyone can say anything else, someone joins their group, eyes focusing on her.

“Dr. Y/L/N, congratulations on your engagement.” She looks at the older man in surprise before quickly standing to shake his hand. “Toto, a pleasure to see you again. And please you don’t need to call me doctor.” Toto smiles, tilting his head forwards, conceding as she sits back down. “Doctor?” Daniel questions, eyes flitting between her and the Mercedes team principal, not sure of what to make of the interaction, though Max seems perfectly fine with it. She presses her lips together and she can feel Max move a bit closer as Toto’s eyes narrow at Max. “Yes.” She tells Daniel and the rest. “I managed to get both of my doctorates last year.” A few jaws drop and Lewis whistles. “And I thought you were just a teacher.” Toto’s looking at her now, with narrowed eyes and she sighs.

It would be just her luck that despite having just met the man once, that one time had resulted in a long conversation after he gave his guest lecture at Harvard.

“You told them you're a teacher.” “I told them I teach.” She corrects. “Let's not make a big deal out of it.” “I want to make a big deal out of it.” Max mumbles and she sends him a pleading look. But Max doesn’t give in, instead he turns to the rest of them. “She’s a professor at Harvard. She got both her doctorates at twenty-three and quickly was signed on as professor.” “So, what you’re saying,” Oscar starts, breaking the silence that has fallen over the group. “Is that she is way too smart for you?” Max laughs, eyes crinkling and body bending forward from the force of it. “Without a doubt, mate. Without a doubt.”

@cixrosie @darleneslane @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @fanboyluvr @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @benstormy @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @boiohboii @topguncultleader

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #sins fics

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ctrlhope · 7 months ago

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The Pitfalls of Silk (m)

synopsis: The winter gods are out to get you. That could be the only possible explanation for the series of bad luck tumbling before you— tropical vacation cancelled, snow locking you inside. Hell, even your shovel broken in half has got to be the gods playing some sort of trick on you. Pulling you along, making decisions for you as they guide you along the red string of fate. Guide you towards the very spider that found his way into your basement. Allowing him to fall into your heart all the same. -> apart of the rest, relax, reserve series

p.jimin x f.reader

⋆𐙚┊: wc: 20.0k

⋆𐙚┊: genre: hybrid au, soft yandere, soulmate au, romance, fluff, smut, v light angst

⋆𐙚┊: content: spider hybrid!jimin (cobalt blue tarantula), human!reader, soft yandere jimin, dom!jimin, power imbalances, blood, blood kink, injury, mates / mating, stupid misunderstandings, reader is rlly bad at feelings, heat/rut cycles, jealousy, biting/marking, jimin has fangs, brat taming, light subspace, bondage, fingering, breeding / breeding kink, unprotected sex, cumplay, overstimulation, manipulation, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of venom, honestly rlly soft- jimin is just a little off his rocker, so many mentions of the word silk, jimin is soft for reader but also a little perverted freak <\3

⋆𐙚┊: notes: AHHH it’s finally here!!! I’ve had such a bad crush on spider jimin for such a long time. Creating his character over the years in my head— how exactly this type of hybrid would function was so fun for me. This fic (& the others that follow) has been spurred on by my special interest in arthropods so I hope you end up loving this jimin as much as I do <33 mwah I kiss u guys

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The weather has grown cold, too harsh for anyone to live outside— survive. Burly temperatures tumbling through the air in icicles, the entire world painted in white.

While the city was still busy, your quaint neighbourhood had gone completely quiet. Everyone huddled inside, trying to keep warm while they sipped on cocoa. The worst blizzard in generations deciding to tumble through on the exact weekend you were meant to go out of town. Meant to be enjoying a tropical beach with the best of your friends!

But nooo, all of the planes had to stay grounded and you had to be stuck in your house with nothing but chilly embers decorating your fireplace.

You were pissed about it all, to say the least. Annoyed that your vacation had to be cancelled, annoyed at the fact you couldn’t stay warm in the slightest, annoyed that you had to be shovelling snow out of your driveway right now.

Well, attempting to shovel snow would be a better way to put it. In theory it seemed like the right thing to do– try and get your car out just in case, start to clear a path for when you’d finally be able to greet the outside world, triumph over whatever winter gods are trying to keep you locked in your home.

In reality, you could hardly move– three layers of pants, two coats keeping all of your joints locked down. God, and the snow. It was coming down way too hard, piling up faster than you could brush it away. Hurting your cheeks with the freezing temperatures, making your bones throb with want to go back inside.

It is safe to say that you did not succeed. That was an easy enough conclusion to come to with the two halves of your snow shovel in your hands. Eyes staring blankly at the object with utter… you don’t even know the word.

Cheeks flushed red with cold, head lifting to the sky as you blink. What the fuck! How shitty can your shovel be! What the fuck is wrong with the snow!

Okay, maybe you did buy it at the dollar store. But that isn’t the point! Where has quality gone in our nation! Caring about the consumer! Yeah, that was never there to begin with! But still! You like to think that there's a point in that somewhere!

The snow falling on your skin feels like the sky is laughing at you, mocking you. It probably is. Cancelling your trip, forcing you to stay at home into the lonely confines of your small neighbourhood.

Yeah, the world is out to get you, you’ve decided it.

A grumble leaves your throat in annoyance, quiet cusses leaving your lips as your legs try to waddle themselves inside. Layers of clothing restricting every movement you make, joints feeling stiff and bones feeling cold. You are no more than a penguin, are you?

“Stupid fuckin’ shovel, stupid fuckin’ snow…” You huff, slamming the thick oak door behind you. Hoping, in a way, that you could pretend none of the frost was there in the first place.

It’s not that you hate snow– of course not. You don’t like to hate much of anything. But when it’s this deep, this thick, you can’t help the sour mood you fall into. Can’t help the sickly feeling in your gut that it has somehow wronged you simply for existing.

Whatever, not that it matters much. You aren’t mother nature. You can’t change it or your now cancelled– most likely non-refundable plans.

What you can change? A nice warm pizza in your tummy.

You hum to yourself, tapping off your boots before ridding yourself of them entirely. Soon follows your jackets, puddles of water quickly forming on the floor where it falls. Snow melting much too fast now that it is in the warmth of your home.

You stare at it in spite, another way mother nature has wronged you today.

You know what? No, not your problem right now. That is a problem for you later today! The wood would be fine. And if it isn’t?

…

You groan, throwing your head back as you move to the bathroom. The battle of opposing forces inside of your head has won again– being responsible, doing the right thing.

Your hand snatches a towel, “Stupid shovel… stupid snow…” You huff, kneeling on the ground to wipe away the liquid that pooled.

You hang the towel back in the bathroom for it to dry before finally making your way to the kitchen. To finally make the frozen pizza you want– no deserve! Yeah, you’ve had a hard day today, being an adult is too hard sometimes. You deserve a little treat don't you?

Feet scuffling against the floor, fluffy socks dragging along the surface allowing you to quickly slip against the tiled floor. Your hips sway, a quiet hum leaving your lips as your hands move diligently, efficiently. Placing the pizza in the oven, setting the timer, flipping the switch on on the kettle.

Everything happens with practised ease. With movements that leave no room for error. Careful, efficient, the way your parents always taught you. The right way.

If you do everything correctly, things will never go wrong. You’ll never have to worry. When everything is in your control, everything is perfect and content.

It’s too bad the right way never accounts for things out of your control. When the world causes you to tense and get annoyed– when it doesn’t behave the way it's supposed to, like you want it to. Just like stupid shovels and a winter storm no one predicted.

But hey, at least you still have power. Your backup generator is there if you need it. Can still watch your dramas and eat warm food. Keep yourself sane while the insane persits just outside of your door.

Lonely, lonely, lonely winter storm~ whatever shall you do~

Your head begins to sing to itself while you wait. Maybe you already were going insa–

Bang.

What the fuck was that?

Your eyes instantly dart to the basement door wide with fear– the source of the sound.

A crash, a quiet cry, a scurry all sound in quick succession. Too loud to miss. Too loud to ignore. Too distinct to place on anything else.

You know winter noises. The crash of shutters against the window, the influx of snow on glass. The beating of hail against the roof or the creaking of pipes chilled from the cold. The noises you just heard? None of the above. They couldn’t possibly be. They weren’t. They were too… too…

Human.

Shit, shit. Is someone in your basement?! Oh god, oh fuck.

The room, it freezes over.

Your pulse starts to race– hairs raise, stand on end. Breath filtering through your nose as you start to panic. Fingers grip the countertop as you try to ground yourself. Try to figure out a way to escape this.

If horror movies have taught you anything– it’s how to run. Grab everything you can, high tail it out before you become victim to the unknown lurking just below the surface of your floorboards. Before you can be possessed or worse, chased down by some mass murdering clown.

That would be the smart thing to do– the wise thing. To get out of your house as quickly as possible, call the police to investigate it for you before you have to become the ‘final girl’ of a movie franchise of your own.

But the storm, the storm would never allow for the right thing.

The police would never make it in time, the roads far too hazardous to truly reach you. If they did, you would already have frostbite from the cold outside by the time they made it. You might be worse off than before–

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. The reasoning formulated in your head as you grab a broom from the closet, slowly make your way to the basement door. Completely ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut, the one that tells you that you actually want to travel down the stairs. A string tugging you along a path predetermined, forcing you to forego anything you had thought before.

No, your line of reasoning had to be the object pulling you down those stairs, creaking with every slow, nagging step that you take. It could never be curiosity, a want to understand the unknown guide leading you astray from the dirt road you’ve taken time and time again.

The right road that would lead to the right solution is all but forgotten in this moment. Only adrenaline spurring you on, fingers clenching and unclenching around the broom handle in your grip. Fingers tied so tight around the metal that your knuckles may as well be white.

You're terrified– scared out of your mind. The only noise passing through the drums of your ears is your own pulse, the accelerated beat of your heart as you try to clear the fog that dances over your brain. Fear must be clouding your judgement, making you follow it blindly into the light; well, dark.

Your breath leaps from your chest in short pants, eyes haphazardly harding around your form as you make it to the bottom of the stairs. Something is keeping your legs moving when all your brain wants to do is turn back and run. Call the authorities like you should be doing instead of risking everything to satiate the incessant need pulling at the back of your skull. Acting on instincts alone, allowing the string of fate to tug you around the corner. The urge to investigate is stronger than anything you had ever felt before. Anything you’ve ever wanted to feel before.

He sees you before you see him.

“P-please..” The quiet, almost non-existent voice sends a chill down your spine. One you were not expecting in the slightest.

Terrified, panicked. Shaking like a leaf, eyes welled with tears. It’s almost like he knew you were coming down all along, just… didn’t know what to do about it. Too scared to move, too scared to hide. Too scared to do anything but sit there and wait.

Just as petrified as you.

Nothing about the scene before you is making much sense at all. Not to you, at least. Why is he so scared? Why is he in your home? Why isn’t he doing anything but sitting there with pleading, helpless eyes? You try to take everything in, try to fit the pieces of the picture together.

Basement window opened slightly, just enough to allow the man— was he a man? To climb inside. Pretty blonde hair completely dishevelled on his head, grime coating what you know would be such pretty locks. Eyes with double pupils brimmed with tears threatening to spill at any second. Pink plush lips quivering with worry, fangs biting into them so hard you fear they may bleed. No, they are bleeding.

He is definitely not a man. Nor is he a beast. An intoxicating swirl of the two combined into a species of hybrid you’ve never seen before.

The first thought in your head is one it shouldn’t be. One that makes your heart stop for entirely different reasons than before. Makes you drop the broom in your hands, allowing it to fall to the ground with a clatter. Defences dropped completely in the face of the stranger before you.

He only flinches at the noise, blood covered hands reaching in panic to cover his all too sensitive ears.

Any worries have left you– something seeded deep within your soul tells you he isn’t a threat in the slightest. Not to you, at least. Never to you. Maybe it is the same string as before pulling you along. Pulling you to what destiny has provided.

He is absolutely gorgeous. Even with the grime and his pale complexion from the cold you can tell that easily. He might just be the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you find lost in yourself what to do about it.

What is anyone meant to do when a drop dead gorgeous hybrid enters their home in the middle of a blizzard? Just as scared as you were moments before? Looking like he might freeze to death if you don’t–

Holy shit he must be frozen solid.

It’s only then that you come to your senses, your eyes racking over him once more as you take in all of him for more than just the beauty he brings.

His clothes are thin– far too thin for this weather at least. Tattered on the edges, few stains spotting the fabric, though its clear effort was spent trying to get them out. Your mind wants to wonder why he would worry about that, worry about making himself appear presentable, but raking your vision down you know there is no time for it. Not with the blood on his palms or the red of his flesh.

Your body moves quicker than your brain can think, crouching down in front of him. Noticing the way he flinches once more, the fear in his eyes more palpable, hurting worse than a gunshot wound.

The constriction of your chest is dumb, or at least it should be. Feels almost benign, unfounded. You just met him, you're scaring him, but for an unexplainable reason you wish you could take all of his worry away just for that moment. Make him feel a little better, a little warm. A little safe.

“It’s okay… it’s okay…” Your voice mumbles, trying to soothe him or yourself, you’re not entirely sure.

“I-I’m sorry… pl-please don’t.. It’s just so cold… Please…” He begs, though neither of you are sure what for. Not to hurt him, not to send him back outside. All you know is the tears that now flow from his eyes, cresting along his cheeks, dripping to the floor.

“Not going anywhere…” You hope your voice sounds stronger than you feel, hope he can’t hear the way the strings of your heart break, hope he hears how much you care in your tone all along, “Trust me a little okay…?”

You know your words mean nothing, that it might have been an impossible task for him to do so. But you had to try. Had to hope.

It should be hard for you to trust him too, it should be hard to rectify your fear in the face of the one who had caused it. It isn’t the right thing– none of this is the right thing, but it all just comes too easily. Compassion, caring takes over the anxiety too easily. Too brilliantly to do anything else other than care for this hybrid that has wound up at your door.

He was just a scared hybrid doing whatever he needed to to survive. Terrified out of his mind that he would freeze or starve out there– probably had no burrow or… you’re not sure, honestly, what his home might be like. But no home nevertheless. You could never just send another person out there to die.

He stiffens as you reach out for him, gently take his hands in your own. They feel like ice, frozen solid. You don't want to acknowledge what could have happened to them if he was out there any longer.

Without thinking you raise them to your lips, blowing on them as best you can. Trying to do anything to get the blood flowing again before you take him upstairs. Warm him up properly. Make him feel like more than a snowman once again.

You don’t notice the way his form completely loses all stress as you touch him for the first time, speak to him the first time. He feels transfixed on your voice– it had to be too sweet to be real. But you were too focused on your mission. Too focused on making sure the man who has broken into your home is okay to notice the way his lips part slightly at your tone.

You don’t notice the way his breath hitches, the way all of his hair stands on edge as a current runs through his body, breathing life into every pore he possesses. Nor the way his eyes widen, losing their will to cry as he stares at you.

Don’t notice the recognition on his face.

You don’t notice a lot of things he does that day. Too focused on getting him into a warm shower– one he was very confused by, you might add. Too focused on getting a warm meal in his belly. Too focused on getting him in nice, clean clothes. A set that will properly keep him warm.

You could worry about other things later. But this felt right. This felt like something you were always meant to do. Or maybe that was just the size of your heart talking– you could never be too sure. But you liked to think it was the former. Liked to hope that Jimin, who you later learned was a spider hybrid, was always meant to come tumbling through your window, into your life for good.

The days that follow are easy– falling into a rhythm with him, taking care of him is just too simple. As basic as breathing, maybe.

Though, it hasn’t exactly been hard with how much he sleeps. How deep he’s nestled in your bed, blankets piled on top of him to drown out any chills that may attempt to slip into his bones. It’s almost like hibernation– if you could describe it. Re-building his energy, making himself feel strong again before he faces the world.

You can’t blame him, honestly. Not after everything he’s been through. Only god knows how long he had been out there. How long he had to brave the snowstorm, the cold weather that previewed it as well. You would probably do the same thing. Hide yourself from everything that hurt you.

Most days you wish you could be doing the exact same thing as him. Hide under a pile of blankets and forget the rest of the world exists. But the voice of your parents would always nag you out of it, force you to be human with the rest of society because it's the right thing.

You humph, gently placing a plate of food on the bedside table. Let him occupy your room for as long as he needs, preparing meals for him even though he never touches a bit of it. It’s the least you can do with his condition.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to stop someone's pain so badly. You hope you can by just doing small things like this. You sigh, heading for the door once again. Another day on the couch.

“Human…?” His voice is quiet, almost non-existent as he calls for you. Cracking slightly, the first time he's spoken in days.

You quickly turn to face him and almost want to fall to your knees at the sight. Fluffy blonde hair peeking from just below the covers, doll eyes peering at you while the rest of him stays hidden beneath the surface. Does he know how destructive he is?

Wait, no. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this. He’s letting his defences down, actually talking to you. Stop it.

“Hmm?” You gently call back, glued to your spot in the doorway. You don’t know what he would do if you moved, how startled he may be because of it. You want to talk to him– to find answers.

“What time is it…?” He slowly asks, pacing his question. You notice a slight lisp behind his words– how much of an effort he puts to cover it up.

“Mmm.. about 1? I made myself some lunch so I was just stopping by.” You explain, trying to justify your presence in the room.

“Oh.” He looks beneath the blankets, eyes darting around the room, “Okay. Thank you.”

It seems neither of you are great conversationalists, awkward air passing between the space left between your bodies. You don’t blame him. You don’t know what you would be thinking, feeling if you were in the same place as him. If you didn’t really know what your fate was going to be.

“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly, playing with your fingers to distract from the nerves that you feel. As much as you want to jump, pin him down and ask every single thing your heart begs for, you know that isn't the right thing to do. You know you should be slow, careful with this. At least, that's what the articles online have told you.

“Better…” His voice comes out smoother this time, finally coming out of sleep as he sits up in the bed. Gently taking the plate into his lap, scrunching his nose. “It’s not cold in here like out there.”

You can’t help but smile to yourself. He seems so relaxed, so at ease. Not scared in the slightest of you or what you may do. You forget all about the fact that you should probably be scared of him too.

“Not really,” You smile gently, eyes glancing at the window as he starts to eat, “I was really worried about you, scared me bad.”

You don’t see the flush that covers his cheeks.

“I-I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to… your window was the first one I could get through and I knew I couldn’t take the storm anymore so I–”

“Hey, It’s fine.” You turn your attention back to him, “I’m just glad you’re okay, yeah? It must’ve been terrifying out there.”

“It was.” He doesn’t hesitate in answering in the slightest, eyes serious as they focus on you. They’re beautiful, really. His eyes.

“I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head, “Not your fault human, I left the reserve. My fault.” He tells you in earnest, wanting you to believe it with every piece of your soul that you could never do anything to hurt him, “Come sit?”

The question is quiet, but you oblige nonetheless. Legs moving you slowly, perching at the end of the bed to face him. Kicking your legs slightly as you stare at the pattern of your sweats.

“The reserve?” You ask, turning slightly to face him. His face is suddenly smiling, nodding at your question. He must like the place a lot, see it as home for him to become so excited.

“Yeah! Where I live,” He explains, continuing to shovel food into his mouth as he speaks, “They say humans can't hurt you there, you get to hunt like in the wild too.”

He hums, content in talking about the one place he has ever found comfort in, found friends in. You can’t help but smile as he speaks, too.

“Yeah? It sounds really nice.” He’s nodding his head once again, as quickly as he can.

“There are lots of other arthropods to play with there. Lot’s of food. Sometimes the humans that visit will give you some too, but they’re normally scared of me.” He suddenly looks serious, eyes coming to meet yours once again, “You’re not scared of me, right?”

You jerk your head back, brows furrowing together in confusion. How could someone be scared of someone like Jimin? You’ve only known him for a matter of days and you doubt that you could ever be.

“Of course not.” You tell him, gently reaching a hand over to place on his knee. He doesn’t flinch away like you expect him to. “You just needed some help, we all need help sometimes.”

He smiles, the serious demeanour retracting from his face in an instant. Back to smiling down at his food happily. The silence doesn’t feel as awkward anymore, at least you don't think it does. It makes you happy, stretching on as he continues to eat like a man starved. He probably is, days of not eating and only sleeping.

“Why did you leave it?” You tilt your head, staring out the window once more. Few snowflakes trickle against the blue sky, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I figure if we’re going to be together through the storm–”

“You’re not gonna kick me out?” His face is awestruck, fork dropping to the plate in surprise. What is he talking about? Kick him out? In this weather?

You quickly shake your head, hand slowly pulling itself back from your knee. He whines in protest, quickly trying to force himself back under your heat. The touch of your hand warmed him up more than anything else in this room– more than the blankets, more than the heater or the warm towels.

His hand tangles itself with your own, pulls you back to his covered knee. Keeps your hand in place with his own while he uses the other to eat. Good. This is better. He likes it when you touch him. The way your small hand feels wrapped in his own.

Makes the tips of his fingers tingle, warmth spread throughout his skin. This is right. This is good.

“Why would I kick you out?” You ask in disbelief, either unnoticing or uncaring to the way he holds your hand– he’s unsure. Not that it matters much! “It’s too cold for anyone out there. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

He smiles, the pit of his stomach only warming more at your words, “Good.”

“We have to wait for the snow to melt to drive you ba–” He cuts you off once again, not wanting to think about going back. At least not without you.

“My friend Taehyung leaves a lot,” He begins to explain, fingers squeezing your own as his palm lays heavy against the back of your hand, “He always talks about how fun it is. All the cool things he gets to see, you know?”

He places his plate to the side while he talks, licking one of his fangs gently. You don’t want to think about how handsome he looks while he does such an action.

“So I wanted to try it out, but we’re not really supposed to leave, you know? ‘Cause then we’re not protected.” You nod along, “And I don’t really have wings to fly out so… I had to wait until they weren’t really paying attention.”

“And that just happened to line up right before the snowstorm was supposed to hit.” You finish for him and he nods, looking down at his lap, “That has gotta be such shitty luck, Jimin. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s really not, you just wanted to go out and experience new things and you almost ended up dead.” You frown at him, trying to get the man to understand the gravity of what may have happened. He simply shakes his head, plush lips tilted into a small smile just for you.

“I said it’s okay.” He tries to make you believe it, leaning closer. Feeling nothing like the stranger he was only days before. “I got to meet you, so it was all worth it.”

Mate. Mate. Mate.

Jimin has a mate that he’s going to be with someday. Someone he’s going to fall in love with. Someone he’s meant to be with, be happy with for the rest of his life. Someone that isn’t you. You really need to accept that and move on from this stupid fucking crush you’ve developed. One that will amount to nothing but heartbreak.

All hybrids have them– Jimin is not excluded from that. You know it’s true. Know it’s so true that you can hardly breathe but he just makes it so easy, too fucking easy to fall for him.

He takes care of the house, cleans it for you whenever there is a mess. Does the dishes after dinner. Takes out the trash. Tells the spiders in the yard not to mess with you– okay, you’re not entirely sure he does that last one. But he is adamant he can speak to them, and who are you to rain on his little spidey parade.

As the seasons change and the months pass, he only makes it easier and easier. Fitting into your life like he was the only piece missing. Filling in all of the bits and pieces you never knew you needed, wrapping silk around your heart and pulling it tight before you could ever think about letting him go.

Even as the months heat and his deep blue roots grow out from his bleached hair, he has no desire to the place he once called home. The reserve quickly pushed aside every time you try to bring it up. Saying he likes it better here, that this is now his home.

To be honest, nothing makes you more happy. Nothing in the world could possibly make you feel better than Jimin. His little webs he places in the corners, the soft way he clings to you when he becomes needy, the way he likes to show you any bugs he catches before he eats them. You’re not sure you could continue in your life without it.

Yet still, still. You’re not sure if this is right. The right thing, the right way to go about it all.

You often fear that you’re keeping him from what he really wants, if he actually wants to go back but feels indebted to you in some way. If that’s the only reason he actually sticks around.

You worry you’re being selfish in that regard. And then once again you find yourself spiralling into the void of questions you could never have answered. Feelings that will always be unaccounted for because Jimin has a mate.

Or at least, will have one. Someday. And you’re not sure if you could handle that day coming. Not in the warm heat of spring, flowers blooming alongside feelings for an arachnid that has entered your life.

One that has no intention of leaving your side anytime soon, if he has anything to say about it.

But nothing, nothing in the world could prepare you for this. What could prepare the thrum of your heart or the butterflies in your tummy? You never expected him to hold you this close, keep your body pressed against his own in the small space of the coat closet. Keep his face tucked away in your neck, whining in pain at something you could never think to discern.

So quickly you were pulled away, without a second to waste you were dragged onto his lap. One second kicking off your shoes, covered in mud from gardening, the next a hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you into the dark confines. Only Jimin there to cover up your scream, lips delicately pressed to your ear uttering a quiet please. Voiced laced with a whine so pained you couldn’t help but join him without a second to spare.

A thought to think– a debate on whether this is right to do or not, for yourself and your own heart.

“Min? Min, what’s wrong?” It’s the only thing you can think to ask, pulling him away from your neck, making his head face your own. Hands gently cupping either cheek as your eyes attempt to make out the features of his face.

It’s too dark, you can’t see anything. The only answer he gives is in the form of a pained groan, not even his eyes reaching you through the darkness. You start to panic, feel the nerves along your spine light up in trepidation.

He’s hurt. He has to be. What happened? Is he okay? He’s never acted like this before. Not with you. Never before has he seemed so hurt, so dishevelled save for the night you first met him.

Just before this the two of you were gardening, mid-morning sun shining bright overhead. A light breeze passing through the trees keeping the two of you cool. That was it! He only went inside a few minutes before you, a few minutes alone and he was already hurt this bad.

Oh god, you never want him to hurt. To be in pain. It hurts your heart just as bad as it hurts him, if not worse.

You’ve fallen a lot farther than you thought.

“Min, let me just turn on the lights okay? Let me see what’s wrong.” You try to coax him, try to kneel from his lap to reach the string above you. Panic flooding through you as he keeps you snug, keeps you from helping him.

You stop your struggle, veins running cold as he lets out a sharp, violent hiss. A sound he’s never made before, never dare uttered towards you– around you in general. It leaves you nervous, scared for entirely different reasons than before.

But one thing is clear from the way his fingers dig into the skin of your wrist almost painfully. The same wrist that was reaching for the string. He doesn’t want you to turn on the light.

“Okay…okay I won’t…” You tell the arachnid, slowly lowering yourself back onto his lap. Letting go of the struggle, letting go of the resistance. It isn’t what he needs right now, isn’t what he wants.

His grip loosens, arms returning to their place around your waist. Holding you close. Keeping you in his arms. His face nuzzles back into your neck, inhaling deeply with every breath he takes. Smelling you. Imprinting the memory of it in his brain.

“What if I use my flashlight…? Would that be okay?” Once again, the response is a much short, quieter hiss. A lot less defensive, angry than the first. Just a sign of dismissal.

“Okay…” You say quietly, bringing one arm behind him to gently run through his hair. Scratching his scalp in a way that always has him preening, “Can you please tell me what's wrong? So I can help…? Please…”

Your voice is quiet, almost a beg as you ask him. He squeezes your body tighter in response. Would’ve basked in the tone you gave him if not for the pounding behind his eyelids. Still, he knows if he’s going to get you to stay, he has to talk. No matter how much it hurts.

A whine leaves his lips, nose running along the column of your neck as he tries to scent you, “Hurts.”

He answered, his voice shaky and quiet, but it gives you nothing.

“I know Min, I know…” You hush quietly, trying to consol something that you do not have the answer to. Your other hand slowly starts to soothe up and down his back, trying to relax the poor boy enough to speak.

“The light. Hurt eyes. Head Hurts.” He gruffs out, burying his face into your skin to block out any other source that he could.

Your lips part in a soft ‘o’ as the picture becomes clear to you. Staying outside too long, helping you in the garden had come at a cost to the poor spider in the form of a splitting headache.

How could you have been so dumb to let him help you? The articles you’ve read, the pieces you’ve tried to put together to understand the man in your life– they told you as much. How delicate some species' eyes could be but… Jimin never seemed to have that issue before. Never mentioned it, anyway. He doesn’t mention a lot about himself.

You frown.

“Min, I’m so sorry…”

He only grumbles in reply, blunt nails digging into the back of your shirt to keep himself grounded. To keep his head from pounding any louder.

“Let me– Let me go get you some Ibuprofen, yeah?” You hope the sound of your voice isn’t making everything worse. If it does, he doesn’t say anything, only shaking his head, burrowing it further under your hair.

“Just… stay.” He sighs in defeat, shoulders relaxing as he holds you close. He doesn’t need medicine. He doesn’t need anything else. He just needs you. Why can’t you understand that?

“I’ll–” You breathe, trying to force the flush of your cheeks to disappear. He can see in the dark, you know that much. You wouldn’t want him seeing this. The effect he has over you. Doesn’t he know how dangerous he is?

“I’ll stay.”You sigh in defeat, unaware to the pride that blooms in his chest at the battle won. The quiet chirp from his throat that he has you here, with him. Where you’re meant to be.

Hours pass just like that, just the two of you wrapped in each other's arms. No words spoken but quiet requests to know the other is okay. That the other is safe. Even as your muscles begin to cramp, bones start to become sore you don’t dare to move. Don’t dare to do a thing when you are the only one that matters to him right now.

Jimin makes it so easy to pretend.

Especially as his migraine begins to lift, as the conversation between two souls becomes more frequent. As he moves your body to the side so your head can rest against his chest. As his fingers smoothe over the skin of your thigh, rubbing gentle, comforting circles into your flesh.

“And then Namjoon, you know how bad a flyer he is, ran straight into the director of the park. Made her spill her whole coffee all over.” He smiles to himself as he tells the story of the bee hybrid, eyes heavy as he looks down at your form. So cute and small, “and you know what he said?”

You shake your head, “what?”

“‘You need some honey?’” He recites, dipping his voice in a deeper octave to mimic what you can only assume to be Namjoon’s. His voice falling into quiet giggles, you quickly follow suit. Laughing at stories of friends, feeling at home in the dark closet.

You don’t care how long the two of you have been in there. Only that he isn’t in pain anymore.

“I’m glad you’re okay now.” You tell him, eyes feeling heavy, the soothing tremor of his voice vibrating in his chest making your head start to fog. Inklings of sleep slipping into your frame. Head lulling back against him, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

He nods, his throat constricting at just how perfect you look there, fingers teetering on the brink of digging into your skin once more. “Feeling a lot better… my vision is still a little spotty but it's okay.”

You pout. He has to hold back a coo. Too cute. Do you even know how cute you are when you get like this? Probably not.

“No, it’s not okay. I should have known. Told you to go back inside so you don’t get hurt. I don’t like it when you get hurt.”

His heart pounds once, twice before he releases a shaky exhale. Do you know what you do to him when you talk like that? When you show him just how much you care?

The level of restraint he has, it has to be impressive. If he was Taehyung, he would have taken you right there. Wrapped your arms in webs so you couldn’t move. Mate you without a second thought.

Seriously, what did you think you were doing? Talking to him like that? Making him feel like he’s going insane, a few short strings from breaking free and just taking you to his nest. Keeping you there.

You can’t say things like that to him. Not with how innocent you look, with how terribly he already wants you.

A harsh breath comes out of his nose as he forces the thoughts away. He’s not Taehyung. He’s not going to take you for his own selfish desires alone. No, he’s going to keep lulling you into his web like he knows you want. Knows you need. Keep being a good little spider for you.

“I should have told you.” He says quietly, lips coming down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, “Couldn’t have known my species is sensitive like that.”

You hum in quiet annoyance, “Still… read online about some glasses that can help some insects manage light… should have bought them.”

A courting gift? No no, you don’t know what that is. No matter what his spider screams he knows that isn’t true.

He sighs, he needs a distraction. Something to calm the voice in his head screaming at him to kiss you.

Your leg kicks out gently as he starts, feeling like nothing but a feather tickling across your skin. Gentle silks laying across the surface from his wrists, spinnerets hard at work to produce the webbing he places on your thigh.

He huffs quietly, a smirk of a laugh coming out as he moves your leg back, “Tickles?” He asks, an amused lilt present in his voice. Oh god, he’s going to start teasing you again. He loves teasing you.

“What are you doing?” You ask quietly, eyes glancing down to where his fingers move expertly. Thread after thread moving through his fingers, decorating your skin as he draws pictures. Paints flowers, sunsets, anything he can think of really across the canvas of your thigh.

“Just drawing… calms me down.” Marking you, claiming you. Showing every other arthropod that this one is his, this one is Jimins’. Well, at least for the next 3 days when the stick wears off. “Do you want me to stop?”

A tingle runs through your spine as he works, eyes not able to leave his hands for even a second. Your stomach swarms with what has to be a hive of bees, your core bubbling with something you don’t want to describe or think about.

You just hope he can’t smell you. Can’t hear the race of your heart, the increase in breath. The flush on your cheeks that travels all the way to your ears.

He can.

“N-no… It’s okay. I want you to feel better so… do what you need to do.” You mumble, trying to get your feelings to calm down before you fully lose it.

You have to buy those glasses.

Being a spider is just too difficult!

At least that’s what Jimin has told you time and time again over the past 8 months you’ve spent with him. Cold, icy months blossoming into the summer heat with him by your side. With him making residence in your home, cementing his place in your life without any regards for going back to his original home.

It’s too hard for him out there anyway! People at the park think you’re scary so they won’t give you any snacks, security removes your webs when they become too prominent around the landscape. Something about having to “give other spiders a chance” and them “taking up too much space.”

Can you believe them?! All the time and effort he put into his pretty webs, gone in a flash! The strain the sun caused his eyes, the pounding headaches he endured stringing up pieces of silk along the trees, creating a beautiful orchestra of white to claim his territory.

Thank god he doesn’t have to deal with that anymore, at least. Ever since you bought him those sunglasses, making webs outside has never been easier. Catching prey so much easier than ever before.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the sight of him eating the bugs he catches, but who are you to yuck his yum? You know all of the things he’s had to endure as a spider. Everything he’s convinced the world hates him for simply based on his breed alone. The least you can do is show kindness around his diet.

That’s how you end up rubbing his back in soothing circles time and time again, fangs piercing a stuffed animal or piece of fruit– anything he can get his hands on really, as he whines, flinches as he spits out all of his venom.

His venom is one of the worst things he’s had to deal with, you’ve learned. It builds up behind his teeth, waiting to be used on a waiting victim when there is no such thing. No exit point for the liquid to flow.

His fangs begin to ache, begging to pierce something just to release all of the pent up tension in his gums. It hurts too bad, too much to just keep it inside. So once a month, you find yourself in the same position, trying to help him relieve the aggression with soothing, gentle words as he spits the venom out in a way you can only imagine is unsatisfying. Leaving his fangs sensitive and achy for days to come.

In general, his fangs seem to be a point of special contention within the hybrid. They’re too pointy, cause too many issues. The extended canines digging into his plush lower lip just a little too hard making every movement just a little too uncomfortable. God, and he has to worry about brushing them to perfection– keep them pretty for his mate.

At least, that’s what he tells you.

The rest of the world hurts him. You don’t.

Today especially. At least that's what you can assume by the stretch of his arms, the whine bubbling from the back of his throat. His arms reaching for your form, beckoning you, calling you to join him on the couch. All worked up, acting like a wounded puppy that needs nursing just to get your attention.

It always works. Always will.

Some would say he’s become more pushy— more desperate for your attention, forcing it from your grasp without realizing it yourself. That’s what your friends have told you. How easily you fit into the palm of his hand with no more than a simple gesture coaxing you forward into his sweet embrace, never noticing the glares he sends others who enter your home.

No, you would deny all of it. Listen when he tells you that you don’t need your friends anyway. It just feels so good to be needed by him, wanted by him in a way you can never have him. In whatever way he’s willing to give.

r weakness than ever before. No matter how much you’ve tried to avoid it, how much you’ve tried to do the right thing and shove the stupid, pesky feelings down, he’s managed to twist himself into the confines of your heart. Filling a deep hole inside with his pretty silks and crooked little teeth. Takes up a lot more space then you’d ever be willing to admit. Not to him, anyway. Not when he could find his mate any day now.

You’ve been thinking about it more and more lately– the prospect of his mate. It’s difficult not to when he treats you so kindly. When he creeps in your bed at night to cold you, when he reaches out for your comfort alone. When he graces your neck with his fangs his lips–

You drop the dishes back in the sink, shoving your thoughts back into the deep dark recesses of your mind. Maybe if you can be his comfort for now, that will be enough. Even if it isn’t right.

Maybe that’s just how far you’ve fallen, how much he’s tangled you in his embrace. Not that it matters much, you smile all the same. Abandoning your task on only his third whine and fourth dramatic roll of the night. Giving in is so easy when it’s him.

But! It’s a new record for how long you’ve held out! Even got two stomps out of him. You should be proud of yourself.

Maybe you are, though it's for different reasons entirely as Jimin grabs at your wrists, pulling you down beside him. Nudging his face into the crook of your neck with a quiet, pained whine.

You like to ignore those other reasons. They’ll only hurt more if you face them head on. But it's hard to, so hard when he’s this close. When he’s holding you like you may just be the very thing from shattering his world apart.

Or maybe you’re over thinking things.

Yeah. It’s probably that.

“Y/n…” You feel his lips ghost your neck as he whines, wiggling slightly in discomfort.

His duality is always impressive, has been making your brain go a little haywire since he first moved in, since he became more comfortable in your presence. Letting you see him for what he really is. Always playing so cute, so pliant when he needs something– attention, food, for you to just give in and give him what he wants.

Other times he acts as if he could be the reincarnation of Arachne herself. Beautiful, deceptive. Terrifyingly aware of how attractive he is to the human eye. You think he does it on purpose. Likes to see your head spin as you try to keep up with which apparition of Jimin you will experience that day.

He doesn’t know how dangerous it can be, especially for you. How easy it can be to believe that it's real and not just the flirt of his personality. At least you have cute Jimin for now. It’s a little easier to manage.

“You okay Minnie? Something happen?” Your arm reaches up for where he clings to it, fingers gently petting through his fluffy blonde hair. The action seems to soothe him, make him almost pur from the feeling of your fingers alone. Make him feel the slightest bit better from whatever might be irritating him.

He forces his wrists onto your lap, nuzzles his face further into your neck. Inhale all the scents you have to offer. Let you see the issue of spiders.

The tiny holes of his spinnerets come into view, red and inflamed. Shit. They have to be hurting. The skin jutting out slightly more than it should be. Pretty strings of silk hanging in a messy manner. Clogged glands always hurt. Always make for issues.

You frown at the sight, delicately taking his wrist into your hand, looking at it closer. No, not too bad you have to take him to the doctor… you can handle it fine. But it won’t feel good, it never does. Dummy must’ve gotten too excited while webbing up the basement again, got his poor spinnerets working too hard. Overproducing silk to the point it has nowhere to go.

“Min!” You whine, already grabbing a pair of tweezers from the side-table– you’ve learned it’s always good to have a pair on-hand. “I told you that you gotta be more careful!”

“I know!” He hisses almost pathetically, “Just got ahead of myself!”

His voice is no more than a grumble, turning his head away from you yet not pulling away in the slightest. Pretending he hates when you scold him, when you show just how much you care about him.

You pretend it isn’t cute in much the same way.

“Always end up getting ahead of yourself,” You sigh dramatically, acting as if having to take care of the arachnid bothers you more than it actually does. Truth be told, you don’t care in the slightest. Who knows, maybe it even makes you preen in delight.

Feeling wanted as your fingers try to be as gentle as possible while removing the silk. Pulling out the little pieces strand by strand, work out the knot it's made under the skin to try and bring him some relief.

Though, no matter how careful you may be, he still flinches in pain all the same. Trying to cover it up like it was nothing, like every poke and prod doesn’t hurt. Like he can be tough under your gentle hands and pained gaze. He knows it has to be done and no matter how much you hate to see him in pain, you do too.

The dull ache will grow worse and worse, could even turn into an infection if you don't handle it as fast as possible. Worst case? He may have to have his spinnerets removed completely. A fate that feels worse than death to a spider hybrid– or so you’ve read at least.

Soon after he came into your life you did everything in your power to learn as much about his species as possible. Scoured webpage upon webpage, blog post on blog post, youtube video after youtube video. Even went down the sticky threads of a reddit rabbithole to try and learn everything about him.

The only thing you found: how horrible arthropod hybrids are treated in your society. Either sold at auction for absurd prices or cast aside completely depending on how “inhuman” they look. How they are used as tools to show wealth or are discarded from the rest of the world completely. The notion alone had pissed you off to no end.

Jimin was a member of the latter group– or at least that’s what you assumed. From behind no one would be able to tell he was any less than human. His lack of multiple limbs or fluttering wings left him to the devices of the reserve. Probably cast aside, dropped off by the people that raised him for not providing anything that went along with their definition of ‘value’.

Your eyes pinch into a quiet glare. They’re just fucking stupid. Anyone could see that Jimin is perfect. Anyone could see that he did not deserve the treatment he's received, nor deserved to be in the state he was in when you first found him.

And while you’re glad he didn’t end up with anyone else, still didn’t end up in an auction house like many others had, you hate them for thinking they could define his value. That they could define him for more than what he lacked. He still has beautiful fangs. Still has beautiful eyes and his natural cobalt-blue hair. He is still perfect to you.

A sharp hiss leaves his lips, arm attempting to jerk back from your hold as your grip tightens just a hair too hard. As you accidentally tug on a far too sensitive part of the knot. Getting a little too lost in your head while your fingers pick away diligently. Trying to ease the pain as fast as you can.

“Human!” He whines, quickly shushed by a flurry of apologies leaving your mouth. Face flushed, panic in your eyes as he admonishes you.

Once again you’re reminded all too well of how far you’ve fallen for him. Heart racing, brain yelling at itself for hurting him.

It’s dumb, you know that. Everything about the schoolgirl crush you’ve formed on him is. But it doesn’t stop the frown on your lips, the gentle rub of your fingers into his skin as you try to make it up to him.

A quiet grumble leaves his lips, heart hurting at the little dejected expression you wear. He forgives better than he forgets, moving his arms back to the pillow propped on your lap, allowing you to continue your work.

A pout stays on his lips as he watches your hands move. Watches the way the tweezers move under the thin layer of skin. Watches the way you move softer now, taking your time with him. Trying your utmost to not hurt him again.

To you it feels far too intimate. To him, it leaves him almost feral.

“Been working really hard on them lately, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds, trying to distract him or yourself from wandering thoughts– you’re not sure. He’s almost clean– almost all better so you can stop playing nurse. Get a warm washcloth to soothe the skin, take away any ache that lasts from the overused glands.

He nods, “Autumn is coming up…” He mumbles, the words leaving his lips in almost a shy fashion. Like it’s a secret that isn’t a secret at all in the coy fashion he knows you adore.

He knows all too well all of the things that make your stomach flutter. Listens to your heart beat like it’s his favourite song, the flush of your cheeks his favourite painting. Every little twitch of your lip or tap of your feet he catches with ease. You are his favourite everything.

You’ve become far more interesting than any book, far more gorgeous than any actress. Learned to read you better than yourself.But he supposes that would happen to any hybrid who had to wait as long as him, endure as much as he has.

Humans are tricky things, you know? You have to wait and wait and wait just for them to finally give into what they really want. Play the long game to win a prize at the end like he wants, deserves.

He’ll win it soon. August.

“Mmm? Having a contest with the house spiders or something?” You giggle, an effort to try and keep the atmosphere as light as possible. Try to distract from any pain he may be feeling at the moment.

Jimin is convinced he can speak to them– the house spiders that you allow to stay in the corners of your house. Another one of Jimin’s pitfalls that you couldn’t help but wonder into. He claims that they’re his friends, that he talks to them all the time. You, on the other hand, are unconvinced. They probably just use him for food!

“How did you know?! Who told you!” He gasps in mock surprise, head dipping low to rest on your shoulder before he continues, “No, not this time…they all know I would win anyway.”

“I know you would,” He doesn’t allow you in the basement to look at them, at least he hasn’t in the last month, but you’ve seen plenty strung around the house. Dotted in the corners of each room, his way of claiming territory. “You’ve always got such pretty silk.”

His face flushes– he knows you can’t see it. It’s good if you don’t, better if you have no clue how much your words affect him. Exactly how much those words mean to him.

Hopefully you will soon enough. Hopefully, if things go according to plan, you’ll know a lot of things. But right now you just need to stay a little clueless. Just for a little longer.

That’s what he promises to himself.

“What’s happening in autumn then?” You ask, finally pulling the last bit of silk from his left wrist. Both finally clean, finally working like they should be.

Taking each wrist into one of your hands, your thumbs find the openings to the spinnerets. Fingers rubbing gentle, soothing circles into the flesh. Your version of a little makeshift massage. One that always causes him to fall apart under. Spine slumping, mouth parting slightly as he watches your fingers work. His brain going a little empty along with the soothing motion of your fingertips.

Another thing that you don’t understand the intimacy of. The extent of what your touch means to him. How terribly it makes him want to bite you.

His voice is a pitch lower than before. You can’t help but notice the way his breath stutters in his throat at the gentle movement of your thumbs. The way his pupils expand ever so slightly. The way he leans into your touch, avoids eye contact at all costs.

You can’t help the blush that dusts your cheeks, the flutter of your ribcage. The way you keep going just because you know it’s making him feel good.

Stop it! You’re thinking in a bad way again! It isn't right! It’s just from the massage, the relief after his spinnerets are cleared! God, you can’t think about him like this. Can’t do this to yourself! Calm down, seriously. None of this is a big deal.

You know he can hear fast your heart is beating regardless of the argument going on inside of your brain.

“Autumn is mating season.” Your thumbs stutter.

Oh. That is something all of the articles definitely neglected to tell you. They didn’t tell you anything about… that aspect of spiders. Not that they explained much to begin with but certainly nothing about breeding.

You can’t help the way your grip tightens, trying to find purchase– stability at the revelation. Heart thrumming in your chest faster, more aggravated than before. The chill that travels down your spine with the hum of his voice so close to your ear.

Can’t help the sinch of jealousy that finds you either.

Fuck, you hate that he’s smirking– without even looking at his face you can tell! You know he can hear the exact pitter-patter of your heart, any little sound or smell you let out he can easily pick up. Knows your exact emotions before you know them yourself.

“Ah… I see.” This topic really shouldn’t make you so embarrassed! Pull yourself together!

You know that all hybrids have a cycle they go through. Heats, ruts, anything in between. You knew that when Jimin came into your life he would be the same! Knew there would be a time when he’d have to lock himself in the basement, body flooded with hormones. The pretty sounds you’d have to block out filling the house.

But still, because it’s him, you can’t help the nerves that arise from your core. The realisation that it would be coming sometime soon.

If you’re going to make it through you’d have to invest in some soundproof headphones. For your own sanity.

“Mmm?” He smiles, voice sweet and saccharine. Away with the pain of existing also left cute Jimin, leaving a deadly predator in its wake. One that likes to taunt and tease you while acting as innocent as an angel.

Leaves your brain confused, floundering trying to keep up with his deceptively sweet tongue. Doing it all just to get a cute little reaction out of you.

Guess he picked up on the exact little whirlwind of your mind, “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed…”

“Shut up!” You whine, trying to stand from the couch so you can retrieve a washcloth. Try to avoid the way your heart is going to pound out of your chest, the way you know you’ll fall farther into his clutches.

His arms lock on firm, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck to rub his cheeks against your skin. Scent you just like he does a million times a day claiming that it's necessary. Spiders smell so much less than other hybrids– he has to do it or else.

Or at least that’s what he says– you think that it’s another lie.

“What!” He laughs, “Not like I’m saying anything dirty, it’s only natural.” He chides, sliding back against the couch, pulling you into his side with ease. Slotting you in like you’re meant to fit there, not whatever mate he meets in the future.

Your brain yells at itself. You know how dangerous that line of thinking is.

“Unless you want me to be dirty? I could if I wanted, you know.” He smiles as innocently as a wolf, fangs oozing with confidence behind them.

“Oh my god!” You sigh dramatically, putting on the front you always do when your heart feels like it may just explode. When you feel like digging an early grave because Jimin knows exactly what he’s doing.

You simply roll your eyes, “And I could punch you in the dick if I wanted to, you know?”

His laugh is always so pretty, boisterous yet still as light as air. Head tilting back, his neck on display as he chastises you for the empty threat. One you both know won’t come true, at least not right now.

He smiles, a gentle kiss being placed on your forehead as he urges you to stay. Promising he’ll be a ‘good little spider’ so you don’t have to worry about him. The implication of snacks and movies making you stay. The way he pouts when you tell him you’re not buying anymore BugBitez™ until the end of the week confirming that this is where you need to be right now. That it’s right.

It’s almost too easy for him too. Everything is too easy for you when it comes to Jimin. He claims the exact same.

Or at least, that’s what he mumbles in your ear now. Arms wrapped around you as tight as he can manage. Movie nearing its end with Jimin on the cusp of consciousness, you having lost the plot of it a long time ago.

Something about Aliens? Cowboys? Mothman? You couldn’t even hope to guess. Not when his breath is in your ear.

It’s hard to focus when he’s so close like this. When he’s saying pretty words that could get you lost in your fantasy over and over again. Making him harder and harder to give him up every moment that passes you by.

“Got lucky with my human.” He mumbles, half asleep, face buried in your hair, “Really good human.”

His lips move so lazily when they speak. Fangs running across the surface your skin like they have a mind of their own. Never daring to pierce the surface. Never daring to bite you for real. No matter how bad he really, really wants to.

How bad he wants to mate you. Make you his pliant little prey– see if the rumours about what his venom does to humans is real.

Your breath stutters but you pay it no mind. Trying, begging your eyes to remain focused on the movie. To ignore how deceptive sleepy Jimin is. Tomorrow, he will act as normal. His words will carry no weight.

He isn’t your boyfriend. You aren’t his mate. You two are just friends sharing a house.

Feelings you have no right to have are forced down over and over again. It seems like it's become a daily occurrence– a pattern of habit you have no hope in breaking. The love piling behind your eyelids means nothing when the person he is meant to be with could be around any corner.

But it’s getting harder. Too hard to hold them back and restrain yourself. Especially on nights like this when it feels like fate that the two of you met.

Thinking back on that fateful day now, all of those months ago, you’re sure it had to have been. Maybe the winter gods (if such a thing existed) decided to shine their light on you; to make the blizzard a little less lonely. Make your life filled with long days and even longer nights just a little bit brighter.

Or maybe they hated you and wanted you to suffer.

Wanted you to live a life knowing your affections will never be reciprocated, knowing that Jimin has a fated one out there somewhere just waiting for him. Knowing that it isn’t you. Cursing you to a life of watching Jimin fall for another.

Thinking becomes so hard when it’s about Jimin. When it’s about the man who made you so far into the pits of hell that you don’t think you’ll ever crawl out.

So instead your fingers simply squeeze his hand. Rub gentle, soothing circles into the skin. Care for him like you’re meant to instead of thinking about what the future may hold. What will happen when he does find his mate. What they might be like, what they might dress like, if they’ll have to move in here, if you’ll have to watch him fall in love over and over again every single day.

You think you might hate them.

You sigh.

No, that wouldn’t be fair. Could never be fair to Min. He deserves happiness. He deserves the world whether or not you’re a part of it.

You hope he isn’t able to pick up on the changes in your scent.

“Mmm mm, got lucky with you Min.”

August 11th.

A beautiful dream shattered by the incoherent nightmare that is your spider pacing around your room. A pillow pulled to either side of your head, doing everything in their power to drown out the noise as an audible groan leaves your lips. His nervous prattling too early in the morning for your liking.

Any other day it would be fine, you would think that it’s cute. The way he worries his lip between his teeth. The way he gently bites down on the pad of his thumb, one arm crossed while the other soothes the skin of his chin.

Any other day you’d sit in bed, listen to him. Mock him slightly with how much worry runs through his body.

But he isn’t talking about his mate any other day, is he? No, it seems that the occasion has been saved for this morning. His head running a mile a minute, losing all composure he once had before. Losing his very sense of self as anxiety courses through his veins.

“What if it isn’t good enough? I need to present it to her soon. Need to make sure everything is perfect for her.” Apparently he had met her. When? You have not a single clue. Jimin hasn’t left the house in weeks other than to go hunt bugs and to go to the grocery store with you.

“What if the web isn’t big enough? She might not like the style either…” He grumbles, eyes locked on the carpet as he moves back and forth across your room, “God and what if she hates the food… No, no you know what she likes.”

“Jimin, she’ll like everything. It will be fine.” You groan, sitting up in bed to face him, voice gruff with morning air.. You don’t want him to be in here, talking about this. Talking to you about this. Shattering your heart every second that passes by.

You knew it would happen someday, you really did. You tried to do everything right. Tried to pretend reality wasn’t creeping through your windows with every second that passes by. Try to ignore the impending sense of doom that covered your skin.

Did everything right only to end up failing once again due to the rations of Park Jimin.

You try to look at him through the fuzz in your eyes, sleep still trying to force you back into its clutches with everything that it has. Try to see what he is doing– understand what he is saying. His voice continuing to speak yet not fluent enough for you to actually understand. His body twitches ever so slightly, head jerking as his teeth dig deeper and deeper into his thumb. It was almost like you weren’t even in the room– not to him at least. Lost within the tangles of his brain.

Pulling himself deeper and deeper into the recesses of his mind, spiralling out of control of everything that seems rational, everything that he is meant to do or meant to say. It’s almost like he isn’t in the room at all. Isn’t pacing along your floor, surrounded by your scent. Comforting his inner spider before it loses control entirely with the hormones that rush through his veins.

August 11th. The date was circled 5 times on his calendar– red exclamation points, doodles scattered across the stupid day. Yet now, for the life of him he can’t seem to remember why. He can’t seem to remember much of anything though, so that isn’t a surprise. Only his web. The gifts he’s prepared for this day. Yeah. Those are the only things he can seem to think about.

A hand lands on his shoulder– one that isn’t his own. Who’s touching him? He isn’t sure. Isn’t sure of much other than the smell combing through the room that becomes sweeter and sweeter by the second. Honey he is unable to resist.

Especially with how soft the hand is that touches him. How gentle it is on his shoulder, his pace back and forth falling just so he can revel in it. Understand it.

“Hey Min.” Oh. It’s you. Your voice coming through the fog. Your voice startling him from the dream.

Gorgeous, gorgeous you.

Mate.

“It’s gonna be okay, yeah?” Why do you sound sad? No, maybe it’s distressed. His face falls.

No, no, no. You shouldn’t be sad. You should never be sad. You should always be happy with him. You should love him. His love should make you whole. Your love makes him whole.

Wait, does he have your love yet?

Now he isn’t sure.

All he knows is that he should. You should. He should wrap you up in his nest, hold you close until you feel nothing but him. Don’t think about anybody else. Look at anybody else. You should always be happy and safe. Happy and safe with him just like he feels with you. Has always felt with you.

More than that stupid reserve. More than his webs back there. It was fate that brought the two of you together, right? Right? So he should be allowed to indulge just a little. He should be allowed to let go of this stupid, fucked up play he’s been putting on for so long. He should be allowed to do whatever he wants.

The reserve always taught him he was a wild spider, you know?

Wait, spider.

Spider.

His rut. That’s what’s coming today. That’s why the day was circled. That’s why Jimin isn’t acting like himself. That’s why his spider is itching, clawing to come out to play. Why he so desperately wants all of you to himself.

He hasn’t even presented his web yet.

He tilts his head at you, blank eyes staring down into bright ones. Ones that hold his entire world at your fingertips.

“There he is.” Your smile is almost blinding. Makes his head pound just like the sun's rays.

That’s right. That’s why he needs to keep his composure. To keep that smile on your lips. To keep you happy. To keep you falling in love with him slowly the human way. The way he knows you’d prefer. Knows you adore every second of.

He isn’t Taehyung. He isn’t Taehyung.

The human way is better. Better at keeping you pliant. Better at keeping you happy. Better at keeping you unafraid.

He hates when people are scared of him. Hates when people flinch with every movement he makes. Hates when people can’t just love him like he so craves. He’s still a hybrid. He still wants love. He was bred for it just like the rest of them.

So when you came into his life, so gentle and caring despite the palpable fear that scented the air– weighed it heavily, it sparked light behind his eyes. When he felt you touch him, felt the sparks dance across his flesh and allowed himself to inhale once more. When there were no traces of fear within you, only the scent of his mate. His eternity.

He knew he had to do the right thing. Had to make you love him the human way. Had to make you fall for him, endure the wait. Endure the daily struggles of his instincts just so you would never be afraid of him. The end would be worth it.

He would never let you fear him even at the cost of his own sanity.

Because he isn’t Taehyung. He’s Jimin. He’s a good spider.

“You need to be careful Min…” You tell him quietly. Your voice is the only anchor to his shaky world. The light brought him back from the edge over and over again today.

He needs to leave your room before all of his planning goes to waste. Calm himself down. Present to you his web and all of his gifts so you can accept him properly.

“Your thumb… it’s bleeding honey…” He tilts his head again, inspects your hands as they move closer. Tries to force lucid thought from behind his heavy eyelids as you touch his skin directly.

Tries to ignore the throb deep inside as you gently remove the finger from his lips. Pull it away from the fang that was piercing him. The sting of the bite.

He hadn’t even noticed it.

He watches as a single drop spills from the abrasion. Slipping down his finger. Feels the way your hands come up to cup his cheeks.

Leave. Leave. Leave.

The way your thumb comes to his lips, worry etched across your features as you swipe away any remaining blood from his lower lip.

Leave. He needs to leave.

He isn’t sure how your finger ends up in his mouth. His plush lips wrapping around the digit, tongue curling around your flesh as he licks away the red spilled. Sucking on it gently as heat curls in his stomach. His eyes half-lidded, staring into the recesses of your very soul.

A groan passes through him at the taste of your skin. How sweet you are against his tongue. Do you even know what a vixen you are? What a tease you’ve come to be over the past 9 months?

No. Of course you don’t. Not with the blush that rushes to your cheeks. The stutter of his name that passes through his lips. The questions that you ask– what are you doing? Wh-why?

He wants you to be quiet. To enjoy you for all it’s worth. Enjoy everything you have to offer.

The command is silent– no more than the press of his bleeding thumb to your lips. The demand that you part them for him. To clean that wound that you unknowingly caused.

A hand on your cheek directing your head back. He’s been a good little spider, you can be a good little girl too, can’t you?

You are.

“J-Jimi–” He slips it inside, resting the pad against your tongue. Holding it in place. Asking, begging for this one little thing from you. You don’t mind, do you? You’ve always made him feel better before. This is no different, is it?

And so you do.

He watches the way your eyelids fall, your lips close as you begin to gently suck against it like he so craves. Like he desires down to the very cells that make up his body.

To imagine it’s his cock instead. Gently fucking into you over and over again, teaching you how to take his it how he likes. How he knows you’ll like. You’ll love everything about him. You’re meant to. It’s in the fabric of your DNA and soon it will all be his. Right after he shows you his–

Shit.

He needs to leave.

Got carried away in his fantasy. In pretending again.

His rut is coming too fast, too strong now that he finally has his mate in his grasp. He needs to leave. He needs to calm down so he can go this properly.

He leaves you on the bed, more confused and distressed than when he first entered. Annoyance hovering over your entire wake in a blanket of unrest. One that you know will not ease your soul for the rest of the day.

The spider has locked himself away. Hiding from you. Keeping himself in the basement, door locked, shutters drawn to drown out any sense of you that may be persisting.

You, on the other hand, have had nothing to do but stew in your own emotions. Think about every little decrepit detail that occurred hours prior. Edicting yourself to only address him by spider even in your thoughts.

It’s spiteful, sure. But it’s the least he deserves, you know? After everything he’s put you though– pulling you along like a little puppet on a string. Making you sit idly by for him to give you any lick of affection he’s willing to part with. Making you feel special, like you're worth something every second that he gets only for him to remind you with too much familiarity that he isn’t yours to have.

He woke you up, told you about his mate, looked at you like he was going to fuck you, and made you suck on his finger only for him to leave? The sheer fucking audacity of this man.

You’re sick of it.

Sick of having to force everything down because you know it isn’t what he wants. Sick of falling in love with him every day. Sick of having to play house. Sick of not having him. Sick of being playing the lovesick fool.

So, into the novels you fall. Into alternate worlds that are far better than your own. Displacing yourself into new habitats, new environments to escape the confines of the four stuffy walls that surround your body, head, and heart.

Into a world where it’s okay to fall in love with whoever you want. Where it’s okay to feel wanted. Where reality can be shut away by your headphones and a good snack. Where you can ignore the body approaching behind you. The tap on your shoulder.

You try to, honestly. And a good attempt it was.

Keeping your grip firm on the pages, nails digging into the paper below. Breath in your lungs held as if doing so would keep him away. Eyes tracing the pages over and over again though reading nothing. Attempting to appear as if you didn’t notice him at all.

Maybe he would leave, that was your biggest hope. Take the headphones placed firmly over your ears as a loud, obnoxious hint. That he would see you’re not interested and retreat to his basement layer to plot on the next way to torture your heart.

He doesn’t. He never would.

His frame comes to kneel in front of you. To stare up at you with those big brown doe eyes that you know you could never escape. Placing a gentle hand on your knee, trying to get you to see that he is there. That he wants to see you.

You see his lips move, though ignore entirely what they say. Letting out a huff, turning your body away from his own. Continuing to mindlessly stare at the pages even though their contents holds no meaning in this moment. No real value.

His forehead drops to your leg, a sigh leaving his throat. Words mumbled from his lips you’re unable to make out– not that you would want to hear them anyway.

Maybe it’s a temper tantrum of sorts. Giving him a taste of his own medicine. To feel even a pinch of what you do. He probably never does.

Your fight is a good one. It truly is– at least you think so. But it all comes tumbling down the second his lips press against your knee. His hands reaching past your iron grip on the book to hold your own.

You will always fall to the likes of Jimin.

Especially when you see his lips mouth the word please. His brows crested with worry, his lower lip quivering in worry. Fangs biting the surface to try and soothe the nerves he feels.

Any sense of foreboding he held earlier, gone. The tick of his shoulders, the cold, blank stare of his eyes vanished. Your Jimin, the one you’re used to, in love with, rising to the surface again.

You’re unable to fight against the plea, no matter how much you want to. Unable to fight against him.

“What is it.” Your voice is harsh as you remove your headphones, setting the book to the side. Much more than it appears he’d like it to be if the flinch of his neck is anything to go by.

“I…” Words feel lost in his throat, but he forces himself to continue forward, “I have something I need to show you, human…”

Why is he acting so weird? Acting like earlier never happened? He seems nervous, almost petrified at your reaction. As if anything you say could break him entirely.

You don’t understand it at all. Anything about this situation, really.

“Okay…?” You watch his face carefully, trying to reason. To figure out why exactly the air seems so heavy. Why this situation feels so tense. “Show me then?”

“I…You have to come with me?” It sounds like a question, his face flinching at his own words. He’s meant to do this perfectly. Why can’t he seem to get it right? Why can’t his instincts help him with this? “Like, I can’t bring it up here… I need you to follow me?”

“Huh?” The quiet breath leaves your throat as your features pinch.

He quickly tries to explain further, trying to help you see through the worry on your face, “Not far I promise. Just to the basement, yeah?”

Your head jerks back in surprise, “You never let me go down there.”

“Yeah but…it’s special this time.” Oh.

It’s almost as if the pieces click together on their own. Your brain drawing conclusions, making decisions for you despite the obvious staring right in your face. His mate is probably down there. Wants you to meet her.

You can only sigh, accept your fate for what it is. Follow the boy with the string to the basement once again, just like the first night he came tumbling into your life.

“Okay.”

He holds your hand as you walk.

Holds it as if his life depends on it. As if it’s the red string of fate that has tied your two bodies together for the rest of eternity. As if he might die the second you two part. As if you might run away the second he lets go.

You never do, never try to run away from him. You’ve tried to run away from your feelings for so long. The least you can do is see through to the end of them, right? That would be the right thing to do. The dignified thing instead of trying to throw a tantrum on the floor.

The walk to the basement feels like the longest in your life. A marathon you have no training for, no experience with tugging you along. Silence extended for miles along each creak of the floorboards, each set of the dim stairs.

Jimin left the lights off, dusk settling along the horizon not long ago. Only distant flickers from the basement coming through as you make your way down. Candle light in the distance lighting the way.

He doesn’t say a thing as your feet reach the bottom of the stairs, toes cushioned by soft silk lining the floors. He doesn’t have to.

It’s beautiful. That’s the only way you can describe what he’s turned the basement into.

Beautiful silks cover every waking surface– the floors, the walls, the ceiling all lined in brilliant patterns of white dancing across the surface. Creating stories as if they were living themselves.

You wish you could stare at them. Admire them for the rest of your life. Decipher each piece laying, coating the surface. Envisioning the world through the eyes of Jimin. Through the world around him.

Webs cross from floor to ceiling, taking space over the room. Intricately laid in patterns you are more accustomed to with spiders. Webbed hatching sectioning off parts of the space, acting as furniture for the bug to rest on.

As your eyes scan the room, you finally find what you think has to be the most gorgeous web in the world. Sitting in the far right corner of the room stands a nest that takes up the entire corner. The effort it took to make it clear in its craft. So soft, so comfortable.

You almost want to curl up in it yourself.

Illuminated by only the glow of candle light, Jimin does nothing but watch as you take everything in. Watch as your face changes into that of euphoria. Mesmerised by everything he has worked so hard on, everything he’s done just to impress you.

You turn to face him, staring at him with nothing but wonder in your eyes.

“Jimin, this is– fuck this is incredible,” Your voice is breathless, cut off by how overwhelmed you are with everything. With him. “This must’ve taken you so long, it’s so beautiful. Oh my god, how did you–”

He can’t take it anymore. Can’t take it now that he has you here, has you in his web. Now that he can keep you in it forever. Complimenting him. Completing him. He needs to finish with the rest of this fast. Before he does something he’ll regret. Before he finishes showing you how good a mate he will be to you properly.

He tugs you forward, practically puzzling as he tugs you deeper into his room of webs. Expertly guiding you through each one without a second to spare.

Jittery, excited. Feeting rocking themselves back and forth as he sits you on a blanket placed on the ground.

He isn't going to last much longer. Not before his heat takes over. Before he loses his mind at you in the sight of his nest. His mate in his nest. Waiting to be bred. Waiting for–

No, no Jimin. Stop it. Stop acting like a spiderling that doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he has his mate in his nest.

“I…” He takes a deep breath, voice shaky as he tries to calm himself down, “I made us a picnic… I hope you like it.”

His spider hisses at the words, hating having to describe it as something stupid like a picnic. No, it's a nuptial gift. Evidence that he’s a good enough mate. That he’s good enough for you. That he deserves you.

You watch him, watch as he pushes the basket filled to the brim with food over to you. Watch as his frame shakes slightly as he stares at you, fingers tapping against strings of webs closest to your leg.

You can’t help but feel lost. Overwhelmed with affection, but utterly, entirely, hopelessly lost all the same. What is he doing? Why is he presenting all of this for you? Shouldn’t he be doing this for his mate? Isn’t all of this some type of courting ritual?

Oh.

It appears the puzzle you constructed– pieces matched together haphazardly stuck together with glue isn’t the solution after all. Isn’t the reality presented before you know.

You’re… you’re Jimin’s mate?

Your eyes widen, head jerking to meet Jimin’s gaze. His pupils shaky, not daring to leave the surface of the basket. Not daring to move an inch until you accept him.

You’re an idiot.

“J-Jimin a-are we…?” You hesitate to ask, hesitate to break the gentle balance residing over the entire basement.

His head snaps to face your own, eyes plagued with the same blank, predatory look as before.

“Mate.” Deep, harsh, scratchy. His voice makes you feel like he’s going to devour you whole. Like he is the monster waiting in the deepest recesses of your nightmares when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. When in reality he is the very being your soul yearns for stronger than any other.

The revelation, the– everything leaves you overwhelmed. Emotions strung up for the stars, casting aside any comets that tried to hurdle towards the perfect glass encasing this moment. This eternity you wish to live in forever as you finally understand that he wants you just as much as you want him.

You can’t help but grab his cheeks– ignore how venomous he looks, and press your lips against his own. Can’t help the explosion behind your eyelids, the sparks that travel across your skins in euphoric waves. The way your heart swells like a balloon, racing in your chest so fast you fear you may die.

Every emotion you’ve felt that day, every nagging, creeping sensation finding its way into the back of your skull vanishes in an instant. No going back. No orchestra or chorus reprise. No thoughts of not being his mate. You are his mate.

Only him.

Only Jimin.

He doesn’t part with you, not for a second. Not when he finally has you against him. When you so easily rise into his lap. When his natural instincts finally stop screaming at him and take over completely. Kiss you with everything he’s worth. Devour you whole.

His hands find purchase on your hips, blunt nails digging into the skin. Mocking him for not doing this in the closet with you all those months ago. Allowing him to truly understand how good it would’ve felt then. How good it will feel every second that follows.

He thinks you have to be the prettiest thing in the world.

His spider thinks that you need to be bred full of his spiderlings. Fucked so hard that you wont be able to walk– wont be able to leave his nest. That he’ll be able to tie you up nice and pretty, stuff you with his cum over and over again until you’d never even think about leaving.

His spider is winning.

“Min…” Your voice is breathless, trying to keep up with the flurry of kisses he presses against your lips, your face– anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s addicted to the feeling, like he’s making up for lost time.

“Min, I love you.” And just like that, any sanity he has left vanishes.

His spider has won.

Without a second thought you’re lifted from your place on his lap, thrown carelessly into his nest. His nest where you will stay. His nest where he’ll keep you. All thoughts vanished from that pretty little head of yours. Just like it should be.

His hands find the back of his collar, shirt discarded without a second thought on the floor. He doesn’t need it anymore. Not when he has you. When he wants to feel you fully.

You can only stare– fawn at his tan skin. The gentle muscles on display for you. For your eyes only while he crawls towards you. Stalks you just like they might a pretty little butterfly caught in their web. Wrapped in webs and killed without a second thought.

His lips find yours once again. Slotting together, filling the other to make them whole. Dazed in lust and passion, neither soul hoping there would ever be a way out for the other.

Well, there won’t be for you. But that’s okay. You’ll love it. Love every second of it.

He knows it as his fingers dance against your skin. Sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, running with skilled ease up your sides. The chill that racks through your body is evidence enough. The way you so easily allow him to draw your shirt over your head solidifies it. Your shorts follow, making it set in stone.

Your breath comes out in short pants, every slight touch, every little movement sends fire burning through your skin. Igniting you, setting your core ablaze with heat that only he can extinguish.

Fingers gently sliding over your ribs, thumbs coming just blow your breasts to rub circles into the skin while his fangs nip gently into your lower lip. He can’t bite you now. No, after he mates you he can bite you all he wants.

He groans at the thought, hips rocking themselves against your clothed cunt. Allowing you to feel all of him– the press of his cock, the motion of his need allowing you to fall higher and higher into a heaven you did not think possible.

You whine at him to do something, anything. Too impatient to wait any longer. Too impatient to live a second more without something, anything buried inside of you.

His smile is sick, twisted as he reclines back on his heels. Allows himself to get a good look at you.

“Shh, Shh…” His hand cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb against your lips. Pressing it inside with more ease than before. More compliance than before. There’s a good little girl.

“Poor thing is having a hard time, huh?” He mocks gently, hips pressed firm against your own allowing you to feel every inch of him, “Pretty lips all swollen, pussy a little mess from just kissing… mm mm…”

He groans, hand slipping between your legs. What he finds is no more than a mess of a girl. Hips bucking upwards. Slick dripping from your center, panties coated in arousal. Puffy little clit begging for any attention he’s willing to give it.

Without any hesitation his thumb finds your clit, pressing against it without any thought of reprieve. Without any thought to give you any of the relief you crave. You’ve made him wait this long, you can wait a second, no?

He groans high as you buck against his hand, mewl leaving your lips as some sort of plea. Ah~ how cute. Such a little thing so desperate for something, anything that you’re willing to give up your very head in return? How cute! How adorable!

His spider preens. Is almost so belated he doesn’t notice the hands that come down to grip his wrist. Hold him in place all so you can circle your hips against his thumb. Rub adorable little rings into your clit without any help from him. Use him to make yourself feel good.

A coo leaves his lips. Who is he to deny such a pretty little human?

“Ah pretty baby wants to feel good, does she?” He almost giggles at how pathetic you look. How adorably you cling to him. How hard you try.

His arm is ripped from your grasp, pulling back from the very place you desire him most. Where your arousal soaks the cotton of cotton, so palpable he can practically taste it in the air.

“It’s okay baby…” He sees the annoyance in your face, the battiness you hold in your heart coming to light. Excited to tame it. Excited to quell the pretty little devil in his web.

Tie you up. Breed full.

Breed you.

His fingers work fast. Arms are pulled over your head, silks quickly pinning them to the surface. Strings wrapping and wrapping until he’s sure you’re secure. Sure you can’t move.

His hips gently rock against your own, clothes cock pressing against your core. Watching as your hips buck, as you try to urge him closer with a pathetic whine.

See exactly how you struggle against the strings.

Perfect, perfect girl. How did he get so lucky, huh? Can never be sure.

You’re unable to stop the cry that leaves your throat as his hands pull your panties aside, finger thrusting into your wet heat. Filling you up, making you feel a little more whole.

“Min~” The moan of his name is shaky. Every sense you have in overdrive as he works his finger against your walls. Every push inside deeper, harder. Curling against your walls in the exact way you craved.

Pleasure coils in your stomach faster than you thought possible. A second finger joining the first, pumping in and out as he prepares you for his cock. Prepared you to take all of him and nothing less.

He knows you can do it. You can, can’t you?

“Mhmm baby, I know… head a little clearer now, huh?” He chuckles, chastising, “Can only think when you’re full. It’s so cute.”

You whimper at his words, head rolling back as the coil pulls tighter and tighter within your gut. Urging you to just let it snap, feel everything you’ve been waiting for.

“F-feels good…” You mutter quietly, unable to see the haze cloud his vision. The way his amused expression drops into that of a wild animal.

Without any warning his fingers pull out of your heat, body leaving your own entirely as he stands. Grabbing your hips, dragging them closer. Flipping your body over. Setting you pretty on your knees, arms uncomfortable crossed in front of you.

He quickly rids himself of his pants, allowing his cock to spring free from their confines. Head red and messy as it hits his stomach. Angry at how neglected you’ve left him. How desperately he wants this.

You have no way of preparing yourself for the drag of his cock through your lips. The gentle nudge against your clit. Thick head dragging through your folds, spreading your arousal. Mixing it with his pre-cum.

Making you messy. Making you dirty just for him. Making you belong to him.

“Gonna fill my mate.” All humour is gone from the man behind you, as if he is someone else entirely. It’s really too bad your head has a few too many screws loose to care. Care about anything other than the way his firm head presses against your hole. The way his blunt nails dig into your flesh.

“Gonna breed her. Mate her. Make her mine.” It’s almost as if his word is a command. The very sentences he utters become law.

You can only nod your head. Give yourself to the very man that fate led you to all those months ago. “Want~”

The thrust of his hips into your walls is almost too much to bear. A cry leaving your lips as he fucks himself inside in a single thrust. Forcing you to take him to the hilt, to feel all of him stretch your walls. No break. No waiting around.

You’ve both done enough waiting.

It hurts— the burn, as he stretches you full. Presses his cock against your walls making sure your cunt remembers no one but him.

The way he gives no reprieve, fucking into you like an animal starved. Pulling back until only the tip remains inside before fucking himself fully inside once more.

“Min!” You cry, waves of pain and pleasure boiling all the same within your bones. All the same inside of your blurred head, nothing but static and thoughts of him behind the line of your eyes. Slipping off into space as you let cunt clenched pathetically around his cock.

“Good mate, taking me so well. Such a good human.” He groans, hips pulling back and thrusting into you over and over again. Making you fall apart with his pace. Pumping his cock into your pathetic little hole fast and hard. Ruining you for any other man.

Making sure he will be the only one you allow to enter heaven.

Your moans come out wanton, pleaing. Hips start to move back against him, trying to keep up with his pace despite the burn you begin to feel in your tied arms. Desperate to let him know just how good he’s filling you. Just how good he’s making you feel.

“My mate.” His pants come out harsh, breath on your neck as he hovers close. The sound of skin and against skin is the only thing you’re able to hear. The pressure of Jimin’s lips against your neck makes you feel like you’re about to go insane.

He’s desperate to make you fall apart on his cock alone. Pleasure building and building, the coil tight. Ready to snap at any moment. Ready to fall apart at his command.

“Gonna make you mine forever pretty.” His voice is featherlight once more. The switches have you reeling, your brain spinning. “Want that, don’t you? For me to bite you? Mark you up? Breed you full of my spiderlings? Ruin that pretty little head for anything else.”

He sighs, nails digging into your hips where they’re sure to leave bruises. You nod your head in agreement, moans spilling past your lips as his hips change their angle. His cock hitting the spot that leaves you seeing stars on every thrust.

“Say the word and you’re mine.” You feel his fangs against your skin. The harsh drag across your delicate skin. “Forever.”

You can’t take it anymore, pleasure burning through you. Blinding you. Unable to think about anything else other than the rough thrusts of his cock against your walls.

“Please.” It’s no more than a whimper, but he swears it’s the loudest thing he’s ever heard.

His teeth clamp into your flesh— the final thing needed to push you over the edge into bliss. Your body stutters, walls a vice around his cock as the coil finally snaps. Heat flowing through every cell you possess. The only thing in your soul is Jimin.

Your back arches, eyes dotting with black as you allow it to overtake you. Jimin rocking you against him, groaning as he fills you with his cum, painting your walls white. Allowing you to ride out your high with him. Finally allowing the rut to rid his brain for only a moment.

He slowly pulls out of you, panting. Quickly moving to cover your center back up with your underwear. Make sure all of his cum stays tucked away in your pretty little pussy to get you nice and pregnant.

You can only whimper, body twitching at every movement he makes. Worn down your bones— energy sucked so dry you can’t even feel the throb of your neck. Don’t even notice the blood that drips from where he marked you— claimed you in the way only a hybrid can.

All you're sure of is the need to be close to him. Need to feel him.

Is this what he had been feeling all along? Marks were known to do that, to allow you to feel what your mate does. If he had to endure what you’re feeling right now, it had to have been hell for him.

“Min…” you calm his name. Pull him from where he stares between your legs. Where his fingers rub circles into the surface of your underwear, spreading any cum that leaks from your twitching hole.

Within a second he’s at attention, staring at you with all of the love in the world. You’re not sure how you missed it before. How you could have deluded yourself into believing any less.

He pouts as you wiggle at your restraints, silk holding your arms in place all this time. He gently shakes his head, slowly flipping your body back over onto its back. Crawling over you to look at your face properly. Take in your fucked out expression. Ruined his pretty little human. Made her perfect.

“Don’t want to.” His lower lip juts out at you, eyes wide just like a begging dog. “Look pretty tied up in my web. Should stay like this. Forever.”

“I don’t think my job would like that very much.” You giggle, lip pouting out to match his own. He leans down, quickly capturing your mouth in a quick kiss.

Something hard pressed against your leg once more. His hand comes down to guide it against your heat. Rub against you despite the oversensitivity and cum leaking from your hole.

“Then we move to the woods together… I’ll hunt for us…” He grumbles, pushing your underwear to the side once more. Collecting any cum that has spilled out with his cock, gently fucking it back into your cunt with the head.

A whine rips from your lips due to oversensitivity. Pussy sore, aching from what he just put you though. What you aptly begged for. Yet you can’t deny him. Don’t want to deny him with how good it feels to be filled. How addicted you’ve become. Cock drunk.

“Wh-what?” You try to breathe, walls fluttering around his length as he slowly thrusts back inside. Filling you to the brim once again. “W-we can’t do that, Minnie…”

His thrusts are slow, languid. Almost like he’s making love. Treating you with utmost care despite how wrecked your entire frame is.

He is entirely unaffected. His rut leaves him wanting for more and more until you have nothing left to give. Face twisting into confusion at your words.

“Why can’t we? Make you up a nice pretty web… keep you full all the time” He hums against your neck, gently licking at his mark, “treat you like a real good mate, yeah? Fill you up over and over. Will look so pretty with my spiderlings.”

He moans the words, hips speeding up ever so slightly at the thought. It dawns on you that this must be his rut talking. Filling his head with nonsense he knows can’t come true. In a few days when he wakes up from it, he’ll probably pretend he never said anything about taking you to the woods. Keeping you there.

No harm in agreeing, is there? Especially when he makes you feel so good. So happy and full. When it makes him feel just as good. When your head starts to feel fuzzy, the exhaustion weighs heavily on your consciousness. You’re on birth control anyway, it's fine.

“Mmhmm… sounds nice..” You moan quietly, already feeling your second orgasm approaching. Allowing yourself to become lost in the same dream as him. Allowing yourself to fall victim to pretty words and false promises. Ones that he intends to make true.

“Gonna take such good care of my mate.” He groans, face buried in your neck. He feels your walls clamp around him, pulling him in over and over again. Cunt never wanting him to leave.

His hand draws between your thighs, fingers rubbing quick circles into your clit. Neither of you are going to last long. Both too sensitive to do anything but fall into the pleasure of each other.

Pussy fluttering against his cock, head rolling back as your high runs through you once more. White clouding your vision, ears ringing as you are overcome with fire. Drowning in the feeling of his cock fucking you full of his cum once again.

He lets out a harsh groan as he fills you. Breeds you just like a good spider would. Makes you feel complete as he helps you through both of your highs.

Your eyes feel heavy— too heavy to stay open even a second longer. Too tired to stay awake as he pulls your underwear back over your center. As he pulls your body close to his own.

He doesn’t blame you, never could. It must be hard having to keep up with a hybrid during their rut. But he knows you can do it. Knows you’ll do it for him. Especially with the promises you made. The ones you made only to him.

The last words you hear before falling under the veil of consciousness is a simple declaration. One you’ve waited months to hear.

“I love you.”

“Y/n! Hurry up!”

The whine of Jimin’s voice is louder than any car, highway, hell— aeroplane you’ve ever heard, you’re sure of it. The grip of his hand around your own is like iron, tugging you along the worn trail path, trying to urge you faster than your feet will allow.

“I’m going! I’m goin!” You chide with him, giggle leaving your lips at his hurried nature. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the spider more excited. Maybe even more so than when he strokes the bite mark scarred into your shoulder– your permanent reminder that you are his and he is yours.

“Not fast enough!” He groans, head rolling back in annoyance, “The best spot is going to get taken!”

He’s told you about this spot time and time again– excitement palpable with every mention. A beautiful clearing back at the reserve, one that the trees shine perfectly through. The best spot for basking in the whole park, as well as for begging humans for snacks.

You smile at the thought. Following as close behind him as your feet will manage. Blanket and bags of food tight in your grip. After months of paperwork, he can finally return to this place without fear they’ll take you away from him. The mate licence in your wallet proof enough of it.

He finally gets to take you to the reserve– the place he called home for so long before he met you. The place where he first learned how to be a proper spider. The first place he learned to make friends. He’s most excited about the latter part, getting to show off his shiny new mate to all of his friends. The one he caught the human way.

He’s been talking about it for days, since you first brought up the idea of visiting. Of wanting to see where he lived before he met you. Prattling on and on about everything he’s going to show you, how he’s going to introduce you to Jungkook if he can. About the waterfall over the cove that you two can swim in without anyone finding out.

All of it is a dream come true for your little spider. Your mate.

You smile at the thought– how excited he is as he helps you set up the blanket on the ground. As he helps spread food all around you. Body jittery, head twitching at every little sound.

It’s clear he’s going a little crazy with joy. Entirely ecstatic to have you here with him. Sitting across from him on the ground in a way that almost mocks the picnic you had in his basement that night months ago.

Ah, sorry. Nuptial gift ceremony. He liked it a lot better when you called it that.

“Oh! And then, after we eat, I can introduce you to the head of the park! She’s Namjoon’s mate, but she doesn’t know it yet.” He talks to himself, chatting idly about nothing as he presses another strawberry to your lips. You eagerly take it, biting down on the fruit without a second thought.

You cover your mouth with your hand as you speak, “Really? It must be difficult to confess to her, then.”

He nods his head, overexcited as he looks past you into the trees. Nose twitching as he tries to pick up a scent. Yellow tinted sunglasses high on his nose to block any light from hurting his delicate pupils.

You can’t help but think about how beautiful he is. How lucky you are to have him.

His hair has grown out since that fateful day months ago, blonde replaced by a deep blue that puts the night sky to shame. How his frame has bulked out ever so slightly. Pretty tan skin looking more healthy than ever. His head off in the clouds, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t pick you up and drag you off into the woods.

The human way is never easy for him.

“Mhmm… he’s trying but he isn’t very good at it. Doesn’t understand how humans like it to be done…” He mumbles.

“Hybrid’s do it different?”

“Yeah,” He seems a little lost in space, nose twitching harsher as he tries to recognise the exact scent he knows will be coming soon. Jungkook can never hold himself back from a picnic, no matter how far. He just wishes his nose was stronger.

“Hybrids just take their mate right away. Prove they’re a good mate and then it’s done. But human’s you have to teach.” Your shoulders drop slightly, and maybe if it wasn’t for the love you felt for him or the mate mark pressing against your neck, you would have understood the severity of his words. Of teaching a human, tricking them into making them fall.

“Oh…” You pout, head coming down to rest against his shoulder. None the wiser to the meaning behind his words, “I’m sorry… it must’ve been hard for you.”

He only shakes his head, “It’s okay. I just didn’t want you to ever be scared.”

Suddenly, Jimin is standing. Eyes darting across the underbrush that surrounds the treeline. You follow his vision, squinting slightly to try and make out exactly what he is looking at when two antennae pop over the other side of a bush. Twitching, pointing in your direction. Hunting down food as they move closer.

The insect moves close, tilting his head as he finally moves within your line of vision. Mop of brown floppy hair on his head, wide bunny eyes. Twitching nose all the same. If it wasn’t for the lack of ears and black antennae jolting from his head, you would’ve thought he was a rodent.

“Kook!” Jimin’s voice is loud as he quickly run’s to meet the boy. The other looks just as excited, eyes lighting up with stars as his legs take off in the same direction. The two fall into a puddle of laughter and play fighting as they fall to the ground in greeting.

The infamous Jungkook, an ant hybrid– the biggest ant hybrid you’ve seen, mind you. Jimin’s best friend is finally revealed. And you have to say, seeing them together. Watching as your mate attempts to playfully tie him up silks has to be the prettiest sight you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Oh my god, Min!” You laugh as Jimin struggles, the giant ant hybrid easily breaking free from the others strings. Instantly the attention is on you. Jimin leaning back to his heels, head thrown back as he whines.

“Shut up! He’s gotten stronger! My webs hold you good enough!” You continue to laugh, unaware of the ant sneaking closer. His antenna tickling your shoulder as he stares at the food in front of you. Begging for just a little taste to bring home to his colony, a little bit to make the queen happy.

You happily oblige, making room for the two of them to join you once again after their little scuffle. A reunion too cute to not try and remember forever. And just like that, conversation begins to flow easily between the three of you. Almost as if Jimin never left in the first place.

The two of them spend all afternoon catching up– Jimin reciting the story of how you two met, Jungkook opening up about the cute human that’s started to come by the park every saturday. Pulling his antennae down as he speaks, clearly embarrassed. Telling you all about how they met, about the reserve.

“Ah~ don’t mind him. Kookie’s just embarrassed cause he doesn’t know how to talk to girls.” Jimin teases, leaning over to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. His arm tightly wrapped around your frame, holding you close. “Not every day that an ant hybrid has a mate outside of their colony, you know?”

“Hyung! Shut up!” He quickly whines, eyes shooting a subtle glare towards the other. Legs kicking slightly underneath his frame. “You… know what it means… especially cause she’s human…”

“I know.” His fangs shimmer as his hand reaches out to ruffle his hair, “Don’t worry. She’ll wanna be your queen in no time.”

You nod your head in agreement, picking up another piece of fruit and popping it into your mouth. Nothing much to add to the conversation– you’ll never really understand the intricacy of hybrids and how they work. Especially those like Jungkook and Jimin.

Yet, you can’t help but feel at peace with that. At peace with them and this moment. Content with your life, content with your mate and the life you’ve built together. You hope that Jungkook can do the same with his own someday. Build a nice little colony or whatever it is that ants do.

“Mhmm, anyone would want someone as cute as you.” You smile, watching as the ant’s eyes go wide. Blush covering his cheek as he tries to pull his antenna down to cover them. Jimin instantly pounces on the other, starting a new round of play fighting. Laughing about having to defend his mates honour. That she isn’t allowed to look at any other hybrid. No one but him.

You giggle along with them, leaning back from your spot. Taking a mental picture of the scene in front of you. Jimin happy, playing. The sunset over the horizon as the three of you laugh in the woods. As Jimin no longer looks anything like that spider all those months ago.

And maybe he’s right. Maybe you did fall into his trap lined with silk. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even when you wake up in the middle of the woods. When you wake up in a cabin decorated in pretty webbing. When you come to find society is far behind you. When you discover no one else other than Jimin telling you that this is exactly what you asked for.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

⋆𐙚 if you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a kofi!

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bunnycvnts · 7 months ago

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how rafe cameron jerks off ✧.*

warnings: do i even need to put warnings on this??? male masturbation, cum, talk of porn, ??? idk man it’s just him jerking off. 18+ obv

you’d think he does it the way he does everything else in life: carelessly, poorly planned, rough, and just looking to get it over with. that he’d fist his cock until it ached, and he was dripping with sweat, his abdomen clenching with desire. that it was a quick session with a five minute porn video and ended with cleaning up his cum from his stomach with a dirty tshirt.

but no— when rafe cameron pleasures himself, he goes all in. dimming the lights on his ceiling fan and locking his bedroom door. stripping naked and reaching for the oil in his bedside drawer, smoothing out the substance across his chest, down his stomach, and over the very tops of his thighs. smearing whatever was left on his hands over his length, his hips bucking at the touch. but that wasn’t all. for rafe cameron to cum— he needed to be teased. he’d run his hands over his newly slick skin, scraping his nails across his abs, the slight burn making his cock twitch. he’d massage the tops of his thighs and over his hip bones, grasping the skin in his big hands and kneading it between his fingers, getting so close to his pulsing cock but never actually reaching it. beads of precum would leak from the red bulbous tip, creating a shiny film of desire against his stomach. headphones on, taking in the moans of whatever girl was on his screen, never too picky about which video played. he doesn’t watch it anyway, needing the sound over the visual. his cock would twitch and throb, begging for release. his balls would ache, ready to spill his warm seed. once he decided he’d been teased enough, his fist would wrap gently around his length, not too tight but not too soft, stroking upwards and focusing on the tip. he’d squeeze the head of his cock, his thumb running against the slit and gathering all precum spilled. his legs would squirm, forcing them open and closed, his hips bucking in the air, his body continuously trembling in need. short gasps would leave his lips, trying to catch his breath while beads of sweat gathered at his hairline. with a tighter grip, he’d stroke the rest of his shaft, groaning at the feeling of his hand. he’d edge himself over and over until he found the twisted knot in his stomach to be too much. he’d cup his balls with one hand and milk the tip of his cock with the other, the oil squelching under his fingers at the movements. the sound would only drive him closer to release. when he found himself teetering on the edge, he’d squeeze a little harder and massage his balls a little rougher until he felt the knot break in his stomach. a raspy moan would fall from his bitten lips, his seed spilling across the oiled planes of his chest. his grip wouldn’t ease, cum oozing from his throbbing tip long after he’d ridden out his orgasm. he’d lay there panting, trying to secure as much oxygen as he could, even though his brain felt dizzy and he wasn’t even sure he was on the same planet anymore.

if there was one thing rafe cameron could do properly, it was jerk himself off.

taglist: @sunkissedrafe @ditzyzombiesblog @mousie101 @cxsmiclore @judessangel

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inkdrinkerworld · 5 days ago

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ok ok I‘m obsessed with spencer x bau!reader in a secret relationship!!

like imagine s2!spencer and reader and how reader always keeps their eyes on him during cases after tobias, trying to help him with his mood swings (caused by the withdrawals) in subtle ways

or s6!spencer dealing with his migraines and reader trying to be there for him, subtly helping him relax on the plane by playing with his hair or whatever and all that while trying to hide their relationship (the others probably already noticed but just keep their mouth shut and smile to themselves whenever they have a sweet little moment)

gets my mind running!!

Cw: withdrawal symptoms, vague mentioning that spencer is taking drugs, fluff

You’re worried about him. You can’t stop chewing your nails as you look at him.

You know the team knows, and you know Spencer knows you all know but you can’t say anything.

If you say anything, tell him to get help, he’ll need to report it and if he reports it he’ll lose his job.

So you do what you can.

There’s Gatorade in the fridge, all stocked with the purple grape flavored stuff you’d learnt through trial and error that Spencer preferred.

He drinks a few a day, suffering through it because he knows it will help. He also knows you’re doing this because you care about him.

He hopes you still love him after all of this.

You do.

“I got you a soup, Spence.” Your words are quiet and saved for when you reach his desk, setting the hot styrofoam container on his desk with a smaller box next to it.

He looks up at you, pupils blown wide and sweat beading on his eyebrows.

You don’t even hesitate to use your shirt sleeve to dab away the sweat. Spencer fights the urge to push your hands away.

He hates to disappoint you. “This has to be disappointing. I have to be disappointing.” His words are sudden you nearly jerk back.

“What?”

“This. I’m pitiful.”

You shake your head, stooping down so you’re eye level with him. “What happened was not your fault. I hate seeing you like this because you didn’t deserve it; not because you’re pitiful.”

Your words are so forceful and sincere that it stuns him for a little bit. In his shock, you walk away from him and Spencer panics when you go to the stairs to Hotch’s office.

His heart is pounding so hard he’s shocked he hasn’t blacked out yet.

Maybe he has because a couple seconds later you’re helping him stand and holding the container of soup and your bag.

“Let’s go.”

Spencer’s eyebrows tug together, his lips unconsciously falling into a pout.

“But we have reports to finish.”

You shake your head, for his protestations, Spencer follows you with his own satchel all the way to your car.

“I told Hotch you were feeling faint and you had a fever so he’s let us go home.”

Spencer is speechless. He’s even more so when you turn on the heater on his seat and keep the ac high.

“You don’t have to do all this.” He stammers out, holding the containers as you reverse.

“I want to take care of you and help you get better Spence. It’s as simple as that,” he nods, unable to help it.

You’re like his personal angel. He hopes you know how he feels about you. Hopes you know that he’s grateful and he’ll always be. Hopes that the flush in his cheek can be blamed on what his body is going through right now and not your next words.

“We’re going to my place, I’ve got a better bed and I can mess with the heating. You don’t have to do it alone, Spence.”

#spencerreid #spencer reid #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x black reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x y/n

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robo-writing · 1 month ago

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Kinktober Day Six: 70's! Logan - Cock Worship

| Kinktober Masterlist |

You’re his servant, and his lap is the throne you worship. Knelt down, sat between his legs, hands spread across the hard plane of his thighs—your tongue lapping at his heavy balls as your eyes meet his.

He can only look at you and smile, running his fingers through your hair—pretty little thing like you, trained so well. “Enjoying yourself down there?”

You hum in approval, sloppily kissing at his cock as you see fit, mesmerized at how it throbs on beat against your lips. The taste of skin leaves you wanting more, the salt of it coating your tastebuds with each lick, eyes rolling back.

Yet, all good things must come to an end. Those same fingers that stroked your hair now hold you steady, pulling away the object of your attention as you whine no no no dejectedly.

“Logan, lemme play with it some more…”you huff, tongue sticking out to try and chase his cock but his grip is firm, unwavering.

“A lesson in patience baby,” he says as he waves his cock in your face, the tip of it slapping your nose. “Can’t have you getting greedy now can I?”

You want to beg him but you know better; when Logan gives you an order he means it. This means you’re forced to sit still while he drags his cock against your waiting lips, never letting it slip any further.

You groan in frustration, but it only makes him harder. “If I let you have your way, you’d be warming my dick for the rest of your life, ain’t that right pretty girl?”

You nod frantically, practically drooling at the thought. “Yes, can I? Promise I’ll make you feel good, promise—“

“I know you will, but you’ve gotta give me a second here,” his head falls back, chest heaving with each word. “Nearly made me come before I got to fuck that mouth of yours, don’t think I’m stupid.”

You whine at having been found out, thighs pressed together. “Just wanted to taste it, don’t be mad…”

“Could never be angry at you,” he coos, and then offers you his fingers as a replacement, playing with your tongue as he continues. “Can’t be mad at a slut for doin’ what’s in her nature.”

You moan around his digits, sucking at them like you would if he let you on his cock. “Please, Logan, lemme suck your cock.”

You swear you could cum like this, with nothing but his fingers and his words rattling around in your empty cock-drunk head, but thankfully he takes pity on you.

“Ask nicely baby,” he laughs, tracing the pink tip onto your lips, smearing his pre-cum on them, your own personal lip gloss. “Say you wanna choke on daddy’s cock.”

Your lips are pushed against the base of his cock, words muffled. “Wanna choke on daddy’s cock, please.”

He releases his grip on your hair, an evil smile on his face when you happily swallow his cock the moment you’re free. “Good girl.”

#Robo writes #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #kinktober #totally not a hint for a future entry btw :)#kinktober 2024

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jaewritesfic · 3 months ago

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Everlasting Trio DP x DC Nobody Knows Au Pt 6

Part 5

Warning for very brief flashback implying vivisection

It is highly amusing to float to Red Robin's rooftop and see up close how intensely vigilant he's being. He looks like if a pigeon took off halfway across the city he'd fucking notice, but the ghost standing next to him and trying not to snicker goes undetected.

Poor guy. He really seems like the type to drive himself up a wall over a mystery - he's certainly been driving himself up a wall over Danny.

Danny has to force himself not to tickle the back of the guy's neck just to watch him flail.

He likes Red Robin, he really does. He didn't set out to torture the poor guy - Red did that all by himself, all Danny has been trying to do is help.

They can't pursue him the way they have been and expect him not to try and get some entertainment out of it. It tempers the annoyance, making their obsession with finding him a game.

Danny considers the box in Red's lap.

He's been doing the same thing with each box they leave him from the beginning: grab box, open pocket dimension, yeet.

Not even Bat trackers can transmit from an entirely different plane of existence, it would seem.

And the thing Danny has discovered about having died when an entirely different plane of existence opened on top of him and merged with his DNA?

He is a pocket dimension, in a way.

In other words, no need to expend energy to tear the fabric of reality to deposit his loot - all he needs to do is phase things into himself.

So Red will definitely notice when the box disappears from his lap and seemingly blinks out of existence, but at least he won't be seeing any neon green tears in reality open up in front of him.

That seems like a good deal to Danny.

He steps forward and reaches for the box-

NA NA NA NA NA NANA

Danny and Red Robin both curse and flail as the Ghostbusters theme rings out across the rooftop.

Red Robin nearly falls out of his lawn chair launching himself away from the sudden sound, almost dropping the lockbox in the process.

Danny frantically searches his pockets for his goddamn phone, pulls it out, has the fear of God struck into him at the idea of hanging up on Sam Manson and thus shoves it into his chest to go to voicemail somewhere where nobody can hear it ring.

In the dead silence that follows, Danny finds himself in something like a startled cowboy standoff where only one of the participants is actually visible.

Red Robin stands with feet braced shoulder width apart, lockbox in one hand and bo staff in the other. He is visibly bewildered and ready to throw hands.

He's staring at the space a little to the left of Danny's head, so at least he hadn't dropped his invisibility in panic.

Welp. No use trying to change plans now.

Danny lunges forward and grabs the lockbox, relishing in the squawk of shock and indignance Red Robin makes as it abruptly leaves his hand and blinks out of sight.

He doesn't anticipate how fast Red Robin will recover or move.

A hand wraps tightly around his wrist and jerks him back in an impressive estimation of where Danny might be occupying space.

Danny almost goes ghost right there. Not because he wants to, but because for a moment there are restraints around his wrists and ectoplasm on the table and bright lights and sharp blades and pain-

He swallows the growl that wants to well up in his throat as he turns and looks at Red Robin, teeth feeling a little too large and sharp in his mouth before he forces himself to calm down.

Red is staring him straight in the eyes despite Danny being able to see he's still invisible. Red’s hand looks to be wrapped around nothing.

“You're not going anywhere,” Red Robin says, voice low and slightly feral with the high of perceived victory. That, paired with the crooked smirk on his lips is kind of, uh- well. Hoo boy, that's all Danny has to say about that.

Well, he does have one other thing to say.

“Bet.”

The way Red Robin's face falls in disbelief when Danny phases out of his grip is nothing short of glorious. Danny's already floating off the roof and out of grabbing distance before Red finishes buffering.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Danny cackles, tossing him a salute he can't even see.

“Better luck next time, Angry Bird!”

“Son of a bitch!”

Masterpost

#dp x dc #danny phantom #tim drake #red robin #dead tired ship #dead tired #assume that every danny i write has the ghostbusters theme as his ring tone #im sure this wont come back to haunt him #ba dum tss #tim: obsession intensifies #tim: ranting in an unhinged way about this later #jason with popcorn: so r u guys gonna kiss next time or

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haologram · 2 months ago

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how to be a latin lover ♡ h.js (m)

♡ synopsis: the dreadful semester has started — meaning your summer vacation has come to end, and so has your summer fling…or has it? ♡ genre: summer fling au ; big dummy dumb idiots to lovers ; ta x student dynamics. ♡ pairing: spanish ta!joshua hong x chaebol!fem!reader | side pairings: lee chan x jung haerim (weki meki) ; wen junhui x lee saerom (fromis_9) ♡ word count: 26.8k ♡ rating: 18+. minors do not interact, i beg. ♡ warnings: honestly, a little toxic if you squint. lots of pining. hella slow burn. lots of suggestive commentary but no smut because i'm ass at it (sorry if you wanted some, maybe during the lore drops for this fic later this year i'll add some) and very, very toxic mother-daughter dynamics [official warnings: joshua and y/n are absolute idiots. i’m talking the dumbest mfs you’ve ever encountered, you’ll want to scream at them through the screen.] ♡ what to listen to: otro atardecer - bad bunny, the marías ; get to you - mac ayres ; sky full of stars - coldplay ; brave enough - leehi ; qué locura enamorarme de ti - eddie santiago ♡ a/n: it's finally here! thank you to @camandemstudios for allowing me to be a part of such a wonderful collab (and i promise hoshi will be out by next week!) thank you to @tomodachiii , @wqnwoos and @highvern for betaing this stupid behemoth and telling me to stop being a little bitch (no one said that). hopefully i will see everyone soon with the hoshi version! thanks for reading!

Monday, August 29th.

Summer is over.

A sad fate deemed inescapable, despite your sunkissed glow and endless array of swimsuits begging you to stay on the beach – you were forced to return to reality after spending six weeks in Mexico, away from the shackles of your mother's constant nagging and the fall semester of impending doom. Your trip was all-expenses paid, of course – thanks to daddy's big, fat wallet.

You had no worries – your skin was clear, your hair was bouncy, your belly was full of delicious food as you pranced the streets of Puerto Vallarta with your best friend, Lee Saerom. Your father didn't even know he'd footed the bill for her, too. He didn't check the credit card report after you booked your trip – just nodded absentmindedly and waved you off, his voice echoing the walls of the office. "Have fun, honey."

Well? The fun you had…is now here to bite you in your sweet, sunkissed ass.

Summer flings have been your thing since you were eighteen – so since your parents finally let you out of their grasp to 'explore.' Whatever the hell that meant, you didn't know, but you gladly took the plane tickets and went off to wherever they sent you. One year, it was Greece, and your summer sweetheart grew a bit too obsessed with you – leading you to change your number and start using burner phones for vacations.

You covered all your tracks. You didn't even give this guy your social media accounts, you gave him your burner number…you didn't even tell him your last name. Yet, you are so undeniably screwed.

"Hello, everyone!" He scans the room as he takes a sip of his coffee, glancing at the door. "I'm unsure if you all received the email, but Professor Lee won't be in today." He's still scouring faces, taking in new ones and recognizing old ones. He hasn't seen you, and you're sure if you just sink a bit further down, he won't. "I'm Joshua Hong, and I'm Professor Lee's teaching assistant this year. She asked me to review the syllabus with you, in lieu of her absence." He taps the stack of papers on the large oak desk, clicking his tongue. "I'm gonna put the digital copy up on the projector, and you guys can just pick one of these up on your way out. Sounds good?" The class seemingly nods simultaneously, and you find yourself sliding down your chair as he walks to dim the lights. "That being said, welcome to Beginning Spanish Conversation! I took this course last year, and Professor Lee is super nice so you won't have to worry about getting into any scuffles with her."

He's speaking to himself as he connects everything, the home screen of his laptop popping onto the projector screen. It's him and two other guys dressed as the Powerpuff Girls. He giggles to himself before using the laser pointer. "Not that you guys care, but these are my friends." He points to the one dressed as Buttercup, tied to a moving dolly with a sour expression on his face.

"This is Jeonghan. He's another TA on the East Campus, and the secretary of my fraternity! If you ever see me off campus, I'm likely with him and this guy." He points at the one dressed as Bubbles with a tiara on, a guy you recognize but can't seem to place. "This is Seungcheol. He's President of Beta Tau Omega, in case you're wondering where you've probably seen him before." You freeze as he opens his Safari, hoping that comment wasn't directed at you. It opens to the syllabus, and you feel your lips twitch at how cute Professor Lee made it. There is a floral border surrounding the page, and he points the laser on the screen again.

"Okay, so. Again, I'm Joshua Hong and your professor is Lee Hyori. This is Beginning Spanish Conversation, so we'll be learning a lot of vocabulary and common phrases. Enough to get you by in case you're ever stranded in the middle of Guadalajara with no phone and no money." He smiles, and someone raises their hand in the front.

"Are you speaking from personal experience?" It's Jung Haerim, a girl from your World Cultures class last semester.

His smile only grows slightly wider as he shakes his head. "No, and yes. I got lost in Denmark. Copenhagen, to be exact, and I had to flirt my way onto the train. Not as fun as it sounds, trust me." He returns to the screen, carefully going over what the students could expect in the coming weeks. He reiterated that Professor Lee loves pop quizzes, so stay prepared. It was only then when he finally stopped speaking, flashing yet another award-winning smile.

"Any questions?"

Your hand is crawling to cover your face as people start asking questions, further prolonging your suffering – when you feel eyes on you. Peeking through your fingers, you see him peering at you over the rim of his tumbler. They hold a mischievous glint, and he casually continues answering questions.

Where are you from?

"Los Angeles. I moved here when I was about…nineteen? Yeah." You already knew this.

How was your summer?

"Pretty good, I spent eight weeks in Puerto Vallarta. I got back maybe three days ago, and only then did I find out I got this position." You knew this, too. He probably remembers you.

What's your major?

"I'm a Music major, with a minor in Jazz Studies." He told you this on your third night together, over an IPA and a shared basket of chips and salsa. You burned your tongue on your food that night, you couldn't taste for days.

Oh? Why that?

"I've always been passionate about it. Funny, I took Spanish to broaden my horizons for it. I'll hopefully be a producer after graduation."

Your impatience begins to show as you bounce your leg irritably, and it's almost like he can hear your thoughts. "Alright, alright. I'll literally be here every time you guys are, so save your questions about me. Or, find me after! We can hang, I'm usually at the frat anyway." He shrugs, gesturing to the pile of papers on the desk.

"Syllabus, take one!" His smile is bright as you scramble down the steps, snatching the piece of paper off the desk and just about sprint to the door. You can feel your cheeks heating in embarrassment as you barrel down the hallway, deciding to skip your next class in hopes of drowning in your shame.

You spot Saerom a few feet down the hall, smiling and talking to one of your other friends, Chan. He was rushing that stupid fraternity this year, so if your math was right – you wouldn't be able to avoid Joshua at all this year.

"Saerom, I'm so fucked." You call, and she immediately spins around, a look of discernment on her face.

"Y/N, what are you on about this time? The last time you said that, it was because you left your Dior lip oil in Morocco." She deadpans, and you scoff. "Maybe it's about her classes." Chan reminds her coolly, and you sigh as you slump your forehead against his chest, earning a pat on the back from him.

"For once, the twink is right." Groaning, you bury your face further into Chan's chest. "I've got to transfer out of Spanish, or the University. I cannot be on this campus."

Your words are muffled against Chan's shirt, earning a sigh from Saerom as she places her hands on your shoulders. "Get a grip, Y/N! It's the first day of your last year, it's not the end of the world. You will not see any of these people next semester, trust me."

She's not understanding the severity of your issue, and only when you hear someone stop behind you, do you attempt to explain. "Saerom, you're not listening–"

"Saerom, is that you?"

She looks up, her eyes lighting up as she gently gestures for you to hang on, pushing past to envelop whoever it was in a hug. You look over your shoulder, eyes wide as you see him looking down at your best friend.

"Shua! Oh my God, it's been so long! How's your mom?!" Shua. Oh, you feel sick.

Your breath hitches in your throat, before Chan's amused face comes into your line of vision as he drapes his arm over your shoulder – effectively hiding you from Joshua. "We'll let you guys catch up. See you later, Saerom?"

He tugs you away without getting an answer from her, and you almost make it out of the hall when you hear your name slip from Saerom's lips. "Oh, Y/N is my best friend! I'll have to introduce you sometime, you'd love her."

You barely catch Joshua's response as Chan makes a left out of the hall.

"I'm sure I will."

Friday, September 2nd.

"So…anything you want to tell me?"

Saerom is standing next to you, placing forks next to slices of cake. The two of you had missed three birthdays on your trip, and you'd invited said birthday buddies over for a celebratory movie night to make up for it. You'd bought a cake on your way home from your first Organic Chemistry lab, and Saerom had set up the apartment with the small gifts you'd brought back from Puerto Vallarta.

To your luck, Saerom had pulled you aside while you were cutting the cake to talk to you.

"Uh, no? I skipped Spanish today? I used the last of my face wash?"

She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms as she turns to face you. "You were never gonna tell me that you slept with someone this summer?"

"I don't know what you're talking about? Obviously, you knew I'd find someone."

You try to hold in the heat of embarrassment, but Saerom's like a dog with a bone. "Right, of course. How would I, your best friend, not know that you, my best friend, slept with a guy over the summer?" Soonyoung, Junhui and Nagyung were playing Mario Kart on your television, and couldn't hear the conversation being had in the kitchen. You felt your cheeks warm as you stared into the cake, a bit of chocolate frosting smeared on your knuckles. "Sae, it was just some random guy I met when you slept in. Why does this matter?" "It matters…" She huffs, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, and you give her a look of get on with it. "It matters because he's my cousin, Y/N."

Your grip on the spatula tightens. You can feel your stomach drop, eyes wide as you look back at her. "He's your what?"

"I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're thinking. I'd never be mad at you for that…even if it is weird for me." She says quietly, and sighs as you feel panic set into your skin. "I just…Why didn't you tell me? I transferred to this university for you, I tell you about all my hookups, and I had to find out through him that you guys were sleeping together for the last three weeks of our vacation?"

"How could I have possibly known the two of you were related? Better yet, why does it matter? It was just a stupid fling, Sae. I'm not trying to marry into your family, God." You mumble, placing the spatula in the sink and covering the rest of the cake with the plastic lid. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't think it would come back to bite me in the ass." "It doesn't. I thought you already considered me family, Y/N. It seems I've been under the wrong impression for a while." Her eyes are cold as she moves the cake slices onto a tray, and you feel taken aback. "What the hell does that mean?" "What the hell did you mean? As if marrying into my family would be so fucking bad? We're a great family. We're loving, open, and honest. Nothing like you, it seems!"

You gape at her, before you feel a bit of anger claw at your throat. "Saerom, I didn't think I'd ever see him again! Of course I'm going to hope he doesn't expect anything more from me, because I can't handle that. I want a career, I want to own my parents' businesses after graduation. I can't let a guy tie me down, no matter who he is to my friends. You have to get that." Her eyes are hurt, contrary to the furious tug on her brows. She knows what you want out of life, she always had – at least, what you would let her believe. Your parents had expectations, and you, as their only daughter, had to fulfill everything. Taking over your father's companies, inheriting your mother's properties, continuing the bloodline. It was all on you.

God forbid a girl have a little fun on vacation.

"It's always about you and your career, isn't it?" She mutters, grabbing the tray and walking towards the living room. She stops in front of the doorway, looking over her shoulder. "I thought I could trust you, Y/N. It seems that being a Risk Analyst may not be my perfect fit, after all."

You kind of hate that this is happening.

No, scratch that. You hate that this is happening. You don't even really understand what just happened, or how Saerom could have possibly interpreted what you said as something bad. Despite these horrible circumstances, you knew that Joshua couldn't possibly be a bad guy. Granted, you'd skipped your Spanish class twice now, doing everything in your power to convince Chan to enroll into it so you wouldn't have to face Joshua alone. You even said you'd pay his stupid fraternity dues if he got in, no matter how bad you hated Beta Tau Omega.

Joshua was sweet on vacation, but everyone has their vacation persona, and their normal life characteristics. At home, you were serious, studious, and even slightly uptight.

On vacation, you were…flirtatious, unhinged, a bit wild. You took shots from strangers and stayed out in clubs and bars until the wee hours of the morning. You'd play games of chicken with cute guys, letting them kiss you in bathrooms and put their hands up your skirt.

Joshua did none of that, he didn't indulge your behavior. At least, not right off the bat.

He'd caught your eye at a restaurant, speaking perfect Spanish to the waitress. He looked…refreshing. Sweet, different from your past romances. He looked like someone you'd actually date, but you were on vacation and you weren't looking for a long-term, potentially long-distance boyfriend. A quick fuck, a cum-and-go, if you will.

You'd bought him a mimosa, ignoring his line of vision as you befriended a few girls you'd met at the pool of your hotel. Saerom decided to sleep in that morning, and almost every other time you managed to catch Joshua alone – she wasn't in your presence. Maybe that was the universe protecting the both of them, while scorning you.

He'd sent a glass of white wine to your table, also avoiding your gaze and continuing his breakfast conversation with his friends. Jeonghan and Seungcheol, now that you can put a name to the faces. You didn't bother then, it didn't matter.

Not until now, of course.

You remember walking past his table on your way to close out your check, slipping your name and burner number on a napkin. You remember his friends teasing him, even hearing one of them give a low whistle. You remember said burner phone buzzing in your pocket less than an hour later, and meeting up with him that night at a salsa club down the beach.

You also remember cuddling on a hammock with him, pointing out stars you'd memorized as a kid because you wanted to be an astronaut. You remember him kissing your fingertips as you talked about your life back home, leaving out details of where you lived, where you went to school and who your parents were. You remember his eyes scanning your face, lingering on your lips as you sighed, voicing your unhappiness.

You had truly opened up to a stranger faster than you had anyone else. Even Saerom didn't know you felt this way about your life. How could she? She was under the impression that you loved it, you loved feeling important, you loved the money your lifestyle was funded by. That you didn't care about your parents' emotional absence, and the overwhelming amount of nannies being rotated in and out of your childhood in place of them.

Some things are better left unsaid, you remind yourself. You have to remind yourself that this façade needs to be upheld. You have to make your parents proud. You have to.

Right?

You're still standing in the kitchen when Nagyung appears in the doorway, her voice soft as she calls out to you. "Y/N?" You jump, a hand to your chest as you look up. She apologizes, "Sorry! It's just…the movie is starting. Are you coming?" "Yeah, sorry. I'll be right there." You gesture at the mess of cake crumbs and frosting, and she gives you a quick smile before scurrying back to the living room. You turn to wash the spatula, your mind just reminiscing as you grab the soapy sponge.

"So you're going to take over your father's business?""Yeah, I'm an only child, so I don't have much of a choice. If I don't take it, it just goes to the highest bidder. In my mind, it wouldn't be the end of the world if that happened, I'd get to pursue my own path."

"If you think that, why are you taking it over? Why not tell your parents that you have dreams you want to pursue? I know it's easier said than done, but office jobs are not good for the soul in my opinion." He spoke confidently, his fingers twirling your hair.

"I'd be ungrateful, I'd be throwing away hundreds of properties and investors. I'd be throwing away this lavish life I live, funded by my father's money. I'd be throwing away a secure future…and I'd be letting them down."

You didn't want to be an astronaut anymore. You'd long let that dream go, along with an eight-year-old you that had posters of Yi Soyeon and constellations plastered all over your room. You remember your mother standing in the doorway of your bedroom when you got your first poster of a supernova, a glass of Merlot in her hand as she sighed. "You'll never be like them, you know? Going into space…eating peanut butter on crackers and floating. It's not possible." She had been right, anyway. You had put all of those posters up in your attic, along with your rocket models when you moved for college. The only thing you kept and brought with you to University was the orrery your last nanny gifted you for your fifteenth birthday. It sat pretty on your desk in your room, mocking your every move.

You were getting a business degree. You were majoring in Marketing. You're taking Spanish for the same reason Joshua did, to broaden your horizons, and make business boom. To feed the greed that festered in your parents, and give them what they want.

But…unbeknownst to them, you were also majoring in Physics. You wanted to give yourself the sliver of hope that they wouldn't actually want you to take over the firms, that you'd get to continue your education and get your doctorate. That you'd be a plasma physicist and watch everything happen in real time for space research, without having to leave Earth's surface.

Delusions, all of it.

"Welcome. You missed the first fifteen minutes." Soonyoung scoots over, offering you the lit joint between his fingers as you sigh. Taking it, you plop down on the couch cushion, your leg draped over the armrest. "Takes time to have a clean house, Hoshi." Saerom glances at you from her spot on the floor, her eyes unreadable as she blinks. She frowns slightly, returning her attention to the television. You can tell she feels uneasy about the entire situation. She's probably asking herself how she didn't catch on, or why she didn't ask.

And the truth is, you're kind of glad she didn't. Had she done so, you probably wouldn't have slept with him. You probably would've found out they were family and completely ghosted him, or at least told him that you were her friend. You would've let him down much more easily, instead of leaving Puerto Vallarta without saying goodbye and throwing your burner phone in the garbage at the airport.

Everything would have been different, you would have acted differently.

Nonetheless, you can't dwell on the past. You can't keep skipping Spanish, and you can't let your grades slip over some stupid summer hookup. What you can do is pretend it didn't happen. Pretend you've never seen him in the nude, pretend you don't know what his lips feel like. Pretend like he didn't affect you deeper than he did, because it wasn't just sex.

And you hate that it wasn't.

Monday, September 5th.

"You love me, Lee Chan!" You'd done it. You'd convinced him to join your class so you wouldn't be subjected to Joshua's nonexistent wrath alone. Seeing Chan leaning on the wall next to the door was a sight for sore eyes – even if he was trying to subtly flirt with Haerim.

"Y/N, you're going to scare the hoes!" He speaks through gritted teeth, allowing you to envelope him in a tight hug. "Ugh, you've saved me from a world of misery." "You're so needy." He mutters into your hair, making you pull away with a smug look on your face. "Well? Why is everyone out here?" "Professor Lee isn't here today. We're waiting for Joshua to get the door open." Haerim speaks as she locks her phone, shoving it into her pocket. She eyes you up and down, noticing the slight frown on your lips. "Why did you skip twice already? The semester just started." Grimacing, you make up a lie. "Prior commitments. Couldn't miss 'em." "Right…" She gives you a look of discernment before fishing her phone back out of her pocket. "I'm gonna skip, actually. You still have my number, right? Can you forward what you guys do today?" Upon seeing your nod, she gives you a lazy smile and worms her way through the crowd of students forming around the door. Everyone is whining and complaining, but you're now searching the hall to see if you can also make a run for it…

"Hey! So sorry, guys. Professor Lee just called me." A slightly disheveled Joshua appears behind a group of girls, holding up a set of keys. You look away, meeting eyes with Chan – who is squinting at Joshua as if he knew him. "Is that…Isn't he the Vice President of Beta Tau Omega?"nk

"Leave it up to one of my best friends to befriend the enemy." You scowl, before looping your arm in his to tug him into the classroom. The front few rows are already filling out, with Joshua regaining his composure at Professor Lee's desk. You and Chan make a beeline for the back of the classroom, taking the last two seats in the third row.

"I'm rushing this year, I need to know my higher ups." Chan whispers back, and the two of you whip your heads towards the front of the room at the sound of Joshua clearing his throat. "Sorry again, everyone. Unfortunately, a late start will be followed by a quiz." He winces as a collective groan follows his announcement, and you feel your stomach flip. You don't know enough Spanish to pass this class by the seat of your pants. You barely retained how to introduce yourself from high school. "Don't worry, since this is the first quiz of the semester, I'll go easy on you. Just some general conjugation, and it's to see where you fall on the scale." Joshua speaks confidently as he walks around the room, handing stacks of the quiz to the first person in the row. You feel your eyes glued to the floor as he holds the stack out for you to take, and you hate how your hand shakes as you do so.

What you hate even more?

"Nice to see you in class, Miss Y/N." He whispers, before crossing his arms behind his back and walking down the steps. Chan snickers next to you, earning a smack. "Not funny!" You grit, whacking him again with the stack of quizzes.

"Once you are done with your quiz, I will grade it. You may then leave for the day, because I really do not have the energy to think of anything else to be done." He's rubbing his temples, and you hear a few people sigh in relief.

"Easy money." Chan whispers to himself, before clicking his pen and beginning the quiz. You glance down at it, your lip tucked behind your teeth. The quiz seems standard – a few conjugations, a few multiple choice. One short answer at the bottom, asking you to describe what you did over the summer in Spanish.

"Fuck." You mumble.

You can't lie to yourself, you probably fucked yourself over by skipping those last two classes. They probably reviewed, took notes. Maybe even engaged in actual conversation with each other, with Professor Lee…with Joshua.

Nonetheless, you feel your skin crawl when you notice that you've spent so much time agonizing over this, that you're one of the last students left. Chan finished at some point and you didn't notice, because now he's waiting by the door for you. You feel your throat tighten, forcing you to zero in and just scribble an answer at the bottom of your quiz.

Grabbing your backpack, you fling it over your shoulder before trekking the steps, noticing Joshua giving you a warm smile.

"Miss Y/N." He greets, taking your paper. You give him a tight nod, before spinning on your heel to leave. You're barely two steps in the right direction when you hear him again. "Ah, ah, ah! We need to speak, Miss Y/N. Turn around." You're semi-grateful that the classroom is nearly empty, because you know you look embarrassed as you turn back around. "Yes, sir?" His smile drops as you stand in front of him, and he taps his pen on your quiz. "You missed two classes consecutively. Per the syllabus, you can only miss six classes per semester, and we don't accept late work. You can't excel in this course if you're not physically here, you know." He's not being a douche. You know he's not, but you can't help and slightly bristle.

"I had other matters to attend to, sir. I'll be on time for the remainder of the semester."

This doesn't seem to satisfy him, and his brows furrow slightly before he shakes his head, sighing. He turns your quiz over, the capital C minus grade in red ink.

"I know you don't want to be here, it's clear in your attitude. However, if you intend to pass this class, you have to show up. My tutoring hours are on the syllabus, revisit them and send me an email when you get a chance so we can get you back on track."

Your mouth opens slightly, and Joshua gives you a rather stern look. "Don't. I'm trying to help you." "Yes, sir." You mutter. He tilts his head towards the door. "You can leave." Huffing, you storm out of the room and nearly shove Chan out of the way when you reach the door. "Woah, hey! Don't kill me, Y/N!" He grabs your elbow, and you groan loudly. "Dude, what's your deal?" Chan asks, taking hold of both your shoulders as the two of you round the corner out of the hallway.

"My deal, Chan, is that I fucking slept with the TA over the summer! That's my deal, dude!" You throw your arms up in exasperation, and a lightbulb seems to go off in Chan's head as his mouth forms an O-shape. You lean against the brick wall of the building, slowly sliding down and covering your face with your hands.

"You..fucked Joshua Hong." He speaks, and you let out another groan, similar to that of a goat. "Yes, Chan. I fucked Joshua Hong in Puerto Vallarta in a random villa on the beach." "Spare me the details, will you?" He grimaces, running a hand through his hair. He squats next to you, making you look up at him with his hand. He gives your look of defeat a laugh, a concerned smile remaining on his lips as he touches his head to yours. "Don't worry, Y/N. He won't be anything but professional, I promise you."

"How do you know?" You whine, Chan's smile of concern turning into one of reassurance. "He clearly takes his job seriously, and he could've told the entire frat by now. Joshua Hong banged the biggest chaebol on campus, Kang Y/N. Crazy." You can tell he's trying to make you feel better, but you already knew Joshua wasn't the type to kiss and tell. Tell anyone other than Saerom, of course – but the two of you didn't speak much over the weekend so you felt a bit down in the dumps anyway. You didn't have dinner together or even go on a morning coffee run like you usually did – choosing to rot in your own rooms until hunger forced you out.

"He's Saerom's cousin, Channie." You pout, allowing him to tug you up off the wall and fling his arm over your shoulders. He sighs, resting his head against yours before he speaks. "Well, it can't get any worse than this, can it?"

– ☆ –

You scribble a reminder on a sticky note to kill Lee Chan for his earlier words – it has gotten worse.

You had forced yourself to review the syllabus upon returning home, especially after your Organic Chemistry professor informed everyone twenty minutes before class started that it was canceled. You then forced yourself to type out a concise and polite email to Joshua Hong, and you forced yourself to press send.

Ten minutes later, you forced yourself to read his reply.

And now, fifteen minutes after reading it, you were parked in the lot, your head resting against your steering wheel as you repeated some positive affirmations. "I can do this, I can do this. He's gonna be professional, I'm going to fix my hours, and I'll be on my way home."

Hopping out, you make sure to press your keyfob twice to hear it lock. Breathing in deeply, you made your way towards the hallway, seeing a few stragglers still on campus. It was nearly six in the evening, so they were probably also in office hours. Seeing the small office come into view, you stare at the names on the bronze plaques. Wow, you think. How important.

Kim Namjoon…WED. 3PM-7PM.

Jennie Kim…THURS. 4PM-8PM

Joshua Hong…MON/TUES/FRI. 2PM-6PM

Jeon Soyeon…MON-FRI. 10AM-1PM, OCHEM II ONLY.

Sighing, you grabbed the doorknob and twisted, pushing it open to reveal Joshua speaking on the phone. His eyes dart to you, a hand to his chest before gesturing to the table in the corner. You roll your eyes, before shutting the door and flipping the sign that reads In Session.

"Yes ma'am…mhm…I will get that done." Joshua is pinching the bridge of his nose, making you snort to yourself as you sink into the surprisingly comfortable chair in the corner of the room. You set your backpack on the floor, pulling your laptop out and a notepad. Clicking a pen, you fold your hands in your lap, waiting for him to finish.

"Yes, I will see you on Monday, Professor. Alright, take care." He hangs up, taking a moment to process. He blinks twice, before shaking it off and opening one of the drawers. "Good to see you, Miss Y/N. This is the review that you missed on Wednesday, and you missed an oral introduction on Friday." Standing, he holds up a packet. "This is just verb conjugation. I was originally going to use this for extra credit, but seeing as you got the highest grade out of anyone in the morning session, I think it's safe to say you probably won't need it." You're silent as he hands it to you.

"You will have to make up for lost time here, so you can stay for…an hour today, and then you can make up the other two on Friday." He's checking the calendar by the door, taking a pen from his pocket to write it in. "Sounds good?" You don't answer, just nodding your head. He raises his brow at you, "Cat got your tongue?" Grimacing, you glance up at him. "Sounds fine, sir." He smiles a bit, before clicking his tongue. "Actually, just take it. You can go, Miss Y/N."

He walks to the desk, shutting his laptop. Confused, you look at him. "You want me to go?" "I don't want you to be anywhere you don't want to be, even if it's for your own benefit. You can leave." He nods, sliding his laptop into his bag, zipping it up and hiking it over his shoulder. "I have a prior commitment I can't miss, so consider this a favor." Snorting, you just shake your head as you put your things away. "I don't need any favors from you." You mutter to yourself, and Joshua smiles brightly as he holds the door open for you. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Miss Y/N. Have a good night." "You too." You grumble, pushing past him to see Jeonghan and Seungcheol leaning against the wall. Seungcheol is holding an extra cup in his hand, and Joshua just lets out a sigh before greeting them warmly. Unfortunately, they're walking in the same direction as you, so you reach into your hoodie pocket for your headphones – but not before you hear a low whistle. "She looks familiar."

You just shove your other hand in your pocket, wondering if they'll keep talking. Does the other one remember you? Do they know you slept with Joshua? Did he tell them? "It's funny to think you'd remember anyone, when you're one of the biggest whores on campus." One of them speaks, and you can hear Joshua laugh lightly. "She's my student, so shut up. Anyway, how'd things go with the new OChem professor? I heard he's a mess, canceling classes back to back." You decide to tune them out as you reach the end of the hallway, not wanting to entertain them as the parking lot comes into view. You can see from where you're standing that there is a ticket stuck under your windshield wiper, and you groan. "Son of a bitch."

Jogging over, you take it off and see that it's not actually a ticket, but a note from someone saying they hit your car. Gasping, you round your car and see a huge dent in your bumper, black paint scraped off and your tail light broken. "Motherfucker!"

You can hear the trio of men getting closer, hearing the beep of the car next to yours as it unlocks. Scowling to yourself, you take your phone out to call your father. He should know what to do..right? His assistant picks up on the second ring. "Kang Enterprises, Gyuri speaking."

Sighing, you speak to her for a moment. She tells you he's in a meeting, and can't come to the phone at the moment. It's nearly seven at this point, what could he possibly have a meeting about? She says she doesn't know, but that your mother is also at the office and she's available. You reluctantly agree to speak to her, leaning your forehead against your rear windshield.

"Y/N? Why are you calling?" She sounds disinterested in whatever matters you may have, and you feel Jeonghan skirt past you as he rounds to the driver's side. "Sorry," He mumbles, and you scoff before moving out of the way. He grimaces before hopping in, and you can hear Joshua speaking to Seungcheol as he also rounds to the driver's side.

"Hello, Mother. Someone hit the beamer–" You barely get the words out before she starts responding. Yelling, actually – and so loud you have to pull the phone away from your ear. Joshua is unfortunately hopping into the passenger seat, and he can see the look of defeat on your face. He gives you a sympathetic smile, and you frown before turning away.

You're still standing there as they pull out, but you've put her on speaker now. She's yelling about how irresponsible you are (and let's not forget you weren't the one who hit a car here) and that she can't believe you expect them to send you another. "I don't want another, I just want Daddy's advice on where to take it to get it fixed." "I don't care, Y/N. We'll get another one down there tomorrow. Just…be more responsible, will you?!"

She hangs up, and you tongue your cheek so as to not cry in frustration. You don't want to drive the car home in this condition, you could get pulled over and then it's worse. Pulling up your messages, you scour who you could call. Chan is at a stupid pledge thing, you're not speaking to Saerom. Sighing, you quickly shoot Soonyoung a text, before calling the local towing company. They towed Chan's car last year when the two of you accidentally swerved into a fire hydrant trying to teach Nagyung how to drive.

Msg From: Soonyoung 🐯

[7:01PM] tf you mean someone hit ur car

[7:01PM] your PARKED car??? i'm literally in the shower, y/n

[7:03PM] ok uhh i think jun is on his way, if you wanna wait for him? if not i can finish up here in like 10 mins

Great.

Wednesday, September 7th.

"Shua." You hear Haerim speak from the front of the room. Your mother had angrily called you last night and said Gyuri would be dropping off your replacement vehicle today, so you were anything but focused until you heard the nickname slip from her lips.

"Haerim." He speaks, not taking his attention away from the corkboard he's putting up on the wall. It has Polaroids of all the students in your class and a few others you don't recognize. They probably took those on the days you weren't here.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you single? My friend drops me off on her way to French with Professor Bae and she thinks you're cute." Haerim is very casual with her conversation, making Joshua laugh lightly as he turns, holding a few thumbtacks between his fingers. "I am single, but I am unfortunately not on the market. Sorry to your friend, Haerim." She shakes her head, about to speak when you hear another person pipe up – Kim Myungjun, a guy you hooked up with at a sorority stoplight party your sophomore year. "How come? Did you get your heart broken or something?" Joshua smiles gently, sticking another Polaroid onto the board. He sighs, before turning back to face the room. "Something like that. I met a girl over the summer. Didn't end very well."

You can't believe your ears, and you can feel your eyes narrow as Chan shifts uncomfortably in his seat. You're willing to ignore it, until you hear Myungjun speak up. "Man, don't let that deter you from finding your soulmate! Love is everywhere, if we let one person dictate our confidence, we give their opinion value. I read that somewhere." Joshua nods, his smile never wavering, when he meets your eyes. His head tilts to the side, but he speaks while looking at you anyway. "I dunno, man. Something about that girl…she was different." Chan coughs awkwardly next to you, and you welcome the distraction as you tear your angry eyes away from Joshua's mischievous ones. You pat Chan's back, offering him a sip of your water bottle when Joshua returns to his conversation with Haerim (and apparently, Myungjun.) "Anyway…yeah. I'm alright for now." You spend the rest of the class with your face hidden behind your hair, studying the stupid Quizlet link Joshua had sent out last night. Professor Lee would finally be in this Friday, and she was expecting all A's across the board that day. You watch the clock on your phone, willing time to go faster with your mind.

The moment the clock strikes noon, you're out of your seat – only to hear Joshua call after you.

"Chan, Y/N, if the two of you could hang back for just a second." He says, as the students shuffle out. You glance at Chan, who has an unsettled look on his face. The two of you take the steps down quietly, waiting for everyone to file out when Joshua holds up the pink Instax camera. "You guys weren't here for class photos, so I just wanted to get those out of the way. Professor Lee uses them to remember names." Chan engages quickly, and you feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

Msg From: Jang Gyuri (K. Ent.)

[12:05PM] Miss Y/N, I am outside with your new vehicle. It seems I am on the West Campus.

Shit.

The panicked look on your face doesn't go unnoticed by Chan, even as he's blinking away the effects of the camera flash. "Are you okay?" "Gyuri is here, and she has my keys." You respond, clicking away on your phone when Chan covers the screen, wiggling his eyebrows at you. "I'll get them for you! Please, please, please—" "You're only asking because you think she's pretty." You roll your eyes, and Chan flashes you a mischievous smile. "Correction, I think she's beautiful. C'mon, I literally do everything for you!" "Fine, fine. Only because you make me feel guilty." Chan beams at you as he hitches his bag over his shoulder, the both of you completely forgetting this meant you'd be alone with Joshua. He calls over his shoulder that he'll wait for you in your new car, making you snort.

"You can stand right here." Joshua points at the small piece of tape on the floor. You grimace, sliding your bag onto Professor Lee's desk and fixing your shirt. "Your necklace is twisted," He speaks again, and you feel around for it.

"Here…can I?" He sets the camera down, and you give him a rather sour look before agreeing. "Fine." "No need to act like this, Y/N." His breath is minty, and it's softly hitting your skin as he works the clasp to the back of your neck. Your grandmother gave you this necklace. He knows, you told him about it tipsy off a mango margarita.

"She got me this on my tenth birthday. I have never taken it off.""She believed in you.""What a shame, right?"

His fingers linger on the glittering pendant, before centering it on your blouse. "Ready?" "What did you mean by different?" You blurt, and his eyes widen as he reaches for the camera. "What?" "You said I…nevermind. Just take the picture, I have somewhere to be." You force a smile, and Joshua gives you a questioning look. He positions the camera, but sighs. "Too forced. Just relax, Y/N."

Huffing, you soften your face, letting your cheeks reach your eyes as you smile gently. "Much better." He whispers, taking the photo quickly. You blink a few times, before reaching for your bag. "And Y/N?" "What!?" You gripe, and he smiles. "Not everything is about you, pretty." Rolling your eyes at the slight lurch in your stomach. Pulling your bag over your shoulder, you stop as he huffs. "Wait, it came out wrong. Can you stand here again?"

He flicks the faulty picture onto the desk, and you quickly position yourself in front of him again. You clear your throat, smiling again as you move your hair to your face – when you see him smiling tenderly behind the camera. "Why are you looking at me like that?" "Hm?" He snaps the photo, taking it as it prints and covering it with his hand from the light. "Nothing, you look a lot nicer when you smile." You don't reply, waiting silently to see if the photo develops nicely. He doesn't speak either, before flipping the photo. You're smiling back at him, and he holds it up. "Satisfied?"

"Yeah, whatever." You shrug, and he nods. He hands you your bag, and gives you a warm look. "Have a good day, Y/N." You hesitate, but take your bag. "You too."

– ☆ –

"Hey, Shua."

He looks up to see Saerom standing in the doorway of his bedroom, her arms crossed as she drags the tip of her shoe against the hardwood.

"Hey! What are you doing here? And if you say you're here to see any of these perverts, I'm going to escort you out myself." She just laughs, shaking her head as she enters his bedroom. It's a bit larger than the others, and she flops onto his bed. "Why did you tell me you slept with Y/N?" Joshua chokes on his spit, coughing harshly in his desk chair. Saerom looks slightly amused as he regains his composure. "Just right out with it, huh?" "Well, she's my best friend. I don't know how I didn't know you were in Mexico, too. I literally watch your Instagram stories." Saerom pouts, and Joshua laughs. "Maybe because I like to live in the moment? I don't document every part of my life, Rom." "I mean, yeah, but still. And how did you guys even have time to meet? I was with her all the time." Saerom wails, making Joshua just shake his head. "She did mention she was on vacation with her best friend. She never mentioned your name, and we also hung out mostly at night. I'm assuming if you guys didn't share a room, you wouldn't have been able to notice, anyway." "We never share a room when we go on vacation together. We like our privacy." She rolls her eyes, and Joshua smiles knowingly. "I know, I was there with Cheol and Han, and I practically begged the front desk to get me one of the beach villas. I did not want to share a room with them, or whatever girl they managed to tag team."

"As your cousin, this is a weird conversation to have. As Y/N's friend, I feel awkward. We fought a bit, and I can't really talk to her knowing that you guys…did it."

"You're so…Okay." He snorts at her theatrics, before opening his laptop. He sees the photo he took of you in the corner of it, your smiling face peeking out at him. He shuts it quickly, having forgotten he took it with him. The photo developed after you left, so it's not like he lied.

"Anyway, she's such a cold person normally. It's hard to get in there." Saerom sighs, and he feels a pang in his chest. You'd opened up very quickly with him, but Saerom didn't know that – nor did she need to. "I guess it works, though, she can be personable when she wants to. Can't believe she wants to own that big ass company her father has. I'd cry myself to sleep if I had that much pressure on my shoulders." You're living such a double life and your best friend doesn't even know it. How can you hide those things from her? Do you fear being judged, or being seen as less than? Someone who can't handle the pressure of being the golden child, someone who can't hold a candle to her parents? Someone who disappoints.

"Yeah, me too."

Saerom keeps talking about you, but he can barely hear her. His phone is open in his lap, and he's staring at the message thread with your burner number.

Msg To: Y/N (PV)

[06/29] hey, this is joshua. [06/29] you left your number at my table.

Msg From: Y/N (PV)

[06/29] hi handsome ;) [06/29] are you free tonight?

He had been free.

He remembers the stupid white dress you wore when you met him at the salsa club. He remembers the confidence radiating off you when you asked the bartender for your drink. You made it evident you didn't need him, that you weren't looking for anything serious – but you slowly dropped the act. You let him in just a bit, you danced with him and you let him walk you down the beach to your hotel room.

You were the one who asked to sit on one of the hammocks on the beach. You were the one who asked him about himself, wondering what his own life was like. You encouraged him to dig deep and tell you his darkest secrets, assuring him you'd share your own as well.

Your life was much more intense than his. He was studying music, he was living it, breathing it, enjoying it. He wanted that, more than anything, and nothing was going to get in his way. But you…you wanted so much more than what you were told you could have.

You wanted to be more than your parents. You wanted to explore, you wanted to live. He remembers how sweet you were when he told you his dreams. how gentle you were when you voiced your opinion on them. He appreciated your honesty and your kindness, and he enjoyed your presence. You…were more than just the intimacy. More than just the makeout sessions you initiated, including that night in the hammock. More than the way you made him chase you just enough. About as much as one can for a vacation fling, anyway.

"...And she makes the best bolognese, Shua. You'd love it." Saerom sighs, making him nod quickly. "I'm sure." "Anyway, I gotta go. I was supposed to pick up dinner, so I can extend the olive branch." She chuckles, getting off the bed. "I'll see you around, Shua." "Bye, Rom. Be safe, let me know when you get home." "Will do." Saerom exits his room, closing the door behind her. He opens his laptop, fishing the photo of you out of the corner and shoving it into his wallet. He should feel weird about keeping it, but that means a perfectly good photo is going to waste! It'll be safe in his wallet.

Unlocking his laptop, he sighs as he sees his email pinging him.

From: [email protected]

Subject: Office Hours

Sent: 10:32PM

Hello. I hope this email finds you well.

I am not able to attend Friday's office hours. I will also not be able to attend office hours next week, as I have prior commitments I must tend to. I know it is rather unorthodox, but would you be available tomorrow? I do not have classes after 1PM and I frankly don't need a language class to tarnish my perfect record.

Let me know if this works for you. Thanks.

Best,

Kang Y/N

010-1230-1995

Thursday, September 8th.

From: [email protected]

RE:Subject: Office Hours

Sent: 11:21PM

Thank you for reaching out. I understand prior commitments can make attending office hours difficult.

I am not able to promise availability for Thursday. Jennie Kim has the office, she is the TA for Professor Lee Chaerin in French II. This being said, I can accommodate in two ways.

I can give you an assignment to be turned in on Friday. You will have to come by the classroom to retrieve it. Or, you can get a study room in the library and I can offer two hours of my time for your use. Please email me back before 10AM if the latter is your choice.

Best,

Joshua Hong

010-9999-8212

Bad idea, Y/N.

Very, very bad idea.

You should have gone to pick up the stupid assignment. You should have picked up the stupid, fat packet he was going to torture you with to make you regret being a douche to him despite basically making the guy fall in love with you over the summer.

Instead, you suffer here. You suffer inside these four walls, with a freshly showered Joshua Hong standing in the doorway, his friends bidding him goodbye. Jeonghan and Seungcheol peer in, their eyes twinkling with something devious – making Joshua roll his eyes as he shut the door with his foot.

"Sorry about that, they're nosey." He's holding a basketball under his arm, backpack hiked over his shoulder as he walks around the room to settle at the table.You haven't spoken yet, just eyeing him down. "Your hair is wet." "Damp, not wet." He corrects you, opening his bag for his sweatshirt. "It's freezing in here, Jesus Christ." "Maybe wear a proper shirt next time." You roll your eyes, opening your laptop to see the digitals you had developed from your vacation. Saerom took a lot of them – you drinking out of a fresh coconut, you wearing a pretty pink dress to the beach, you in a new swimsuit you bought specifically for the trip. There were photos of the two of you together – one a little girl took of you having a picnic on the beach, another of the two of you getting matching tattoos on your ankles.

And one you took of Joshua.

You were sitting on him, right after the two of you woke up in your hotel room. The photo was taken from an odd over-head angle, but his smile was wide and so natural. You were making him laugh, you remember.

"Come on, just one picture!"

"You literally just pinched my leg to wake me up, give me a second!""God forbid a girl wants to wake you up. Come on, I leave in two days!"

You'd lied, you left that night. You dumped your burner in the airport trashcan, not bothering to read the few texts he'd sent you only moments earlier to your arrival there. They were gone forever – and you hadn't felt guilty then, not really. You knew you'd miss him a bit, you knew yourself that much.

You wouldn't have missed him at all if you knew that you'd see him again…for sixteen consecutive weeks. And possibly for the rest of your time on this campus. And possibly, the rest of your life, since you were best friends with Saerom.

The pictures haunt you a bit, you notice.

You're staring at them in silence, feeling a bit of anxiety crawl up your throat when you hear Joshua clear his own. "I brought a few assignments, in case you don't want to do…this." He gestures to the room, and you just shake your head.

"Paying for the class, I might as well try and get along with you." You mutter, clicking your tongue when the photo of Joshua comes back into circulation. "I'm going to the vending machine, do you want anything?" You abruptly get up, grabbing your wallet out of your bag and stalking to the door. He looks up at you, a soft look in his eyes as he shakes his head. "I'm okay." Nodding, you retreat to the vending machine down the hall. You're staring at the ground as you walk, fully expecting to have an uneventful trip not even ten feet away.

However, it seems that even that can't go right for you.

"Hey. You're Y/N, right?" Your head snaps up, seeing Seungcheol and Jeonghan at the vending machine. Your eye twitches a bit, and you clear your throat before nodding. "And you are?" Jeonghan gives you a knowing look, but entertains you. "I'm Jeonghan. This is Seungcheol." With pursed lips, you nod. "Uh, nice to meet you. You guys are in…Beta Tau, right? My friend is rushing it." You stand awkwardly, and Jeonghan gives you a slight smirk. "Yeah? Good luck to your friend, Y/N.' "Yah, don't be like that. Did you want the vending machine? We're still deciding." Seungcheol tugs Jeonghan back a bit, and you quickly feed in your change, pressing the buttons to get what you want. In your frenzy, you get two bottles of jasmine tea.

"Say, Y/N. How was your summer?" Jeonghan asks gently, and you feel your shoulders tense before you glance over with a scowl. "Is it really on your mind that much? I fucked your friend, so what?" "Wow, no need to get so feisty! Kitty has claws." He smiles, elbowing Seungcheol, who just pinches the bridge of his nose. "Whatever, man. God forbid a girl has fun on her summer vacation." You turn on your heel, walking back down the corridor and hearing Seungcheol scold Jeonghan behind you. You nearly rip the handle off the door of the study room, seeing Joshua standing in front of the whiteboard with a textbook draped open in his hand. He looks back to see your furrowed brows, and the two teas in your hand.

"Are you alright?" "Did you have to tell all your friends that we slept together? Because I didn't tell anyone. I didn't even tell my best friend, you told her. I'd appreciate if you would stop ruining my fucking reputation." You slam the bottles on the table, and Joshua gives you a surprised look. "What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?" "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Joshua. Your stupid friend just cornered me at the vending machine, asking me all these stupid questions like he knows something about me. Newsflash! He doesn't, and neither do you!" You sit with a huff, and Joshua's ears are slightly red as he tongues his cheek. He glances down at the textbook in his hand, closing it and sliding it onto the table. You don't bother looking up at him, hearing the jingling of the door before he speaks. "Excuse me."

The door shuts behind him, and you look up to see that he didn't take any of his things. Meaning that he'd be back, after doing God knows what, and you'd have to deal with it. Sighing to yourself, you rub your temples, wondering how things got like this.

The semester just started. You didn't have time for this.

Silently, you begin to pack up your things. Your laptop goes in the designated slot, your extra tea gets packed snugly into the front pocket. You click your tongue, about to get up when the door opens and Joshua emerges with Jeonghan in tow, looking like a kicked puppy.

Your brows nearly reach your hairline as Jeonghan shuffles forward. Joshua gives him a hard look. "Apologize."

Sucking his teeth, Jeonghan gives you a once over before speaking quietly. "I'm sorry that my assumptions and behavior made you uncomfortable, and it won't happen again." The hand gripping your backpack loosens a bit, and Seungcheol pops up from behind Joshua with a sheepish look on his face. "I'm also sorry, Y/N. I know this is an odd situation for the two of you, and our instigation doesn't make it any better." Your jaw is a bit slack, and Jeonghan looks at Joshua. "Can I go now?" "Did you hear her accept your apology?" He asks, and Jeonghan sighs. "I guess not." Blinking, you just give Jeonghan a thumbs up. "You're…you're good, yeah. Uh, don't worry about it. You either, Seungcheol." You look over Joshua's shoulder to the older man, who smiles in response.

"We'll get going, then. We've got a party to plan." Seungcheol says warmly, and Jeonghan turns on his heel to exit the room. "I don't want to hear this shit from you guys again." Joshua mutters, all but slamming the door after them.

"You didn't have to do that." You mumble, and he looks at you with a scoff.

"Yes, I did. Whether we slept together or not is none of their business, and the only reason they know is because they were there. I don't need that being spread around campus or them being douchebags to you." He grabs the textbook again, uncapping the dry-erase marker before glancing at you. "Sit down, you've got me for two hours." You don't like the slight flutter in your stomach, or that your body involuntarily does as he says. You silently unpack your bag again, and he finishes writing example problems on the whiteboard. Feeling your stomach a bit uneasy, you uncap the tea to take a sip.

"Conjugation is very important. When I was grading your quiz, I noticed that was your biggest problem. I don't know how you got a B, really, when most of that quiz was conjugations, but I digress. Can you do these for me?" He holds out the marker, an expectant look in his eyes.

"Sure."

Friday, September 16th.

It'd been a little more than a week since you met with Joshua in the library.

And since the two of you officially acknowledged that you'd slept together. What you didn't know was, while he was having his own feelings about the history that weighed the two of you down, he wasn't going to force you to return his affections. In fact…he even felt a bit silly, liking you so much off of three weeks of getting the full experience of…well, you.

Better yet, he wasn't even going to tell you there are any residual feelings on his end. If he knew anything, it was you and your type. If he came off too strong – flowers, a date, chocolates and the like, he'd scare you off even more. You were skittish, like a deer, and he had to either slowly gain your trust…

Or irritate the living hell out of you every chance he got.

Subtle flirting, double entendres, maybe the occasional lingering look. He knew that if he wanted a chance, and man did he want it – he was going to have to work for it. No problem, though. You were definitely worth the wait.

"So, as you can see, the proper conjugation is hablar, not hablando." His laser pointer is steady at the bottom of the projector screen, and he looks up to see half of the class staring intently and the other half jotting down notes. You were neither of the two – your head was resting on Chan's shoulder, eyes low. He cleared his throat, your head jumping up and a wince crossing your features.

Joshua knew Chan was really no threat. The fraternity really liked him, and he was set to move in this weekend. According to Chan's Instagram story, you'd been at his dorm the night before helping him pack up. Saerom had also been there, and Soonyoung – another Beta Tau member. You had been holding a can of Red Bull and in one of the following videos, you were shotgunning another.

"Any questions?" He calls out, and Haerim shoots her hand up. "Yes, Haerim?" "Since this is a conversational class, how would we ask someone out? Or, for their number?"

The classroom fills with childish snickering, and Joshua just smiles as he shakes his head. "Well, I-" "I don't think this is an appropriate question, to be honest." Your voice is heard from the back of the classroom, and Haerim turns in her chair, a wicked smile crossing her lips as Joshua rounds the desk, perched on the edge of it. "And why not, Y/N?" She asks, and Joshua can see you shift uncomfortably in your chair.

"This is Beginner Spanish Conversation, not Coffee Meets Bagel. Flirt on your own time, at your own pace." You scoff, and Haerim's smile only grows wider. It's like she knows something about you, and Joshua notices you begin to bristle slightly. "Why are you so uptight about it, Y/N? It's just a question." "I'm paying for this class, as is everyone else. I think I'd like to appreciate my money's worth by learning something I'll actually use." "Alright, ladies. Honestly, Miss Y/N is partially correct. This is not Café y Rosquilla, but I do think that this is…a learning moment. Asking someone out does involve conversation, you know." Joshua attempts to diffuse, but he can see your subtle annoyance at his siding with Haerim. "So, for example, if I wanted to ask out…" He looks around the room, before a flash of diablerie crosses his eyes. "If I wanted to ask out Miss Y/N, I'd have to make conversation. I'd say…eres muy bonita." "Yeah?! What else?!" You hear Myungjun shout from the far left side of the room, and you can feel Chan's knee bumping yours. You scowl at him, earning a smile as he hides in his hoodie. "I'd say…" Joshua scans your face, and he knows you're probably embarrassed. Embarrassed, but enjoying his subtle attention. He pushes off the desk, pacing in front of the students. "Hm, I'd probably say I like her dress, or me gusta tu vestido."

He watches you cross your legs, tucking the extra fabric of your black dress under your thighs. "Okay, but how do you ask her out!?" Haerim interrupts excitedly, and Joshua is on the first step of the stairs before he catches your eyes again.

"You don't just ask someone out flat out like that. You build repertoire, you make conversation." He rolls his eyes playfully, and you think you're about to get off without any further embarrassment when you hear Chan speak up next to you. "How much repertoire can you even build at this point? Psychology says it only takes two minutes to decide if you like someone." Joshua sees you gape at Chan, before pinching his bicep. Chan pouts in your direction, rubbing his arm as Joshua holds back a laugh. "Psychology also says that there are five components to figuring out if we will have a crush on someone. Physical attraction, proximity, similarity, reciprocity and familiarity. Miss Y/N is very pretty, so physical attraction is checked off. Proximity is also checked, as we see each other three times a week for this class." "What about similarity?" Myungjun pipes up again, making you sink lower in your seat. Joshua is enjoying making you squirm a bit, and he steps up a few more. "Hm, I think that's something I'd have to figure out. Tell me, Miss Y/N, do you enjoy…long walks on the beach?" Your eyes are full of fire, and you'd be almost scary if he didn't notice the way your lip wanted to twitch into a smile. Haerim shouts for you to answer the question, making you send her a scornful look – and she just sticks her tongue out at you like a child. "I do…enjoy long walks on the beach."

"What a coincidence, so do I! Now, we have a similarity. Miss Y/N is familiar, because again, I do see her quite often. Now, it's about reciprocation. This is when you ask the question, this is when you try and make a move." "Shua, how do we make the move!?" Chan asks, and you kick his shin, about to tell him to shut up when Joshua finally reaches your row. He's looking you dead in the eyes, his hand gently wrapping around the edge of your desk. He leans forward, and you can hear the stupid woo-ing of your classmates. "Señorita Y/N, ¿le gustaría salir conmigo?"

Somehow, this all feels like some stupid romcom for the both of you. The class is egging you both on, and Chan is next to you with the most idiotic smile you'd ever seen. You huff, the class is now chanting for you to agree to said…"fake" date.

"No." You say quietly, and Joshua feigns pain. He holds his hand to his heart, a pained expression on his face. "You wound me, Miss Y/N."

He turns to the class, all of which are giving you the dirtiest look ever. "Now, now. This was just an example, don't look at her like that." He scolds, and the class turns back to face the front as he barrels down the steps, checking his watch.

"Shit, it's already ten past noon. You guys are free to go, and if any of you are taking Psych with Professor Seo Jungkwon, tell him I fulfilled his lecture for the day." This earns a laugh from the class, except you. You're angrily stuffing your laptop into your bag, the class eagerly exiting the room. Chan is holding your arm, apologizing most likely, but you don't seem like you want to hear any of it. By this point, Chan looks a bit like a kicked puppy as he quickly takes the steps down, with you following slowly behind him.

Chan is out the door by the time you make it to the last step, and the classroom is empty.

You arms are crossed as you approach the desk, where Joshua is quietly shutting down the projector. His eyes don't meet yours as he disconnects the machine from the wall, winding the cord up to tie together. "Y/N." He calls gently, and you huff angrily. He bites back a smile.

"Why do you insist on embarrassing me? The first week, it was you running your mouth to my best friend. Last week, you practically held Jeonghan at gunpoint to apologize to me. Today, it's putting me on blast in front of an entire classroom with people I will continue to see for the rest of the year."

"Oh? Was it embarrassing?" He's nonchalant as he looks up, tucking the wrapped cables behind the projector. Your eyes are narrowed, and it seems you've caught onto his little game. "Do you get off on this or something? Knowing you fucked one of your students?" "Hm, not necessarily. And none of what was done was done to embarrass you, per say. It's just decent honesty, and we both know you deserved an apology for Jeonghan's behavior." He states matter-of-factly, making you purse your lips. "What about your behavior? You asked me out in front of all these people!" You gesture to the empty room, and Joshua gives you a small smile. "And you rejected me in front of all of those people. The way I see it, it's a teaching moment."

He's on the same side of the desk as you now, resting against it as you complain. HIs smile seems to be getting under your skin, because you grab his shirt by the collar, pulling his face close to yours before you speak through gritted teeth. "Use someone else as your stupid guinea pig. I don't want to be with you, Hong." You're holding him so close, your lips just barely brushing his. He can't help but scan your face quickly, his hand reaching to brush a stray curl off your face. Your eyes follow his fingers, feeling them tuck the hair behind your ear before he swallows carefully. You can feel your stomach flip slightly as his hand drops, ghosting over your hip as he pushes off the desk, making you slightly stumble back. His fingers grab you gently, pulling you flush to him before his nose is touching yours. "Tell me you don't want me," He whispers, his breath hitting your lips making your lashes flutter closed as you press your lips to his. A whimper escapes his throat as he kisses you back, his grip tightening as your hand lets go of his shirt, your palm resting against his stomach as your other hand holds his waist. The kiss is slow but desperate, your tongue licking into his mouth in the way that drove him crazy over the summer.

He can't help himself, his hand moving to tangle in your hair, moving his lips down your jaw and exposed neck. A sharp inhale from you as he reaches one of the many sweet spots he'd discovered, a soft whine sounding in his ears making him feel dizzy as he nips at your skin. Pulling back, he holds your face close to his as he speaks again. "Tell me you don't want me, and we can stop this right now. I'll be nothing but professional for the rest of the semester."

He can tell that wasn't what you were expecting. Your eyes are wide and full of mixed emotions, but overall, they flash with a bit of fear. "I…" Your hands move to rest on his hips, a frown on your lips as you let go, and he does the same. His arms cross with an expectant look on his face, and you grimace.

"Stop embarrassing me in front of people, and if you don't have a good reason to talk to me or be near me, don't engage at all."

He gives you a nod, his smile reappearing as he reaches to wipe your lip gloss from his lips. "That being said, I'm guessing you will not be attending office hours tonight?" Huffing, you look away. "No. I have to help Chan move into the frat house with you and your hooligan friends."

"So I'll see you tonight anyway." He speaks with a grin, and you tongue your cheek. "Leave me alone, Joshua."

You spin on your heel, but his arm is on your elbow before you can walk away. He pulls you back, pulling you into a hug, pressing his lips to your hairline as you hesitantly wrap your arms around him. He speaks against your hair, "One more. For the road."

"Joshua." You groan, trying to hide the giddy feeling spreading in your stomach. He smiles at you, planting a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Just one, and I'll let you slam out of here like we were arguing."

You roll your eyes, but let him slot his lips with yours, the minty taste of him still lingering from the previous kiss. This one is much gentler, the warmth of his body against yours comforting as he pulls away with a chaste kiss. And another. And another.

"You said one." You grumble, swatting at his side to make him let you go. He smiles, his thumb coming to wipe at your lips. Your lipgloss is gone entirely, just glitter remaining. "Mmh. I'll see you later." "Whatever." You pull away from him, and he watches as you slam your way out of the classroom, a few students from your class still lingering in the hallway catching his eye. They look questioning, but he just shrugs as the door closes. He sighs as he looks around the empty lecture hall, a glimmer on the third step up calling his eyes.

Making his way towards the steps, he sees the gold plating of a seven-pointed star, a message engraved in the back.

For my brightest star, Y/N.

Picking it up, the diamonds mock him.

He feels slightly stupid to think this is fate, while knowing that once you realize it's gone, you'll be panicking. It seems nothing is really going right for you these days – your car being hit, fighting with Saerom, not being able to stand your ground against him…and now your necklace is 'gone'. He wants to be selfish and say it's because you're being a bit of a jerk to him.

So he'll believe that.

– ☆ –

"Chan! It's not here!"

Your hands feel disgustingly dry, having practically ripped apart every cardboard box you helped him pack. You'd managed to haul everything from his dorm to the fraternity house a few blocks down, having begged Saerom and Soonyoung to help you steal a flatbed from the construction majors. The three of you were helping Chan unpack a box of his underwear when you swiped your hair back from your neck, not feeling the chain of your necklace on your skin.

The four of you had stopped unpacking the moment you started panickedly patting yourself all over, and even standing up to shake off your shirt and hair. Now surrounded by a few of Chan's blankets, you were doing all but ripping up the carpet in the bedroom to find your cherished gift.

"It's not in the hallway! Going downstairs!" You hear Saerom call, and Chan is emerging from the bathroom with his flashlight on. "I swear you had it on when we fought earlier."

"Fuck, what if it fell off there?" You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to remember if you felt anything off after leaving the room. People stared at you as you barreled out of the language hall, you kissed Joshua…

You kissed Joshua.

"I'm pretty sure I had it on when I left! Remember, I even changed clothes when I got home so I wouldn't dirty my dress helping you move. I swear I felt it!"

At this point, you're shaking your hair out once more and Chan is throwing ripped cardboard into the hallway, hitting a passing Joshua. "Ouch!"

"Shit, sorry!" Chan winces, and Joshua scours the room, before his eyes land on you. Your hand is gently patting at your chest, where your necklace would usually sit as you shake out your sweater. He gives Chan a look, making him look back at you. Joshua glances at the cardboard boxes on the floor, and Chan gets the hint.

He clears his throat, garnering your anxious attention, "I'm going to take these down to recycling, and I'll check outside, okay? Just keep looking in here, it's gotta be somewhere."

Your eyes are slightly wild, and you just nod as you begin to shake Chan's blankets. A pair of underwear falls out, making you huff as Chan exits his room. Joshua leans on the doorframe, watching as you move around calculatedly. "What's got you so frantic?" You look over your shoulder, now squatted over a pile of shirts. "Why is it any of your business?"

He sucks his teeth, hands resting in his hoodie pocket. "Maybe I can help you? Ever think that I'm not out to get you like some sort of Boogeyman?" Your shoulders sag in defeat, and you just beckon him into the room. "Shut the door." You mutter, and he does just that before squatting in front of you, his ringed fingers splayed across the shirts in your hands.

"Shake these off."

"For?" He asks, but takes the first one and does as you ask. You feel a tear threaten to escape, but blink rapidly as he takes the next shirt. "Just do it." He does, but by the fifth shirt, he looks up at you. "You know…if you tell me what you're looking for, I may be able to help further." He says it like he knows something, and you just roll your eyes as you move onto the stack of Chan's sweatpants. "I lost my necklace, okay? I can't find it."

Stopping his movements, he smiles at you. "Hm, any idea where?" "No." You sigh, shaking off another pair of pants. A dollar bill floats out of the pocket, but neither of you bother to touch it as it floats down to the carpet. "I think you're wasting your time looking in here, actually." You look at Joshua, who is now moving to stand up. Scanning his face, your eyes narrow. "Where is it?" Stretching, he extends a hand to help you up. You scowl, getting up on your own as he shrugs. "Come on." He walks towards the door, flinging it open as two of the members run past with a basket full of eggs. "You better not be throwing those in here!" He barks, and their giggles only get louder as they barrel down the stairs.

He leads you to his bedroom, leaving the door ajar for you to close as you enter.

Your eyes scan the bedroom – it's very…serene. It's bigger than Chan's, and the bed is right under the window. There is sheet music pinned up to a corkboard above his desk, a few guitars propped up against the wall. His walls are covered in photos of him and his friends, and you spot one of him and Saerom as kids pinned higher on the wall than the rest. There is a small bookshelf, with a Bible and a few candles on top of it.

You're standing at the foot of this bed when you feel his hands on your neck, making you jump slightly. "Relax." He murmurs, the cool metal of your necklace making you shiver slightly.

"I found it on the steps in the classroom. Your clasp broke, so I took it to my friend in town. She's a jeweler, and she fixed it. I have the original clasp, in case you wanted to keep it." He holds up a plastic baggie, no bigger than the palm of his hand. You turn to look at him, your hand ghosting around for the star that hands in the middle of your chest.

"I should have texted, or emailed, at the very least. I just figured, I'd see you anyway—" "Thank you." You interrupt, your arms instinctively enveloping him into an embrace. You squeeze slightly, his own hands hovering over your back before touching you gently. "You're welcome." Without moving away, you speak into his sweater. "I'm sorry I've been such a douche to you lately."

He laughs a bit, his chest moving against your cheek. "Yeah…you have been. I'll send your parents an invoice for emotional damage." His fingers are rubbing circles in your back, and you hate that he knows you joke about your parents' emotional unavailability. Biting back a laugh, you push off him. Your hands linger at his sides, and he tilts his head.

"I meant what I said, you know." He states, and you glance up at him with a quizzical look on your face. "What?"

"That if you don't want to do…whatever this is, I'll leave you alone. I'll be professional for the rest of the semester." He gestures between the two of you. You don't look as taken aback as you did in the classroom, but a scoff does escape your lips as your arms fold across your chest.

"Okay? What does that have to do with now?" He steps a bit closer, making the back of your knees hit his bed. You sit out of instinct, watching as he runs his hand through his hair. He's so handsome.

"It has everything to do with you, and your general existence. Your best friend is my cousin. You're friends with Soonyoung, Jun and Chan, and they're all members of my fraternity. You're a student in a class I assist, we're going to be around each other no matter our feelings about each other." He's not really giving you an out of this conversation.

"I know you don't like that I told Saerom about what happened between us during the summer, and I want to apologize for telling her in the first place. It just slipped out, and I am sorry." He speaks sincerely, and you blink up at him before scooting slightly back on his bed, crossing your legs. He takes this as a sign to continue.

"I also want to say that what happened between us doesn't have to mean anything to you, at all." He shifts uncomfortably, making your eyes narrow. "I know it was just a fling, and I'm probably just confused about my feelings."

You hate the way tears prick at your eyes, before he spins his desk chair out, sitting down and leaning forward.

"I wanted to ask if you want to be transferred out. I have the transfer form ready, there is a spot in Professor Yoon Mirae's class. She said she'd gladly take you if that was the case." Your head snaps up at this, his eyes boring a hole into the pictures on the wall. "You…want to transfer me out?"

He stares at his fingers, toying with one of his rings as he replies. "I think it would be best for you. It only meets twice a week, and you'd probably get along better with Somin." He looks up at you, and you don't know what expression is on your face for him to immediately soften. "You don't want to?" "I think you…" You swallow thickly, scooting towards the edge of his bed, moving to stand up. "I think we need to forget that anything even happened between us." You whisper, and you can see hurt lace his eyes before he clears his throat, looking away from you as he nods. "Right." "I don't want to hurt you, Joshua." You fake confidence, noting the way he blinks rapidly, before standing up. "You're not hurting me, Y/N. We fucked over the summer. It's not like we dated."

You wince at his use of words. "Yeah, but–" HIs hand pushes the baggie with your clasp in it into your hand, "Don't worry about it, Y/N. I'll see you in class on Monday." Your fingers instinctively close around his, moving to squeeze his hand before he pulls it away. You stare up at him, feeling your face slightly burn in humiliation. You know that he's sensitive, and that the kiss earlier today probably meant a lot to him. Why is he acting like this? Like you didn't open up to him and tell him everything you couldn't even tell your best friend, like you didn't sleep with him for three weeks straight before leaving Puerto Vallarta.

You remember Chan's words…something something forming a crush in two minutes.

What can happen in three weeks?

"Was that all it was for you?" You ask gently, watching as he turns away from you. "I really don't want to have this conversation right now." He mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose and walking towards the door. He tugs his hoodie off, the white muscle tank showing off his broad shoulders. Shoulders you dug your nails into that summer, and you can see the remaining faint lines from you trailing down his back.

"Was it just sex?" You ask again, and he sighs. "No. It wasn't."

He hangs the hoodie up on the hook behind the door, and you take a step to him. "Then why are you acting like this?" He turns to look at you, eyes wide with incredulity. "Me?! Why are you acting like this? For almost a month you couldn't keep your hands off me, you couldn't stop talking about hating your life here, and suddenly, through whatever force of the universe, we're both stuck in this life that you dread. Excuse me if my best effort isn't enough for you." Eyes narrowed, you can feel your stomach bubble with a bit of anger. "There's no way you're the same guy I fucked for three weeks, Joshua. We were on vacation in a foreign country. I was telling you everything about me because I wasn't worried about ever seeing you again." "No, you did that because you're a liar." He mutters, making you suddenly feel a lot smaller than usual. "I am the exact same person I was then, Y/N! I'm not like you, I can't just flip-flop between two personalities. I can't lie to everyone that I care about just because I'm too afraid to stand up to my parents. You're doing yourself a disservice."

He's breathing heavily, and you can feel the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Your pride is stronger, though, and you let out a humorless laugh. "I'll see you on Monday."

You shove past him, throwing his door open and slipping out before you slam it with all your might. You see Jeonghan carrying a basket with Chan's name on it down the hall, his eyes wide as you storm past him.

"Are you o-" "Fuck off." You spit, not bothering to swing back into Chan's room for your stuff. Saerom could bring it home, or leave it there, you don't really care. All you really know is that this place has got to be the most suffocating you've ever felt.

Wednesday, October 12th.

It'd been almost a month since you'd last spoken to Joshua.

You weren't in class the following Monday, having instead driven out to one of your mother's properties. You stayed the weekend there, and only drove back in the middle of the night on Tuesday. Professor Lee emailed you, and so did Joshua – though his was very much a copy-paste email. You didn't seek him out, you didn't speak to him. He didn't even attempt to make eye contact, almost always being the first to exit the classroom. You didn't even really talk to Chan or Saerom since you'd helped him move into the frat house, and you could tell they were growing worried about you.

Especially Saerom, as she heard Wherever You Will Go by The Calling play through your speakers almost everyday since. You played this song the first time the two of you went on vacation together, you were nineteen and your grandmother had just passed away that past November.

You didn't have time to worry about their feelings, though, as you parked your car in the lot, Chan silently unbuckled his seatbelt. It was nine-forty-six in the morning, and the two of you sighed simultaneously. "Want to take the long way? We've got fifteen minutes." You check your watch, and Chan gives you a slight nod. "Sure." The long way was walking around the language building into the technology hall – and Chan decided now would be a good time to update you on how Jeonghan and Seungcheol had an ongoing prank war with Mingyu and Wonwoo. It apparently wasn't going to end this weekend, and the reason? Beta Tau Omega was notorious for holding the best Halloween ragers. They held the largest one every year, with the other frats on campus stumbling to be pre-game parties and sororities simply giving up and going to the parties instead of hosting. The problem here was sourcing – Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Joshua planned the party every year, including the random Jell-O wrestling and drinking contests. The liquor was never-ending, and the clean-up after was a mess (and at the hands of the newest members.)

This year, Mingyu insisted that he and Wonwoo could plan an even better party than the trio – hence, facing the wrath of practical jokesters Seungcheol and Jeonghan. Joshua insisted he wasn't involved in this, and would help either duo with the planning if necessary.

"Are you even listening?" You hear Chan snap his fingers in your face, and you blink at him. "Yeah, sorry. Planning?" He begins to speak again, allowing you to loop your arm with his and rest your head on his shoulder when you look up – and see Joshua leaning against the wall, twirling a strand of Baek Hyejin's hair. She was the Organic Chemistry TA, you got your labs graded by her. She was always very sweet.

You can feel eyes on you as you and Chan walk in lockstep down the stairs, and you see Joshua staring at you as Hyejin speaks to him. Nodding along as if he's listening, as if he cares. You scoff inwardly, shaking your head as you force your eyes forward, ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach.

It doesn't even matter. You don't like Joshua, and you wouldn't date him, either. You had too much to lose.

Seeing as you drove down to one of the properties, you met with your mother, as well. Your Saturday was spent in your mother's office, designing a new building with her to place on one of her newest properties down south. "You're going to manage this one first. The other tenants don't know you yet, and you'll have to ease into getting them to like you."Your father wasn't around the entire weekend. Your mother sighed repeatedly over dinner, before ultimately abandoning her plate at the table and whisking herself away with a bottle of Merlot. You didn't ask many questions, but you do remember walking by her study before going to the guest bedroom and hearing her on the phone, presumably with her sister.

"I wonder when she's going to get married. He can't be some random guy…do you still keep in touch with the Mins? Maybe Yoongi is willing this time." You hadn't even graduated yet, and she was already trying to pawn you off. Your father had stated strictly that he didn't want you to marry until you were firmly situated within the companies he owned, and your mother constantly bickered against it. No one ever asked you what you wanted.

Not that it mattered, anyway.

"...And so, Mingyu had to wash flour out of all his bedsheets. I think we'll have to get a new washing machine." Chan sighs as the two of you turn into the language hall, and you grimace. "You probably will, that shit sticks like glue." "Yum, gluten patterns." Chan laughs as you shiver, walking into the classroom. Somehow, Joshua is already there, making your grip on Chan's arm tighten a bit. He gives you a concerned look, but allows you to pull him slightly closer to you as you climb the steps to your regular seats in the corner.

"Good morning, everyone!" Joshua calls with a smile, and you hear the majority return the greeting as you and Chan situate yourselves. Crossing your legs, you face forward to see Joshua holding up a three-page packet. "There is a quiz!" A collective groan echoes the room, and Joshua gives a sorry grin. "I know, I know. However, it is an open-note quiz! Feel free to use your notes, and there is no time limit, even if you go over the noon end of the class. Take your time, and you can leave right after you're done." The class just fills with murmurs as everyone begins fishing through their bags for their notebooks, but you made no effort to do so as Joshua began walking around to distribute the papers. He hands two to Chan, who passes you yours and you notice the way Joshua's eyes linger to Chan's jacket on your shoulders before going back down the steps.

"I'll be grading these tests over the next two days, and I'll submit your grades by Thursday night. That way, we can review on Friday and you can attend office hours later that day if you're not satisfied with your grade or just feel like you need a little more help. Sounds good?" He asks, and earns a resounding yes from the class.

Time seems to be dragging on as you carefully read and re-read every question, hoping that your lack of notes won't fuck you over. You remember Chan giving you shit last week for only taking notes on your laptop – and you probably should have listened to him when he told you. Why? Because now you're without notes and you're possibly a little more than screwed, you've only been studying for your other classes.

Your 'how hard can it be?' mindset was now biting you in the ass.

You glanced up to the clock, seeing that there was fifteen minutes to noon – and three students remained aside from you and Chan. Clearing his throat, Chan inched his notes closer to the edge of his desk, making you kick his foot to move them back. He huffed, closing the notebook and standing. He tucks it into his backpack before hiking it over his shoulder, whispering that he'd meet you at the cafe as you'd planned last night. You nod, blowing him a joking kiss before hearing Joshua clear his throat.

The two of you look up, seeing the assistant with a raised brow, beckoning Chan towards the front. Chan gives you a small smile, before making his way to the front. You can hear them whispering at each other, and another two students stand up. You can feel a bit of nervousness sinking into your stomach as the last student stands as well, her bag on her shoulder as she drops her test on Joshua's desk. They chat for a bit, and you hate how you can hear his smile.

"B plus, way to go, Jiwoo. Keep this up, you'll get an A on the final!" He cheers, and she gives him a thumbs up before prancing out of the room. You feel small in the giant room, and Joshua sighs as he leans back in his chair. His laptop is out, and you assume he's going to start inputting grades.

Instead, you hear soft music flowing from the laptop as he starts moving around, grabbing the broom from the corner of the room. "Let me know if it bothers you, I'll turn it down." He speaks, and you just wave him off without looking at him.

You're staring at the stupid question for five minutes before huffing, not knowing why the difference between the subjunctive and the indicative mood even matters for this class. (Yes, you do. You're just being stubborn because you don't know the answer and it bothers you.) "Having trouble?" Joshua calls from the front, a smile on his face as he texts someone back on this phone. Probably Hyejin.

Probably planning a stupid date at a stupid restaurant where they'll order stupid dishes. Probably staring at each other like idiots and liking each other so much that nothing seems to satisfy their carnal needs–

You stop scribbling on your paper, blinking at your sudden train of thought. Why do you even care? Why does it even matter who he's texting, and what he's doing after this? Why? "Y/N?" He calls gently, and you look up to see a worried look on his face. "You okay? Thinking kind of hard, aren't you?" You huff, grabbing your bag by the strap and slightly crumpling your paper as you grab it. Your anger seems to radiate off you as you rush down the steps, nearing the desk with a sour look on your face. "So much for taking my time, huh?" He gives you a small frown, holding his hand out for your quiz. "I wasn't rushing you, just asking if you're alright. Your face was scrunched for twenty minutes." You know it was. You can still feel the tension between your brows as you rub it gently, a pout on your lips as you hand him the paper. "Yeah, well…your job isn't to stare at me. See ya."

"Hmm, but I like staring at you." He hums, uncapping his pen with his teeth as you make your way to the door. "Have a good day, Y/N." You hate the sing-song of his voice.

– ☆ –

The cafe had been super packed, so you and Chan decided to take your drinks to go. Unfortunately, Saerom was holding a study group at the apartment, so your only option was Chan's room at the frat house. You begrudgingly let him try to cheer you up as you sulked up the stairs to his room, holding your drink as Chan carries your bag for you.

"You know, one of the brothers thought we were dating? They asked me after I left Spanish earlier." He ponders aloud, and you snort. "Yeah, I can see why. I do get…pretty affectionate." You reply sarcastically, taking his hand in yours for extra emphasis.

He rolls his eyes as the two of you reach the top floor, and he fishes his keys out as you continue to tease him. "I'd never date you, you're a snotty-nosed brat. I bet you don't even know how to kiss." He sticks his tongue out at you, making you gape.

"I may be a snotty-nosed brat, but I'm a great kisser. Not that you would know, you've never felt the touch of a woman." You bite back, making him gasp. "I have too felt the touch of a woman! You literally took my-" He cuts himself off, looking over your shoulder down the hallway. You furrow your brows, looking over to see Joshua whispering sweet nothings in Hyejin's ear as he hugs her, and her giggles as she brushes her nose against his.

"I'll see you later?" He mumbles, eyes low as he nearly kisses her. She giggles again, before placing her manicured nail on his chest. "Bye, Joshie." "Bye." He smiles, letting her spin out of his arms, watching as she walks down the hall to the stairs. Only then does he notice that you and Chan are standing there, and his face flushes lightly. "Hey, guys. Sorry you had to see that." "Don't be." Chan nods awkwardly, his hand finding your hip to pull you into his bedroom. You grimace in Joshua's direction, before skirting into Chan's room. Chan lingers at the door, before sighing, and entering his room.

"Don't be upset, Y/N." He murmurs as you kick your shoes off, setting your drink down on his desk and shrugging off his jacket. "I'm not upset." You mutter, grabbing your bookbag and pulling out your laptop.

"I can tell you are." He sighs, slipping his shirt over his head, and opening his drawer to reach for a new one. "He's just our TA for a little longer, then we'll both pass the class and get the hell out of there." You look over your shoulder as he pulls a new shirt over his head, rolling your eyes. "It doesn't matter. He's gonna fuck who he wants to, so all I can do is the same." "Y/N, I am only a man." He gives you a warning look, and you snort. "Not you, you rabid dog." "Hey! I've gotten better! I even invented a stroke, I call it the helicopter." He moves his hips in a circular motion, making you shriek out a laugh. "You're a fucking freak."

"I'm just saying, I'm available. If not, I heard that Myungjun is still into you." He shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. You wrinkle your nose, taking a seat on his bed. "Hell no. He likes to talk about his hookups, I don't like blabbermouths." "Then you're fucked, Y/N." He smiles, taking a seat at his desk. "But, I have a proposition." "Chan, if it involves your dick anywhere near me, I'm going to kill you." "You liked it the first time!" He throws an eraser at you, and you snicker. "I didn't know any better then. Anyway, I see the way you look at Haerim. You're not slick." You wag your finger at him, and he flushes lightly.

"So my plan is, I let you act a fool in here and make it seem like we're fucking, and you have to help me get Haerim. Tit for tat." He points his pen at you, and you scoff. "That is so not tit for tat! Haerim is a distinguished young woman, she'd never go for a gremlin like you." "Hurtful!?" He slumps in his chair, making you snicker. "I appreciate your help, Channie. But really, I don't care. It's his life." You shrug, and Chan knows you're lying. "I'm gonna get some water, I'll be back."

You hop off the bed, smoothing your skirt as you open the door. "Can I also steal snacks?" You ask, and Chan nods. "Go for it, Seungcheol buys them." He snorts, and you give him a grin as you close the door behind you.

You take a deep breath as you brace the stairs, hearing a few of the frat brothers speaking quietly in the den. Peering over the banister, you see a card game strewn on the coffee table, with Jeonghan, Seungcheol and Joshua holding cards. They're all dressed comfortably, and Seungcheol has an ice pack on his knee. He looks up, seeing you peering over the banister. He doesn't speak as you smile at him, only returning it as you continue down the steps. You make it back down to the first floor, giving them a curt nod as you walk past them into the kitchen. "Gentlemen." "M'Lady." Jeonghan replies without looking up, and you look over his shoulder to see that he's got a dirty deck of cards, and he's about to win. "Don't mind me." You skirt into the kitchen, grabbing two cups out of the cupboard and helping yourself to the ice machine. You mind your business as you move around, grabbing a bag of chips and a packet of Gushers, before you see a woven basket on the counter with an assorted amount of condoms. You grab a rope of them, holding it between your teeth as you tuck the chips under your arm and the glasses in your hands. You move back across the den, once more greeting the men. "Gentlemen."

Joshua looks up to see why your voice is different, seeing the blue foil packet reflecting the light. Seungcheol snorts, "Have fun, don't be too loud. Minghao is sleeping across the hall from you." "Will do, Cheol." You reply, carefully trekking the stairs. You can hear a soft Ow! What'd you do that for!? as you reach the top floor, hearing the front door slam. You put the cups down on the windowsill next to the stairs, and look over the banister to see Seungcheol and Jeonghan snickering. "Did he leave?" You call, and Jeonghan gives you a thumbs up. You rip the top condom off the thread before tossing down the rest. "Thank you, Beta Tau Sluts!"

"You're welcome!" Seungcheol calls back, catching the condoms before they land in his drink. You grab your drinks again, carefully opening the door with your elbow and Chan looks up to see you. You set the glasses down on his desk, holding up the condom between your fingers.

"Use this with a really special girl, I just pissed off the Vice President of your frat with it." You snicker, and Chan just shakes his head. "Get in here, idiot. We need to study, or OChem is going to eat us for breakfast." "Oh, me first!"

Friday, October 14th.

Joshua put in grades the night before, and you were one point shy of a B minus.

You pretend it doesn't bother you.

Chan was sick, so he'd texted you that morning asking to take notes for him. You took the opportunity to invite Haerim to sit with you – and talk him up. Luckily, there wasn't much talking to do – she already thought he was very cute, but didn't make a move because she thought the two of you were together. You were honest about the past between you, and she just snorted, admitting she'd done the same with a friend of hers.

Msg To: Channie ♡

[10:33AM] mission haerim x chan is a go! [10:33AM] i gave her ur number so…don't fumble.

"Hello, everybody." Joshua calls from the front, and you and Haerim snap your heads up. He starts setting up the projector after everyone replies to his greeting, and she glances at you. "I wonder who broke his heart over the summer." She sighs, and you nod.

"I don't think she meant to." You shrug, your heart warming a bit at the memories. You really regretted it, of course – and it bothered you that it didn't bother him more. You'd been spending a lot of your nights just thinking about it, about him, about opening up to him.

"Well, I hope he heals. She definitely messed up, I've heard he's an absolute sweetheart." She nods, and you smile tightly. "Yeah, he is. His cousin is my best friend. Saerom?" She nods again, "I have Psych with her." "Alright, we're reviewing today." He sighs, and you notice how tired he looks. Eyes are a little swollen. Maybe Hyejin dumped him.

You don't like the giddy feeling you get at that thought.

The review goes by quietly, with Joshua's voice growing more and more tired as he speaks, and he wraps the class up with almost thirty minutes to go. Students walk by and say they hope he feels better, and he just nods at them. You linger, telling Haerim you need to talk to Joshua about office hours, and she leaves without a second thought.

The door closes behind her, and you clear your throat.

"Sick?" You ask, holding out a bag of cough drops. You'd bought them that morning, after Saerom complained of sore throat. He glances at you, and the bag, before shaking his head. "I'm good." Frowning, you step closer to him as he puts his laptop in his bag. "Then what's wrong?" Your voice is gentle, and he stiffens at the sound of it. "Nothing is wrong, Y/N. Thank you for worrying, but I'm fine."

He looks up at you, his eyes lightly rimmed red. You go to speak, but he pulls his bag over his shoulder, moving away from you. "I'll be at the house today, Chan is sick. If you need to talk." You say, before spinning on your heel to leave.

He doesn't respond, only turning away with a frown. "Have a good day, Joshua." "You too, Y/N."

– ☆ –

You were standing in front of the Beta Tau house, waiting for someone to come open the door. Jun was at a study session with Saerom and Soonyoung was out teaching a class, so you were at the house alone. Hearing the doorknob jingle, you look up to see a sleepy Seungcheol opening the door.

"Hey, Y/N. Come in, Chan is in his room." He yawns as he opens the door wider, and you just shake your head in amusement. He and Jeonghan had stopped being a problem after Joshua called them out, and it wasn't long for you to figure out they were friendly based on their treatment of Chan. Very brotherly…very…teasing.

"Hey, Y/N." Jeonghan gives you a curt nod as he stands in front of the mirror by the stairs, giving himself a once over before turning to Seungcheol. "I look okay?" "Yeah." He nods, and you look at Jeonghan over your shoulder. There is a silver packet sticking out of his pocket, "Might wanna tuck that in a little further." You call, before turning back around and trekking the stairs.

"Thanks!" He calls, shoving his hand in his pocket with wide eyes. Seungcheol laughs as you reach the top, before you hear the door open and close with Jeonghan's departure. "Boys." You roll your eyes, before reaching Chan's door. You carefully open the door, trying not to let too much light in.

Chan is draped across his mattress, a fever patch plastered on his forehead. There are half empty bottles of electrolyte drinks all over the floor, and a bowl with Jeonghan's name printed across it. You look inside, seeing broth lingering.

They're taking care of him.

"Y/N?" You hear him croak, and you almost coo. "Oh, Chan. You're a mess." You set the bag of goodies down on his desk, fishing the thermometer out. "Open." You command, peeling the patch off his forehead and sticking the thermometer in his mouth.

You pick up a bit before the thermometer beeps, and you stare at the numbers. "Pretty mild, you've got a 101° fever." You grimace, shaking the thermometer off before skirting around to unpack the bag.

"I'm going downstairs to make you some tea, okay? I'll be right back." You mumble, before peeling the plastic off another fever patch and sticking it to the back of his neck. He shivers a bit, but nods as he closes his eyes.

Exiting the room just as carefully, you sigh. Taking the stairs quickly, you spot Seungcheol on the couch, "Hey." "Hey. He took some Advil a bit ago, and we've been alternating." He informs, and you can feel warmth spread across your chest. "Aw, you guys really care about the pipsqueak." "He's a good kid." Seungcheol nods, taking a sip of his water before eyeing the ginger root in your hand. "Cutting board is in the bottom cabinet, to the left." "Thanks." You smile, making your way to the kitchen. You see Joshua standing against the dishwasher, arms crossed and eyes closed. There is a popcorn bag in the microwave, likely his. You don't bother to say anything, just quietly opening the cabinet and retrieving the stone cutting board, rinsing it with water.

"He's also thrown up everything we've given him the past twelve hours." Joshua murmurs, his eyes still shut as he nods. "Oh. Sounds like viral gastroenteritis." You sigh, opening the drawer for a knife as the microwave beeps. He doesn't move towards it, but fills a pot with water for you and puts it on the stove. He watches silently as you slice up the ginger root, your shoulders tense.

The water starts to heat up, and you move to find a mug and honey. "Here." Joshua pulls one out from behind him, water droplets still on it from being freshly washed. You take it, "Thank you." "Can we talk when you're done? I'll be in my room." He murmurs, and you nod slowly. "Yeah, sure. I just need to feed him, something is something." He nods, opening the microwave to pull out the bag. He turns, opening a cabinet to retrieve a bowl and pour the popcorn in. He gives you a tired nod before exiting, and you peek around the corner to see him hand the bowl to Seungcheol, who thanks him quietly.

You sigh, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand. You strain the boiled ginger tea, pouring it over three cubes of ice and a hefty amount of honey. You clean up quickly, and organize things in the kitchen before exiting again, a spoon in your hand in case they didn't give you one for the porridge you bought.

"Good luck." Seungcheol smiles at you, and you give him a soft laugh. "Thanks, I'll need it."

Trying to get Chan awake proves to be most difficult once you get back to his room. He rolls over lazily, and you have to prop him up so he can drink the tea. You also carefully prepare his porridge, even going as far as spoon feeding him.

"It's so bland." He whines, and you just shake your head at him. "It's supposed to help your stomach, Channie. Just eat." He gets halfway through the bowl before he decides he doesn't want anymore, asking you to just leave it. You nod, putting the lid back over the top and choosing to clean up the mess in his room. Bottles, plates, cups, all in your arms as you exit the room once more, carefully walking down the stairs.

Seungcheol sees you, and quickly gets up to take them from you. "Woah, I didn't realize it accumulated so fast. Here, I got it, pretty." He grabs everything in one hand, before taking it to the kitchen. You follow, rolling up your sweater sleeves when he waves you off. "You're a guest. I got it, go." You find yourself floating back into Chan's room one last time, just peeking in to make sure he's sleeping. You call out, telling him to call you if he needs anything, that you'll be here for a bit. He just gives you a thumbs up. You take a deep breath, seeing Joshua's door slightly ajar. You walk over slowly, knocking on the door gently and poking your head in. He looks up from his desk, his laptop open to six different tabs and a drafted email. "Come in."

"Hi." You greet, closing the door behind you. He sighs, rubbing his palms on the fabric of his sweatpants. You inch toward him, looking at his screen. It's full of drafted projects, and the email is addressed to a certain Kwon Jiyong, DMA. You reach over and gently close the laptop, his tired eyes watching you do so.

"What's wrong?" "I'm sorry." He confessed, and you tilt your head. "Hm?"

"I was a jerk to you, the other day." He blinks up at you, and you stand for a moment, thinking back. "You mean when you called me a liar?" You smile, a soft laugh escaping. "I'm not mad anymore, you're weren't wrong. I am a liar." Shrugging, you point to the bed. He nods, and you take a seat. "Whether or not you are one…doesn't give me the right to treat you the way I did. I blew up on you, and I never do that, and it's frankly been eating away at me." He admits, and you nod, trying not to let your eyes go too wide. "Losing sleep?" "Unfortunately." Muttering, he opens the laptop again, typing in his password for the tabs to pop up again. "This isn't helping, either." he spins the mouse all over the screen, and you nod.

"Maybe you should take a breather. Go for a walk, find a muse." You offer, and he looks at you with a pained expression. You think this is the smoothest conversation you've had since your reunion. "Come on, let's go on a walk." You stand, offering your hand. He looks at it, and you wiggle your fingers.

He stands, taking it cautiously as you walk forward, grabbing his sweater off the hook and handing it to him. You open the door, seeing Haerim in the hallway with a bag in her hand.

"Haerim?" You call, your hand tightening around Joshua's, and she jumps. "Shit, Y/N. You scared me." She holds her hand to her chest, before holding up the bag. "I bought him some stew, Mingyu told me he's been really sick." Joshua peers over your head, making Haerim's eyes widen like saucers. "Shua?" "Hey, Haerim." He nods, and only then does she see the tight hold you have on Joshua's fingers. "I can explain–" You start, and she just smiles widely. "Damn, I didn't recognize your game. Respect." She nods, holding her hand over her mouth. You wince as he shrugs, tugging you slightly forward.

"Text me." She whispers as he walks past you, and you nod quickly. The two of you walk down the stairs, and Seungcheol is now sitting on the couch again – and he gives you a lazy smile. "Damn, Y/N. You've got hella game." You laugh embarrassedly, as Joshua fixes the way your hands are intertwined. He slots his fingers between yours, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door and opening it. "Ladies first." He murmurs, and you wave goodbye to Seungcheol before stepping out into the cool October air.

"Where to?" He asks, closing the door behind himself. You shrug, shivering slightly as you start down the path. "Wherever you need to."

The two of you walk aimlessly, before you spot the hill you used to visit during your sophomore year, before you finally convinced Saerom to transfer to your university. You'd lay on this hill with Jun, staring at the sky and talking to him about the stars. He was always surprised about how much you knew, but was kept in the dark like everyone else.

Everyone but Joshua.

"Here. I used to come here all the time." You point at the lavender-covered hill, and he lets you lead him up, before standing amongst all the flowers. "Look at the sky."

You tilt your head up, watching as the evening sunset looms overhead. He does the same, before speaking quietly. "I'm not dating Hyejin." Your head lolls to the side, a knowing look on your face. "I know." You lie, shrugging nonchalantly as you turn back to the sky. "How?" "You like me. Hard to move on so fast." You hesitate, and he inches closer. "Yeah?" "Yeah." You breathe, feeling the warmth of his body radiating onto you. You shiver a bit, and he sighs, tucking you into him. His sweater is open, and he lets go of your hand to wrap your arms around him. He does the same, wincing lightly at the cold feeling of your hands on his back.

"I'm still very sorry, you know." He laments, and you give him a tight smile. "I shouldn't have said any of it, especially not about your parents." He looks down at you, your eyes peering up at him already.

"My parents suck, don't take back what you say about them." You shrug, scanning his face. "I am confused about the Hyejin thing." "Right, that." He sucks his teeth lightly, a slight blush coating his cheeks. "She…asked for my help, and I have a really hard time saying no." "Of what nature was this 'help?'" You make air quotes, and Joshua can see a glint of the green-eyed monster in your demeanor. He smiles, moving to card his fingers through your hair gently. "Making an ex-boyfriend jealous kind of help." "Doesn't explain why you two were about to kiss when Chan and I got up the stairs." You say pointedly, his fingers toying gently with your earring. Another gift from your grandmother, he remembers these, too. A sun and a moon. "Let's just say I could recognize your voice from a mile away." You quirk a brow at him, before scoffing. "You're obsessed with me." "Since I saw you in that white dress." He nods, making you roll your eyes. You bite back your smile, "Can I kiss you?" "You're asking?" He tilts his head, and you snort. "Some of us don't like to assume things." You say with a tinge, and he shrugs. "I know when someone wants me." "I don't want you." You shake your head, a frown on your lips as you run your own hands through his mussed hair, peering over his shoulder to see an empty campus. Odd, for this hour. "Oh, you don't?" He entertains your shenanigans, before tilting your chin up to look in your eyes. "Nope." You pop the 'p', nuzzling your nose with his. His fingers are gently tracing your jaw before he presses his lips to yours. You melt into his touch carefully, his other hand softly holding your hip, squeezing before he pulls away, touching his forehead to yours. You blink up at him, "I don't want you. I need you."

"Did you sleep with Chan?" He asks, a bit roughly as he adjusts his hold on you. His hands move to rest on your back, and you shake your head. "Not recently, no." "Recently?" His eyes widen, and you snort. "Once, three years ago." You roll your eyes, and he nods. "No plans of sleeping with him soon?" "None." You murmur, and he bites his lip, a smile threatening to take over. "Plans of sleeping with anyone else?" "Don't know, there is this one guy." You pretend to think, pulling his hands to the front and lacing your fingers with one, taking him further down the hill slowly. The flower field comes into view, and you look up at the sky to see it's darkened remarkably. "Do you know the story of Altair and Vega?" "The story of Altair and Vega?" He echoes, allowing you to sit him down, plopping down next to him before clearing your throat. You nod, placing his hand on your inner thigh. "For warmth." You roll your eyes, before leaning back on your hands. "It's an old Chinese legend. Altair is the brightest star in the Aquila constellation." You search the sky for it, before spotting it overhead. "There." You point, and he nods.

"You told me about those three stars over the summer. Vega, Altair and Deneb." He recalls, and you feel your smile take over your face. "You remember that?"

"We can talk about that later." He shrugs, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you nod carefully. "Right…so, out of the three, Vega is the brightest. In their story, Altair is nothing but a shepherd. He herds cows after being abandoned by his family, and he yearns for love. His only love is music, and he plays lovely melodies on the flute."

Turning slightly to face him, you shrug. "Vega was said to be a goddess, from the Heavens that was forbidden from interacting with mortals, but she heard his song and it was love at first sight. She would leave the Heavens at sunrise and sunset to be with him. They even had children together. Her mother grew suspicious, and demanded she return to the Heavens. She did so."

"The shepherd had a beautiful ox with thick skin. Seeing the way his owner yearned for the love of the goddess, he offered his skin as a sacrifice to reunite them. It didn't work."

"Why?" Joshua asks gently, his eyes still staring up at the stars overhead. "Her mother was enraged. She created a band of stars to separate them. Their love can't be, not the way they want it." You sigh, and he glances at you.

"So what are you saying?" His voice holds no malice, only curiosity. You feel his hand tighten around your thigh slightly, prompting you to remove it and swing your leg over his lap, adjusting yourself to sit on his thighs. He gives you a look of confusion, but you just lace your fingers with his before taking a deep breath. "I'm saying that I'm a coward." You admit with a mutter, not able to look him in the eyes as you blink back the sting of tears. "I'm saying that…I want to, you know. I want to be brave, I want to tell my parents that I'm not their puppet, I want to pursue my own dreams." "What's stopping you?" He murmurs, his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin. "Fear." You sigh. "Fear of failing. Fear of…not being good enough." "Good enough for what? You're smart, you're passionate. You love this." He gestures at the sky, and you look into his eyes, his face blurry behind tears as you whisper just loud enough for him to hear you. "Good enough for you."

He sighs at this, reaching his fingers up to wipe at a few fallen tears. "There is another story in your legend, but in Greek mythology." Your head tilts to the side, and he smiles. "Lyra, means lyre. Orpheus was a musician in mythology, and a renowned poet. He even went down to Hades' hell to try and save his wife." "Eurydice." You murmur, and he nods. "He loved her more than anything, alongside his music. The story of how Lyra came to be, is that Eurydice died. She was bitten by a venomous snake and had long died by the time Orpheus found her. He was so heartbroken, he played the saddest melodies known to man and it affected everyone else just as much as it did him. He loved her so much, he went to the depths of Hades' hell to beg for her back, to live her full life, to enjoy her time."

He scans your face, feeling your fingers trace shapes into his abdomen. "Hades broke the rule, one time. He sympathized with Orpheus, and since they were both mortals, he knew they'd eventually return to him once their lives were over. The catch?" He took a piece of your hair between his fingers, twirling it through nimble fingers.

"Eurydice had to follow him out, and he wasn't allowed to look back at her until they got back to Earth, lest he'd send her right back." He said with a hum, watching as your lips pursed in discontent. "He turned back, didn't he?" "He feared she'd get lost in the dark. Just before they got back, just before they made it, he looked back and the gates to Hades' darkness were shut. He wept for her, for seven days and seven nights outside of those gates, but he never saw her again." He sighed, tucking the strand of hair behind your ear. "He was beaten to death by drunk women four years later, during a celebration for Dionysus. He never moved on, and was deemed a woman hater because he consistently rejected any and every woman for his Eurydice. His lyre was thrown in the river, and Zeus sent an eagle for it. That's how you got Lyra."

Pointing at the sky, the two of you watch how the sky slowly turns.

Without looking back at him, you whisper, "What are you saying?" "I'm saying…I don't want you to be Eurydice. Lost forever because I can't let you go." He splays his large hands across your thighs, the cold of his fingertips making you look back down at him. "But, I know that Orpheus and Eurydice deserved a happy ending. And I know that three weeks is a very short time to get to know someone, but I think…I know you better than almost anyone in your life." You stifle a laugh, nodding. "Nobody knows me like you, Joshua. Saerom doesn't even know I'm a double major." "Bad girl, very bad." He scolds you teasingly, before his thumbs press lightly into your thighs. "I want you to be happy. And if it means that this…whatever, we are…is a secret for a while, I'm okay with that." He shrugs, and you glance down at him.

"You know you deserve better, right?" You murmur, and he sighs. "It's either you or that lunch lady from my freshman year that's been after me for ages. Please, please save me." His tone is joking, but the look in his eyes is serious, solemn.

"Are you sure?" Your thumb pads his slight under eye bags, and he leans into it. "Yes, but don't give in to me so easily. I like the little mind games you play."

Snorting, you flick his nose gently. "What, so you want me to keep being defiant?"

"It's kind of hot." He crinkles his nose at the admission, and you let out a laugh. A genuine laugh, unlike your normal ones. "You're so…" He trails off, tilting his head to the side before sighing.

"I'm so what? Annoying? Stubborn? A snotty-nosed brat?" You prod, and he just smiles. "Yes, all of that. But…I don't know. You're so…easy to love."

"You…love me?" The confusion in your voice makes his chest ache. "I can't, uhm, I can't say I'm super well versed in the topic." He clears his throat, seeing your eyes become slightly glossy. "I just…I know that you feel right. I know that seeing you makes me less stressed. Nobody has been able to pull me away from my desk all week, Cheol had to physically drag me out earlier to eat something. I keep thinking back to our first night together, because the stress of some deadlines I have coming up is just driving me mad. But closing my eyes and just thinking about you, and knowing that you're not really this person you've painted for ages, I know. I think I feel closer to you, knowing that you've confided in me to keep this secret of yours, and I'm honored. I want to make you feel…wanted, needed. I want you to know that you are so much more than 'good enough.' If anything, I will never be enough for you, and I could spend the rest of my life working to earn you and your love." You're silent for a moment, taking in his words as your hands ghost over his. You give him a small smile, toying with the ring on his finger. "I should get you home." You murmur, and he smiles as he straightens, placing his hands on your back so you don't topple. "Anywhere you are is home, Y/N."

You don't respond, choosing to give him a chaste kiss. "We really need to get you home, I have to check on Chan." You speak against his lips, and he nods. "Fine, fine." The two of you get up, and Joshua files your lack of response into the back of his mind. Was it too much? Did he cross a line?

The walk is quiet, but you're holding his hand tighter than you had on the stroll earlier. You're holding him closer, even holding onto his arm with your opposite hand and resting your head slightly on his shoulder. When you reach the frat, he unlocks the door to see Seungcheol and Jeonghan debriefing about Jeonghan's date on the couch. Jeonghan almost calls him over when he sees you float in after him, a loud whoo! from his mouth.

"Shut up!" You groan, gesturing up the stairs. "Chan is sleeping!" "Woo!" Jeonghan cheers again, albeit quieter, and you roll your eyes. Joshua takes your sweater off your shoulders, and you allow him to do so as he hangs them on the rack by the door. "How was your date, Jeonghan?" "Good! She was very sweet, good taste in music." He smiles softly, before glancing between you and Joshua. "Did you…talk?" He clears his throat, and you feel Joshua's hand on your back, his eyes looking up the stairs.

"We can debrief what happened between us…at a later date." You smile, and Jeonghan gives you a knowing look. Seungcheol sips his beer with a smirk, shaking his head as the two of you climb the stairs gingerly. "Check on Chan." Joshua whispers, kissing the back of your neck before turning to his room.

Knocking gently, you open the door to see Haerim watching him carefully. She's holding the thermometer in her hand, shaking it as she sighs. She doesn't startle when she sees you, a warm smile on her face as she holds it up. "Still mild fever." "No vomit, right?" You ask, closing the door behind you. She shakes her head, pointing at the empty stew bowl she brought. "He practically inhaled it." "Traitor, he didn't want to eat the porridge I brought him." You scoff, and she laughs. "How was…you know." She gestures in the direction of Joshua's room, and you feel yourself get a little giddy. She notices the wry smile on your lips, giving your arm a soft smack before nagging you. "What happened!" "He likes me." You shrug, biting back your squeal as she bounces on her toes with a toothy grin. "He likes you?!"

"Yes!" You giggle, bouncing with her, and Chan groans behind the two of you. You both clench your teeth shut, lowering your voices. "I'll update you some other time, okay? I'll be at his beck and call, so don't worry about Chan." Haerim nods, not bothering to probe before she hikes her knapsack over her shoulder. She leans, pressing a soft kiss to Chan's hairline, telling him she's leaving. He nods weakly, squeezing her hand before she pulls away. "Should I get one of the guys to walk you home?" You ask, and she shakes her head. "My roommate's been waiting for ages for me to call her. I'll see you on Monday?"

She walks towards the stairs, and you nod. "See you, Haerim."

"Chan, I'm going home. Call me, or have one of the guys call me if you need anything." You call into the room, and he groans in response. You snort, grabbing your purse off his desk and carefully shutting the door, sighing as you take a few steps down the hall to Joshua's room. You knock lightly, opening the door when you hear him hum.

He's sitting in front of his laptop again, a frustrated look on his face as he connects a soundboard to his laptop, before feeling your presence. You smile at him, arms crossed before you speak, perching on the edge of his desk. "I'm going home."

"I know, I asked Cheol to walk you because I really need to focus." He says, a bit of sadness peeking through. You nod, "Thank you." "Can you text me when you get home?" His question is more of a demand, but you can see he's not trying to push it. "Yes, sir." You push off the desk, reaching to wrap your arms around his neck as he leans into his computer.

"Don't work yourself too hard, lover." You whisper in his ear, pressing a kiss to his temple before feeling his hand on your wrist, twisting his head to look at you. There's a soft blush coating his cheeks. "What'd you say?" "I said I'm going home." You change your expression to a stoic one, and he almost chokes on his laugh. "I'll see you on Monday."

"Yeah, for sure." He gives your wrist a gentle squeeze, "Let me walk you out, at least." "Don't kiss me in front of your friends." You warn, and he snorts. Standing, he watches as your arms drape to your sides before you clasp your hands in front of you before walking out into the hallway. You both barrel down the stairs, and hear Jeonghan whining over a bottle of tequila about his date. "She's so hot, Cheol, you don't get it." "I get it, I get it." Seungcheol replies distractedly, his eyes flickering up to you and Joshua reaching the foyer. "Ready to go, Y/N?" He stands, going to the closet to rummage for a jacket. "Yeah, thanks for doing this." You smile sheepishly, and Jeonghan looks up. "Oh, you're going home?" "Yeah, Chan's sleeping and…" You clear your throat, giving Joshua a quick glance. He catches on, "I'm busy. Doing shit. Important, you know."

"Tell us more about how you wouldn't be able to control yourselves, why don't you?" Jeonghan grimaces, and you snort. "This is why you're here, yearning for your date instead of being back at her apartment." "The hell is that supposed to mean!" He pouts, and Joshua snorts as he helps you pull your jacket on. "It means you're a bitch, Han."

"Don't make me tell Y/N all your dirty little secrets, Hong." Jeonghan tilts the shot glass in his direction, making you go wide eyed as Seungcheol returns, a blue and white varsity jacket draped over his shoulders. "Alright, let's scoot. The night is young." He stretches, and you smile at Jeonghan.

"Hope you get the girl, Hannie." You say softly, and his eyes soften. "Thanks, Y/N." "Bye, Joshua." You murmur as Seungcheol steps outside, muttering about the cold under his breath. Joshua looks to Jeonghan, who has his eyes closed, before pulling you into him. "One for the road?" You roll your eyes, "One for the road."

Thursday, December 29th.

The past two months had been a mess. Your parents had continuously dropped by randomly (and they dropped by the night of the Beta Tau Halloween rager), making both you and Saerom annoyed. She'd recently started seeing Jun (which kind of makes you grateful you're not in the apartment for their study sessions, who knows what freak shit they're on) and neither of you could study or rest in peace without feeling like they'd drop by.

Missing the party was the least of your worries, because you knew Joshua wasn't going to be involved in it anyway. He sent you a text from his desk, his guitar needing to be restrung because he couldn't pull himself away from his work. You'd told him to go for a walk.

Message From: Joshua Hong (TA) [11/03] What use is a walk if you're not there to kiss my worries away? You hadn't replied, opting to choose to scream into your pillow like a giddy teenaged girl.

In this time, you'd also managed to sit Saerom down and really speak to her about yourself. You told her that you didn't feel like yourself, and when she asked why, you broke out a bottle of wine and the two of you broke down the last few years of your lives. You admitted that you didn't want any part of your family's business, and Saerom had only given you a softened look.

"Don't pity me, Rom. You know I hate that shit.""I don't, my love. I don't pity you at all."

You'd cried quite a bit, and she'd just watched quietly and wiped your tears as they came. She understood, and she voiced that she thinks she would also do the same – the lying, the escapism, the misunderstandings. She apologized, saying she was sorry that she ever made you feel like you couldn't confide in her – smiling slightly when you said that she was never the problem, it was knowing that you'd be admitting to failure. She understood that, too.

The apartment felt more homey after that – Saerom took the time to go out and buy a few things she thought you'd like – a few constellation posters, a Lego set for you to build together of the Milky Way. She built the astronaut and NASA shuttle herself, placing those in your room when you texted her a few days after she bought them saying you'd had a rough day. She heard you crying in your room, only entering to comfort you when she heard you call her name.

These weeks were also particularly difficult because you'd seen less and less of Joshua. You never considered yourself the clingy type, and the Beta Tau brothers were definitely becoming more familiar with you as the days passed. You saw Joshua outside of class maybe twice, and it was once during office hours and once by going to the house to check on Chan right after Joshua admitted his feelings for you. He'd gotten a lot better, but you'd picked up his assignments from classes you didn't share so he wouldn't fall behind. He'd asked you what was going on between you and Joshua, and you just shrugged.

"We're taking it slow."

"Please don't fuck while I'm still sick, I don't want to hear it."

You and Joshua seemed to have no plans of doing so, it seems. Your schedules did not line up, and you could see him become slightly more stressed every time you saw him. Your classmates noticed something different about him, and you and Haerim just giggled in the back when he'd steal a glance at you. She never said anything to anyone, either.

Once school let out for the winter break (and you disappointedly passed Spanish with a B minus), you did everything in your power to avoid going home. You told your parents any lie you could grapple at – Saerom was sick, you were sick and didn't want to get them sick.

The truth? You just wanted to ring in the New Year with your…boyfriend? You didn't know what the two of you were, and you weren't afraid to admit that to yourself. He was graduating soon, and possibly taking a gap year before continuing his studies. You knew this much through texts – the one thing the two of you did have time for. He sent you voice notes on his way to anywhere, he'd send you pictures of the night sky before going to bed – asking if you could point out any constellations for him.

Message From: Shua <3 [11:32pm] Are you home? [11:33pm] Before you answer this, is Saerom home? I don't feel like explaining myself, I just want to lay the fuck down.

You snort at his message, giggling to yourself at his new contact name. You don't know if you'll ever get used to it.

Message To: Shua <3 [11:33pm] Saerom went home for the break. Something about introducing Jun to her mom.

His reply is almost instant. Message From: Shua <3 [11:34pm] Open the door, I'm freezing.

From your seat on the couch, you hear Joshua groan behind the door and you laugh. Tossing your phone to the side, you quickly get up and unlock the door. You see a pouty Joshua holding a bag of takeout, eyelashes lightly coated in snow as he enters the apartment. "You hate me." He whines, and you snort.

"I can make you go back out in the cold, if you'd like." You shrug, making him scoff as you carefully unravel his scarf. He closes his eyes as you take his jacket, and yank his beanie off his head with no care. "When do I get my kiss? I haven't seen you since finals, I deserve a kiss."

"It's like, twenty minutes until your birthday. You can't wait?" You roll your eyes, feeling a ball of fabric hit your back. You look down to see his pink glove on the floor, making you scoff out a laugh. "Now you're definitely not getting a kiss." "Oh my Goooood, you hate me!" He pouts, grabbing your arm and pulling you close to him. You shake your head, gently nuzzling your nose to his cold one. "Not one bit." You still hadn't told Joshua you loved him. Granted, the two of you were not dating and hadn't properly seen each other in literal ages – as much as 'ages' can be for two idiots in love.

"Why are you dressed like this? And why have I never been here before? This place is cool." He looks around, spotting the astronomy figurines Saerom had started getting for you, the walls covered in photos of you together and he spots the photo of you and your parents gathering dust on one of the shelves. He doesn't mention it.

"Dressed like what? My pajamas?" You look down, and he tugs at the seam of your shorts. "Rather…provocative." "Shut the fuck up, it's almost bed time." You roll your eyes, swatting his hand away from the bare skin of your thighs. He smiles amusedly, planting a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, before peppering them all over your face. His lips meet yours lightly, a chaste taste of his strawberry lip balm lingering on your plush lips as he pulls away.

"The bag is just mochi. I already had dinner." He says sheepishly, and you shrug. "I did, too. To be honest, I wasn't expecting company." "I didn't think you'd stayed on campus." He nods, and you sigh with a sad smile. "Don't wanna see my parents." "Right. How's that going?" He asks, pulling you to the couch with one hand. You let him lay down, pulling you on top of him. Your knees hug his hips as you straddle him, his hands resting high on your thighs. "It's…going. I should call them, but I really don't want to–" You hear the doorknob wiggle, tensing in Joshua's hold as you turn. The lock turns, and your muttered whisper of fuck makes all the alarms in Joshua's mind go off. You climb off of him as the door is pushed open, and you can feel your skin heat in embarrassment as your mother scoffs, stepping into the apartment. Joshua carefully slides off the couch, stepping next to you.

"Jesus, she keeps this place a mess." She groans, looking at the bag of takeout on your dinner table. She hasn't seen you yet, placing her giant designer bag on a chair as your father comes in behind her. "All you do is judge the girl, no wonder she doesn't want to come home." He rolls his eyes, but they land on you – standing with beet red cheeks and an equally embarrassed Joshua by your side. Your father's eyes dart to the link between you – Joshua's hand gingerly interlocking your fingers. You don't speak, and he looks at Joshua's eyes filled with slight worry.

"Can you go get her? She's probably holed up in her room, looking at those stupid mo– Who the fuck are you?" Your mother has turned now, her narrowed eyes on Joshua before landing on you. "Who the fuck is that? You said you were sick, and you have company over?" Your throat is dry, and you feel frozen when Joshua steps in front of you, shielding you from your parents' view. "You must be Y/N's parents. I've heard a lot about you, I'm Joshua."

He extends his hand, and your father eyes it before taking it, shaking it firmly. "Nice grip you got there, son." Your mother scoffs, tugging her scarf off her neck with a visceral anger. Joshua can feel you cower behind him, your fingers gripping onto the back of his shirt. "Joshua what? What do you do for a living?" He clears his throat, watching as your mother walks around the apartment without taking her shoes off, taking down stuff from the walls. "Joshua Hong. I'm a producer." He lies through his teeth, and your mother scowls as she sees the Lego version of the Milky Way hung right by your bathroom. She takes it down, tossing it carelessly on the couch.

"A producer? You won't make much money."

"That's enough." Your father speaks up, and sees you peer at him from behind Joshua. "What are you to Y/N? Boyfriend?" "Not allowed!" Your mother announces, her hands now occupied by your opened mail. Bills, bills, a credit card statement, bills…and your summer internship at the Korea Astronomy and Space Institute.

"I am…her boyfriend." Joshua whispers, losing a bit of confidence as your mother angrily walks back to your foyer. "What's this?" She holds the acceptance letter up, your eyes shutting closed as you see it in her hand. "Fuck." You murmur behind Joshua, and your mother begins to read it aloud.

"Esteemed Miss Kang, it is with great pride that we award you with the July KASI internship studying plasma physics." She crumples the paper slightly in her fist, and your father pries it from her hold as you step out from behind Joshua, and she really lays it on you.

"We told you from the start that these silly little dreams about space and stars were not going to happen. You are the sole heir to the companies, the properties, you have to continue the family business. Don't you care about that? Don't you care about paying us back for everything we've given you, and continue to supply you with? Don't you get that this is not an option?" She's not yelling, but her words cut deep as you nod slowly, the words tumbling out before you can stop to think about them properly. "I don't care." Your mother looks taken aback, and you feel your stomach flip as you clear your throat. "I don't care about properties, or companies. I don't care about money, or marrying for wealth. I…" You breathe in shakily, and Joshua instinctively puts his hands on your shoulders, an act not unseen by your mother's beady eyes.

"I don't care about being part of a family that is fueled by greed. I can't do it anymore. I hope that…you find another fit." The last part comes out as a bit of a sob, and you cover your mouth quickly. Your mother is fuming, and she turns to your father, who is silently reading the letter in his hands.

"I didn't know you liked plasma physics." He murmurs, and you feel Joshua's fingers squeeze your shoulders lightly. "I didn't even know what you were studying, if I'm being honest." Your father admits sheepishly, smoothing the crumpled edge of the sheet carefully.

"This is a very hard program to get into. I would know," Your father holds the letter out to you, and you reach to take it, holding the corner gingerly in your fingers. "You would know?" Joshua echoes, and your father nods.

"I applied. I got the June internship for aerospace engineering, my best friend was so jealous." You don't know the last time you saw your father smile. "I'm…proud of you. I know it's a little late in saying that, I've been quite the absent father.I guess, I can't even really say father."

Your mother is tapping her foot, garnering your attention again. "Whatever rebel strike you're on isn't cute, Y/N. I've got investors waiting to meet you, wanting to draw up contracts, to build new properties with your name across the front." Your father sighs, shaking his head as he looks at the two of you again. "Joshua, could you give us a moment?"

You turn to look at him, your eyes pleading him not to leave. He gives you a sorry smile, squeezing your shoulders before kissing your hairline. "I'll be in your room." He murmurs, and you nod, watching as he walks away, slipping into the only open door in the hallway. He shuts it behind him.

Your father sighs, leaning against the door frame. "Your mother and I are getting a divorce."

You can feel your eyes widen as far as they go, your mother flushing furiously. "Can I ask why?" "It's none of your business." She grits, and your father scoffs. "I'm selling the company. I'm tired, Y/N. Being in business is not what I want to do." He shakes his head, and you try to bite back a smile.

"It's not?"

"No. I'm donating the money to the Aerospace Engineering program here, actually." He gestures around you, indicating the University. You feel your lips tug into a smile, your father's warm eyes matching yours. "I don't understand why you can't just leave the company in Y/N's name so she can take over when we're both dead and gone. At least it sets up a stable future for her!" "She won't be happy, Bora! That's why I can't do that. Nothing in this life means anything if we're not happy." He groans frustratedly, and you feel almost taken aback by your father's words. He'd always been a silent man – a bit cold, with two friends and love for one thing: baseball.

And space, you now know.

"This is fucking ridiculous. I cannot leave my investors hanging, and I refuse to hand over my properties to someone I don't even know!" Your mother is exasperated, and you almost want to laugh at how you and your father shrug simultaneously.

"Whatever." She grumbles, snatching her purse off the chair, pulling it over her shoulder. She gives you a nasty look, "I assume this means you will also bail on meeting the Mins' youngest son? Yoongi has been waiting to meet you."

"Yoongi can shove it." You shrug, and she just shakes her head in disappointment – but for once…you don't care. She slams out of your apartment, her scarf flung over the back of your couch. Your father gives you a gentle smile, and you return it.

"I'm sorry for not being a better father to you, Y/N. I should have tried harder." He laments, and you see his eyes begin to gloss over with tears. You step forward, enveloping him in a loose hug. "I think…standing up for me and what you believe in, is a step in the right direction. I haven't been a very present daughter, either."

He laughs shakily, giving you a tight squeeze. "How about you and I get dinner in the next few days? You can even bring Joshua, I kind of like that kid." He mumbles, and you feel your stomach flutter at the mention of your…boyfriend's name. "I'll check our calendars and shoot you a text, okay?" "For sure, kid." He pulls away, softly patting your head. "I'll see you, okay?" "Yeah. See you." You nod, opening the door for him. He leaves with another word, your mother's scarf in his hand as he exits your apartment. You feel a wave of relief wash over you, but bite back your tears as you lock the door and march to your bedroom. Opening the door, you see Joshua flopped diagonally across your bed, phone in his hand.

It's twenty minutes past midnight, and the date reads December 30th.

"Hey, you." He looks over his shoulder, and watches as you pin the acceptance letter to the corkboard above your dresser. You put your hands on your hips, staring at it with a bit more content in your heart.

"Hey, boyfriend." You say, turning to face him. His ears turn pink, and he sits up. "It just came out, okay? I'm sorry, I know I haven't even taken you out to dinner or anything but I really, really–" You crash your lips to his, pushing him back onto your bed as you straddle him. "Yeah, yeah. No need for explanations." You peel your shirt off, tossing it to the side as he looks at you with wide eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Happy birthday, lover."

Saturday, May 6th.

"Joshua Hong."

You cheer loudly from the stands as he crosses the stage, watching his cheeks tinge pink as he hears you over the clapping and yelling from his fraternity. He smiles as the photographer takes his picture, before looking up at the stands to find you. You wave excitedly, and his eyes brighten all the more. I love you, he mouths.

I'm proud of you, you mouth back. Wimp.

– ☆ –

"Hey, gorgeous. You a tourist?" You're standing at the bar of the same salsa club you and Joshua danced at last summer when you hear Joshua's voice behind you, and you struggle not to roll your eyes. The two of you only stayed at the graduation long enough to watch Jeonghan cross the stage, before Cheol texted the group and said he was sneaking out.

The three of them had booked a last-minute trip…back to Puerto Vallarta.

"The city where you fell in love!" Cheol teased as the group loaded into the car, with you sitting on Joshua's lap in the backseat. Saerom was sitting next to you, and Junhui was giggling at the redness of your cheeks as the pair of douchebags teased you to no end. It didn't matter though – you felt Joshua smile into your shoulder as the group pulled into the airport.

"Yeah, I am. Are you?" You played his game, waiting until he finally came into your line of vision with the same baby blue guayabera you first saw him in. Your stomach flutters lightly as his hand ghosts your back. "Nah, I've been here before. Got my heart broken by a cute thing, she looked a little like you." "Alright, that's enough roleplay you weirdo." You scoff, shoving his hand away from you as he laughed, He stepped slightly closer, ignoring your faux annoyance. "Right, right…I know some cool places here, if you'd care to join me." His eyes twinkle something mischievous as the bartender slides you your drink. You take it with a thank you, before sighing and linking your arm with Joshua's. "Do you, now?" "I do. There's some pretty hammocks down the beach, you can see all the stars right now." He glances up at the sky as the two of you leave the club, your shoes clutched in his hand as your toes sink into the warm sand. You smile up at him, "What do you know about stars?" "Someone very special once told me a story about two lovers who couldn't be…and they reside in these very stars." He points at the sky, and you nod. "You know, I once heard a story like that, but they were involved in Greek mythology." You stare up at the sky, when you reach the hammock the two of you shared that first night.

"Really? Was it about Orpheus and Eurydice? I love that one." He smiles as he helps you on, fixing the skirt of your dress to cover your legs more. "Your star-crossed lovers, were they Altair and Vega?"

"So you do know stars." He slides in, and you rest your head on his chest. "I do. Love them, actually." "You're my brightest star." He murmurs, kissing your forehead lightly as his hand maps out the Lyra constellation. "It's so pretty, isn't it?" Looking back down at you, he sees the gloss over your eyes and sits up. "Babe! Don't cry, oh my God–" "I love you." You blurt, watching as his brows raise, his ears tinging pink in the low light of the moon. He lays back down slowly, and you scrunch your face before sitting up and looking down at him. "Hello? Big moment here, asswipe?" "Just a second." He smiles painfully, and your brows only furrow more. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm hard." He whispers, making you glance down. "Don't look at it! What's wrong with you!" He pouts as you burst into laughter, your hand resting on his stomach as you muffle your laughter with his shoulder. "It's not funny."

"You're such a LOSER!"

Pulling back, you wipe at your eyes, catching your breath.

"But you love me too, right?" You ask, peering down at him as he rolls his eyes, smiling widely. He brings you closer to him, his lips ghosting over yours as he speaks softly.

"I love you so much, I'd bring down the stars if you asked me to."

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