#really really sick of how judgmental he is

[theseinfernalangels]

The Rhythm of Rain - Dain Aetos

Synopsis: Dain is lowkey confused by your whimsy, send tweet.

Includes: Awkward&Confused!Dain, bits of Anya lore that I haven’t explained in full yet, your usual sassy dragon commentary. Takes place before Fourth Wing.

Cool licks of rain streak down your skin as you stare into the gray expanse of clouds that hover above you. This is the first time in three days that you’d been able to really stand outside for more than ten minutes, and honestly? You’re genuinely so content with being stuck outside in the spring downpour.

Fíoch, though, has other ideas. “You can’t be serious,” he chides. “I can understand needing to feel the air on your skin, but rain? You are most certainly odd, Anam.”

His words don’t bother you. “I thought that’s why you liked me,” you reply, reaching behind you to tug your hair from its usual twin braids. “It’s not like being odd is a bad thing.”

“I chose you because you are like the sun breaking from the clouds after a storm,” the dragon says dryly. “Not because you like storms.”

You lean against the railing of the Commons balcony, working your fingers hastily through your now-free hair. Little droplets slide from your leathers, and you know you’ll probably have to dry and treat them later — but you know it’s worth it. Rain like this doesn’t come often in Morraine, unlike your home corner of Calldyr, so that means you’ll have to enjoy it while it lasts.

“So what?” You ask Fíoch. “You get to feel rain whenever you want if you have wings. I don’t. Let me take the opportunity to enjoy it.”

The Brown snorts. “If you come down with an illness, do not blame me.” He goes silent a moment later, and you can only presume that he’s blocked you out for the time being, the sassy little beast.

Damn. You should get on to learning how to do the same. It’s been only a month since Threshing, so your mental connection is still fairly raw, but tuning out your dragon’s never-ending commentary on your life choices would be a blessing. It wasn’t annoying, per se — now that you’ve been acquainted with the Brown dragon for some time, you’d actually grown fond of having his presence within you. Dragons could just be so judgmental sometimes, you know? Sure, they’re the superior beings, but knowing that the creature that you’re bonded to for life is raising his metaphorical eyebrows at most of your decisions sometimes made you huff in irritation.

A scuff of a boot brings your attention back to your surroundings, and your fingers fly to the crescent blade that dangles on a chain by your thigh, gripping the leather-bound hilt tightly. The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts the peaceful rhythm of the rain around you.

“My bad, Holt. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Ah. Dain Aetos, the high class conformist, has come to rain on your parade (pun not intended) once again.

“Aetos.” You keep your voice carefully neutral. “You’re fine. Surprised me, is all.”

Your opinions on your section-mate were…mixed, to say the least. On one hand, he was incredibly intelligent, obviously dedicated, and damn sexy. On the other, though, he loved to drag people through the mud when it came to upholding the Codex — something you, a go-with-the-flow type, couldn’t stand. Where was his line? Was there anything that could convince him to step away from the rulebook for at least once in his life? Let’s be honest — did he even have a life?

Your silence is taken as an invitation to step closer, and soon enough, you’re both leaning against the stony railing that looks over the sides of the Box Canyon. You can feel him watching you, his eyes fixed on your loosened hair that blows gently in the breeze, but your eyes stay stationed on the darkened sky.

“I have to ask,” Dain says quietly. “Why are you standing in the rain? You could get sick.”

A cocky little smile threatens to reach your lips. “Why are you? You don’t have to be out here.”

“Neither do you,” he shoots back. “But you are. I’m just curious.”

You shrug. No matter what, at the end of the day, he’ll probably think you’re a cloud-chasing idiot anyway, so there’s no use in trying to come up with some half-hearted excuse for willingly getting rained on.

“I like the rain. It doesn’t rain much in Morraine — which is ironic. Morraine. More rain. Whoever came up with the name needs to get their eyes checked.”

You shake your head, trying to get back on track with your point. “Anyway, Morraine doesn’t get as much precipitation as Calldyr does. It just reminds me of home.”

To your surprise, Dain nods. You remember that he’s probably lived in Calldyr at some point, due to the fact that his father has definitely been stationed there. He’s likely never been to your side of the city, though — the rundown, sketchy, and sometimes downright nerve-racking streets of the Scathan district.

“Makes sense.” He shifts a little, likely unable to say same given the number of times he’s moved cities. “But you’re seriously not concerned for your health? That feels a little beneath you.”

What the hell do you know about me? You want to ask. How does someone like you know what I’m above? You can’t bring yourself to ask that, so you just scoff a little. “Please. It’ll take more than sky water to take me out. I’ve been rained on harder than this. I just enjoy it.”

His brow furrows in a way that makes your heart flutter. “Enjoy it?” He echoes. “The rain? What’s there to enjoy about it?” As if catching himself, he shrinks a little where he stands. “Not judging, just asking.”

You hum quietly for a moment, trying to decide if he means it. “I guess you don’t hear it,” you murmur. “The rain has a rhythm to it; you know, the way it falls and hits surfaces and such. It’s natural music, and it makes me happy.”

A rhythm. It was no secret to the people in your section that you loved music. Everywhere you went, someone could hear you humming a tune. You made up countless songs to help memorize the events of the Great War. Sometimes, if people found you alone, they could hear you sing the songs your adoptive family used to sing on the streets. Dain admittedly secretly sought you out for that sometimes — not even his disciplined self could resist the curiosity that was piqued when he caught wind of your low, smoky voice. It was beautiful, really. 

And for some reason, it scared him. A lot.

“Makes sense,” he repeats, more to himself this time. “It’s, uh, pretty cool that you can pick up on all of that. I think most people just hear the drops themselves.”

You nod in agreement. “They do. I hear it like a refrain. Sometimes it speeds up, sometimes it slows, but it stays consistent most of the time.“

A thought pops in your head, and you tuck a lock of your now-soaked hair behind your ear to get a better look at him — posture somehow impeccable despite being leaned over, little droplets sliding down his leathers. “Hey, Aetos?”

His eyes twitch over and meet yours. “Yeah?”

You don’t miss a beat. “Why are you out here?”

He’s silent for a moment, as if he didn’t actually consider why he would be standing outside in the pouring rain next to someone that he didn’t even like all that much. His nails — ink-stained and bitten short, you notice — drum along the railing absentmindedly.

“I don’t know,” he admits, looking back over the canyon. “You’re standing out in the middle of an April shower in nothing but light flight leathers. I just got a little concerned.”

You blink, caught off-guard by the admission. Dain Aetos, resident judge of all things you, was concerned about you? You couldn’t be sure if he was joking or not.

“Awww,” you coo. “You’re concerned for my well-being now? I’m honored.” 

His coffee-colored eyes narrow a little. “Obviously,” he mutters. “I thought you were crying, and that’s out of the ordinary for you. I—“ He sighs and scrubs a hand over his face tiredly. His voice lowers a little when he continues, as if he was telling you a profound secret. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Well. If nothing else got your attention, that certainly did. Dain wasn’t an asshole by any real means, but to go and admit that he had cared enough about you that he wanted to make sure you weren’t upset? That was the definition of progress.

You shoot him a small smile of gratitude. “I appreciate that, Dain.” You watch as he stiffens a little at the sound of his name and then relaxes in less than a second. “But, yeah. Not upset in the slightest. Quite the opposite, actually.”

The smile he returns can only be described as…Well, nervous. “Of course. Just watching out for a section-mate.”

Your heart sinks a little as he reduces the gesture to duty, but the feeling quickly recedes when Fíoch mumbles quietly in that corner of your mind. “Deflecting. He is too insecure to really show you that he cares. Human males always cease to impress me.”

You bite down hard on your tongue to keep yourself from laughing, and you nod. Dain, looking slightly disheveled, glances around and then fidgets with one of the buttons on his crisp jacket. “Guess I have to get out of here. I’m—“ He looks away for a moment. “I’m glad you’re okay, Holt.” He spins around quickly, maybe too quickly, and leaves you alone in the pouring down rain with an amount of confusion that could knock out a bear. 

“Okay?” You say to no one. “Great. Thanks, I guess.”

Fíoch snorts in your mind. “You need to focus on fixing your face, girl. I can see that lovestruck look in your eyes from literal miles away.”

“And you need to focus on minding your business,” you counter, watching Dain leave with a sudden hollow feeling replacing whatever you’d felt before. “If I’m lovestruck, then youabsolutely adore being caught in the rain and would do anything to be standing in it right now.”

As if on cue, the Brown dragon’s head pops out from seemingly nowhere below the balcony, his orange eyes blinking up at you in triumph. “You were saying?”

You stare down at him for a moment before groaning. “We really need to start working on shielding.”

Taglist: @wonderstruckbyyou, @jessicalee22likestowrite, @freezerbride18, @ineednewdaggers

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[intromortal]

⟢ like it when i call you daddy? ⸝⸝⸝ yang jungwon

oops! your boyfriend finds out you have a raging daddy kink. but he's more than happy to indulge you

this work contains ⋆ smut ⋆ minors do not interact ⋆ daddy kink duh ⋆ shy reader ⋆ menace jungwon ⋆ fingering ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ creampie ⋆ slight edging ⋆ praise ⋆ brief cockwarming

length ⋆ drabble ⸻ 3.5k words

✷ NIA — barely proofread pls it's 2 am bear with me. i was supposed to finish this yesterday but then someone tried to break into my apartment. hope your weekend was better than mine!

Uh oh. You know that look.

The look Jungwon gives you only when you're in real deep shit, the one that tells you he's not letting you off the hook or negotiating with you no matter what.

It's almost mean in the way only bright and soft eyes can be, like they're not meant to shape into anything that isn't cutesy. It's like he's scrutinizing your eyes as if they were little windows to your soul, no curtains blocking the light shining in. It's a look you've come to assume means 'danger ahead! Tread carefully.'

Mostly because if there's anything Jungwon hates, it has to be you hiding stuff from him. Whether it's silly things like the paper cut you got at work the day before, or how your tires need to be changed—you can handle that yourself just alright, but Jungwon wants to do it all for you—or the bigger, scarier stuff like doubt poking your chest when you spiral thinking about your future, unsure of what your place in the world is supposed to be, or if you have one at all. He hates it all. He wants you to rely on him, open up both your mind and heart to let him in. It's not a matter of needing him, Jungwon knows you're more than capable of doing it all yourself, you've done just that your entire life.

But that's all the more reason to rely on him if you ask him.

He wants to be your rock, your superhero in spandex like the ones you always make fun of when it's a Friday night and older Marvel movies are all that's playing on TV—he thinks being made fun of is okay as long as you're the one laughing. He wants to be your safe haven. A place where you walk in and feel the heaviness dissolve off your shoulders. He wants to be your home.

You shouldn't have to worry about anything because you've worried yourself sick over other people all your life, he needs to be your break.

Jungwon is your judgment free zone, he knows all your deepest secrets, no matter how embarrassing. He checks for spots you can't quite reach when you think something is off with your body—and he tells you that no, it's not a terminal illness, you'll be fine—no matter how disgusting. He has seen you dazed, hair messy and eyeliner somehow down to your cheeks after a night out. Even washed your face for you when you couldn't and patiently did your skincare because he knew you would complain about your skin feeling dry in the morning otherwise. He has made love to you in every way, in every position, no matter how unflattering. And he still loves you, still thinks you're the most gorgeous being walking on the sun dried tufts of grass that make up Earth. Though if you ask him, the sun is all the way down here and not up in the sky anymore, the one there is just a less impressive copy.

So when you keep things from him, it stings extra.

You lay underneath him, eyes as big as a fawn, staring right up into his scrutinizing gaze. And he's giving you that look, so you might as well start praying up to anyone who will listen.

"Oh? You like that?" Jungwon's hand slides under your shirt, slowly caressing the skin it was just tickling mercilessly moments ago. "Now, that's new. How come you didn't let me in your little secret until now, mhh?"

You don't really have a top 5 worst ways in which your boyfriend could find out you have an embarrassing, raging daddy kink, but if you had one, you imagine 'whimpering after he jokingly says 'be still and good for daddy' while play fighting' would be up there at the top.

"I… uhm. I don't….?" It sounds more like a question than anything else, and the wicked grin overtaking Jungwon's face only makes you want to shrink back into the mattress further.

He looks to the side, shaking his head slightly as his tongue pokes out between his teeth. The corners of his mouth are upturned, but it's not warm or playful like his smile usually is—it doesn't make the sides of his eyes crinkle like you love.

If keeping things from him is a no-go, outright lying might be ten times worse.

So, you bargain. "It's just… you know. Took me by surprise. You don't seem the type of—"

Your sentence is interrupted by a squeal of surprise as he grabs your thigh and drags you down the bed, crawling over you possessively. He reaches for your arm, bringing it to his lips so he can trail his way down with soft kisses, so unlike the energy emanating from him. He kisses your palm sweetly, it makes your head spin like you've been thrown off your balance. "I'm not the type to?"

He's encouraging you to finish your thought, but you have half the idea that by doing that, you'll only dig your grave further, so you choose silence.

"That's what I thought." Jungwon bends down, gaze still boring into your eyes and mouth hovering so close to yours you can feel the words before you can hear them. "I'm the type to do everything for you. I thought you knew by now."

Of course, you do. He makes it pretty clear every waking hour of the day. But the little title that has heat rushing right to your cheeks just thinking about it, is something you never found the courage to be open about, even to Jungwon. As silly as it sounds, the thought of giving someone else so much power, complete control over you feels impossible, even when it's what your deepest and most hidden self craves most.

"I know. It just felt silly and—oh."

"Keep talking. Don't let me stop you." Jungwon noses the skin of your neck, taking in your scent like he might forget it if he doesn't, like it's the last chance he has to do so. Jungwon's love is often like this, given to you in subtle but passionate gestures, ones he bestows onto you as if he might bleed out if he doesn't.

Your insides stir, heavy and hot in your lower stomach and the air almost feels too thick to breathe in, but you push through. Even when Jungwon's hand slides lower and lower until it reaches your shorts—if you can even call them that. "I thought, what if you don't like it. What if it makes me seem weird."

"I like what you like." You visibly shiver when he speaks into your ear, the warmth of his breath ticklish. He gently nibs the shell of your ear.

"But what if—"

"No what ifs, pretty girl. What you want, I give you. What you dream of, I give you." He looks down at you, his elbow bent to support his head. "Your deepest fantasies, I fulfill. Is that clear?"

You nod, looking at him with such sincerity and vulnerability in your eyes he almost coos at the sight.

"Good girl." Jungwon kisses your temple, and you don't know if it's the action itself or the praise, or maybe a little bit of both, but your muscles are more relaxed and your chest feels all fuzzy. The hand playing with the waistband of your shorts finally slides to cup your heat through your panties, his dainty but long fingers molding perfectly to your mound. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, gently smiling into the little nibbles he teases your skin with. They're hardly painful, his teeth not leaving marks behind. Not that they need to, your form quivering underneath his body is already enough. "Let daddy take care of his baby, yeah?"

You cover your face with your hands, embarrassed by the effects his words have on you. It only spurs Jungwon further though, because soon his hand is pulling your completely soaked panties to the side, slowly teasing your folds with his digits. "You're all shy, but she's so happy to see me." He smiles against your cheek, then dips down to litter your neck in open mouthed kisses, happily sighing when you adjust yourself to give him easier access.

"You're so lame," you say from behind your hand still covering your face.

"Oh baby, don't be jealous. You're both my princesses." Jungwon finally dips his fingers lower, teasing your dripping hole slowly with just the tips. He collects the wetness seeping out of you and spreads it all over your pussy, not even trying to dull the obscene sounds his action make. "You're so fucking wet, it's like she's talking back to me," he slurs his words, quiet as to not interrupt the ones coming from below. "And you wanted to deprive me of this?"

He keeps playing with you, relishing in the little sounds both you and your pussy make. His fingers move slowly, deliberately avoiding your clit.

"Jungwon, please," you whine, but the way his lips shape into a grin you can quite literally feel against your neck tells you he wants something from you first. And you have an idea of what it is.

"Wrong name, try again."

Of course.

You're not ready to give in yet though, so you decide to push his buttons for a little longer. "Please?"

The last thing you hear before Jungwon yanks his hand out of your shorts, much to your despair, is a venomous tch that has you seriously reconsider your previous actions. You know him well, so you know if you want to come you're gonna have to abide by his rules. Still, that doesn't stop embarrassment from growing in your stomach more, and more.

His movements are a lot less careful, making quick work of his fitted shirt and sweats, his boxers coming right off with them. Maybe it's the sight of his leaking cock, standing tall and angry against his lower abdomen, or maybe it's just wishful thinking, but despite your mind knowing better, your heart hopes for a few seconds that maybe, just maybe, you have irritated him past the point of punishment.

Jungwon grabs your shorts and panties, sliding them off your legs with a single movement and discards them somewhere on the hardwood floor of your room. It's fast and unceremonious, but the second his warm hand touches your thigh again you understand you got it all wrong. "That's okay. If you're too shy to call me daddy, I'll just have to fuck the shyness out of you."

You mewl when his hands slide up to the back of your knees, pushing them against your chest. The position is a little awkward, but you believe that's exactly what Jungwon is going for. "Here, hold your own legs up like this. Yeah, exactly like that. See? You can be good when you wanna be."

The stretch in your thighs burns, but it's close to nothing when the realization that Jungwon is making you hold onto your legs so you can't hide your face anymore sets in. Sneaky.

Jungwon, on the other hand, admires you with no reservation. Your cunt is completely exposed, like you've handed it to him on a silver platter, and now you have nowhere to hide. He has half a mind to sink down on his knees in front of the bed and eat you out until you're raw and cannot physically come anymore, but he said he would fuck you and he keeps his promises. Besides, he wants to see your face when you finally give in and call him daddy for the first time.

His knees dip into the mattress, the bed creaking with the weight put on it, but your own heartbeat thumps so loud in your ears you miss it. Jungwon takes his sweet time in reaching you, nothing like the urgency in his movements when he undressed you both. He knows you're waiting with bated breath for his next step, it's just another way to punish you for your disobedience. His hands roam your naked body, and he pushes your legs into your chest further, displeased with your loosening grip on them. He gives you a wordless, pointed look, and your hands immediately hold onto the back of your thighs harder.

"Pretty," Jungwon compliments your cunt, glistening and dripping right onto the bed sheets. His gaze is carefully scrutinizing every single part of you, but you know better than to try to shy away. "So, so beautiful. I don't know why you wanna hide from daddy."

"I'm not hiding," you whine in protest. Because, really, you're trying your best not to.

He grabs his length, leaking precum at the thick tip. You want to get a better look at it, so you try to take a peek, your back falling on the mattress again after a mere moment of struggle. That earns an airy, honest giggle from Jungwon, and it has your insides fluttering. It's so easy for him to get a reaction out of you, whatever he does makes you all tingly, whether it's because of fondness or lust. And by the quick look you got at his cock he's not much better off, you can't recall a time you have seen him this red and wet, ready to be inside you from just a little kissing and touching. Which is saying a lot, because Jungwon gets flushed quite easily.

The thought makes you feel a little less embarrassed.

Jungwon taps his cock on your clit a few times, each one sending a jolt of pleasure right through your spine. That tiny amount of stimulation is all he gives to your poor neglected bundle of nerves, and he moves his thick tip downwards, rubbing it repeatedly between your folds. All you can do is throw your head back, teeth poking your bottom lip in an attempt to silence the sounds threatening to spill out of your mouth.

He sighs in delight as your juices coat him, mixing with his precum. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, his mouth twisted in a way that makes a dimple pop up on his cheek as he keeps rubbing his cock on your cunt, loving the sight of your nails digging into your thighs to leave tiny half moon indentations. Look at you doing the marking yourself.

"I already take care of you, make sure you're well rested, handle whatever I can to take the load off your shoulders," Jungwon says, never stopping his movements against your heat. "I fuck you so good all the time, take my time with your pretty pussy when I have the chance. Take such good care of you both." He falters for one second, when he accidentally lowers his tip just a smidge too much and ends up rubbing it over your clenching hole. He keeps his cock there, pushing in so slightly you almost miss it, just to take it out and repeat the motions. "I wanna be a part of all your fantasies, would do anything to make you come as hard as I can." He sinks into your heat more this time, just enough to let the stretch of his tip pushing in register for you. "So why won't you be a good girl for daddy and address me by my title? I know you want to."

Jungwon's hips slowly push his cock into you, his mouth open in a silent moan as inch by inch you welcome him into your snug cunt. He's been obsessed with the feeling of that first thrust inside you ever since the first time he slid into you, it's the one thing he always takes his time with, even when he's mad or frustrated and ready to pound into you until you can barely feel your legs anymore.

That's usually what the dangerous look he gave you earlier entails, but this time it's different. His pace doesn't suddenly increase once he fills you to the hilt, reaching so deep inside you, any more would feel like too much. He keeps it slow, but steady, enjoying the way you clench against him, enjoying the view you're giving him with your body bent to accommodate him. He fucks you deep, the position you're in allowing him to reach so deep inside you stars dance across your vision. His pelvis rubs against your clit so deliciously a tiny bit of spit dribbles down your chin from the corner of your mouth. You can feel every inch, every vein, every ridge, and it's mouthwatering.

It's so good, you can feel yourself building up to the peak you want to reach so badly in no time, forgetting why you're in the position you are in the first place.

"Jungwon—" you whine, and he stops his thrusts almost immediately, his deliciously thick length pulling all the way back, his tip the only thing left in you. The loss is unbearable, and you wiggle your hips as if to coax more of his cock back into you again, all to no avail.

"No, no, no baby, who am I?"

You feel like crying, and a single tear does slip out of your eye, gravity making it fall somewhere on the bed. Jungwon doesn't care though, not when you refuse to give him what he wants to hear.

He moves his hips teasingly, as if to bait you to give in, he fucks you gently with just the tip, over and over again, careful to not give you too much. "C'mon baby, I know you can do it."

You clench around his tip, silently begging for more. More that will never come if you don't give in, and you know it. It's on the tip of your tongue, and you want to give in so badly.

So you do. "Please, daddy."

Your voice is low, barely above a whisper, but Jungwon hears you loud and clear, and it's enough for him.

His hips plunge against yours, and you gasp when you feel his thick cum fill you up so unexpectedly. He barely moves, coaxing spur after spur of seed as he empties himself inside of you. Your walls flutter against his sensitive cock, and your hips twitch when he suddenly moves his thumb over your puffy clit, rubbing rough circles on it while he keeps fucking his own cum inside you.

"Good girl, milking me dry like this, yeah baby, keep doing that." His voice is rough and thick, sending pleasure right to your belly. You feel so full, so warm, as his movements never falter, even when his cock is raw from overstimulation.

"Daddy, 'am close."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby. Coming again, need you to come too." Even more cum fills you up at the name, and when Jungwon buries himself all the way in, thumb still circling your clit, and presses down with his other hand right on the bulge on your tummy, searing white blindness hits you for a moment as you come undone around him. His moans sound beautiful as you rhythmically clench around his thickness in your ecstasy, his thumb still working you through your orgasm.

It keeps going for longer than it ever has, your toes bent as if it's the only thing keeping you grounded while waves of pleasure keep crashing through you.

Jungwon slows down, but never pulls out of you completely, keeping his cum plugged inside of you. You're not holding onto your legs anymore, and his body gives in on top of you with one last teasing thrust, crushing you a little with his weight.

"Hey," you protest, still in the process of catching your breath.

"Mhh." He nuzzles his forehead against yours, uncaring for the sweat sticking you together. "That was good."

You giggle, a light feeling washing over you, spreading from your chest to your limbs in soothing waves. "Yeah, I think you liked me calling you daddy a little too much."

You feel lightheaded, in a good way. And in Jungwon's arms, you know you're as safe as you could ever be. It fills your heart with longing, even if he's right there with you.

Jungwon wraps his arms around you, spinning you both around on the messy bed sheets, quickly switching up your positions so you're on top of him, your head resting right on his chest.

His heartbeat, slowly going back to being steady, gently lulls you to sleep, even when the sun outside shines in through your window and casts the shadows of the windowsill plants over the tangled mess your and Jungwon's legs make up. He kisses your forehead once, then again, slowly aligning his softening cock to slide back into you. "Maybe. You should've done that sooner."

[kaisentine]

“bro why are you changing in front of me?”

“am i not allowed to change clothes?”

and that basically sums up your whole friendship with michael kaiser. is he annoying? yes. is he insufferable? yup. does he have a bad temper? mhm. is he judgmental? obviously. is he an aggressive, impulsive, and arrogant wreck? absolutely.

“not in front of me!” you shout before covering your eyes with your hands and turning around to face the wall. “why? do you not like it?” he asks as if he was going to do anything about it. “friends don’t just change in the same room . . .” you whisper, taking your hands off of your face but refusing to turn back. “suit yourself.” he shrugs.

why was he speaking like you wanted to watch!? jeez this man was crazy.

the way the word friend rolls off your tongue makes him angry. do you truly only see him in that manner? if so, how come? he’s been so obvious to you. even going as far as holding his tongue around you—keeping his pride down the drain. you don’t know the extent of his love, neither does he know how far his love can go.

perhaps he’s been living in his own world and maybe you’ll never know.

sticky note. this is me coping btw ( not really ) . . . kaiser come home the kids miss you. unrelated but pls keep me sick plsplspls i don’t want to go to school

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake’s Unhinged Power Move (ft. Marriage, Ra’s al Ghul, and an Uncomfortable Batfamily)

No one really understood how it started. One moment, Tim Drake was Red Robin—tired, overworked, and fueled by caffeine. The next, he was dropping a bombshell in the middle of a routine debrief:

“Oh, by the way, I married Ra’s al Ghul.”

The room froze.

Dick’s dumbbell hit the floor. Jason choked on his beer. Damian’s sword slipped from his hand. Bruce, staring at Tim like he’d grown a second head, barely managed a strangled, “Tim. What did you do?”

Tim took a sip of his coffee, utterly unfazed. “It’s a power move.”

Jason, wheezing with laughter: “Oh my god. You married Ra’s out of spite? Replacement, I’ve never been prouder.”

Tim smirked. “Something like that.”

-----------

It wasn’t really spite.

Ra’s had been obsessed with him for years. The offers of succession, the constant attempts to lure him to the League—it was never-ending. Tim was tired. Tired of being hunted, tired of the games. So, one day, he called Ra’s’ bluff. If Ra’s wanted him so badly, he’d have to deal with all that came with it. Including Tim’s unrelenting need for control.

Ra’s agreed.

And just like that, Tim Drake became the most terrifying in-law the batfamily had ever seen.

-----------

Talia didn’t know what to think at first.

She’d seen it all before—people manipulated by Ra’s, twisted into tools for his will. But Tim? He didn’t play by those rules. He sat at Ra’s’ desk, sifting through League reports like they were Gotham case files. He didn’t bark orders; he made suggestions. And then, the soup happened.

Talia returned from a mission, bruised and exhausted. Tim, barely looking up from his paperwork, said, “Sit. You’re hurt.”

She scoffed. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity. It’s soup.”

Talia stared. “Why?”

Tim shrugged. “You looked like you needed it.”

It became a routine. She’d return from missions, and Tim would be there. Not with judgment. Not with manipulation. Just quiet support. He listened. He offered advice. He treated her like a person, not a pawn.

Somehow, they started having regular bonding time. Shopping trips. Quiet conversations on the balcony. Tim became a person Talia could trust—a concept she hadn’t believed possible.

-----------

Damian was losing his mind.

“Drake!” he hissed, cornering Tim in the Batcave. “You’ve… corrupted my mother!”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Corrupted? She’s thriving.”

“She smiles at you!”

“I’m very charming.”

Damian’s finger trembled as he pointed. “This makes you… my grandmother.”

Tim smirked. “Respect your elders, grandson.”

“I REFUSE!”

-----------

Bruce was spiraling.

“Tim, this is dangerous.”

“Relax,” Tim replied, sipping his coffee. “I’ve got it under control.”

“You married one of our greatest enemies!”

“Think of it as an undercover op,” Tim said, voice calm and unyielding. “I’m playing the long game.”

Jason, from the sidelines, grinned. “He’s playing 4D chess, and you’re still on checkers.”

-----------

The Real Chaos?

Tim didn’t marry Ra’s to make him happy. Hell no. If anything, it made Tim sick to his stomach knowing Ra’s was smug about it. But if putting up with Ra’s al Ghul meant protecting Talia, stabilizing the League, and giving Damian a family that didn’t break apart at the seams?

He’d endure.

Because Talia was healing. Damian’s mother was smiling. And Ra’s… well, Ra’s thought he’d won.

But the real winner? Tim Drake.

Gotham’s most unhinged vigilante had just become the League of Assassins’ terrifying step-parent. And honestly? It suited him.

-----------

Damian, whispering to Alfred: “I need… therapy.” Alfred: “We all do, Master Damian. We all do.”

[sweetinsaniiity]

Don't Lean On Me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But alas. Such is human nature.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You groaned. "Seriously!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, totally not creepy. 

"Good morning, Y/N."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes," they both answered in unison.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then what's his name?"

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

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

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

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

"N-Niccolo?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kang Yeosang.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Good?” Yeosang raised his brow tentatively.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh? What did I say, then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”That’s comforting,” you remarked sarcastically. 

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

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

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

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

“Mingi dances?” Jongho asked in surprise. 

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

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

“Hey, Jjong?”

“Here,” the latter answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who were you to say no to that? 

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

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

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

”I see you met Nabi.”

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

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

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

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

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

”That’s a good girl,” he whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just water,” you replied.

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” you whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” you conceded, nodding towards him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were expecting him to just take the remote control away from you, but you were rendered speechless when he pulled your arm and guided you in front of him. He positioned himself comfortably behind you, his hand grabbing onto yours as he did, indeed, help you with the drone.

”The trick is to be gentle with this button,” he murmured, breath tickling the shell of your ear, his fingers guiding yours on said button.

You were surprised you didn’t disintegrate on the spot. What could have, however, was when you tried to teach Yeosang how to cook the next time. 

You didn’t start out being a good cook, but living with Jongho and Yunho taught you over the years. Yunho could burn water and Jongho always spent an exorbitant amount of money on take-outs that didn’t even offer an ounce of health in them.

“You’re literally doing well,” you cheered him on as he tried to toss the ingredients for the pasta dish you were guiding him to make for lunch. “It’s easy, isn’t it?”

”Sure,” he sneered, startling himself when the oil in the pan began to crackle. “If you’re trying to get food poisoning, it is.”

”Stop setting yourself up for failure,” you rolled your eyes. You nudged a bottle towards him, sliding it against the counter for him to take. “Here, wine. Take it.”

You snorted at the wild and confused look on his face as he tried to sauté some shrimp. “I don’t drink,” he sputtered out.

It was moments like these that prevent you from regretting how bad you two started from before. If you knew you’d always end up here, you would do it all over again without any hesitation. You laughed, grabbing onto his shoulders for support. That was another thing, skinship wasn’t lost on the both of you now.

”No, dummy,” you laughed. “It’s for the pasta. Pour a little to deglaze the pan, it’s good for flavour.”

He still looked confused, but ,nonetheless, still grabbed the bottle. It shouldn’t be difficult, right?

“W-Wait, Yeosang, do it slowly, wait—-“

But it was too late. He had managed to pour half of its content straight onto the pan, causing blue fire to rise up and almost hit both of you in the face. 

“The fuck was that? Was that normal?” Yeosang hissed, tentatively stepping back from the flames.

”Well, no, you were supposed to do it slowly—-”

”Then why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

”Because it was common sense!”

It became a routine, minus the drones - you were definitely going to break them one way or another. It was so easy to fall for this man, but it was also so easy to get your heart broken by the same man.

He even lets you take Nabi out for a walk when he’d get too tired to do so. You took that task proudly and quite seriously.

”Wouldn’t want your dad laying it out on me now,” you’d giggle while giving Nabi the ear rubs you knew she loved.

You get it, though. Nabi was one energetic pup, and on one particular day where she wore you out, you didn’t realize that you’d fallen asleep on the couch, not that Yeosang minded. You knew that he didn’t mind.

Your eyes started to flutter awake, still dazed from that afternoon nap that you took, but then you realized what actually woke you up.

Everything came to you bit by bit. They say that the first thing to come and leave both in life and death was the sense of touch. It was soft, you noticed. And warm. You were laying on soft, pillowy thighs. Dazed as you were, you weren’t an all-rounder idiot; you knew it was Yeosang’s. You smile to yourself, you knew you didn’t fall asleep on his lap earlier.

But you were completely done for when you felt a hand, fingers to be specific, run slowly through your hair over and over again. You wanted to groan in contentment, no wonder Nabi likes rubs.

What truly woke you up, however, was his voice. Shivers traveled your arms all the way to your neck, you didn’t even need to strain your ears; Yeosang was singing. It was the song you’d both decided to perform, but you’d actually never heard him try and sing it before. 

It waa supposed to be a jolly tune, something awe-inspiring, but when it came from him, it sounded almost melancholic akin to a lullaby meant to reminisce rather than fill your heart with merry and joy.

He stopped, so did his fingers. “I know you’re awake,” he mumbled.

You pouted, wanting to hear more. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you rose up from his lap, your body protesting from the lack of his warmth, voice hoarse from the prolonged unuse. “How long have I been sleeping on your lap?”

He stared at you like he always did, and you wanted to know why because its intensity was strong, but it was impossible to know without asking, because in truth, you were scared to find out.

“You should just stay for the night,” he mumbled, sitting straight up, his form rigid. “I have a guest room upstairs, and frankly, I feel uncomfortable letting you drive out this late.”

Looking around, it wasn’t difficult to deduce that it was well late into the night even though your mind wasn’t all there yet. You gulped, the offer was too tempting to not consider, but you had to go. You just knew that you weren’t going to sleep properly if you stayed.

Yeosang sighed deeply, standing up straight to face you. “Let me walk you to your car, then.”

You blushed in embarrassment. He must’ve seen the hesitation on your face. “O-Oh, there’s really no need—-”

”Let me walk you to your car, at least,” he repeated, one brow arched, his voice firmer and more resolute. It left you no room for any arguments. “Here.”

A startled ‘oof’ leaves your lips when the hoodie that he threw at you hits you square in the face. He rolled his eyes dramatically when you stared at it as if it were an abomination. He snatched it back harshly.

”God, it’s like taking care of a fucking child with you. Raise your arms,” he clicked his tongue, putting his hoodie on for you, looping your arms carefully in. 

If asking to stay the night wasn’t intimate enough for you, this definitely was. When he was done, he held your hand and started guiding you outside. It would have been funny, since it looked like a parent leading their unruly child, if you didn’t feel like you were going to combust on the spot.

It felt like you were on autopilot. Even when you sat in your car, your muscles felt so rigid and robotic. When he leaned down from the outside, his head peeking at you by the window, his toned arms hanging and leaning on the roof. “Drive safe, yeah?”

”W-what about this?”

You bunched up the hoodie in an attempt to take it off, but he stopped you. “Return it next time,” he mumbled.

You nodded, and he returned it with a curt one, patting the roof of your car before he turned around and jogged back inside. You felt slightly bad, he did give you his hoodie, after all, and he only had a tank top on.

You were completely out of it when you drove home, to the point that you reached your apartment without even realizing it. A silent scream threatens to escape your mouth as you bumped your forehead on the steering wheel, there was a faint blush on your cheeks at everything that happened.

You slept on your crush’s lap, and you even got to wear his hoodie. 

You carefully closed your bedroom door so as not to disturb Jongho and Yunho, who you knew were both sleeping since it was late, and as if it was timed, your phone vibrated in your pockets. You didn’t need to look at the ID to know who it was.

“Did you get home safely?” Yeosang’s comforting voice floods your ears, effectively soothing you and making you smile.

“Mhhm,” you hummed exhaustedly, taking your pants off, but not the hoodie, and plopping down unceremoniously on your bed. “You’re worried about me, the world must be ending soon.”

He mumbled a curse so crass, it made you giggle under your breath. “If you die on the way back, who would be my source of entertainment?” Yeosang deadpanned. A shuffling sound on his end tells you that he’s also laying down on his bed. “I’ll be bored.”

“Wow. Good to know I’m nothing but your source of fun,” you scoffed.

“What can I say? Your misery feeds my fun,” he flatly said. There was a pause on the line before a small sigh sounded. “Princess?”

That nickname will always make your heart sing no matter how much time passes. You hummed in response. “Hmm?”

“Would you like to come over again tomorrow? Forget about the project for a while, I just want to watch a movie with you,” he murmured.

Your heart warmed, you’ve never heard him sound like this before. You’ve made up your mind before he even finished talking. “Only if you let me choose the movie,” you grinned.

”Deal,” he laughed. “I’ll pick you up in the afternoon, sounds good?”

“Sounds good,” you affirmed, kicking your feet up in the air repeatedly. You reckon you resembled a flopping fish out of water right now, but you could care less. You had to bite onto your fist to stop yourself from screaming at the top of your lungs.

He said goodnight and was about to hang up, when you stopped him. “Yeosang.”

He hummed, clearly off guard at the sound of his name. “You have a beautiful voice,” you whispered, referring to his singing when you woke up from your nap. “You would have been a fantastic idol.”

He chuckled. “Good night, princess.”

You hugged your phone close to your chest, a grin stretching out from your lips so wide, your mouth was starting to ache a bit, but the high and ecstasy wasn’t going to go down easily. 

Tonight, sleep came easily to you. Yeosang’s hoodie comforted you, wrapped you in the solace you didn’t know you were missing. His scent gave you the calm that you didn’t mind getting off of.

And tomorrow couldn’t have come any faster. You didn’t tell Jongho and Yunho what you were going to do - the teasing would only get worse from then on - but they did give you odd looks here and there.

“Nice hoodie,” Jongho commented out of the blue while you were waiting for Yeosang. He squints his eyes. “It looks familiar, though. Where’d you buy it?”

“I didn’t buy it,” you replied cryptically, earning you a side-glance from Yunho this time.

He was about to say something when you heard a car engine pull up directly in front  of your apartment. The three of you lived on the first floor, so that perk was there. You jumped up excitedly, hastily picking up your purse before dashing out.

”I’ll see you guys later—-” you tried to say before you got pulled back, a hand tugging your arm backwards.

”Hold the hell on, you have a date?” Yunho blurted out, a flabbergasted look on his face present. “Why am I finding this out just now?”

He gives Jongho a look, and the latter’s eyes narrow even further. Jongho’s brow raises before he stalks towards the door. “Let me size up this fucker,” he sneers, cracking his knuckles loudly.

You wiggled your arm free from Yunho to pull Jongho away from the door so you could get out. Your best friends were protective like that. 

“Get back here,” Jongho called out, opening the door wide so he could chase you down. “You can’t just—-wait.”

You were confused, Jongho’s intimidating aura slowly slips out and gives way to confusion all the way to realization. He blanched, face slightly pale as he stared at the car parked just a couple of metres away from where we stood. 

The car window was already open, and Yeosang was already staring at Jongho. He nods once before closing it once again.

“I should have known,” he mumbled, voice dejected before giving you a tight smile. “Call when you need anything.”

He quickly went inside, followed by Yunho who whispered to you the same thing. “Have fun,” he waved before he closed the door.

Yeosang didn't say anything as you both drove away. It wasn’t an awkward type of silence, but you didn’t have the need to fill it. You wanted to give him some space, the way he gripped the steering wheel repeatedly told you everything you needed to know.

Instead, you spent the entire time chastising yourself because your eyes kept traveling at his hands and his face from your peripheral vision. You chose to look out the window, his veiny arms were distracting you a little too much.

He still had the mask on his face but honestly, you didn’t care less anymore. You couldn’t help but also stare at the way he was dressed. He was in casual wear, nothing special, but the way it emphasized his toned chest yet tiny waist got you sweating even though it was quite cool inside the luxurious car he was driving.

“There’s a drive through nearby. I want to get coffee,” he finally spoke. The softness in his voice made your heart pound, it boosted the already intimate setting of being in a car with him.

”Are you going to let me pay for us?” You asked rhetorically.

”Of course,” he shrugged, and you were about to celebrate until he continued. “Of course not.”

You rolled your eyes, an exasperated groan of frustration leaving your lips. The sound makes Yeosang laugh out loud, and he was still laughing even when the drive through speaker crackled on. Cute. 

This was dangerous. You stared at him as he spoke, his deep voice rumbling. It wasn’t fair that his side profile looked this ethereal, but it also wasn’t fair that your heart was slowly giving in to its demands little by little. He didn’t even need to ask what you wanted, he just knew what you needed.

 “Thank you,” you murmured in gratitude when he handed you your iced latte. You grit your teeth when your hands brushed with his as you tried to grab the cup.

The same hand lands gently on your thigh. You thought it was just him being him and he was absentmindedly doing it, but when the searing heat from his palms didn’t relinquish any relief, you couldn’t help but smirk to hide the growing tingle in between your thighs.

”Getting comfortable there,” you said, trying very, very hard not to look at his veiny, masculine hands. It turned you on to no end.

”Does it bother you?” Yeosang asked, not bothering to look at you since he was actually driving. You gulped, the sight of him driving with one hand increased the tingling sensation down there.

“No,” you lied. “Not at all.”

He hummed, giving your thigh a soft squeeze before he resorted to just drawing random lines on it. He made a small sound of surprise. “You work out?”

You blinked repeatedly, not really understanding what he was saying at first. “What? O-Oh, I used to do gymnastics in high school,” you revealed. The activity has made your thighs and legs toned even though you haven’t done heavy routines in a while.

”Used to? How come?”

“Had a nasty concussion. Plus, college was keeping me busy, anyway.”

“Ah,” he acknowledged with a small smirk. “I knew you hit your head somewhere along the line—-”

You playfully pushed his hand away from your thigh. “You ass.”

He laughed, his deep voice rumbling through the small space of the car, and knocking into your heart, as he pulled in in the familiar section of his apartment that led to the parking lot. 

The appreciation you had for this man knew no bounds. During the walk back to his penthouse, no words needed to be said. This was how it was with him, and you didn’t mind at all. The silence was already telling enough.

“Do you like the hoodie?” Yeosang asked the moment he closed the door behind him. 

“I do,” you admitted, grinning as you rubbed Nabi’s beautiful fur, your fingers trailing to the spot behind her ears you knew brought her joy. “Hey, girl.”

”I see,” he murmured, passing you, but not before patting Nabi’s head, and walked towards the staircase. “Follow me,” he beckoned you over with a small wave of his hand.

”Where to?” You asked, following him anyway, albeit reluctantly. 

As you climbed the stairs, something you’ve never done before, let alone go near since you didn’t want to just invade Yeosang’s privacy, especially since you knew that his personal bedroom was located on the second floor of the penthouse.

You will never get used to how simply gorgeous his space was. If you thought that the first floor where his living room was located was jaw-dropping, the second floor was something out-of-this-world. You were able to see the grand chandelier even closer in this section of the penthouse.

Multiple paintings you knew weren’t just ordinary art hung around the walls, which were made out of opulent marble, the swirls of black and white giving the space an elegance you knew cannot just be replicated and duplicated just because.

”Wow,” you whispered, not able to stop yourself in awe.

”Like what you see?” Yeosang asked, his hand absentmindedly trailing over the walls as you both still walked on, you just followed him wherever he took you.

It didn’t take long, and once again, you were in for a wild ride. Soon, the overall theme of the second floor had changed from something bright, to something just a bit darker. The swirled marble of the walls gave way to something pure black, and that included all the paintings, vase, and furniture that surrounded the area. 

“Is this your room? Wow,” you remarked like a little kid in a candy store.

”No,” he shook his head, opening the door to one of the rooms. “This is just a spare bedroom, really. Nobody’s ever used it, so I just store all my old stuff in here.”

You frowned at him. “Nobody? Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

You weren’t lying when you said that. You truly found it hard to believe that he has never brought anybody in, whether it be just a couple of close friends, or even a past fling or some hookups. The last sting of thoughts brought on a horrible churning that started deep in your gut area.

”Well, considering that you were the first one I’ve ever willingly brought here, I’d say it’s not really difficult to comprehend,” he shrugged. “My, uhm, father used to own this before he bought another unit. He would use it for his business.”

You stayed silent, following him inside the bedroom, not anymore surprised to find a large theater setup occupying most of the space. This was another instance of him slowly giving you bits and pieces of his life willingly, and you wanted so badly to ask more about what his family business was, but you didn’t. You didn’t miss the way his eyes faltered when he mentioned it.

“You’re telling me you’ve never had, I don’t know,” you bit your lip. “Flings, perhaps?”

”Of course I did,” he raised an offended brow. “I’m not a eunuch, and not to brag, but I’m not that bad looking.”

You blushed. Yeosang’s part down there was the last thing you’d ever want to think about.

“But I’ve never brought them here,” he continued cryptically, his voice not leaving you any thoughts of questioning him, so you decided to let it slide. “Anyway, I’m going to get the snacks downstairs, why don’t you pick a movie?”

You nodded, getting to your feet and caught the remote that he had thrown your way with surprising reflexes. “What movies are you into?”

“I don’t give a shit, really,” he mumbled, walking away to your devices, and for once, you were glad he was walking away. The blush on your cheeks would just never leave. 

You took this opportunity to try and calm yourself as much as you possibly could. Your corrupted brain was pushing this as a possible date between you and Yeosang, and luckily, the sentient part of it kept pushing that thought back, but it was getting more and more difficult to do so. How could you not? You were in the comfort of his home, in one of his rooms, and in a place where he’s never brought anyone before. Or so he says.

You weren't surprised to find a sizable selection for the movies. He had a state-of-the-art setup, you’d be pretty surprised if he didn’t. He told you to pick whatever you liked, but you weren’t the insensitive type, you wanted him to have a say in it, too.

You were about to sit down and just wait for him to come back when your foot had accidentally gotten caught on something when you tried to sit on the bed. You tried to see what it was and your brows lifted in surprise when you realized that you had tripped on a small box.

It was conspicuously tucked away underneath the bed, but the edge of it was slightly jutted out. You didn’t think much of it, you figured that Yeosang had stored other things in here. Maybe there were other movie selections that he’d kept in here.

So when you grabbed the box and opened it, you just simply weren’t expecting what you’d find. You were gravely mistaken, there were no movies in there. You wanted to hit yourself, of course there wouldn’t be, DVDs were a thing of the past!

There was a piece of paper on top of everything. You inspected it carefully, and you realized that there was a name in it. A girl’s name. You frowned, that was the name of the girl who was picked last for the project.

You gasped, dropping the piece of paper in realization. Professor Choi did not accidentally put your name twice in that box.

You rummaged more to see what was in the box. Instead, there were photos - multiple of them. Your eyes weren’t completely taking everything in, but there were a myriad of photographs that ranged from professionally printed ones all the way to the wallet-sized polaroid prints. 

You bit your lip. You really shouldn’t be doing this, you were invading Yeosang’s privacy, and whether he said it or not, you knew that he appreciated that you didn’t pry on the things he wasn’t ready to tell you. 

You wanted badly to know more about Yeosang, but you knew this wasn’t the way to go about it. The box needed to go, and it was about to, but then, you spotted a particular photo that got your attention. You glanced at the door, and with a shaky hand, you took that photo to stare at it closer.

The lump in your throat was making it difficult for you to breathe, you were nervous, but there was no going back from this.  That wasn’t all, however, it was mostly the photo in your hand.

There were two people in the photo you were holding, one of which you’ve never seen before. He was quite handsome, you noted. He had the biggest grin on his face that made him look so young, you could barely see his face, that’s how wide he was smiling. Had the situation been different, you would have been fascinated by how much he resembled a fox.

And then, there was Yeosang. In an unfortunate coincidence, you picked up a photo where he was still covering half of his face, but this time, it wasn’t by a mask, it was his hands. This photo must have been taken mid-laughter by somebody else.

You’ve never seen him this happy before. His eyes were also smiling, but one thing that absolutely got you was that when you looked closer, you were pleasantly surprised to find a small birthmark on the side of his face. You realized that he must’ve been covering it lately with makeup.

When you turned the photo around, there was a name in there. Jung Wooyoung. And there was a note in there too, one that you knew to be Yeosang’s handwriting.

There were only four words written on it - I am so sorry.

You swallowed, clearly, you weren’t supposed to see this. You suddenly remembered Jongho’s words from before - something had happened that made him the way he was now.

Shame crept in from the bottom of your heart, you had to pretend that you didn’t see any of this, you had to put the box back the way you found it and forget that you ever saw that picture. But it was too late.

”What the fuck are you doing?”

You gasped, jumping up from where you were seated down, causing the box to fall from your lap, exposing what you were doing, which was basically snooping in on his privacy against his will and without his permission.

The snacks he was carrying was long forgotten on the floor, for he must’ve dropped it after seeing you look through the photos. 

You were devastated, but he looked even more devastated as he stood from where he was standing, staring at you with the most disappointed eyes. That was the worst part - he didn’t seem angry, not at all. He looked absolutely broken, and it was your fault.

“Y-Yeosang,” you called out, voice wavering as you felt your tears slowly forming in your eyes. “I c-can explain, please—-”

He looked down at the floor, completely avoiding eye contact with you. Only his fists were moving, they were actively shaking. He had a lump in his throat that he gulped in, albeit with difficulty.

”How could you do this to me?” Yeosang questioned, his voice laced with an unmistakable hint of pain and hurt. He lifted his head, and  heart felt like it was getting pulled out of your chest. “How could you?”

You tried walking towards, the photos on the floor long forgotten, but he raised a palm to stop you. “Yeosang,” you called out once more, your desperation seeping out from you.

”I thought you were different,” he chuckled bitterly. He pressed the heel of his palms on his eyes as if he was trying to soothe an oncoming migraine. “But it turns out, you were the worst of them all.”

Your lips quivered, of all the things he had said to you, the things he had insulted you with, this one statement stung the most, mainly because you knew it to be true. You shook your head desperately. “You know it’s not like that,” you cried, ashamed because you didn’t want to lose him, not like this. “I am so, so sorry, Yeosang, please forgive me, I know I was wrong, please.”

“Get the fuck out of my house, Y/N,” he commanded venomously, pointing a shaking finger on the direction away from the room. He exhaled a shaky breath. “I never want to see you again.”

That was when your tears started to fall from your eyes. “Don’t say that,” you sobbed. “P-Please don’t say that—“

”Y/N, you know what hurts the most right now?” Yeosang spat out, running a hand on his hair in frustration. “I could handle the daily insults I hear at campus every single day. That’s fine, I don’t owe anyone an explanation, they can say whatever they want.”

”But you,” he gritted his teeth. “I trusted you, more than I’ve ever come to trust myself,” he took a shaky breath in. “I let you in. The thing that hurts me the most is that I’ve come to care for you. I care about you, Y/N. Do you have any idea how much I want to slap myself right now?”

“You’re right, I am so sorry,” your entire body was shaking, your legs almost threatening to give out. “I’m so sorry, Yeosang, please—-”

“You made me look like an idiot,” he declared. “Get out. Please. I won’t tell you again.”

He turned around to walk away, but your impulses took action by suddenly running forward to give Yeosang a hug from behind. He freezes from the action, but all that did was make you hug him tighter.

”Please, don’t push me away, not like this,” your tears were free-falling, soaking his shirt. “I’m begging you, please.”

“Goddamn it, you have no right to do this right now,” he snapped, grabbing your hand to pry it away from himself before grabbing you by the arm and callously dragging you downstairs.

”Yeosang, stop it, stop—-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he hissed, grabbing onto your arm tighter, so tight you were sure he’d leave marks on it hours from now, dragging you roughly, not caring if you stumbled and tripped along the way.

He pulls on his door, giving you one last look before completely pushing you out so harshly, you fell on the floor of the elevator that will lead you out. You looked up at him, fat tears still rolling down your eyes, and he looked straight at you without any emotion as he pressed down the button.

It still didn’t hit you, not until the elevator doors opened again and you realized that you were back in the parking lot. You walked out with your wobbly legs as far as it could take you before completely breaking down on the nearby wall, slumping down and hugging your legs together as you wailed your heart out.

You shouldn’t have done it. He had every right to be furious with you right now, and there was no repairing this, you had broken his trust and that’s not something that would ever be the same again even if you gained it back. 

The rain from above had begun to mix with your tears and soon enough, you were completely soaked from head to toe. You were so deep in your despair that you didn’t even realize that it had begun raining.

Yeosang’s hoodie did nothing to shield you from the bitter cold. There was only so much your body could take until you had begun shivering, and stupidly, you waited a little thinking that maybe, just maybe, Yeosang would change his mind, especially since you didn’t drive here yourself.

But you knew it was never going to happen. Shaking, you got your phone out and dialed the first number that you saw first. You were sniffling hard, your teeth chattering, sobs broken with hiccups here and there.

“Hello?��� Yunho’s sweet and comforting voice came through the line.

“Y-Yunho,” you uttered in broken sobs. “C-Can you please pick me up? I need help.”

“Y/N? Are you okay? Hang on,” his frantic voice asked. “Tell me the address, do not go anywhere. I’m on my way.”

You tried your best to describe the location to him before hanging up. You were glad it was Yunho, his name was eerily close to Yeosang’s in your contact list.

You didn’t notice that car that pulled up directly in front of you, startling yourself when an arm started to help you up, handling you with such care you wanted to cry all over again.

“I got you, I got you,” he reassured, not caring if he got wet by the rain, let alone get his car soaked when you sat inside.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Yunho tried to ask, driving out of the parking lot as soon as he possibly could.

You could only shake your head, the words you wanted to tell him caught in your throat. A hoarse and grating sound from your mouth escaped, instead, your lungs wheezing for air the moment your tears started to fall again. The only thing Yunho could do was be patient, even though the sight of you sobbing your heart out squeezed his own.

It had to be bad, he thought. You were never one to cry, you and Jongho were similar in that aspect while he was the odd one out since he was very easily touched. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, his foot unconsciously stepping on the gas in an attempt to get back to the apartment faster.

He got out of the car in record speed to pound on the apartment door. An annoyed, but confused, Jongho answered. “Go to my car,” he panted. Jongho was about to ask when Yunho cut him off. “It’s Y/N, it’s really bad, Jjong.”

No words need to be said. Jongho moved past him, not even bothering to put on any shoes, as he ran to his car and practically flung the door open. You felt yourself getting carried, but you didn’t bother to look up, your tears blurring your vision, anyway.

“Bathroom,” Yunho said, sighing in concern as he watched Jongho carry you in his arms. “Do it quickly, she was shivering really bad when I picked her up…”

Jongho laid you down on the tub and began filling it with water so you wouldn’t get sick from the rain while Yunho did his best to tuck your hair out of your face as much as possible and helped you out of the hoodie that was weighing your body down. Deep in your heart, you knew that you owe these two forever.

“What the hell happened?” Jongho questioned, the anger in his voice straining his own throat. “I’m going to strangle him. Did he hurt you?”

You didn’t respond, Jongho had to hold you by the shoulders and shake you a bit. “Did he fucking hurt you?”

“Jongho, cut it out, you’re scaring her,” Yunho hissed, prying the latter’s hands off of you in a rare show of his own anger. He kneeled down, gently holding your eyes with his own. “Y/N? I need you to tell us what happened.”

And so you did. It was difficult on your part because you had to retell everything that happened. The longer you talked, the more pitiful you looked - your voice was almost gone, your cheeks sullen and pale, and your eyes rimmed with reddish and purplish hues due to crying. You could see it in their faces that they agreed with the one thing you told them after - that it was, indeed, your fault. 

“You didn’t know, okay?” Jongho held your head firmly. “You didn’t know. I should’ve emphasized how fucked up he is before you approached him. ”

“Do you know what’s in the box?” Yunho asked curiously.

You hesitated before answering. “A name. Jung Wooyoung.”

Jongho froze, his hands on his head automatically pulling away as if you had burned him. It pretty much confirmed what you already had in mind - the name had something to do with why Yeosang was the way he was.

All the anger he had simmered down faster than you realized. “I see,” Jongho sighed. “That makes a lot of sense now. Wooyoung is very, very important to Yeosang.”

“Still,” Yunho murmured. “How important has this guy gotta be for him to kick her out like an asshole?”

“Very important,” Jongho deadpanned. He heaved a weighted sigh, completely slumping down on the floor beside the tub. “Wooyoung is Yeosang’s half-brother.“

That night, you already knew that you weren’t feeling the best. There was so much information in your head that you wanted to completely forget for now, but how would you do that when even your own body was reminding you about what had happened today?

If Yeosang forgave you one day, you knew you’d still live with the guilt as long as you’re alive.

You had to skip your classes the next day. As you suspected - more like expected - you had raging fever and there was no way you would be able to go anyway, Yunho guarded your door like a hound.

There was a lot of berating on his end, and admittedly, while it was fascinating to see, the sweet Jeong Yunho had disappeared for a bit when you heard an earful from him when you wouldn’t drink your medicine or eat the soup he bought.

But you had to go the day after that. There was only so much leeway Professor Park could give you without you having to take more extracurricular activities after. The project alone was daunting enough.

That was another thing. You had to tell him that this project with Yeosang might be over and that there was a huge possibility that you were opting out now before it even started.

Your phone kept vibrating in between your classes. You knew it was Yunho reminding you to take it easy. Or perhaps, it was Jongho looking for you. You were actively avoiding him because you knew you’d receive an earful too. Between the two, he was definitely more overprotective.

It was pointless, you couldn’t concentrate on anything. The pounding in your head just wasn’t going to go away in a day or two, even though you hoped it did, and your entire body just felt hot to the touch, sweat kept leaking out of your pores at an alarming rate.

You missed Yeosang already. You were so used to hanging out with him the moment you set foot on campus, and you could already hear the whispers of why you were alone while Yeosang was nowhere to be seen.

It certainly made you mad. The assumption was that you finally got sick of Yeosang and had finally opened your eyes to how weird he was. It wasn’t true at all, you wanted to scream at everyone to stop being judgmental, but you couldn’t even stand straight without toppling over.

It was getting difficult to not give in to your fever. You were walking through the hallways of the campus to get to your next class, not to actually go, but to tell your next professor that you couldn’t attend and needed to go home. You were at your limit, especially when you accidentally bumped into a girl in your class. Luckily, she wasn’t salty about it and asked you if you were okay, instead.

You wouldn’t get the opportunity to answer her. It all happened so fast, black spots were covering your vision and you felt your muscles going weak. Soon enough,  your body just gave out on you, and you came tumbling over, passing out in this girl’s arms.

Yeosang saw everything. He hadn’t meant to, he usually took a different hallway to go to his classes since this one was very crowded, but something in his mind just kept telling him to pass through this one just once. 

Nothing mattered to him at that moment. He dropped everything - his books, his coffee, his inhibitions, his anger - and ran towards you, not caring at all the stares he was getting. He didn’t care, not anymore, especially not when it came towards you.

He didn’t even realize that Jongho had gotten to you first. His childhood friend was kneeling on the floor, cradling your head to his chest, his hands tapping your cheeks in an attempt to wake you up. He didn’t care about that either.

”Wait, what in God’s name are you doing?” Jongho was thoroughly surprised when Yeosang pushed him away and grabbed your limp body towards himself. He didn’t even have time to register anything when Yeosang began to carry you in one go as if you didn’t weigh anything.

“What does it look like?” Yeosang snapped. “I’m taking her—-”

“Hell no, you are not,” Jongho gritted his teeth, grabbing onto his arm to try and stop him. His explosion had already caught on to the other students, it was embarrassing.

Yeosang tried to shrug off Jongho’s hand, but he didn’t budge and held tighter. “You are the reason she is sick, bastard,” he hissed under his breath. He was about to say more, but he was caught off guard at the way Yeosang glared at him.

There was an intense, burning rage of fire in those eyes. He’s known Yeosang all his life, yet he has never seen this much emotion in his friend’s eyes. He was a no-nonsense type of man, and the magnitude of his feelings written in those eyes, the possessiveness, he had no choice but to let go and let Yeosang carry you away.

White lights penetrated through your eyelids even when they weren’t open. It was odd, you woke up with your eyes completely closed, but that flashing light was completely blinding you. It was unbearable.

You sat up with a groan, your hands clutching your head to soothe the pounding headache that made you want to split your head in half. The last thing you remembered was falling completely into that void, blackness swallowing you into its chasm, and then, nothing.

There was a small moment of panic that set in when you looked around and realized that you had absolutely no idea where you were. The only reason why you knew that you were back in Yeosang’s apartment was that the bed you were lying on smelled exactly like him; that sweet, musky, earthy scent that invaded your olfactory senses always brought heaven down to you.

A sudden ache clustered behind your eyes, the worst kind. It rendered you weak all over again, like your body was suddenly remembering that it was supposed to be sick. And just like that, you fell back asleep. 

But not for long. You felt something on your forehead, something wet and cold, and it was disrupting your well-needed rest. Your lips were getting parted a bit, an unconscious groan slipped past them.

“Yunho,” you mumbled, voice scratchy, throat itchy with how sore it was becoming.

Yeosang scoffed softly, his grip on the thermometre tightens ever so slightly, his other hand holding the cold towel on your forehead in place, hoping your fever would lessen, if not completely go away. 

You kept mumbling your roommates’ names, specifically Yunho’s. He knew of Yunho, he didn’t mind him, but he’d rather not hear it right now. He’ll let it pass for now, you were quite delirious, after all. It wasn’t something he couldn’t fully blame you for, it was him who was to blame for what happened to you.

His brow raised when your hand suddenly held his, the one holding the towel on your forehead. “Yuyu, cold,” you mumbled.

”Think again, princess,” his left eye twitched in annoyance, but he kept his voice as gentle as possible. 

You opened one eye so as to not overwhelm yourself with the light. Ah, how could you forget? You squeezed his hand slightly. “Yeo,” you smiled a little. “Are you still mad at me?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” he muttered, trying hard not to squeeze your hand back with the small nickname you gave him this time. “You are in my house, in my bed, calling another man’s name. You tell me.”

You frowned when he leaned away. “Keep that thing on,” he pointed at the cloth on your forehead. “I’ll be back to get some soup.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you weren’t in the mood for soup and that you just wanted to go to sleep, so just watched him walk out of the room. You had no right to complain, your heart was getting warmer in your chest at the thought of Yeosang still taking care of you even when he was mad at you.

People don’t know how pure-hearted this man was, but you knew. You knew.

When sleep was about to come knocking towards you once more, Yeosang had to tap your cheeks a bit to wake you up. He wouldn’t admit it, but it did make him feel bad, but you had to eat to replenish your energy.

“Open up,” he lifted the spoon to feed you, himself. “Don’t soil my bed.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle a little, the sound of it a bit grating in your ears. His rough-around-the-edges made you feel reassured, like he was never angry at you in the first place. You’d take this over anything any other day.

With his help, you were able to finish the soup very quickly. Here came the hard part, though - you needed to drink some medicine. Your stomach refused to take anything anymore, you didn’t want to throw up.

”Open your mouth,” Yeosang tried to push the pill in your mouth. “I don't want you dying on me.” 

Your fever is taking over your senses now, delirium setting in, and your vision is doubling. “Can I take it later? I really can’t, it’s too bitter,” you whined.

He frowned. “No. I don’t give a damn, take it before I shove it down your throat.”

He sighed exasperatedly when you weren’t letting up. He wasn’t a complete ass, he would never force you to do something you didn’t want to. 

An idea crosses his head. He bit his bottom lip apprehensively, there was one thing he could do, but was it going to be worth it? 

He took a look at your pitiful state. Drops of sweat trickled down your forehead, yet you were still shivering terribly. Your eyes opened and shut themselves repeatedly, yet they remained unfocused on anything.

One thing was for sure - you were still beautiful. The answer wasn’t lost on him.

He takes his mask off, the one that covered the majority of his face, the one he detested yet swore would never take off. He puts the pill on his tongue, grabs your face, then puts his lips against yours.

You mewled, caught off-guard by the suddenness of it, but you were far too gone to notice and care. This was a dream, it had to be. It was the only way to not lose your mind over this. You were too delirious to see his face, and you didn’t realize that you had already swallowed the pill in the heat of the moment.

He pulled away, giving you a small peck on the nose. He walked towards the door to leave, putting his mask back on in the process, but not before looking back at you one more time. It wasn’t the way he would’ve normally done things, but it helped, didn’t it?

”Yeosang, wait,” you mumbled. It came out as a weak call, but at least he heard you when he turned around. You actually didn’t know if he did, but you just hoped he did.

”What?”

“Whatever it is that’s trapping you in your own mind,” you began. You had no idea what compelled you to say it, your delirium was getting to you, but you just had to say it. “Whatever has happened to you, just know that it wasn’t your fault.”

Yeosang froze, his entire body going rigid. “Go back to sleep,” he muttered, teeth gritted. It wasn’t out of anger, it was out of concern.

”Forgive yourself, please,” you coughed one last time before your head hit the pillow to rest. “And forgive me too…”

He wouldn’t go back to that room until the next day. He clearly had a lot to think about.

He was never truly mad at you, not entirely anyway. Rather, he was terrified. He was utterly scared of you finding out the skeletons in his closet before he told you, and he was close, he was so damn close, but when you found out first, he just couldn’t help the anger that filled his veins at that moment.

You slept for another day straight with Yeosang checking in on you once in a while. He didn’t wake you up, you definitely needed that rest to recuperate your energy

Your phone would ring once in a while but Yeosang was quick to assure Yunho, if he called, that you were fine. And if Jongho called, he wouldn’t even bother picking up. He wanted to be petty, what could he say?

By the third day, you were feeling completely fine. You were able to get up on your own and finally shower after staying on the same bed with the same clothes for a couple of days. You were able to deduce that Yeosang had taken you to his other guest room, the one that didn’t have the theater system.

When you got in the bathroom, you were pleasantly surprised to find clothes already provided in there for you. You couldn’t help the beating of your heart, both in adoration with this man and in the hurt you feel for him.

You hugged your knees, huddling in the corner of the shower as your tears mixed with the cascading water from above you. You hoped that it would wash away all the wrongs you’ve done, but you knew it never worked like that. If only things were that easy.

The shower definitely made you feel better, your body was so sore from laying down for days. You needed to stretch, and so when you looked at the time, you realized that it was only seven o’clock in the morning, so you could make breakfast for you and Yeosang.

Your body was on autopilot, years of making breakfast for Jongho and Yunho has trained you for this very moment. You just hoped Yeosang liked what you made, but you would understand if he didn’t.

“Smells good.”

You screeched, jumping a couple of feet away from where you were standing, throwing the spatula you were holding in the air. There he was, standing at the foot of the stairs just watching you.

He sighed, walking and picking up the spatual to hand it over to you. You avoided eye contact with him when he got so close, you could smell him. It makes your head grow weary with dizziness.

“I’m glad the clothes fit you,” he mumbled, clearing his throat. “Do you feel better?”

“I-I think so,” you replied, tucking a strand of your hair at the back of your ears, not knowing what to do now that he was directly in front of you like this.  

When you closed your eyes, you envisioned his face. Not in its entirety, however. You could perfectly see his features one by one when he removed the mask that night, but it was difficult to imagine them all together. Redness coloured your cheeks at the very thought of it. 

It wasn’t lost on him what you were thinking. The nervous ticks of your hands and the slightest shift of your body told him everything you needed to know, that you were nervous. 

You were expecting him to reply with something snide, something sarcastic, like he has always done with you. But instead, he heaved a sigh so heavy, it sounded like he was completely giving up and surrendering. “What am I going to do with you?” Yeosang said.

You frowned, looking up at him in apprehension. “W-What do you mean?”

“First, you invade my privacy by snooping around,” he said bluntly. You winced. “And then, you have the audacity to get sick. And now you’re here, making me breakfast you know I wouldn’t eat in front of you.”

You bit your lip, chewing on it nervously. You let out a small gasp when his thumb gently presses on your chin, pulling it down a little to stop you from doing so. “And then do you shit like this,” he whispered.

”I’m sorry,” you blurted out. “I’m so sorry for everything, I didn’t mean to be sick, but I’m very grateful that you took care of me.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, did you really think I’d just leave you hanging like that? Did you honestly think that you weren’t important to me enough?”

You blinked at him owlishly, your mouth opened a little as you stared comically at him. “But, you weren’t wrong,” you gulped, your vulnerability overpowering how nervous you were actually feeling right now. ”I did snoop around but I promise you I didn’t do it on purpose, I promise you—-“

”Shh,” he hushes you, pressing his thumb on your lips this time. “I know, princess, I know,“ he swallowed before continuing. “None of it was your fault, i-it’s all mine. I am so, so sorry, Y/N.”

It hurt you to see him like this, the Yeosang you knew was headstrong, upfront, and outspoken. The Yeosang in front of you right now was vulnerable, just like you, nervous, and hesitant to say what was on his mind. His eyes bore into you, they shone with endearment towards you.

His hand makes way to your cheeks, his hand cupping your face tenderly. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispered, a tone I’ve never heard from him before. “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

You sniffled, forcing a smile on your face. “Nah, you can’t get rid of me that easily,“ you chuckled. “I’m strong, aren’t I? Cheer up, Yeo.”

His hand itched to pull your head closer. “I’ve always liked it when you call my name like that,” he confessed, testing the waters by taking one step closer towards you. “When all you hear everywhere is ‘freak’, it sounds like a treat, you know?”

“I’m the only one who should matter,” you blurted out without thinking. “Those people don’t deserve you, they don’t deserve the smart, kind, empathetic person that you are, they just don’t.”

You saw Yeosang close his eyes slowly, his entire body trembling as he held you. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he muttered, both of his hands holding your face this time. “I don’t deserve you.”

“What? Don’t say that—-”

“I told myself to not cross this line before,” he said, walking forward, his hand pushing you backwards until you hit the countertop with your behind. “So I pushed you down a million times, but the truth was, I’d love it if you knew that you were on my mind.”

Your heart was constricting, shrinking on itself, that it hurt to even breathe. The vulnerability in his eyes was making you tear up. You purse your lips to stop yourself from tearing up then and there. “Do you remember what you told me the other night?” Yeosang asked you, his hand going behind your neck. 

You shook your head, not because you didn’t truly remember, but because you can’t even describe what you’re truly feeling right now. “You told me to forgive myself,” he murmured. “But how am I supposed to do that when I was this close to losing you because of some misunderstanding from my insecurities?”

You could feel the weight of what he was saying as something tangible. You gulped, opening your mouth those three little words you’ve always wanted to tell him, but he quickly shook his head. 

“Don’t say it,” he pleaded. “Not yet, Y/N. Not yet.”

This was it for Yeosang, it was now or never. With what he’s going to tell you, it’s either you stay or you don’t. There is no in between. He ran his hand through his hair, something you noticed he did a lot when he was frustrated, as if doing so would lessen his unraveling thoughts and feelings. 

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath. He can’t do it, where did he even want to start?

It was a constant push and pull between you and Yeosang - he was good at being there without suffocating, you were good at offering your support without asking for anything in return. It infuriated him, yet intoxicated him. All he wanted was to run away when all you wanted to do was lean on him. 

But not anymore, he wasn’t going to run anymore.

“For the lack of a better word, I’m fucked up, Y/N,” he chuckled bitterly, breaking your heart into small pieces. “It wasn’t always like this, you know? I have my reasons, and I was fine being alone, but you.”

He held your hands and warmth spread all throughout your fingertips. It sent sparks down your spine. “The first time I looked at you, you didn’t even notice it. You were the only one who didn’t pay attention to me or said anything remotely stupid about this.”

He was referring to the mask. You stared at him in sadness, was the bar really that low? It wasn’t difficult to not talk about it, it wasn’t your place, and you believed everyone does what they do for a reason regardless or how unreasonable it could be. 

His eyes started to search yours. He wanted to stop breathing. It was those eyes of yours. He swallowed a lump on his throat because you always looked at him like the only thing you saw was him. It was too much for him at times, yet it was never enough at the same time.

“There are a lot of things I want to tell you, but I don’t know where to start,” he admitted. He hated how small he sounded. “I want to tell you everything, I’m just stuck in my head lately, that’s all.”

You didn’t respond immediately, what were you supposed to say to something like that? You weren’t good with things like this, and your heart twisted with hurt as you took a good look at him, he looked hopeful yet sad. Yeosang thought you looked so understanding right now, and he wanted to scream.

“You saw it when you opened the box, didn’t you?”

You tilted your head, confused at first, but you knew exactly what he was talking about. You wanted to hear it from him. “What about it?”

“I’m so stupid,” he chuckled bitterly. “I guess I was embarrassed when you found out that you weren’t going to be my original partner for the project.”

Your heart thudded in your chest. I knew it, you thought. You did have an inkling, but you didn’t want to assume anything. “I don’t know why I did it, but I don’t regret it. Deep down, I think Professor Choi knew,” he continued.

You noticed that he was slowly pulling away, you can read it in his eyes that he’s said enough. You weren’t going to let him do that.

”Yeosang,” you uttered his name with gentle care; with such grace. “You can tell me anything, alright? No matter what it is, I’m here. You have no reason to carry your burdens by yourself anymore.”

You could tell that your words hit him like a hurricane. You stared at him, the conflict in his eyes, oh, how you want to take that all away from him. You definitely wanted to tell him how you felt about him, and you just might. 

Yeosang stepped closer to you, your face almost brushing against his chest. His hand tightened their hold on your and the contact sent jolts of shivers against your scalp. He was having an internal conflict, his resolve slowly breaking down in front of you as his eyes met with yours once again. You almost couldn’t handle the softness in his eyes, it was too much, yet it was everything.

“I don’t think I can do this,” he choked out, eyes reddening. He was pulling away.

But you weren’t going to let him. “You can,” you encouraged, voice gentle yet firm. You brought his hands to your lips and gave them a small peck. “I’m not leaving, even if you push me away. I am not leaving you.”

"No, you don't understand," he counteracted. "I don't want you to lean on me, because I'm falling, and I don't want that for you."

His hands were trembling. "And don't even count on me, because I'm drowning," he gazed at you with despair. "Please don't drown with me."

That hurt more than you thought possible for your heart to take. The emotions behind it were so rough, and for the first time, you didn't know what to do. "What do you want, then?"

"To hold you in my arms," he admitted. "Because I'd let the ocean take me if I can't."

The pounding of Yeosang’s heart slowed down, and finally, he finally felt like he could breathe again. He’d always felt like he was standing on the edge of the cliff, but this time, he could see himself finally jumping towards that liberation he’d always dreamt of chasing.

”Do you trust me?” You suddenly asked him.

It didn’t even take him a second to answer. “With all my heart.”

You suddenly lifted your fingers, eyes never leaving his. The fabric of the mask he wore on his face felt smooth and heavy against your fingertips as you slowly pulled it down and pulled it away from his face. It was the symbolization of it - you were going to set him free. 

To say you were starstruck was the least of your concerns. You’ve never seen someone so astoundingly beautiful that it took your breath away. It was like being hit by lightning - so sudden and intense that you felt like you were being blown away. You took all of his features one by one - his perfect nose, his kissable lips, that adorable birthmark that was now in full view.

It certainly brought tears to your eyes. You cupped Yeosang’s face as your tears fell. “You’re beautiful,” you sobbed, more tears filling your lips as you smiled at him. “So beautiful, Yeo. So, so beautiful.”

“I love you,” he whispered, his eyes filling up with his own tears. Finally saying them felt like something broke inside him yet healed at the same time. “I wanted to tell you in a better setting, in a more graceful way, but I don’t think I can keep it all in anymore.”

It was true. The words just slipped out before he could stop himself. It hung in the air, it felt unreal, and it was suffocating because his chest tightened with a mix of fear and anxiety as he waited for your response.

Your eyes widened and for a moment, you thought your knees were going to buckle underneath you. Before you even understood it, yourself, your hands left his face to snake behind his neck and then you were leaning towards him, your lips finally meeting with his.

It was everything and more. He was surprised at first, but then his lips started to move in sync with yours. It was months of pining with one another, feelings that were left unsaid for most of the time. And now you were here, breathing each other in as if today was going to be your last.

You felt so soft and warm against him. You were everything he ever wanted and now that he had you, there was no way he was letting you go. Not again.

”I love you too,” you pulled away slightly, your faces still inches away from each other. 

He couldn’t help but chuckle, not in amusement, but in relief. For the first time, he just let himself fall. He felt a deep yearning for you, it was far more than the desire to have you for himself. It was the unadulterated love he had for you.

You bit your lips at the sound of his voice, deep and unfiltered without the mask covering it. Yeosang tentatively held your face, his head tilting, the ghost of his lips fleeting against yours. He hesitated. While he wanted nothing more than to capture your lips one more time, he wanted to ask you one last thing.

“If I kiss you again right now, that will mean you will be mine,” he whispered. 

His impatient side was taking over, but no, it was up to you. If you want him, you’ll have him.

You blushed at the implication, but you already knew what you wanted. This was why you fell for him - it wasn’t for what he looked like or what he could and could have offered you, it was his warm and considerate attitude.

Your lips brushed against his. It was meant to be sweet, a confirmation of what your answer was without even needing to spell the words out to him. 

Yeosang’s resolve broke when you parted your lips. You let out a breathy, startled cry when he plunged his tongue straight onto your mouth, and your hold on his shoulders did nothing to calm down the wild beating of your heart. He pulled you close to him as if he was scared that you were going to leave him and all you did was kiss him even deeper to prove that you wouldn’t.

He needed to hear that sweet sound again. It was supposed to be a chaste kiss,  but when he sucked on your tongue after you had teasingly bitten his bottom lip, sweetness be damned. He swallowed your quiet, whiny moans as he held you closer against him, his hand just holding your cheeks as if you were the most precious of treasures.

The both of you were startled out of the kiss when the loud beeping of the fire alarm sounded from somewhere above you.

You paled, quickly pushing Yeosang away to put the fire away from the burning pan of breakfast that you had totally both forgotten in the heat of the moment. You pouted, disheartened at the blackened eggs, or what was left of it.

Yeosang started to laugh, not believing that an egg cockblocked him. It wasn’t the sarcastic laugh you were used to nor was it that passing laugh he’d make when he was restraining himself. No, this was the tummy-tickling type. His entire face was scrunched up, his lips spread throughout his face, his eyes squinting with that unmistakable happiness, and his demeanor light and free. You loved this look on him.

“Stop making fun of me,” you pouted, laughing in between. You never realized how contagious his laughter was, and that realization led you to another thought - you are loving the new things you were learning about him.

“Just leave them,” he said, taking the pan from you to put it down the sink and pulling you plush against his toned chest. 

“Yeosang,” you whined, blushing profusely at his affectionate gestures. It was a total change from who he was just hours prior to this. “Stop, I’m embarrassed…”

When he planted a quick peck on your lips, he couldn’t help but laugh again at your even more reddened face. You were so cute in his eyes, and had he known that he would feel this happy just by being with you like this, he would’ve gotten his head out of his ass a while back.

”I’ll take you out for lunch, princess,” he bargained, holding on to your hand. It wasn’t the first time he said the pet name, but it felt entirely different this time on your ears. “There’s this place I have to take you after.”

You didn’t miss the melancholy in his eyes when he said it, but you tried your best to cheer him up. “Oh? Is this a date, Kang Yeosang?”

”What if it is?” Yeosang scoffed playfully, hugging you from the waist tighter. “Can’t I take my girl out?”

“Who said I was your girl?”

You slightly felt bad at his shocked, widened eyes. You laughed out loud, leaning towards him once more to give him a sweet peck on his cheeks. “Relax, hot stuff,” you smirked when pink tinted his cheeks. “Thank you for loving me.”

A genuine smile crossed his lips, the adoration in his eyes tripling from the words you just uttered. He leaned his forehead against yours, content and happy. “No, thank you for loving me.”

Lunch was better than you could have ever imagined. Yeosang took you to this place that was an hour away from his apartment. Unsurprisingly, it was a high-end place, somewhere you would never have imagined you’d ever dine in.

“Yeo, I feel underdressed,” you frowned in concern, tugging at your dress that you both shopped for on a whim to suit the ambience of the fine dining spot.

”You’re beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “The most beautiful princess.”

When you finally sat down, he kept looking around, fiddling with his suit uncomfortably. You took his hand in yours in reassurance, it was the first time he went out without his mask and you could tell that he wasn’t used to it.

If only he knew. You ate lunch slowly, not because you were trying to be posh, but because you kept stealing glances at your boyfriend. Your boyfriend. The thought almost made you choke on your food so many times.

He really was the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen, heck, he was even prettier than you ever will be. His features were so refined, like God took his time with him. And now, he was yours.

However, the old Yeosang you knew was still there. He glared nastily at you when you tried to split the bill when you were done eating. You sheepishly smiled at him, putting your card back in your wallet to let him pay for everything. You would make it up to him by kissing him in front of everybody in the restaurant when you were leaving.

Public display of affection wasn’t your thing, but it was so worth it to see his flustered smirk.

”Do you know why I brought you here?” Yeosang questioned, buckling your seatbelt for you like a true gentleman, curiously. 

You frowned, looking around from inside the car. You’ve never been here before and to be fair, when you told him to surprise you, he did deliver. “You’re not going to kill me and dump my body out here, aren’t you?” You teased him.

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “I should,” he murmured. He laid his arm at your headrest, looking behind as he reversed the car. You gulped, he looked hot. “Seriously, Y/N? God, you’re so fucking weird.”

You chortled, the snorting sound coming from you was so embarrassing but you didn’t care. “True, but you love me,” you smirked triumphantly. 

He sniffled, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. “I know,” he fake cried. “Is it too late for me to find the receipt so I can still return you to the store?”

You gasped, your mouth dropping in mock offense. “Yeosang!”

He wasn’t going to change from that apathetic friend that you had first before this, except that you had the benefit of having his love now. 

The drive was smooth-sailing. You felt like you were in cloud nine the entire time, giggling when he would smirk at you knowingly, his hand on yours the entire time while the other was on the steering wheel. You couldn’t help but notice how smooth his hands were.

Soon enough, you were driving in an area where the houses had great views and were situated in prime locations. You didn’t notice it at first, but the more you drove, the bigger the houses got. You weren’t naive, you had an idea just how wealthy Yeosang’s family was, but you were about to find out just how wealthy they actually were.

”Let’s go,” he murmured, unbuckling his seatbelt after parking directly in front of this gated house - mansion, rather. It was intimidating, the driveway, alone, was long and winding, surrounded by pretty lights and vast greenery. 

He opened your door for you, holding your hand and gently ushering you out. You gulped, if you felt underdressed earlier when you went to a fine dining restaurant, you definitely felt out of place and you haven’t even gone inside yet.

“You could’ve told me we were going here,” you frowned, your mind already getting poisoned by your own insecurities. You gestured to yourself. “I would’ve dressed better.”

Outside the gates was a small hut-looking station, presumably where the security guards were whose jobs were to filter out who entered the property and kick out whoever isn't welcome. Yeosang knocked twice on the window with his knuckles. You were fascinated when the sliding window opened quickly, seemingly like whoever was there wasn’t expecting to be disturbed when they opened their mouth to speak.

But when they saw who was knocking, they immediately shut up. “Young Master,” the guard said in surprise rather than contempt. 

Your boyfriend smiled. “Hello, Juyeon,” he waved slightly. He gestured to me. “I’m with my girl. Open the gates, do not announce my arrival. Wooyo?”

You didn’t pay attention to their conversation, your insecurities getting the best of you. You generally weren’t someone to get intimidated by opulence and the material luxury that this world could offer, but now that it was right in front of you staring you in the face, you didn’t know what to do.

You didn’t realize that the gates had opened and Yeosang was holding your hand again and leading you inside. You smiled politely at the guard, bowing slightly to each other before you turned your attention back to Yeosang.

“You’re beautiful, I told you,” he shook his head, walking forward and leading you in. “If anything, you look perfect.”

He chuckled at your confused face. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet, someone important to me,” he explained, his voice taking on a sadder tone even though he tried to hide it from you. “This is my family home. I want everyone to see you for you and they will accept that because I’d hate for you to change just to fit in.”

You didn’t know squat about construction, but even to the inexperienced eye, it was easy to tell that the way the entire property was built was made up of high-quality and premium materials. You were still on the lawn and it was already boasting a large amount of space. 

“It’s called common courtesy,” you reasoned out, trying hard not to gawk at your surroundings. “I don’t want to look like I didn’t make an effort or anything.”

You faced the front door with him, pausing when he hesitated to push it open. “You’re literally fine, though I understand where you’re coming from,” he reassured me. “My parents are very kind people, trust me.”

You blanched. “Your parents?”

Now you felt totally out of place, you were about to meet his parents! “Yeo, a-are you sure about this? We’ve only been together for a day, are you sure—-”

“Princess,” he stopped you, worry in his eyes at your panicked state. It significantly calmed you down, but it didn’t stop the wild beating of your heart. “You were my friend first,” he smiled tightly at you. “I think my parents would be pleased to meet the person that helped me and was there for me whenever I needed comfort.”

Your chest warmed, his words hitting you directly in your heart. To say you were touched would be an understatement. “I did that for you?”

“In more ways than one, yeah,” he chuckled, ruffling your hair affectionately before fixing it, tucking the stray ones behind your ears gently and tenderly. “Ready?”

If the driveway and the lawn weren’t enough to impress you and make your jaw hit the floor, the interior of the house definitely did. Everything from the living room down the smallest corners of the walls screamed luxury and money, the attention to detail was impressive, especially since you grew up in a humble home.

”Holy shit, Yeosang,” you blurted out as he gave you a tour. “I knew you had money, but this is crazy.”

“Old money,” he shrugged. “Didn’t Jongho tell you we were childhood friends? My little princess can think about that for a second, hmm?”

You rolled your eyes at him, but he was right. It also didn’t stop the blush from rising up your cheeks. You would just never get used to his affectionate nature being out in the open now. 

Besides the few house workers that were delighted at the sight of Yeosang, you didn’t encounter anybody significant yet. You weren’t sure if that was a relief or not, but so far you were enjoying the tour. He showed the pool, the built-in sauna with the promise of using it with you next time, and the outdoor kitchen.

There was also a home theater, but he didn’t stay long. You figured it had something to do with how you two had a falling out a week prior. Instead, he took you to his favourite place - the wine cellar. Apparently, his father loved collecting wine from all over the world. You gulped at the mere thought of the price tag attached to them.

He smirked when he brought you to the main kitchen. Your eyes shone at the granite countertops, the marbled floors, and the custom cabinetry that held every spice and herb known to mankind. There, a kind looking woman approached you with a wide smile. Yeosang introduced her as the head chef.

”I see you got yourself a little girlfriend, Sangie,” she teased mischievously. 

Yeosang cleared his throat, rolling his eyes affectionately as he gave the head a tight hug. “It’s been a while,” he whispered with an emotion you haven’t recognized before. “Uhm, this is Y/N,“ he gestures to you after he’s pulled away. 

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled as the head chef gave you a tight hug of your own. It certainly touched you, it was such a warm gesture and you’ve never met them before, too.

”Hopefully, Yeosang has been treating you well,” she said with a knowing smile. “My, you are very pretty, dear.”

“Who’s very pretty?”

You turned to a new voice from the entrance of the grand kitchen. Judging from what you were seeing, you knew exactly who this woman was. She looked just like Yeosang, except she was much, much older. She had this elegance and grace that one couldn’t get from anywhere else except for age and the wisdom that came along with it.

You bowed in a ninety-degree angle as politely and as respectfully as you possibly can. “G-Good afternoon, Mrs. Kang, I am so sorry to intrude into your house like this!” 

You heard her amused laughter, and when you rose back up, you held back in your own laughter when you saw her hold the shell of her son’s ear and pulled it towards her cheekily. 

“You unfilial son of mine,” she started off, ignoring Yeosang’s groans of pain as she tightened her hold. “You haven’t set foot in here for a while and you dare just show up unannounced? Oh, your father will have a field day with you!”

“But it’s okay,” she giggled, your eyes widening when she held you by the arm. “Finally, you bring a beautiful girl home, oh, I thought my son was going to die a virgin forever!”

“Mum! What the hell?”

Yeosang’s mom was a chatterbox, and she was the sweetest. It made you breathe out a sigh of relief because you were slightly terrified that she’d reject your humble background compared to theirs and her son’s lifestyle growing up.

The only way Yeosang was able to drag you away was when you made a promise to her that you’d come back for tea time.

“Princess, I hope this doesn’t deter you from coming back,” he remarked sarcastically, leading you outside with his hand on your lower back. “I swear everybody here is sane.”

As if on cue, the house staff that would either pass the two of you or you would pass bowed and giggled to themselves in amusement and surprise when they saw Yeosang. You smiled awkwardly at everybody, breathing a sigh of relief when you reached the back part of the property once more, except Yeosang led you to an entirely different place.

“I think everybody is sweet and it’s quite endearing to see them like you,” you chuckled. “I get it though. It’s like they haven’t seen you in months.”

“That’s because they actually haven’t seen me in months,” he deadpanned.

You chuckled a bit, thinking that he was joking just to uplift the mood, but when you saw his facial expression remaining unchanged, your smile dropped. “W-Wait, you’re serious?”

“We’ve been technically together for a while now without the label, have you ever seen my family visit or heard a phone call?” Yeosang scoffed, pulling on your hand to stop you from walking. “We’re here.”

Your mouth parted in awe. Flowers littered your vision, they were a dancing rainbow of pretty blossoms. You’ve always dreamt of getting a house one day with a huge garden like this, you could almost detect the insatiable fragrance this garden offered, and the way the beautiful petals curled from the summer heat made you want to touch them. You could stay here and make this your sanctuary.

”But why? Was there any reason you cut contact with them? They love you, Yeo, I could see that,” you said softly, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

He lifted a finger to point at something. “That’s why,” he said. His eyes were swimming with a mixture of anxiety and longing, but when he blinked, it was gone. He offered you his hand once more. “Come along, princess. There’s someone I would like you to meet.”

You didn’t notice it at first, but there was a person on the far end of the garden. The closer you got, the more you realized that it was a man. He was obscured by all the pretty flowers, but he was there clear as day.

Your heart dropped to your feet, for the man was in a wheelchair, his entire right leg in a cast along with his right arm. Was this the reason why Yeosang chose to leave his family? You were nervous to know the answer.

He didn’t notice you at first, too busy basking underneath the sun that was beaming down on him. He had a soft, serene smile painted on his face that signified that he was truly at peace at the moment. Your brows shot up when you got closer, he was handsome. 

Finally, he looked up, and then his eyes widened. Between Yeosang’s trembling hands and the man’s widened, unsure eyes, you didn’t know what to do, exactly. The three of you were frozen in time.

“Yeosang,” he whispered, eyes hooded with emotions you couldn’t stand looking at, not because you had something against this man, but because you might end up crying if you stare too long. He tried to get up hurriedly, struggling against his restrictions, and it was when Yeosang finally broke out of his trance and rushed forward.

“Damn it, Wooyoung, what the hell is wrong with you?” Yeosang hissed, his harsh voice a contrast to the gentle way he helped the latter sit back properly on his wheelchair. “Have you lost your mind?”

You purse your lips. Ah, you thought, so this was Wooyoung. The genes in this family continue to astound you. You didn’t recognize him at first - in the photo you saw, Wooyoung had shorter hair, and right now, his hair was long enough to reach his shoulders. And he has a thorny rose tattoo that he didn’t have in the photo.

Wooyoung stared at Yeosang when he lifted his pants a little before squatting down to his level, using his hands to lean on the wheelchair for support. The fox-looking man stared at his brother with no particular expression on his face except for his teary eyes. You felt like you were intruding.

Yeosang smirked lightly, without any malice or ill-intent. “How are you, Woo?”

You weren’t expecting much, in fact, you weren’t expecting anything at all, but you sure as hell weren’t expecting your boyfriend’s face to be, for the lack of a better word, bitch-slapped so hard, it sent his head reeling to the side. The loud, cracking sound of skin hitting skin surprised you, to say the least.

“That’s for disappearing on me for months,” Wooyoung hissed, his hand still in the air.

Yeosang’s mouth was parted in shock. He slowly turned his head back to Wooyoung, his eyes widened, but he didn’t say a word. His cheek was slowly growing red and if it wasn’t for the situation, you would’ve laughed at the handprint forming on the area.

After a while, Wooyoung burst out crying, leaning forward to grab Yeosang by his shirt so he could wrap his arms tightly around him. Yeosang relaxes into the hug, patting Wooyoung’s shaking body whilst rubbing onto his back soothingly like a father comforting a son. The only sound in the garden right now was Wooyoung’s silent wails and sniffles.

“How did you even know I was here?” Wooyoung wondered, sniffling, as he pulled away and took a good look at Yeosang by holding onto his face. “You look…happier.”

You blushed when he side-eyes you mischievously, winking at you subtly before turning his attention back at Yeosang. “You’re a jerk, you know that?” Wooyoung further chided, scoffing loudly at Yeosang, who rolled his eyes. “Dad is pretty pissed at you and mum was running around like a chicken without a head. You left me high and dry, bastard.”

“And you?” Yeosang raised a brow, rubbing his cheek, offended.  “What about you?”

“You tell me,”  Wooyoung pushed Yeosang’s shoulder. You wanted to giggle at how different the two brothers were. “You were having so much fun at dad’s penthouse.”

Yeosang was genuinely surprised. “How—”

“Anyway,” he grinned, turning his wheelchair manually to face you. He stretches his arm towards you and waves it to gesture to you to come closer to him. “Come, come,” he said. “I need to know the girl who removed my brother’s stick from his ass.”

“Bold of you to assume we’re together,” Yeosang scoffed, motioning for you to sit down on the nearby bench.

“Keep telling yourself that. Move along,” he turned his wheelchair once more, the wheels going over Yeosang’s foot like a bump on the road. He mumbled a small ‘oops,’ not really caring about the latter’s groan of pain as he clutched on his foot while glaring behind the former’s back intensely.

He grinned again, bringing his hand out for you to shake. “Jung Wooyoung, the better looking brother.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Yeosang rebutted. “She’s my girlfriend, dimwit.”

“L/N Y/N, the stick holder,” you smirked, bringing your own hand out to shake his. You tried hard not to stare at his cast and his injuries, though you were extra curious about them especially since Yeosang kept looking at them when he thought Wooyoung didn’t notice, and his eyes held pain.

Wooyoung laughed, surprising you with his high-pitched cackle. “Oh my God, I like her, I like her!” He repeatedly said, slapping his own thigh as he laughed. He batted his eyelashes at you. “So, what did you do to bring my brother out of his shell?”

It was when the atmosphere turned tense. Yeosang’s shoulders stiffened, his back muscles turning rigid. “I don’t think we should talk about that right now,” he murmured, sitting beside you and draping an arm across your shoulders.  “There’s so much time, Woo–”

“What, so much time for you to leave again? I won’t see you for months, hell, I might not see you again, knowing you,” Wooyoung scoffed, sighing heavily. He looked up at the sky again for minutes before setting his eyes towards Yeosang once more. “You need to let go, Sangie,” he paused, tilting his chin at me. “Does she know?”

Your curiosity was definitely piqued this time. Yeosang shook his head. “That’s why I’m here,” he sighed. He looked at you, giving you a tight smile. “I figured if you’re going to be with me, you have to know soon, anyway.”

“Is this related to why you covered your face the entire time during this semester?” You wondered absentmindedly, not expecting that it would set off another set of questions.

“Wait, what the hell does that mean?” Wooyoung blurted out in surprise. “Cover your face, how? Yeosang?”

Both of you proceeded to tell in your own experiences on how Yeosang would wear a mask to cover the bottom half of his face on campus and even around you until recently. Wooyoung’s jaw dropped lower and lower down to the floor the more you recounted your experiences, especially how Yeosang was being treated by the other students.

Wooyoung had this forlorn look on his face that got sadder and sadder the more you talked to the point that you regretted talking in the first place. He rubbed his face with his hands frustratedly. “Damn it, Sangie, I told you, I’m fine.”

Yeosang raised a brow, giving his injuries a pointed look, making Wooyoung roll his eyes. “It will heal,” he tried to console, but it wasn’t working. He turned to you, eyes laced with pain, before he sighed and spoke. “There was a car accident a couple of months ago. I was in the passenger’s seat, and Yeosang was driving.”

Hearing that felt like a dream, the sudden shock of it not fully sinking into you until Yeosang tightened his hold on your shoulder. “I like you, and you seem like a nice girl,” Wooyoung continued. “But I have to ask you this - what do you think about Yeosang?”

It definitely sparked something in you, it was an easy answer. “Everything,” you grabbed Yeosang’s hands in yours. “He’s very sweet, a bit of a jackass sometimes, but it’s a part of his personality I’m willing to work around because I’m in love with him. Anybody who doesn’t like him is lost on them, and I feel bad for them.”

Wooyoung seemed satisfied with this answer. His hand patted your free hand before he looked down. “There was this girl,” he began, voice hardening. “Long story short, she was obsessed with him. She followed him everywhere, she even broke into our house one night, I mean, this girl was crazy.”

You gasped, turning your head abruptly at Yeosang, who was avoiding eye contact. You had an idea where this was going, you didn’t want to hear the repeated heartbreak for both of them, but you had to because it will help Yeosang move on. You tightened your hold on his hand.

It made sense. It all made sense. The attitude, the melancholy, and the mask. It just made sense. His face was his downfall.

“One day, we were coming home from the arcade,” Wooyoung continued. “Next thing we know, she was trailing us from behind and trying to line herself to the car,” he shook his head bitterly. “She was drunk. One thing led to another, my side of the car hit a pole head on.”

You gasped loudly, covering your mouth with your hands. Anger coursed through your veins, its hot trail going up your brain at the pain that must’ve brought upon everybody. “As you can see, I’m still recovering. Couple of broken bones,” he pointed to his casts. “But I’m fine. I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“It shouldn’t have happened at all,” Yeosang gritted his teeth. “I should have been careful, I should’ve just driven faster, I should’ve,” he paused, sniffling, rubbing his eyes to stop the tears from falling. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt, Wooyoung. You lost your baseball scholarship because of me.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Wooyoung shook his head. “It’s her fault, Yeosang. It was never yours, it’s high time you stopped blaming yourself.”

Yeosang buried his head on the crook of your shoulder and neck, his other arm wrapping completely around your shoulders until he was fully hugging you for his own comfort. You and Wooyoung looked at each other and you couldn’t help but admire the man. The accident should have deterred him, but no, he still looked like a bright and cheerful person. Jung Wooyoung was stronger than anyone you know.

Wooyoung lifted his hand, trembling, wanting to reach out to his brother, but he put them back down. “You already gave up your dreams of being an idol because of this, because of that bitch,” he whispered bitterly. You were taken aback at the animosity, but you couldn’t blame him. “How much more of yourself are you going to take?”

Wetness hit your neck, but Yeosang made no sound. You respected it even though you wanted him to just let it out completely. You smoothed his hair out, whispering sweet nothings in his ear and letting him know that you were here for him. You wanted to cry with him, he has been through so much and you never knew.

“A little birdie did tell me to forgive myself,” he chuckled, sniffling a bit before chuckling lightheartedly. 

You blushed again when Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows playfully at you. Yeosang pulls apart from you to lean down to hug his brother. It was then that you all knew that that weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, that the ghost of his past was finally leaving him to be the person he once was slowly, but surely.

“Mum and dad had never blamed you, and neither did I,” Wooyoung closed his eyes, rubbing Yeosang’s back. “We’ll heal together, okay?”

Campus was fascinating, to say the least. You had stayed over Yeosang’s penthouse the entire weekend. You couldn’t bear to leave him after that, but right now, you kept adjusting your sweater because makeup wasn’t enough to cover the hickeys that littered your collarbone and your chest.

After much deliberation, Yeosang had decided to ditch the mask. You assured him that whether or not he wore it would not change anything about your relationship, but all he gave you was a small smile and a reassuring peck on the lips.

“I have you now, I have no reason to wear it anymore,” he said. “Plus, it was getting difficult to wear it, anyway. I don’t know why I even started.”

One thing you were excited about, however, was being in the car with him to spend more time with him since you only had one class together. Luckily, both of your classes started in the afternoon, so you had time in the morning to go on a small date.

“Nervous?” You asked him, holding his hand as he stared out at the parking lot of the campus. “We should have taken my car, it’s a little more laidback.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I’ve been hiding who I am for a while and to be quite frank, there’s only a lot of smack talking I can take, and plus,” he smirked, opening the car door and swinging his legs out. “You’re with me. . I refuse to let you get dragged in this shit.”

You were proud of Yeosang, even though he was slightly nervous, you could tell that he was at least trying. Everyone started to stare, you two were definitely eye-catching. You weren’t the most well-known student, but everybody did recognize you for being a friend of not only Jongho and Yunho, but also Hongjoong. 

Yeosang, however, nobody has ever seen him before. You were slightly peeved, it wasn’t that much of a secret that Yeosang was definitely attractive, subjectively and objectively. His jawline was defined, his eyes brighter and more expressive now, and overall, he just looked free.

The closer you got to the crowded places, the more heads turned. Eyes after eyes following your every move, wondering who the handsome man with you was and whether he was a student or just someone you’re with. Yes, people did stare. It was hypocritical and you couldn’t help but get mad, now that Yeosang was more pleasing to their eyes, they chatter with excitement?

“Relax, princess,” Yeosang chuckled, pushing your head towards his so he could plant a small kiss on your forehead. You smirked at all the ‘aww’ and ‘damn’ in the background. “You’re like a little cat with its fur standing up.”

He opened the door to the library for you with a small chuckle and suddenly, his eyes shone with nostalgia. He smirked at you, this was where everything had started, and right now, he was silently making fun of you when you were still technically stalking him back then when you had a crush on him.

Hongjoong smiled brightly at you when you and Yeosang approached the table. “Hey, Y/N. What’s going on?”

You sheepishly gave him the book that you had borrowed from before and avoided eye contact with him when he raised his brows so high, it almost reached his hairline. Even Yeosang was trying not to laugh beside you.

“Y/N, this is the same book from months ago when you were trying to butter up to Kang Yeosang,” Hongjoong muttered, scoffing in disbelief and amusement. “Holy crap, I have to see what your penalty fee would be.”

You didn’t care. You were embarrassed to the high heavens, especially when Yeosang started to put his knuckles in his mouth to stop himself from bursting out laughing. “Yeah? I wonder how that went,” he asked, adding salt to your wounds.

“Oh, you should’ve seen her,” Hongjoong grinned. “She had such a massive crush on the guy, it was hilarious,” he shook his head before clearing his throat. “Sorry about that. Would you like to return a book or borrow one, yourself?”

“I’ll borrow the same book, if you don’t mind,” Yeosang pointed at the Machiavellian book absentmindedly. “I promise to return it on time.”

You hissed at him, actually sounding like a cat, in annoyance. Hongjoong laughed and nodded. “Of course,” he gave Yeosang the logbook and a pen like he did to you before when you borrowed the book, yourself. “I just need you to write your name here.”

“Oh, no need,” Yeosang brushed off. “My name should be in the book. Kang Yeosang.”

“Ah, I see—what?” Hongjoong said before doing a comical double-take with his eyes bulged out from its sockets. It was your turn to smirk and look at him in amusement. He looked at Yeosang up and down with a huge smile. “Holy shit, man, you look amazing! I love the coat on you.”

Yeosang was genuinely surprised. At first, he didn’t know how to react and it made you smile. He was still getting used to genuine compliments and you found it adorable. “Hongjoong was one of the people who didn’t judge you,” you supplied. 

“Thank you,” your boyfriend’s cheeks were tinted pink.

Class wasn’t any better either. Instead of sitting by the corner like he usually did, Yeosang sat beside you proudly. Those who had been there before you came had either looks of curiosity or awe. The two of you couldn’t help but giggle. Soon enough, the class started to fill up, and then Yunho came to sit beside you like he usually did.

“You,” he seethed, giving you a pointed look. You sheepishly looked back. “You went MIA on both Jongho and I, you owe us for making you worry the whole week!”

He notices who was beside me and does a double look before bowing a little. “Ah, hello, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before,” Yunho juts his hand out respectfully. “Jeong Yunho.”

Yeosang gives me an amused look before he smirks. “But you have seen me before, do you not remember?”

“W-well, no, I don’t think so,” Yunho frowned, his face contorting into confusion before his eyes widened like Hongjoong’s and his mouth dropped open. “Wait, hold on—”

You giggled into your hands, it was so amusing to see your friends’ reactions to Yeosang so far. Yunho’s rant got cut off when Professor Choi entered the room along with Professor Park behind him in tow. You will admit, your two professors were both attractive and you have confessed once or twice to Yeosang that you had a crush on Professor Choi at one point.

There was a third person who trailed behind them and it made you and Yunho snort in amusement. It was Jongho. He didn’t make a point to look at anybody except the professors so he didn’t notice you and Yunho.

“I have Professor Park Seonghwa with me to judge everybody’s performance with me,” Professor Choi gestures to the latter, his dimpled smile swooning everybody present. “I’m hoping for something wonderful today,” he then gestured to Jongho next. “We also have our winner from last semester judging you all.”

You had totally forgotten about that part. Jongho did a solo the other semester. It was the reason why only you and Yunho had been in this class since Jongho was exempted.

Yunho elbowed you amidst all the chatters, droning the Professors’ explanation. “Fucking hell, Y/N, that’s Yeosang?” Yunho whistled in awe. You nodded and he snorted. “I knew it, I damn well knew he’d be attractive, but holy hell, are you sure that’s him?”

“I’m pretty sure I know who my boyfriend is,” you giggled.

You almost felt bad for Yunho, who seems to be going through an internal mental crisis. “Boyfriend? Since when?” 

Coincidentally and unluckily for him, Yunho was cut off when his name and Mingi’s were called. He seemed to forget what he was inquiring about and stood up to go. Mingi passed the both of you and smirked before greeting you.

“Wish us luck,” he chuckled. He waved slightly. “What’s up, Yeosang?”

And then he went with Yunho towards the front. Your boyfriend frowned, taken aback by Mingi’s sudden greeting. “How the heck does he know?” Yeosang murmured in surprise. He had always assumed that the campus jock was a massive asshole.

“Hell, if I knew,” you shrugged. “We barely practiced for this thing, ugh. I’m saying goodbye to those benefits now.”

After the camera had been set up by Professor Park, Yunho and Mingi began to introduce themselves towards it. You had totally forgotten that this will be a recorded performance for submission and future referrence. You clutched Yeosang’s hand nervously and he squeezed back.

You weren’t surprised at Yunho’s skills. He occasionally went to a dance studio and had even dragged you and Jongho with him at one point. However, you were definitely taken aback at Mingi’s deep and raspy voice when he started rapping. What’s more is that the guy could dance too. You groaned, you and Yeosang were definitely done for.

When Yunho went back, he looked genuinely happy, and you couldn’t help but beam at him and be happy for him, too. Even Yeosang gave him a friendly pat in the back as a congratulatory gesture.

By then, it was pretty obvious that Yunho and Mingi would win and be exempted for the next semester. Not that the others weren’t good, in fact, there were a couple of close calls. Dancing and acting seemed to be the norm and since nobody except Mingi had rapped, theirs was remarkable.

“L/N Y/N? Kang Yeosang?”

When your names were called, you suddenly felt like your legs had become like lead. Jongho looked up so fast, you were surprised his neck didn’t crack from the whiplash of looking up at your direction as if he knew you were there the entire time. His hold on the pen loosened as he stared at Yeosang in bewilderment as he started to walk down with you.

“What the fuck?” Jongho mouthed at you, perplexed at what he was seeing. You shrugged and gave him a small wink.

At first, it didn’t hit everyone - especially since a handsome man was walking towards the front of the class with you and they were expecting a masked freak. You had to control your oncoming anger, it was easy to get it misplaced since you were in a position where you could give everyone a piece of your mind, but you didn’t want to embarrass Yeosang further.

“Uhm,” Professor Park cleared his throat to mask his own surprise. “You are Yeosang, correct?”

Your boyfriend nodded, showing his campus identification card. “I think so, yeah,” he joked lightheartedly. 

All hell broke loose after a small pause. Gasps of surprise, whispers and murmurs of your fellow students all talking about Yeosang, the boy who wore a mask and who everybody called weird or eccentric, but that was long gone by now. There was a small tinge of pink on his cheeks at all the attention but when he looked at you, he knew that everything was alright.

“What will you present to us?” Professor Choi tentatively asked as he started to tinker at the recording camera. He set his wise eyes on Yeosang before lowering his voice, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “We would have given you a fair grading even if you chose to wear your self-expression.”

Yeosang gave the professor a genuine smile, going forward to grab two microphones from a still puzzled Jongho. “Thank you,” he uttered. He gave you one mic before turning again. “Uhm, we're performing a song.”

Professor Choi lifts a surprised brow while Professor Park nods, glee evident on his face. “Ah, we haven’t had anybody sing for us yet,” the former supplied. 

“Are you going to be okay? I’m worried for you,” you whispered to him truthfully amidst all the murmurs that were going around the room. 

“I’m still used to this,” he reassured. “Former idol, remember?”

The moment the music started, Yeosang lost his soul into the rhythm. You guys had decided long ago that he’d sing all the main parts while you remained as harmonies. You were proud of  him and you can see that it felt good for him, his voice elevated your soul like it was your catharsis.

You were still annoyed at all the swoons he was receiving, but you decided to ignore it for now and tamped down your jealousy, not when Yeosang was releasing the emotions he’s held within himself for a while now.

But what surprised you was not only was everyone, including Yunho and Mingi, swaying to the rhythm of Yeosang voice, but someone else’s voice had joined to harmonize with you. You looked at Jongho in surprise and it was his turn to wink at you. Yeosang patted Jongho’s shoulder as the three of you filled the room with your voices.

You weren’t sure if that was okay, but everyone went along with it. Soon enough, everybody was singing along with the two of you. Yeosang’s voice faltered and your quick thinking decided to take over for a few seconds so he could contain himself. He held your hand for comfort, this meant a lot to him, but Jongho comically pulled your hands apart, his eyes widening in a ‘no’ stance.

And soon enough, it was over. Just like when Professor Park picked who your partners would be, your performance was also the last for the day. Cheers along with loud claps surrounded the entire room and Professor Choi had to calm everybody down to not disrupt the neighbouring classes, but even he was pleased with the outcome.

“I think it’s safe to say who gets the prize, isn’t it?” Professor Park cleared his throat to hide the smirk that was threatening to spread all over his face. 

It was all surreal. Another good thing happened next and Professor Park also announced that Yunho and Mingi were to be exempted as well since their performance was unique on its own. The four of you shared a wide grin with one another, and before you knew it, your classes for the whole day were also exempted, courtesy of Jongho’s smooth-talking so the four of you could hang out.

“Fuck, man, I didn’t know you could sing like that!” Mingi exclaimed as the five of you started to walk to the parking lot. Since classes were still ongoing, you were free to do and say anything you wanted. “You should be an idol, or something.”

Yeosang put his arm across your shoulder and pulled you closer.  “I should’ve, shouldn’t I?” He grinned. Then, he cleared his throat. “You guys, uh, don’t care to be associated with me, or something?”

“What do you mean?” Mingi frowned, genuinely puzzled. “Do you not like us?”

“N-No! I mean, it’s not that,” Yeosang blanched, making you snort and laugh after. Before he could explain himself, Mingi, ever the people person, slaps Yeosang’s back playfully.

But Yeosang wasn’t the one surprised, it was Mingi. “Woah.” he blurted out. “Your back muscles, you work out too?! Say, mind if I call another friend of mine? I think he’d like to hang out, too.”

You blushed at the imagery that suddenly popped in your head. Yunho gags jokingly while waving his hands in front of him. “Oh, God, I did not want to know about that in your eyes, Y/N,” he barfs. “Also, you have a number one fan now, Yeosang—”

“Sure,” you glared at Yunho before turning to Mingi. “Depends on who's the friend though—”

“Ya! Song Mingi, what the hell did you want?!”

You all turned to the loud source of the voice and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud at Hongjoong who was marching towards your group with a menacing look, until his eyes went to Yeosang again and he snorted in amusement.

“I will never get over what your face looks like. Are you sure you’re not a model?” Hongjoong waved. “Anyway, Mingi texted me to come here.”

Everyone looked at the gentle giant, who was rubbing the back of his neck. “I may or may not have texted him already to come here…”

Yeosang was surprised again when Hongjoong slapped his back like an old friend does when they see them. “So where to? I’m not gonna lie, I’ve been so burnt out by this university thing,” he rolled his eyes. He sees Yeosang’s hold on you and raises a brow. “Woah, are we interrupting something?”

“Maybe,” you replied cryptically.

“Are you guys together or something?” Jongho blurted out, twirling his car keys on his finger. Leave it to Jongho to be blunt as always.

Yeosang possessively wraps an arm all over your waist from behind and plants his chin on your shoulder. You laughed sheepishly at everybody’s bulged out eyes while Yunho started cackling loudly. “It kinda just happened,” you chuckled.

Yeosang looks at Jongho, who had his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You gonna do something about it, dad?” He joked, making everyone laugh.

Jongho rolled his eyes dramatically, pinching his nose bridge. “Not only do we have to deal with all the crazy energy this group will have in the future,” he stared pointedly at an excited Mingi, who was shaking Yunho’s collar. “But we also have to deal with you two eye-fucking each other constantly. Spare me the drama, please.”

Suddenly, Jongho and Yeosang stared at each other, a million emotions written in their eyes. You nudge your boyfriend closer to Jongho, giving him a reassuring nod. He shyly rubs the back of his neck before turning to everybody.

“Uhm, I’d love to have company in my place,” he began, causing Jongho to raise a brow. “I’ll send everybody the address, it’s only a fifteen minute drive from here.”

You were proud of Yeosang since he was trying to branch out of his comfort space and trying to let people in now so he could move forward and not get stuck in the past where he was all alone. 

“You’re you again,” Jongho mumbled softly, sighing. “Can’t say I miss when you were stuck up and walked around like everybody was going to jump on you. You were a major dickhead, Sangie.”

Before Yeosang could reply, he turned to the rest of the group, who were already planning what to do and who should bring the snacks and stuff. “Uh, go ahead and drive on without us,” he gestured to himself and Jongho.

He turned to you with a small, serene smile. You could have cried, he didn’t even need to say anything, he looked so much happier from when you first met him when he threatened you at the library. “You go ahead without me, princess—”

“Princess,” Hongjoong blabbered out, his delight evident in his tone while the other started to jokingly and openly mock you both for being too sweet.

“I have a score to settle with this brute—” he tried to continue.

“I’m literally right here,” Jongho counteracted, holding his hand to his chest as if he was offended.

You hopped and kissed Yeosang in front of everybody, which resulted in a hilarious ruckus before pulling away and dragging Yunho away so you could get in the car with him. You looked back at your boyfriend, subtly giving him a thumbs, mouthing ‘I’m proud at you’ before completely turning around.

Both Yeosang and Jongho watched as everyone’s car started to peel out of the parking lot one by one underneath the red setting sun of the sky. It painted such a beautiful picture and it set the mood for what was about to come.

Yeosang had a small sense of dread woven into his nervousness. To be fair, it would have been odd if he wasn’t nervous, this was the first time he was talking to Jongho after he had pretty much ghosted him for months, disappearing on him like he did with Wooyoung.

“Listen,” he started, his anxiety through the roof. “I know you’re mad and you have the right to be, but I want you to know that I’m very sorry.”

It was now or never, his relationship with Jongho was on the line. He loved you, but he can’t just turn his back completely to the other person he grew up with. Jongho sighed, the sound of it harsh and unwelcoming.

“I am, I still am,” the latter huffed out. Yeosang hated it, but he understood why. “At least you know how to grasp the situation and you’re not in denial anymore. You piss me off so damn much, you know?”

“I understand,” he breathed out, kicking a nearby pebble off of the ground onto nowhere in particular. This was it, he thought, he had lost Jongho forever.

However, he wasn’t expecting a nudge on the shoulder and a friendly ruffle of his hair. He groaned, as self-deprecating as he was with his appearance, he hated his hair being messed  up, and Jongho knew that.

“You’re a goddamn fool,” Jongho shook his head after. He choked out a laugh from his chest. “I’m mad at you for doing this to yourself. I’m mad at you for blaming yourself even though it wasn’t your fault. I’m mad at you for letting those assholes bully you and bring you down.”

“But mostly of all,” Jongho spoke in finality. “I’m mad at you for not letting me help and be there for you when you needed it the most.” 

And with that, Jongho finally smiled, his teeth and gums all baring out like the sunshine for him to see. Finally, the last burden off of his shoulders and chest was finally being lifted away. They both laughed out loud as they both got into their cars, which were coincidentally parked next to each other.

“So, you and Y/, huh?” Jongho smirked, the playfulness that Yeosang knew him to have back on his face. How he missed it so. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, hopping into the driver’s seat and rolling the window down so he could still talk to Jongho. “She’s changed me, you know? I mean, I could tell you all the details—”

“Spare me,” Jongho groaned, honking to stop him from talking. “I get it, but I don’t wanna know all the juicy details of your relationship. Just don’t hurt her, or you’ll get a taste of this.”

He lifted his fists up in the air, waving them around comically and causing Yeosang to laugh out loud so much, his tummy and his sides started to ache and cramp up. This was it, this was all he needed. How had he been such a fool to let all of this go? Suddenly, your face popped up in his mind, and he smiled. He vowed to make you happy, for you had given him so much without knowing and asking for anything in return.

“Where to?” Jongho asked after he turned his car on, the sound of the engine being the background noise of it all. It was so fitting.

“You know my dad’s penthouse? The one near yours?”

Jongho’s eyes bulged out. “That’s where you’ve been staying? Fuck, I should’ve known,” he shook his head. Suddenly, he turned to Yeosang with an impish smirk, the delinquency in his face palpable and hard to miss. “Like the old times?”

Yeosang didn’t get it at first, until Jongho revved his engine, smoke coming out of the exhaust at a faster rate, and he laughed, revving his own engine competitively with a grin. When they were younger, they would race each other anywhere - the streets, a dirt road, anywhere. It wasn’t legal, by all means, because they really were young at one point.

“Loser buys dinner for the entire crew?” Jongho chided, his laughter filling the air.

It was contagious and Yeosang went ahead and pressed on the gas. “Deal.”

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

[havens-iphone]

── backwards and fowards ꫂৎ ; grumpy!hamzah part two

wc ⋮ 3k

authors note ⋮ the past 2 days have been the WORST. im so thankful that my senior resident is understanding and didnt tell the admin i took a personal day off😭💔 if any of yall are in med school, NEVER and i mean NEVER tell the admin ur taking off because ur sick or js need a day off😞 anyway, FINALLY a part 2 that many people have been waiting for!! i asked chatgpt if this makes cuz im so freaking sleep deprived😭😭

your phones shrill ringing shattered the silence, yanking you from restless sleep. disoriented, you blinked at the screen, your vision adjusting to the harsh glow in the darkness of your room.

hamzah.

for a moment, you just stared, your heart pounding against your ribs.

it had been almost three months. three months of radio silence, of watching the group continue on like you had never been a part of it. of feeling like an afterthought.

and now he calls?

a bitter laugh slipped past your lips as your thumb hovered over the screen. every emotion you’d been trying to swallow—anger, hurt, disappointment—rose like a tidal wave. you could feel the weight of all the things he had never said, all the times he had dismissed you like you were nothing but a nuisance, all the nights you spent wondering what you had done wrong.

the phone kept ringing.

and against your better judgment, you answered.

“…what?” your voice was hoarse, laced with exhaustion. you didnt bother masking your irritation.

there was a beat of silence. then—

“you finally picked up.”

hamzahs voice was quiet, but you could still hear the familiar edge, that same indifferent, too-cool tone he always had. like this was nothing. like he hadnt let months go by without a word.

you scoffed. “yeah, and? what do you want?”

a pause. he exhaled sharply, like he was already frustrated. frustrated? as if he had the right.

“i—” he hesitated, and for a second, you thought you heard something almost uncertain in his voice. almost. “look, mandys been worried about you. she wont shut up about how youve been ‘off.’”

you clenched your jaw, gripping the phone tighter. so thats it.

not because he was worried. not because he cared. but because mandy had probably badgered him into checking in.

“you couldve just let her handle it, then,” you snapped, your tone ice-cold. “you clearly didnt give a damn before. why pretend now?”

another pause. you could hear the faint sound of him shifting, like he was uncomfortable. good.

“whats your problem?” hamzah muttered, irritation creeping into his voice. “why are you acting all—”

“all what?” you cut him off sharply, sitting up in bed now. your hands were trembling, but not from nerves—from rage.

like a dam breaking, everything came pouring out.

“all quiet? all distant? gee, hamzah, i wonder why.” your voice shook with suppressed anger. “could it be because i spent months trying to be part of your stupid little group while you treated me like an inconvenience? like i was nothing but an annoying noise you couldn’t wait to shut up? could it be because every time i tried to be nice to you, you made me feel like an idiot for even trying?”

hamzah stayed silent, but you werent done.

“i mean, really, hamzah. you had no problem making it obvious how much you couldnt stand me.” you let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “but i guess that was just me being dramatic, right? just me reading into things?”

you could hear his breathing through the phone. it was uneven now.

“i never—”

“you never what?” you snapped, cutting him off before he could throw out some half-assed excuse. “you never meant to be an asshole? never meant to make me feel like shit every time i spoke? news flash, hamzah—intent doesn’t mean shit when the damage is already done.”

his silence was deafening.

the pain in your chest felt unbearable now, and you hated it—hated that after all this time, he still had the power to make you feel so small. but this time, you weren’t going to let it consume you.

you exhaled slowly, forcing your voice to steady. “listen, if mandys worried, you can tell her im fine. i dont need you checking in just because she asked you to.”

“…its not just mandy.” his voice was lower now, rougher.

you let out another laugh—emptier this time. “dont lie to me.”

“im not lying.”

for the first time in the conversation, his voice carried something unguarded. but you were too tired, too drained to decipher it.

it didnt matter.

there was nothing left to say.

“i dont know what you expect from me, hamzah,” you said, voice softer now, but just as firm. “im not going to keep chasing after someone who clearly doesnt want me around.”

and with that, you hung up.

you slam your phone on the mattress, fingers going right to your temple to massage it.

you swallow the lump in your throat as you let your eyes wander around the room. minutes pass as your mind stays empty.

suddenly, your knocked out of the trance you were in by your phone ringing. expecting it to be hamzah calling again, you let out a frustrated sigh as you reach for the vibrating phone.

the name mandy is illuminated on it. all the tension is relieved from your body as you answer it

"hey mandy.." you sigh, hoping she doesnt bring up the call she 'forced' hamzah to do.

"y/n.. i miss you," she stumbles on her words. "please, come to game night tomorrow? i want my bestfriend back."

your eyes continue to wander the room. your mouth opens, words not coming out just yet.

"fine, ill come." you responded. you could practically hear mandys goofy smile on the other side of the phone.

"thank you, y/n! 8:30 sharp."

you exhale as you hang up, slouching back in bed. slowly, you doze off.

game night was tense.

mandy had convinced you to come, but the moment you stepped into the apartment, you felt it—the weight of unspoken words.

hamzah barely looked at you, his jaw tight, fingers drumming against the table. you werent sure if it was guilt or frustration, and frankly, you didnt care.

you had barely spoken all night, answering only when necessary, until mandy suddenly slammed her drink down on the table.

"thats it," she snapped.

the room went still.

"what the hell is going on" mandy demanded, her gaze flickering between you and hamzah. "and do not even think about playing dumb. i know something happened."

you swallowed hard, looking away. you werent in the mood to hash this out in front of everyone.

but then—

"she hates me now," hamzah muttered.

your head snapped up. "excuse me?"

he let out a humorless laugh, running a hand down his face. "you do, dont you?"

your fingers clenched into fists. "you do not get to act like you are the victim here, hamzah."

mandys eyes widened. "oh, hell no." she turned on hamzah so fast, he barely had time to react. "you absolute dumbass."

hamzah blinked. "mandy—"

"no. shut up." she pointed at him accusingly. "you treated her like shit for months, made her feel like she did not belong, and now you are acting shocked that she does not want to be around you anymore are you kidding me"

hamzahs mouth opened, then shut.

mandy scoffed, crossing her arms. unbelievable. "you act all cold, push her away, and then what expect her to just take it forever?"

the room was dead silent.

you swallowed hard, looking at hamzah. his expression was unreadable, his eyes shadowed with something you could not place. but you were not going to fall for it.

you stood up, smoothing your shirt. "thanks for the invite, mandy, you said quietly. but i think i am done here."

before she could stop you, you grabbed your coat and walked out the door.

hamzah didnt say a word.

and for the first time, you didnt want him to.

it had been a week since that night, and you hadn’t heard from hamzah since.

you told yourself it was for the best. that there was no point in dwelling on someone who never valued you in the first place. and yet, the conversation still echoed in your mind—his voice, rough with something unspoken, mandy’s outrage, the suffocating silence that followed.

you weren’t sure what you expected from him. an apology? acknowledgment? anything?

but hamzah was nothing if not consistent—when faced with discomfort, he avoided it entirely.

so, you decided you would do the same.

or at least, that was the plan.

mandy and you were hanging out, her arms crossed as she fell into step beside you.

“still ignoring him?” she asked casually.

you sighed. “not ignoring. just… done.”

mandy snorted. “okay, but he’s not done.”

you frowned. “what does that mean?”

she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “he’s been weird. like, actually weird. keeps zoning out, barely talks in the group chat, and last night, he left mid-game without a word. that never happens.”

you shrugged, trying to ignore the way your heart clenched. “not my problem.”

mandy gave you a long, knowing look. “no, but you are his problem, apparently.”

you shook your head. “i don’t want to do this, mandy. i don’t want to sit around waiting for some half-assed apology that probably won’t even come.”

mandy was quiet for a moment. then, she nudged you lightly. “you don’t have to wait,” she said. “but if he does try, are you going to listen?”

you didn’t have an answer.

it was late when you heard the knock at your door.

you hesitated, debating whether to ignore it entirely. but something in you already knew who it was.

when you finally opened it, there he was—hamzah, standing in the dim hallway, hands shoved in his pockets.

for the first time in forever, he looked unsure of himself.

“hey,” he muttered.

you leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms. “what do you want?”

he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “i—” he stopped, as if he didn’t know what to say. then, finally— “i’m sorry.”

silence.

you stared at him, waiting for the usual excuses, the dismissive attitude. but none came.

hamzah swallowed, his jaw tight. “i was an asshole. i know that. and i don’t have a good excuse for it.”

that caught you off guard.

your arms loosened slightly. “…okay.”

he let out a breath, as if relieved you hadn’t slammed the door in his face.

“i just—” he looked down, then back at you. “i don’t know how to fix it. i don’t know if i can. but i wanted you to know that i do care. and that i’m sorry for making you think i didn’t.”

the words sat heavy in the air.

and for the first time, it wasn’t just empty noise.

you stared at him for a long moment, your heart aching in a way that felt unbearable.

“you think an apology fixes everything?” your voice was steady, but the weight of your hurt was impossible to hide.

hamzah flinched. “no. i dont.” he exhaled sharply, looking down. “i just—I didnt know how else to—”

“you didn’t know how else to what? treat me like shit?”

his head snapped up, guilt and something raw flashing in his eyes. “i was scared.”

the words were so quiet you almost didn’t catch them.

you blinked. “scared?”

hamzah let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “yeah. pathetic, right? you—” he gestured vaguely at you, frustration evident. “you make me feel things i dont know how to deal with. and instead of being normal about it, i just—” he sighed, hands gripping his hair. “ruined everything.”

your breath caught in your throat.

because now it all made sense. the way he always pushed you away the moment things got too real. the way he lashed out when you got too close.

“you couldve just told me,” you whispered.

hamzah’s jaw clenched. “i dont know how to do that. i dont know how to love someone without feeling like im about to lose myself in it.”

his voice was hoarse now, filled with something you werent sure you'd ever heard from him before—fear.

your walls wavered. because deep down, you knew what he meant.

hamzah swallowed, stepping closer, his voice softer now. “but losing you? that was worse. so much worse.”

the confession hung between you, delicate and fragile.

and god, you wanted to be angry. you wanted to tell him he was too late, that you had already started moving on.

but the truth was, you hadn’t.

not even close.

hamzah hesitated, searching your face. “do i still have a chance?”

your heart clenched. because despite everything, despite the hurt, despite the mess—you already knew the answer.

you sighed, closing your eyes for a brief second. then, finally—

“you better not screw it up this time.”

hamzah let out a shaky breath, his lips twitching into something close to a smile. and when he reached for your hand, this time—

you let him.

hamzah’s fingers hovered over yours, hesitant—like he was afraid you’d pull away. but you didn’t. not this time.

his touch was warm, cautious, as if he couldn’t believe you were still here, still willing to listen, still willing to try.

“youre scared of love?" you murmured, watching him carefully.

his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “yeah.”

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “and you thought being cruel to me would fix that?”

hamzah winced. “i thought if i pushed you away first, it wouldnt hurt as much when you left.” his voice cracked slightly on the last word.

you sucked in a breath, your chest tightening.

“thats the thing, hamzah. i wasnt going to leave,” you whispered, shaking your head. “you were the one who did that.”

a shadow crossed his face, his gaze dropping to the floor. “i know,” he admitted, voice raw. “and i hate myself for it.”

silence stretched between you. the weight of his words settled deep in your bones.

and then, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

“you should hate yourself for it.”

you turned, startled, to see mandy standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. her eyes were sharp, filled with the kind of protective rage only a best friend could have.

hamzah stiffened. “mandy—”

“no. shut up,” she snapped, stepping forward. “i have watched her cry over you for weeks. i’ve watched her doubt herself because of the way you treated her. and now, you think one heartfelt confession is going to fix everything?”

hamzah’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue.

mandy’s gaze softened as she turned to you. “you don’t owe him anything.”

your throat tightened. because a part of you wanted to believe that. a part of you wanted to walk away. but another part—the one that had spent so long wishing for this moment—wasn’t ready to let go.

you looked at hamzah. “i don’t owe you anything,” you echoed, and he flinched at the words. “but… i want to give you another chance.”

his head snapped up, eyes widening slightly.

mandy groaned. “seriously?”

you shot her a look, a small smile tugging at your lips. “hes an idiot,” you admitted. “but hes my idiot.”

hamzah exhaled shakily, a mixture of relief and disbelief crossing his face. “i swear, i wont mess this up.”

mandy rolled her eyes. “you better not. because if you do, i will be the one to kill you.”

a laugh bubbled out of you, light and unexpected. hamzahs lips twitched, and for the first time in months, the tension between you all didn’t feel suffocating.

it felt like something new. something fragile, but real.

hamzah reached for your hand again—this time, without hesitation. and this time, you intertwined your fingers with his.

hamzahs fingers tightened around yours, as if he was afraid you would slip away if he let go. for a long moment, neither of you spoke. the weight of everything that had happened, everything that had been said, hung thick in the air between you.

mandy huffed, crossing her arms. “whatever. i’m not sticking around for the mushy part.” she shot hamzah a sharp look. “but i swear, if you make her cry again, i’ll ruin your life.”

hamzah gave a small, breathless laugh. “noted."

she turned to you, her expression softening. “i’ll be inside. don’t take too long.”

with that, she disappeared back into the apartment, leaving you and hamzah standing in the quiet of the night.

the cold air pressed in around you, but his hand in yours was warm. grounding.

you swallowed, shifting slightly. “so… what now?”

hamzah exhaled, his free hand raking through his hair. “i don’t know,” he admitted. “but i know i want to do it right this time. i want to be better. for you.”

your heart twisted at the raw honesty in his voice.

“you hurt me, hamzah,” you said softly. “a lot.”

his grip on your hand tightened, his gaze dropping. “i know,” he whispered. “and i hate myself for it. i don’t—i don’t deserve another chance.”

you let out a shaky breath, studying him. for once, he wasn’t hiding behind his usual indifference. there was no coldness, no walls. just hamzah, stripped of all the defenses he had spent so long building.

“maybe you don’t,” you said honestly. “but i want to give you one anyway.”

his eyes snapped up to yours, searching, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

his fingers twitched against yours before he lifted his free hand to cup your cheek, his touch hesitant, almost reverent. “are you sure?”

your chest ached at the quiet vulnerability in his voice.

instead of answering, you leaned in, closing the space between you.

hamzah sucked in a breath, his body going completely still as your lips brushed against his.

and then—

he melted.

his hand slid into your hair, his other arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer, as if trying to make up for all the times he had pushed you away. the kiss was slow, lingering, filled with unspoken apologies and promises.

when you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested against each other, your breaths mingling in the cold air.

hamzah let out a soft, almost disbelieving laugh. “i really don’t deserve you.”

you smiled, brushing your fingers against his cheek. “probably not.”

he huffed, but the corner of his lips twitched up, and for the first time in a long time, it felt like maybe—just maybe—this could be something real. something worth fighting for.

tags ⋮ @tearsinmylatinaeyes345 @lil-elliesgf @lydiasfalling @f1wh0recom @cheesecakeluver

[unconventional-lawnchair]

" Dinner Party "

Part 1

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Potter!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: The Potters throw a dinner party; Mattheo meets the family}

Wc- 4142

Cw: Use of {Y/N}, Harry is a bit of an arse, cussing, sexual themes cussing, just a bunch of fluff and yearning}

Taglist- @helendeath @2dloveshp @hatakemrs

“Well.” Lily spoke slowly. “Look at us now.” 

Lily looked over at you just in time for you to glance up and meet her eyes. She smiled sweetly before she continued. “I think its sweet.”

…

The tension in the room was slowly beginning to ease. You couldn't help but feel a bit of hope grab hold of your chest. Your eyes flickered between your mother and your father. James, of course, ever protective, still held a look of drastic offense as Lily spoke up again. “I know you're a smart girl, I raised you myself. I knew your partner would be a sore subject.” 

She reached her hand over and placed it over James’ leg. She smiled at him, a look to try and convey everything running threw her head at once. They are kids. Our angel will be okay.

“Why? Did you.. not trust my judgment?” You asked cautiously, your hands slowly fisting the cloth of your pants. 

Lily quickly shook her head. “No, no, nothing like that. Quite the opposite.” She mused and turned to look at James who had closed his eyes and began to even his breaths.

“We used to joke you were perhaps meant to be a Hufflepuff. Darling, you have always seen the best in people, even when others couldn't really see it.” Lily offered and James scoffed. Your mother gave a small grimace before she spoke carefully. “Love is complicated. I can attest to that.” She began, eyeing James as if warning him to challenge her. 

“But love is beautiful. That night, at dinner, was the first time I've ever seen you talk back to us. I was distraught, and I am sorry I reacted the way I did.” She began to fiddle with his pant leg between her fingers. Speaking before you could continue. “It was immature. And if this boy puts so much fire in you, I want to at least meet him.”

Your body stiffened and your eyes widened. Looking between your father and mother as you stammered and tried to stutter out something. “M-meet you guys? We've only been dating a few months now.” You tried to defend.

You loved Mattheo, but he wasn't exactly house trained. He was raised by a house elf and saying the Malfoy’s tried to help raise him would be an exaggeration at the least. He could be polite, charming, he was well mannered when he wanted to be, as he had a smile that could take breaths away. 

But he was also Mattheo Riddle, and the idea of putting him in a room with your father, the other most hotheaded boy you knew, was a terrifying one. Mattheo didn't take kindly to being reminded of his father. It felt cruel to put him in a boxed up room with the very people his parents tried to kill. Not to mention, he got emotional when it came to families. 

You acted like you didn't notice at first, for Merlin's sake you were head over heels for this boy. You would sit in his dorm room, bare to your core and tangled together under the sheets. He would be holding you from behind like you were a vice, telling you about his dreams of a family with love like yours. When you would mention your family, he’d grow tense but stay his stoic self when you would ask. 

It wasn't hard to read him like a book, especially since Mattheo basically read it for you. He had changed a lot in the last few months you'd been with him. You used to fight horribly the first month. He was still so used to his single status, he hadn't really had positive expectations set on him. You explained to him what you wanted, you were patient, then he started to talk and communicate with you more efficiently, copying your behaviors to mimic your maturity. He loved how happy you looked when he improved himself, the praise sick boy wanting any bit you'd give him. When he told you he quit smoking, he let you drown him in praise and kisses, using withdrawal as an excuse for him being more handsy with you.

You soon learned from his friends that he had quit months ago, when you first told him you hated them, the cheek. He didn't even have the sense to look guilty when it came to light, just seemed so damn proud of himself.

In all honesty, it was hard not to adore him. Even when he was being a little arse. You had fallen hard for the loaded gun, and he obeyed you like you were the trigger. That being said.. he was still Mattheo, meeting your parents seemed like a bigger step than when he would drag you under his sheets with a silencing charm. 

“What? Don't want him to meet us?” James spoke up, and you snapped out of your thoughts. He sounded almost hopeful, like you weren't entirely serious about him. You gave him a pout and Lily squeezed his thigh tighter. 

“Do you think it's too soon, lovely?” Your mother asked patiently and you bit your lip. The last thing you wanted to do was lie to your mother. Lying to James was easy, he was a bit of a push over when it came to you, and you never lied about anything truly groundbreaking. But Lily, she had been your best friend for years. She was your mother, your confidant, and she knew more about you than anyone else. Probably helps that she's known you since you were welcomed home.

“... I am just scared.” You admitted and James’s expression shifted to soften. He sat up a bit and Lily gave him a soft smile.

“Why?” Your mother prodded and you curled your knees to your chest. 

“Just.. he's never had this.” You gestured around you. “He can be a bit.. reactive when it comes to stress?” You tried to offer the information carefully and James frowned hard.

“Reactive as in?” He leaned closer and your eyes flashed open wide. 

“No, Merlin, he would never. Not to me.” You tried to defend and the look on your mothers face made you realize what you said.

“That's not- no, I don't mean it like that.” You quickly tried to back track. Lily sent James a smirk. 

James looked at her with a furrowed brow and a slight pout. “What?”

“Just reminds me of how I tried to defend my choice of partner to my parents. Then, to your parents.” Lily laughed and James bit his cheek but smiled to see his wife so happy. You watched the two and your heart throbbed a bit. You loved your parents so much. You wanted that with Mattheo. Were you moving too fast? It was likely. Could this go horribly wrong? Most definitely. 

“Okay.” You spoke up and your parents turned to you “I'll invite him.”

~~~

Mattheo was at the Lestrange manor alone, as usual, but this summer was far different. He usually would busy himself with his friends, going to pointless balls the Malfoy’s insisted he attend, sneaking off with pureblood girls he didn't even remember the names of. Or better, going drinking with his mates from school.

This summer was killing him. The silence of the manor used to bother him before, every footstep sounded like thunder, every breath he made echoed in his ears, but now? Merlin. You came from a loud family, you didn't know the pain of it. When he was with you, the louder things weren't always bad. You always talked a bit louder than him, played music in his dorm with his unused radio, talked to him while you ran your fingers through his hair. It was easy to like the louder things now. He hated quiet.

The silence just reminded him you weren't there. He didn't even remember when his nights spent alone with witches of different backgrounds became nights of desperate yearning for you. Neither of you had said it yet, but even if you were just talking now, he didn't intend to keep it that way. He didn't want anyone else. He couldn't have anyone else. And the idea of you with someone else? He'd rather die.

Theodore Nott had been lettering him to try and get him out of the hell house, but the idea of you lettering him back when he wasn't home ate him up inside. Pansy called him whipped, when he lettered her to ask if he had done something wrong. ‘It’s only been two weeks, let her settle.’ Out of all of his friends, you clicked with her the easiest. It didn't help that he got a bit jealous when you talked to his male friends. He's never cared this much.

He was sure you've had to have hexed him.

Slipped him Amortentia.

Or soaked your entire body in it. 

Maybe it was mixed into that lovely perfume of yours? 

He groaned out and covered his face, leaning back from his desk into his seat. He let his arms go slack at the sides of his chair and looked at the ceiling. He was pathetic, but he wasn't scared of it this time. He liked feeling weak, if it was for you. He bit his bruised bottom lip and turned to look at the window. What would you think of him now? Sitting about with nothing to do but need you. He needed the heavenly haze you gave him. He liked to worship you, like you were all he was beyond his family. 

Two days after he had sent that letter, he was starting to wonder if you had realized your mistake. That being with your family reminded you that Mattheo Riddle was no one. Someone who should remember he was no one. Not worth the time you spared him day to day, that he was just some phase. He didn't know if he could recover from you. He might just throw the towel in if you didn't want him. Who could recover from a love like a prayer? A love that made him think of you like it was a threat. You were a threat. To his sanity. To his reputation. To his status. 

And he was a threat to you. Obsession, he had to agree with Draco. You are an obsession.

His thoughts were thrown out when he noticed something coming into view through his window. He nearly knocked his chair over as he stumbled over to open it. The Potter’s Owl.

~~~

“You're invited to the Potter’s Residence for our first dinner party of the year,”

Mattheo thumbed over the invitation in hand. He was shocked when he first read it, not only did he never expect to be invited to the Potter’s, he definitely didn’t ever expect you to tell your parents enough about him to be invited. He was excited, thumbing the invitation over and over.

He had groomed himself properly, he was in a button up shirt and a green vest, his hair was almost tamed. He was holding the invitation, raising his knuckle to knock on the door.

You snapped to attention from where you were looking in the mirror. You were wearing a deep forest green dress, the one you knew Mattheo loved, and your dad seemed to take that as a personal offense, dressed in his red dress shirt that matched your mothers dress.

“I still don't like this.” Sirius grumbled from his seat on the couch, and Remus rolled his eyes from where he leaned in the doorway. “A bit late, darling.” He mumbled as he watched you walk down the hall to open the door.

Lily requested Harry and James set up the table, leaving just you and her in the immediate room.

You took a deep breath, looking at your mom before she nodded and you turned back. Opening the door you were a bit startled to see Mattheo so put together, you had to remember that he was raised as pureblood royalty, you just never figured you'd see him so done up. You bit your lip a bit and he chuckled at this, snapping you out of your daze. You quickly stepped aside and he walked in, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against his form, not having noticed Lily yet. 

“I missed you, beautiful.” He whispered, leaning forward to kiss you. The second his lips touched yours, you sighed. Like he unwove every bit of your tense frame with just his touch. You couldn't remember a thing, not why you were so worried, where you were, and how your mother was watching you. For ten whole seconds, with just his soft careful kiss, he had made you dumb. He took a sharp breath and sighed after you, stepping closer.

Lily noticed the signs as it got a bit deeper than just a greeting kiss, and she quickly cleared her throat. You quickly pulled away in a fluster, and Mattheo just followed your lips to give you another quick peck, before he pulled back and gave Lily his dazzling look. “Mrs. Potter, right?” He mused and you had to catch a whine in your throat when he stepped back. He held his hand out and Lily moved to shake it, but instead he took her palm and kissed the back of her wrist. “You have a lovely home, ma'am. I can't say I'm surprised, {Y/N} had taken on your style.” He mused and Lily smirked at him.

“So you've been to my daughter’s dorm, hm?” She asked cheekily and his eyes widened and his face dropped. Like a guilty puppy. “I-”

Lily laughed and waved her hand. “Please, don't feel the need to explain. I'm only joking.”

Mattheo blinked a few times and slowly smiled. You and Lily were a lot alike. It looked like he had an ally already. He let go of her hand and stood up straighter. Waving his hand a bundle of Orchids appeared and he offered them to her. “Well, thank you for welcoming me.”

Your heart swelled at the interaction. Maybe tonight wouldn't be horrible. 

“Riddle, hm?” 

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

Sirius stood in the doorway of the parlor room, staring down at Matheo with a harsh glare. Mattheo met his gaze with his usual dissociative state. “Sirius Black, sir? It's nice to meet you.” He mused and offered him his hand. Sirius looked down at his hand then back to Mattheo. Riddle sighed and moved his hand down to his side, a bit startled when you walked up and took it for yourself. 

He smiled at you like a love sick fool, and Sirius felt his lip twitch at the look.

Remus seemed to see it too, ever the helpless romantic, he bit his cheek. Trying to hide a smile. 

Now, Remus despised the idea of you bringing a Riddle into the family. He hated the idea you would possibly, one day carry the last name of the monster that was Tom Riddle. But those thoughts left his head when he saw how you rested your head on his shoulder, your fingers playing with his, like a practiced art, knowing exactly how to soften the blow of rejection from your uncle.

Suddenly, Mattheo was giving that bright smile again, and you felt a bit cocky to be the one to give it to him. Pressing your lips to his shoulder and you peaked over it but just stared at his profile.

“Nice to meet you, again.” Remus mused, offering his hand and Mattheo’s smile only grew, taking his hand and shaking it firm. “Thank you, Professor.”

He shook his head. “Remus is fine.”

Sirius gawked at him in full offense, having lost himself to the boy's charm. 

Before Sirius could make a snappy comment, Lily spoke up. “Well, I'm sure you're hungry, let's go get you fed, hm?”

“Yes ma'am.” Mattheo responded in kind, before glancing down at you by his shoulder and wetting his lips. Leaning down to steal another kiss, Sirius scoffed as he passed you two to get to the table. Remus followed behind him, as Lily waved the two to their seats. 

“Not much for a dinner party, hm?” He mumbled to you and you gave a small laugh. 

“Not all of us are as extravagant as your family.” You teased and he gave a wolfish smirk. “I think you forget, your father is James Potter, famous for his parties if I remember.” He teased and you rolled your eyes before biting your lip. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Not to mention, even if he seems to hate me, Sirius is my family.”

You narrowed your eyes before your eyebrows jumped upward as you pieced together his family tree. Right. His mother was Sirius’s cousin. It suddenly sunk into you just why Sirius seemed to be taking this so seriously. Mattheo was a mix of the two things he hated most, his family and Voldemort. Must be hard to believe anything good could come from those two things.

You shoved the thought away. He could get over himself. You weren't going to throw away everything you and Mattheo were because Sirius couldn't get over his bias. Your father too.

Once you and Mattheo walked into the dining room, it seemed to be going well. There wasn't much conversation between Mattheo and your family, you found yourself talking to each other. Updates on your lives, him whispering how much he missed you, taking every opportunity to drown you in his affections. You were a flustered mess, but smiling the brightest you've had in days. It was like an addiction, his attention. 

You didn't notice Lily's attention on you two, too wrapped up in Riddle. He was the same, looking at you like you were the last person in the world, like you were worth falling for. He sure hoped so, because he was approaching the ground rapidly as your eyes danced his features. It reminded her of something, turning to look at James and was met with the same look as he tried to start up another Quidditch conversation with her. She simply rolled her eyes fondly. How could he not see what was happening?

“So.” Lily spoke up after her conversation with James flickered out. She spoke in a tone that demanded attention. “How did you two meet? When did this start?” She offered and Mattheo bit his cheek and looked at you, for the hundredth time that night. You smiled and looked back at your mom.

“Well, Professor McGonagall asked me to help a student study during lunch periods. I had no clue who it was but I figured it couldn't hurt.” You mused, conveniently not bringing up the bribe. “Then it kind of.. changed. Eventually it just became casual study dates. Like one, I was teaching him how to summon a patronus and-” You lit up as bright as a star as you began your story, before Harry scoffed. Your face fell a bit and you looked over at Harry with a furrowed brow.

Mattheo had to resist the urge to snap at him for taking away such a view.

He looked up at you with a glare. “I've just never met a Death Eater who could use a patronus is all.”

There was a thick silence that filled the room as your jaw went slack. You tried to figure out a way to steer the conversation elsewhere, mouth growing dry.

Lily tried to speak up but Mattheo beat her to it. “Sorry to disappoint, still haven't it seems.” He cheeked and you looked back at him with a laugh. Your mother gave Harry a look that certainly meant danger for him later. Harry didn't even seem to care, just scoffed.

“He summoned a Fox.” You informed your mother and her mouth fell open a bit, her smile brightening. 

“Is that true?” He prodded Mattheo and he nodded. “Yes ma'am.”

Lily looked at James with raised eyebrows, amused, and he shook his head before clicking his tongue. “So. Heard you were in the Quidditch team, what position?” James finally and reluctantly joined the conversation. 

“Beater, sir.” Mattheo mused and smirked, eyeing Harry from the corner of his eye. “Seems someone still miffed over the bludger he took a few weeks ago.”

“Your team cheated.” Harry challenged quickly and Mattheo gave him a wolfish smirk. “Did we? Or is that the only way you'd accept that we got the cup?”

“Watch it, Riddle. I'll make a fool of you next season.” Harry quipped and it actually sounded almost playful. You gave a scoff and Mattheo chuckled. Figures they'd bond over Quidditch of all things.

“Really? A beater?” James spoke up and Mattheo looked over to him with a nod. 

“Sirius was a beater too, we were a fierce team.” James mused and leaned forward. “We created this move…”

Their voices faded out, and you smiled at the scene. It was cordial, almost friendly, as the men at the table talked about the sport with enthusiasm. Well, all safe for Remus who started talking to your mother about a new book recommendation. You just watched how Mattheo seemed to fall into place in your family so easily, and how happy he seemed about it. 

Way too soon, the night was over, and Mattheo was leaving. You and your parents walked him to the door, and he turned to face you.

“Thank you again, Mrs. Potter, the food was amazing. And Mr. Potter, thank you for allowing me to come over.” He mused and your mom shook her head. “Please, anytime sweetheart. Call me Lily.” 

Then, much to your surprise. “Call me James.” Your father mused and took his hand into a firm shake.

Mattheo had this startled look on his face, thrown for a loop before he quickly recovered. “Y-yes sir. I mean James, yes James.”

You giggled and before Mattheo could be given any more surprises, you walked up and hugged his arm. “I'll walk him out of the apparition wards.”

“Don't be gone too long-” James began before Lily covered his mouth and shooed you both off. “Go! We'll be here.” She reassured you.

You pulled Mattheo out the door, leaving Lily to smirk up at James and he groaned. “Okay, the kid isn't that bad.”

“You too!?” Sirius shouted from across the house and Lily laughed. 

~~~

You walked with Mattheo, managed to get just a few yards from the house before his lips were on yours. He had stopped completely, wrapping his arms around your waist and almost toppled you over when he leaned over your frame so easily. You let your hands slide up to his biceps and he gave a low groan, pulling away before he got too far. 

You took a sharp puff of air and steadied your breathing. Your eyes met his deep dark ones. He was looking at you with something so familiar and yet it was hungrier than you'd ever seen before. “Mattheo-”

“Tonight was amazing.” He whispered and took your lips again. This time, you actually managed to prepare yourself. Your hands slipped behind his neck and into his gelled hair. Pouting into the kiss and he smirked. “What?”

“Your hair. I hate it like this.” You mumbled into his lips, not wanting to break the kiss. Mattheo laughed and pulled his wand from his pocket, waving it to return his hair to his naturally fluffy glory. 

“That better?” He teased, giving a toothy smirk as he watched you lick your lips clean of him. 

“Much.” This time, you started the kiss, earning a low yelp from him. He chuckled and pushed you against the wall of your fathers property. Hands roaming lower, as you tilted your head back, his new target being your neck.

“You’ve been driving me mad all night, ya know that?” He breathed against your collarbone, fingers fiddling with the end of your dress. “Had to look your father in the eye tonight, and you still wore this? All I could think of was the last time you wore it.” 

You gave a low gasp when his fingers lipped just under the small skirt. “M-Mattheo-”

“I've missed you, beautiful. The last two weeks were torture, you know that? Know what you do to me?” He mumbled against your skin. Your eyes grew hazy the more he spoke. Like he was controlling you with his words. Suddenly, his head snapped up and he looked just past you. 

“Huh. Do you guys have a dog?” He asked and you snapped out of your trance when you heard a loud roar from behind you. “And.. a stag? You have dogs and deer on your property?” He asked and you simply covered your face and gave a loud groan.

“Dad!!”

[lady-lauren]

❥ RYOMEN SUKUNA X FEM! READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 2k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: Cannibalism (Sukuna just takes a few bites of you, as a treat), Sukuna has two cocks and four arms, major dub-con, blood, Sukuna is a sadist, double penetration (vaginal and ass fucking), degradation, branding (his name on your skin), squirting, belly bulge, overstimulation, creampie

Dead Dove Do Not Eat. I’m serious. Sukuna eats more than just pussy.

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

“Oh you poor, poor little thing,” his maniacal mouth coos, sweat shimmering against the black lines of his body like an abyss, “does it hurt? I bet it does.”

It’s a rarity that Sukuna plays with his toys, normally too insatiable to take his time and savor. But you’re just so sweet, juicy with fear and plump with arousal. 

He’ll have to taste the whole menu to decide which doughy part of you is his favorite. 

You’re spread open like a feast, two hands prying your legs apart while another keeps your pesky hands locked above your head. Sorcerers are tricky—one lapse in judgment and you’ll be squirming out of his bed, throwing annoying techniques at him like you really think you stand a chance.

Perhaps you won’t, though. Your precious cunt is drooling for him, even as his fourth hand digs a claw into the flesh of your thigh. Blood swells to the surface, spilling in a streak down your skin. So close to where your pussy is stretched open, where your tight little hole is fluttering like it's scared. 

“Just a few little bites, m’kay? Then maybe, just ~maybe~ I’ll let you go.”

“H-how many?” 

He’s surprised you can still speak. 

“Hmmmm,” his voice rumbles in the thick confines of his throat as he ponders. Carmine irises flicker over the shape of you. “This looks good.” Sukuna taps his bloody fingertip to the underside of your breast, pressing into the gooey fat. “This too.” He traces a sharp fingernail across the juncture of your neck and shoulder, eyes sparking when you swallow. “And I already got started down here.”

Sukuna digs a claw back into your sore thigh, using the barest hint of his strength to rip into your tender muscle. 

Your scream makes a satisfied shiver run down all of his limbs, both cocks throbbing. They twitch together, hot and angry, red tips leaking down his shafts.

Licking his lips, he admires the sugary shine of your subcutaneous tissue, peeled back to reveal bloody insides of your flesh. Just a little rip, a stringy bit of meat that’s too easy to fully tear off and slide between his teeth. 

Sukuna swallows and the taste of you makes him want to cum.

“Mhmmmm, fuck, what did you do to get so flavorful, hm? Or have you always been so sweet?” 

He watches you whimper and wiggle, nipples hard and puffy. 

“You like this?” The grin that curls around the tattoos on his cheeks is sickening. “What a fucking delightful little human. I’ve never gotten lucky enough to find one of the sluts.”

He tests his theory under the safety net of knowing that pain makes you numb. Releasing your wrists, he revels in how you simply let the weight of freedom fall into his mattress. You aren’t going anywhere.

Your poor little pussy is creaming, squishy and wet and begging. He likes the way it smells—tangy, thick honey. It almost overpowers the iron scent of dripping blood. 

“‘Suppose you need some attention. Don’t want you passing out before I’m done.”

You gratify him with a high-pitched moan as he swirls two fingers against your cunt, knuckles sticky in your slick. Easy, it’s far, far too easy for him to slip his digits into you. Normally there’s resistance, like human pussies are trying to push him out, yet you’re sucking him in.

“What should I eat next? Pick for me.”

All the emotions that filter over your face are foreign to him. He’s not sure what you’re thinking, but can smell some sick mixture of pain and pleasure rippling over your skin as you weakly buck your hips. His fingers sink deeper into your cunt, claws tickling against soft spots that make you mewl. 

“C’mon,” he tsks, “don’t make me wait.”

Your little gulp is so cute, “My c-cunt…”

“Oh, don’t get greedy. Dessert comes last. Try again.”

You’re almost shy as you drag one of your hands from above your head, trailing down to cup one of your breasts and squeeze. “Here?”

“My, my, those tits do look delicious.” 

He shoves a third finger into your weeping hole as he latches his teeth to the fat of your breast. 

He sucks, tastes your sweat, licks at the salt. As the first bite hits his taste buds, blood trickling down the corners of his lips, his eyes go wide in astonishment. He wasn’t expecting such a burst of flavor, like jellied candy popping in his mouth.

Your shrieks are just fodder, background noise, as he hums in delight and sucks at the viscid lining of your skin.

Fuck. With the next bite he wants to be inside you, feel the tremors of your wrecked body around his dicks. 

The wound bleeds down your stomach as he pulls away, swallowing and licking along his sharp teeth to gather the remnants. 

“Aren’t you just such a treat?” 

Sukuna swats your cheek, quick with his nails angled like a cat so he can scratch at your skin. Your head lolls to the sheets, panting, damaged tits heaving as you try to find sanity. It’s too late for that. He’s going to break your body and mind, binge in your honeyed sorrow. 

“Wakey, wakey, little human. You won’t want to miss what comes next.”

Your brows pinch as he draws his messy fingers from your cunt, only to wrap a hand around each of his cocks so he can pop both heads into your holes. 

That wakes you up. 

“C-can’t, n-not both.” 

“Oh please, you’re all soft and squishy. Girls are made to be fucked.”

The swell of your belly as he pushes in makes him even hungrier. Your ass strangles his cock, the rim wet with the drippings of your slick. He hates that he has to be careful. A too strong push could split you on his dicks, and he’s having far too much fun to be devouring your guts just yet. 

But he’s not gentle. All four hands latch onto you—legs held so wide it’s nearly obscene, the other two sinking into your rib cage and smearing in blood so he can pull you down until you’re impaled. 

The squeeze of you is divine. 

The heavy mass of his cocks stretches your walls thin. He can feel the outline of both his dicks as he starts to thrust, mushroom heads catching on one another before bullying in deep.

It’s no surprise that you’re crying—humans always cry, sob, beg. It is perplexing and oh so satisfying, however, that you’re blubbering because you feel good amidst all your pain and suffering. Your hips are rolling back to meet his thrusts, pussy convulsing every time his pelvis grinds into your clit. 

Your bleeding and broken body is devouring him just like he swallowed your flesh. Your gooey pussy is sucking around him, dragging along his shaft like lips gobbling him whole. 

The hiss he releases is sinful, like a snake coiling as his tattooed thighs presses you deeper into the crimson mess he’s created. He likes the way the ichor stains your skin. He takes a bloodied hand and curls it around your thigh, fingers long enough to overlap and color your flesh like a brand. He could crunch your bones beneath his palms, break you into pieces if he wanted.

“Do you want me to, ah fuck—” he loses his train of thought when the sound of his voice makes your ass clench, ribbed walls wedging around his second cock. “Never fucking mind giving you the option. I’m keeping you. Alive. Want your body warm every time I fuck it.”

The look in your eyes is so hopeful and darling that it almost makes him feel something. 

Sukuna pummels into your gaping holes and leans over your body to sink his teeth into your neck. He bites hard, hard enough to make you weep and wail and to remind him that you’re only here to be devoured.

He rips tender flesh and digests it, drinking down more of your blood as you start to coo from the stinging pain and numbing ecstasy of having him ravage your sensitive little pussy and ass. You get so tight around him in your anguish, all fucked out and eaten like you’re nothing but a willing piece of meat. 

His wanton tongue laves over your marred skin, sliding through blood and sinew. Humans always were his favorite. Only now he can’t remember what any of them tasted like before you.

Your cunt is slobbering, creaming, and he’s pretty sure he hears your weak little heart stop beating for a split moment before you cum. 

“God what a good fucking slut,” he purrs, eyes rolling back in his head as he feels both of your channels compress around his lengths as you break. “Let’s make you do that again.”

You’re so overstimulated from the bliss of his cocks thrusting in, out, in, deeper, faster that all the suffering he inflicted is null. You cum again because it’s so easy to make you, one of his hands pinching your swollen clit until you squirt all over his toned stomach and your belly bulges from the shape of his inflating cock.

“Ohh I like that. More. Give me more.”

Two hands keep your kicking legs pinned to the bed as another torments your clit and the last is gathering your slick. He runs his fingers over the grooves of his abs and up to his pecs, finally flicking his fingertips into his mouth to eat your cum like sauce. 

His cocks swell at the flavor of you, tart and salty like some kind of rich delicacy. 

Sukuna continues to stuff you full, over and over again, pressing in until it seems like you’ll pop. His balls are bruising against your body with every brutal thrust. You’re babbling and messy, coated in slick and blood and tears and spit. It’s almost disgusting, yet he has to admit you’re just so damn pretty and warm that he thinks it’s cute. Like a pet. 

He rubs at your engorged clit until you’re squirting and screaming again, babbling about how it’s too much. Only it’s not enough, not for him. He’s close to the edge and knows just how to get himself off. 

Sucking at a clawed fingertip, Sukuna eyes a soft patch of skin below your bouncing, intact tit. The other is still seeping, his fresh bite etched into the globe.

“One last thing,” he smirks, crazed and nearly fucked out, “gotta let everyone know these slutty holes belong to me.”

The sharp tip of his nail digs into your meat, slicing the characters of his name as if he was signing a gory, whorish picture. His smile nearly splits his skull at the sight, all bloody and gross and his.

“~K-Kunaaa…” hearing his broken name out of your stupid little slut mouth is the last straw, some primal instinct to claim his prize overwhelming his senses and making him explode. 

Cum bursts from your seams all while bloating in your belly, your ass, pearly white strings glistening against all your fluids. He feels relieved as he releases into you, hot balls pulsing as he feeds his seed into your gummy depths. 

You’re so full of his cum that another orgasm crests over you, making you tremble and quake and scream. He relishes your final squeezes, letting your cunt and ass suction around his cocks until he’s milked dry. 

“I fucking love whores.” Just because he can, he pushes his hand into your bulging belly, laughing as cum gushes from where your pussy is cinched around his shaft. You whimper, twisting against the hands holding your thighs open. 

“No no no,” he wags a finger at you, “I still haven’t had dessert.”

He wonders if he’ll be able to stop himself from sinking his teeth into the delicate, syrupy folds of your cunt. Depends on just how good you taste.

[mylovesstuffs]

“It’s not cute” — Choi Seungcheol

Request: hey, Celeste!!! how are you doing? I'm so glad your requests are open!

i wanted to request something (in whatever form you feel most inspired to): reader having essential tremors (it's an actual condition im not making it up 😭✋) and being frustrated about it, maybe lashing out or breaking down one day. the fact that everyone points it out and sometimes joke abt it, etc. angst + comfort , maybe? also i'd like it to be w cheol or wonu, but tbh any of them is absolutely fine!

tysm <333

It starts with eyeliner and ends in a breakdown. The world doesn’t understand what it’s like to live in a body that won’t always obey, tired of laughing first before someone else can. But Seungcheol doesn’t need to understand it all, he just holds your trembling hands like they’ve always been steady, and loves you like you’ve never been less.

Genre: Non-idol au, established relationship, angst and comfort, introspective slice of life and character study

Pairing: Seungcheol × fem!reader

Content: Essential tremors [aka benign tremor, familial tremor, and idiopathic tremor], emotional breakdown, eyeliner symbolism [bc girlyhood], comfort from a loving partner who is choi seungcheol, no judgment, warm arms and understanding hearts, one-sided flashbacks to bullying/teasing, reader struggling with internalized shame, reassurance, love that stays

Content warning: Mentions of medical condition [essential tremors], anxiety, childhood bullying, ableist microaggressions, internalized frustration and self-doubt, crying, cursing once or twice, one emotionally charged breakdown. No explicit content.

Word count: 921 words

A/N: It was supposed to be shorter... about 400 words like a drabble, though I still think it's drabble but I was hoping for it to either be 400-500 words or 1k 😔

For my sweet anon—i hope this gives you even a sliver of the comfort you were looking for. This one was written with a lot of heart at like... 2:46 am when i should’ve been asleep but cheol brainrot said otherwise. To anyone else who reads this and relates even a little: your exhaustion and frustration is valid, and your hands deserve to be held gently too. I experience a slight tremor as well, though I believe it’s genetic since it runs in my family. According to my doctor, mine is primarily triggered by stress and anxiety [I was under treatment back in October during a period when my mental health went really down]. I’ve been prescribed different medications since then, not specifically targeted for tremors, but the tremor was listed as one of the symptoms being addressed in the medication guidelines. While I might not fully relate to this experience, as my condition hasn’t been formally diagnosed and doesn’t really interfere with my daily life, I still hope I was able to do this piece justice. Also, huge thanks to Calli @hhaechansmoless for beta-ing. As always, we run anyway ! (￣▽￣)ノ♡

It starts small, and it always does; a dropped spoon, a tremble in your fingers while pouring water. The slightest bit of shake that you'd think it could pass unnoticed, but that, people always notice, and never don’t comment on.

“Why are you always shaking?”

“You nervous or something?”

“You should drink less coffee.”

“Aw, you’re like a baby deer.”

Haha, it is so funny to you at this point. But today, it feels entirely different to you, it's like you're not yourself anymore. You’re tired, and you just want to put your eyeliner on, but the line goes jagged again. And for some reason, that tiny thing becomes the last straw of the day.

You slam the eyeliner on the counter and nearly knock over everything else with your unsteady hands. “God, I’m so sick of this!” you hiss. “Why can’t I just be normal for five fucking seconds?”

The bathroom door creaks open and you already feel Seungcheol behind you. “Hey,” he says softly. “What’s going on?”

You blink back your unshed tears, but still they betray you like everything else lately. “It’s not cute, Cheol. It’s not quirky, or funny, or something you get to joke about. I hate it. I hate how I shake. I hate how people treat me like it’s some personality trait. It’s a condition, and I’m tired.” Your voice cracks, and so does your composure, and you sink down onto the closed toilet lid, face in your hands, breath shaky just like your very own fingers. The way they’ve done for so long, it doesn’t even surprise you anymore.

All you expect right now, is silence. But instead big, calloused, warm hands wrap gently around yours.

Shaking or not, he brings them to his lips and kisses your knuckles, softly and slowly. “I know it’s not cute when people don’t take it seriously,” he says, kneeling in front of you. “And I’m sorry if anyone’s ever made you feel like you have to pretend it’s no big deal.”

You look up with your glassy eyes and trembling lips. “I’ve never once thought less of you for it,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to be ‘normal’ to be everything I love.” A small sob leaves your lips, and he pulls you into a hug, his arms secure around you, voice a low hum against your hair. “You can be frustrated. You can hate it, but you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here, even if your hands shake every day for the rest of your life, I’ll still hold them just like this.”

You want to believe him, even as your fingers tremble. In fact, you do believe him; believe that he doesn’t want to let go, that he won’t.

But there’s something bitter lodged deep in your chest, a heaviness that doesn't disappear just because someone holds you through it, because you've heard this before. Variations of it. Words that sounded like comfort, but were laced with pity, gestures that looked like care, but never stayed long enough to be safe.

You remember being younger and dropping your spoon in front of classmates during recess. The laughter and the mock sympathy haunted you for years and they still does. “Are you scared?” they'd tease. You weren’t; not then at least. You didn’t even know what was happening, and why your body betrayed you when all you wanted was to be still.

And now, years later, it’s not even the tremor that hurts most, it’s what comes along with it without your consent. The way people watch, the way they assume it’s your fault, the way you're constantly being explained—to others, to yourself, that you’ve become a walking explanation.

“You know, she has this thing—”

“It’s not that big of a deal—”

“She’s always been like that—” You’re always like that.

It chips away at you, little by little, and you start adjusting your life to avoid the gaze. No eyeliner on days you feel particularly self-conscious, two hands to hold a cup, even if it makes you look ridiculous, rehearsing how you’ll brush it off when someone points it out again; laughing before they do, so it seems like you're okay with it.

You’ve weaponized your own shame into pre-emptive jokes. Turned your fear into something palatable… but it still hurts. It hurts when people don’t even ask if you’re okay. They just assume you’re something to laugh at, to observe, and you’ve been strong for so long, that today just felt like the end of it. Like how this one tiny thing —the jagged eyeliner—was all it took to remind you how helpless it can feel to live in a body that doesn’t always listen. But now, there’s warmth.

And maybe that should terrify you, because if people can be cruel, then love can be temporary. But his arms around you don’t feel temporary, his silence doesn’t feel judgmental, and most important of all, he doesn’t ask you to feel better; he just stays along with you.

You want to believe that someone can see all of it: the struggle, the cracks, the exhaustion, and still choose to stay, but not because they pity you, not because they want to fix you, but because they love you even like this, and especially like this.

Your breath hiccups in your throat, and you let yourself lean into him just a little more. Though your hands still shake, you begin to believe they don’t make you any less worthy of being held.

[drgnflyteabox]

something to remember you by

pairing: soap x fem reader summary: your boyfriend wants some memorabilia of you to take on his deployments. only, he wants his superior officer to take the photos. w.c: 3.7k tags/warnings: dubcon, cucking, mild degradation, oral (m + f, rough), hair pulling, un-negotiated kink, dom!soap, clothed man naked reader, teasing scent kink (m + f), one (1) pussy slap, crying, squirting, unprotected sex, some anxiety, reassurance mid-fuck, overstimulation, some aftercare, abrupt but open ending, reader has some internal shame around sex/kink, reader doesn't rlly like her bf

At first, it’s nothing. Dirty talk, suggestive texts, passing comments while he’s on his second deployment with a hand around his cock and you pretending to be into it.

"Think about it, babe," he’s panting, but it’s less sexy when you can tell he’s deepening his voice on purpose like Christian Bale Batman. "Don’t you wanna give me something to remember you by? While I’m out here fighting for you?"

Corny. So fucking corny. Your feet are kicked up on your coffee table, fuzzy-socked, face schlopped with a cooling gel mask. Quarter past 8 o’clock, and he’s trying to sell you on letting one of his army buddies fuck you and take pictures of you. The absurdity makes you almost laugh.

"…babe?" Oh, shit.

"Yeah honey, I’m here." You’d kind of feel bad, if it weren’t for the ick factor. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him, he was fine, it was just that since he’d joined the army he’d inched closer and closer to picking up a mic and dictating which body counts were okay to women over podcasts. That, and he’s gotten hornier. Kinkier.

Which is fine, really. Only you don't consider yourself adventurous. Sex is like a chore, something to put you to sleep, to relax the muscles. Relationships are quid pro quo - I suck your dick, you make my parents think I’m succeeding in life, deal?

Not to mention, you've never even considered stepping outside of the idea that sex is between committed couples only, sequestered away and hidden in the closet like old clothes.

"So, are you picturing it?" Schlap schlap schlap. He must’ve added lotion. "You can say no obviously, ughnnn, but I know this guy really well. I'd, ahhh fuck, sit in the other room."

"Thanks for being so considerate," you sound dry, but you’re honestly intrigued. Life has been monotonous since graduation, the transition from study to office… rough.

You aren’t adventurous. But you’re so fucking bored.

"Can I see him first?" On the TV in front of you, muted, Matthew Macfayden confesses his love tearfully in the rain. You want to be bewitched, body and soul. To feel something.

"So you’ll do it? Oh, fuck-" Not what I said, you think. His voice goes high, reedy, trembling with his orgasm. "See how fucking hot this makes me? I’ll send a pic, give me a sec."

It’s a group photo. He’s dressed in his uniform, head shaved, standing next to a group of a dozen or so men. Outlined, at the far corner with a group of guys big enough to dwarf a good third of the rest, is a man with building biceps and a smarmy grin and a confident, wide-legged pose. Hips jutted out. Fuck, he’s hot. You can see his bulge through his pants, through the picture, under a heavy tac vest.

"Get in, get in!" the apartment is clean for once. At least, clean without you getting sick of his clutter and playing maid. Did he do it himself to impress his friend? That makes you snort, but he doesn’t catch it, too preoccupied with his phone.

"Um, woah-" you start, taken aback. It looks like a porn set. There’s a plastic sheet on the ground in front of the couch. "I thought this was supposed to be casual?"

"It is, babe," he’s brushing you off, same as he did the few days leading up to this. You’d gone through some minor confidence and judgment crises, anxiety building like a balloon about to pop. All of which he’d brushed off.

It’s all fun and games, babe. Plus he’s done this before, he’s like a pro, showed me some videos - that was something you hadn't agreed to, just some pictures for him to take on deployments.

Still, trepidation makes you sweat, makes your thighs stick to the brown leather couch when you sit and try to sip water. Your socks crinkle the sheet.

You don’t turn when he arrives, still too nervous, knees stuck together and hands slipping on the glass from condensation when they start talking behind you. There’s too many what ifs - all reasons you’d used to avoid hookups in college, all reasons you wanted to break through your shell now.

Plus, you’re sick of hearing "did you finish?"

"This must be her," says an accented voice, gruff and maybe amused, "ye feelin' shy?"

No. You’re just nervous. Exposed. One of the only conditions you'd pushed was no cuck chair, but now you weren't sure how to feel to be left alone with him soon. This man is so big, so imposing.

"Hi," you say smartly. He looks just like his photo, only bigger. Bulging muscles and the same wide stance when he comes to stand in front of you. It’s only because you can’t stand sitting face-to-face with his crotch that you stand and hold your hand out to shake.

"And polite!" Loud. He introduces himself as Johnny, which makes your boyfriend's eyebrows raise. "So cute." he takes the liberty of bypassing your hand and grabbing your waist.

Oh fuck, he runs hot. His hands burn, even through your shirt. You feel self-conscious, plain, looking up at his probing blue eyes. They’re so intense, captivating, distracting you from the feeling of him getting closer and closer, till your tits are pressed to his.

"Hey-"

The moment breaks. Your boyfriend is looking at you both, unreadable expression on his face. Is he regretting this? Feeling emasculated, maybe? Hard to feel much sympathy when you’re the one about to get fucked.

And it was his idea.

"I’m gonna go to the bedroom," his eyes squint, flitting between the both of you before he scurries away, pants tented.

"Now that that's outta the way," Johnny grunts. "C'mere." And sits down with a grunt, pulling you to him.

You try to pivot, to sit next to him, but he's strong and coordinated so you wind up in his lap, back touching the arm of the couch and your legs slung over his, bum on one thigh.

"That's more like it, no?" there's that wolfish grin again, so close. One hand rests on your knee, possessively, while the other wraps around your shoulders and plays with your shirt. "Why don't we introduce ourselves?"

The hand on your knee moves to your face, gripping your cheeks in a grip hard enough to push your lips out into an embarrassing pout. You struggle a little, pulling at his wrist, but he doesn't budge.

He pulls his phone out, aiming the camera at your face, recording a video through a text-app. You can that it's a groupchat, assured by your boyfriend before that it was totally private, babe. This is jut between us.

"Now say hello," he puts his stubbly cheek next to yours, rubbing like a cat. "And introduce yourself."

"H'llo," you struggle through it, muffled by his grip. Your name is almost unintelligible, and your jaw starts to ache a little.

"Say, can I please suck your cock, sir?"

Your stomach tightens, right down to your pussy, which gushes a little into your panties.

"Cn'I please suck your cock, sir?" he's so fucking forward, just jumping in headfirst. The loss of control, your being told what to do, makes your clit jump. Sex has never been like this - you've never been so acquiescing.

"Of course you can, bonnie!" you're almost tossed to the floor, no gentleness as he pulls you toward him by the hair so quickly it almost makes you dizzy. He scoots to the edge of the couch, leaning back against it, and uses that strong arm to rub your face on his bulge. "Get me hard."

He puts his phone on the arm of the couch.

You flounder, hands finding his knees and trying to pull back. He doesn't let you.

"Use your mouth, kiss me," his hand finds a firmer hold on your hair as you start mouthing against him, tasting denim, smelling his musk, letting it get to your head and make you dizzy. "That's right, kitten."

His cock starts to chub under his clothes, and you almost wish you could feel it in your mouth. Oral isn't your favourite, but the way your pussy clenches around nothing and drips into your panties is making you think maybe you were wrong about yourself.

"Up, up," your face is rubbed a little raw by the time you sit up, looking at him. Waiting for instruction. "Everything off, except your panties."

You obey, stripping your shirt and bra and then your shorts. Your nipples tighten in the cool air of the apartment, goosebumps dancing along your arms and your belly. Self-consciousness almost has you reaching to cover yourself, until Johnny grabs you by the shoulders and twists you just enough that you're back to facing his phone.

"Look at these," he grunts in your ear, fingers finding your nipples. Pulling them, pinching them. It's not for you, it's for the camera. You feel like an object, an accessory, secondary to getting the shot of the rough pads of his fingers teasing you into whimpers.

You've never been more turned on.

"Nice, eh?" he pulls them up and out, which hurts, but draws a line of pure electricity from your nipples to your clit. "Whatd'ye think, L.T?" the name doesn't register. Army stuff, you assume.

You're turned back around sharply again to face his actual cock. He's pulled it from his fly, thick and leaking, while you were getting undressed. It's unfair, really, nice and long and curved.

"Ask me again," a statement. A command, phone discarded.

"Please can I suck your cock, sir?" the words make your cheeks burn, your body quiver, your clit jump.

"Ye can," laughter this time, worsening your embarrassment. His hand finds your hair again, pulling you down when you're too slow to touch your lips to the head of his dick. "I'm gonnae fuck your face, alright?"

Without waiting, he lifts his hips up and thrust into your mouth. It's not as deep as it can go, but you almost gag, unprepared. The next thrust is deeper, quicker. He's letting you build up to it, letting your hands rest on his knees for balance.

Your nose touches his pubic hair, inhaling the scent of him. Any attempt at hollowing your cheeks, sucking, licking, is futile. He's so quick that the best you can do is hang on for the ride, keeping your teeth in check.

Drool builds and spills past your lips, making wet sounds compete with his frankly pornographic moaning. He's a man possessed, using you while you squeeze your eyes against overwhelmed tears.

Finally he yanks you off of him by the hair, holding you up while you splutter from the unexpected change. Your hands go to your face, trying to wipe.

"None o'that, now," he bats them away, giving you a shake when you keep trying. "Leave it." like you're a bad dog.

Strings of spit connect your swollen lips to his cock, thin and gooey, that fall to your bare chest when he sits up.

You're turned, stood up and then guided to the couch to sit. Johnny slaps your thighs to get you to open them, lifting your feet for you so that your heels rest on the edge of the couch cushions.

"Awe, look how wet she is," he holds your legs, exposing your wet panties to him and to his phone, where he takes a few pictures. Again, you wonder about the appeal of this for your boyfriend. It's hot for you. Degrading, but hot. Or maybe more hot because of the degradation.

"Oh god," you say out of shock. You've never been so fucking wet in your life, and god forbid he sees how swollen with arousal you are underneath.

"Naw, just me," Johnny says, rubbing his knuckles over your pussy through the fabric. "She all wet and frustrated?"

You don't answer, hands keeping you sat up, chest heaving. You're still a little dizzy.

Johnny licks over your panties, mouthing over them not unlike what you did for him only a few minutes before. It's nothing, really, but you're so worked up that it startles a long, drawn-out moan from you.

He continues like this, never actually making contact with where you need it, with your skin. Every one in a while he turns his head to the side and grins, taking a picture or a videoclip while you tip your head back and resist begging him to just get on with it.

His nose presses on your mound, where he drags it down to your hole and sniffs.

That's what breaks your resolve.

"Please," you whine. Your voice is rough from taking his cock in your throat.

"Please what?" he opens his mouth and puts his teeth on you, not biting, just letting you feel them. Gnawing gently.

"Please do it," you look down at him, and even though he's on his knees you know you aren't the one in control. "Please lick my cunt."

A laugh, mean and condescending. Your eyes close in shame, pussy burning for attention.

"This cunt right here?" he pulls the gusset aside, whistling. "This desperate little cunt?"

"Yes, please," you curl your toes into the couch.

Something shifts in his eyes, some unrecognizable flash. It feels like danger, like you're in over your head. Johnny takes two fingers and rubs them over your clit, slowly at first, and then quickly when he feels how slippery you are.

Somewhere, a volcano erupts and it isn't comparable to the heat or the feeling of your clit finally getting attention. It zings through you, making you squeeze your muscles, taught and trembling.

The pads of his fingers are a rough sensation on your swollen skin, the worlds best vibrator, ribbed for your pleasure. All he does is rub, up and down over your clit, quickly and until your face starts to scrunch together in orgasm, trembling hard.

Then he pulls back and slaps you so hard on your pussy you scream.

You almost come from it, shocked, legs kicking out, skin burning and clit pulsing with desperation, back bowing. You keep making sound after, a long and drawn out aaaaaahhhhh while he grins like the cat that got the cream. Takes another picture, the click of the camera loud in the face of your disappointment.

The intensity of it almost brings you to tears, looking at him with betrayal and vulnerability in your face. You feel weak all of a sudden, cored, devoured, pulled apart as soft as slow cooked meat.

Your panties fall back over your skin, a minor comfort against the sting.

"Poor girl," Johnny says with false sympathy. "Let me make it up to ye."

Then you're up again, pulled and pressed against Johnny's chest until he pulls your underwear down and rearranges you to sit on his lap over his spread legs, yours dangling on either side.

"Gonna bounce ye on my cock, alright?" you nod. "Sit on it."

You lift your hips, using his knees for balance, and he guides the head of his cock to your hole. Stops you from sitting back right away with a hand on your hip, squeezing the soft flesh there, and holding you there.

"They're kissing," he laughs. You feel it, your cunt mouthing at him like a conscious being, separate from you. "Ye think they want tae meet each other?"

"Can I?" you don't fight to keep the whine out of your voice. You want to come, you want this aching and this emptiness to end.

"Can ye what?"

"Sit on your cock, please."

"Well, since ye asked so nicely," and then he notches himself properly again, and forces you down with two hands on your waist. You shout, arching, head thrown back. "Bounce on it now, kitten. Show me how badly ye want to come."

And oh god, you do. You rock forward, shaking at the feeling of him, no technique to guide you just pure intuition, brain and cunt and body as one. Distantly, the sound of the camera registers, but it only makes you move faster.

He spreads your cheeks, exposing where you're connected, putting the camera close to the wet clench of your cunt around his cock and - oh, he's filming it. There's no click, just the wet sounds of you riding him.

"Thas'right," he murmurs lowly, maybe for show. "You wanna come?"

"Yes!" you lean back, then, sweat slicked back sticking to his shirt, forgetting where you are and why you're here. Everything narrows down to your pussy, but you feel compelled to keep your hands off your clit even though you know it would make you come quickly.

You want to listen to him, to wait for permission. The thought is searing heat through your core.

Fingers find your face, slipping into your mouth. Your lips wrap around them, sucking like you would've his cock.

His other hand lifts his phone in front of you both, snapping shots of your unfocused eyes, your tits pushed into the air, his smarmy expression. He hooks his fingers then into your cheek, pulling back like a fishhook.

"Good girl," his lips against your ear, stubble scratching the hot skin of your neck. "I'm gonna fuck you for real now, alright?"

You nod, desperately. He pushes you up and off of him, face down in the cushion. He's still clothed, for gods sake, jeans rubbing against the backs of your thighs when he drags your ass back toward him.

The mushroom head of his cock finds your cunt again, pushing in, driving you nuts. You're moaning helplessly, letting him take your boneless arms to hold them behind you.

He fucks you like a man possessed, in a short strokes, barely leaving the hot clutch of your pussy. The sounds, if they were bad before, are worse now, wet and humiliating.

Every thrust feels like he's slowly inflating a balloon inside you, like something pulling taut, like pressure about to burst.

"Fuck, wait!" you shout and turn your head. The pressure is insane, mixed up with a building orgasm, twined together. He hasn't even touched your clit, and yet you're on the precipice.

Johnny leans down, lips on your ear. He slows, but doesn't stop.

"What is it, bonnie?"

"I have to pee," you'd have mumbled it before, but the feeling is so strong you can't help but whimper and cry. "Please let me up."

"Ye aren't gonna pee," he laughs. "Trust me, just trust me." Then keeps pistoning into you.

You feel like jello, like mush, the only solid part of you is about to burst and somehow it makes you feel real anxiety, dampening your enjoyment.

"Johnny-" you whimper, emotion clogging your voice. You feel vulnerable, held down and bared.

In need of reassurance.

"You're alright," he leans back down and nuzzles your wet cheek. "Ye can let go, kitten, I've got ye."

You gasp, pulsing hard around him, the feeling back again, before you gush around his cock, a spray so intense you cry as it forces him out of you.

"Good. Fucking. Girl!" he slaps your ass once, twice, on both cheeks. Rubs your flank like a horse and then plunges back into you when you finish dripping down your legs.

This is purely selfish, him fucking you hard now, jackrabbiting his hips into yours. You hear the phone again, just barely, as your ears ring.

You're raw from coming without any touch to your clit, a weird limbo between being on-edge and oversensitive.

"Gonna give me another," he's growling now, getting impossibly faster. You actually really cry when he reaches around to twist your clit, thrashing under him, not sure if you want to leap off the couch or crawl right back into him. "Come for me!" he shouts, pulling up the hood of your clit to really get at you, rubbing rough circles around your beleaguered little nub.

The second orgasm melts your brain out of your ears, so long and drawn out that you're still shivering with the aftershocks as he pulls out of you and paints your back with his release.

You pant, arm one arm dangling over the edge of the couch while you the other covers your eyes.

Johnny rubs a hand on your thigh, light and gentle, patting your bum as he stands. You move your arm just enough to squint at him.

His jeans are soaked.

You laugh, uninhibited, delirious. He laughs with you.

"All you, darlin'!" he takes another shot of you, pulls your legs apart and takes a picture of your wet, sore hole.

"Is she good?" ah, your boyfriend. He has his own wet spot on the front of his pants.

"She's good," Johnny confirms. "Ye need to take care of her now, right?"

Something in his voice changes. A different kind of authority to the one he used on you, one reserved for soldiers. For men beneath him. At that thought, your pussy makes a valiant effort to clench.

"Yeah, yeah," you hear. Your boyfriend has his phone out, his cheeks flushed with excitement. "These are great man, thanks."

You start to sit up, still shaking, but not wanting to have him see you that way.

"Man, you weren't kidding!" he goes on. Johnny frowns and steps forward to clap him hard on the back and grab his nape.

"Run a bath, do it now. Ye got granola bars?"

"Uh, yeah. Hold on."

You're touched by his concern, and wind up soaking in warm bubbles after he leaves. You wonder about the photos, about what you look like. If your boyfriend is satisfied, if Johnny is.

If you were good.

Feels like you were, but somethings changed. Johnny found a soft spot knife-deep inside you and dug himself in, made you fly and made sure you were brought back to earth after, tenderized and then wrapped in comfort.

Beneath the water, you touch your pussy. Not to masturbate, just to feel the soft sore flesh, to remember the feeling of fullness.

Maybe, after his deployment, your boyfriend will want more pictures.

Fresh material.

Beneath the water, your finger curls into yourself and you sigh, satisfied.

[lilacgaby]

‧₊˚see you again.₊˚⊹

SUKUNA'S LOVE FOR YOU surpassed time itself. he'd waited centuries for this moment, the moment you'd reunite with him. the moment he'd see you again.

-✩pair. heianera!sukuna x wife!reader. tags. violence, killing, major character death, morally gray reader, pet names, kissing, fluff, crying, minor angst, happy ending. wc.2k

-✩note. heavily based off the song!

saying he missed you was an understatement.

you were his queen, his everything. time meant nothing to the immortal king, but with you by his side he felt that his forever wasn't enough.

you came into his life swiftly, an offering from a village who was begging for sukuna’s grace. you were bound up and pliant, an angry look on your eyes. one that interested him, his hand moving to support his head as a smirk overcame his face.

a lack of tears from you fascinated him. he was met by furrowed brows rather than an expression of fear. a look of defiance as an ordered servant peeled the gag off your lips.

you said nothing, he was almost upset at how you ignored him, choosing to spend your first words in his presence to curse out the leaders of your village.

“silence.” with the point of his finger you still kept your expression, though shutting up. “she is right though,” he stood, walking over to where the three of you sat. one of the leaders shoving your neck to the floor to bow.

“uh, uh, uh.” sukuna waved his finger, “you should know i don't like my prizes to be touched.” your eyes widened out of reflex, the blood of the woman beside you now splattered on your skin. your mouth agape as you saw her head roll.

the lady next to you, her wife in crime, ran out screaming. “i don't remember giving you permission to run.” her body met a similar fate to her wife’s, body sliced diagonally in half. or so you think, you could only hear the sick tumbling of her body off the temple entrance.

he looked down at you, expecting you to scream or cry, to have to silence your sobbing self by a slit of the throat. though.. he was met with none of that.

a small smile, hidden by your bow that you hadn't moved from. relief in your eyes, relaxation in your stature.

“well isn't that interesting?” sukuna sauntered over to you. “raise your head.” you did so, wiping your smile off of your face. “why aren't you screaming sweet girl? your elders were just murdered in front of you.”

with a tilt of your head, as if the answer was so obvious, so simple, you began to explain. “it's not like i liked them or anything,” you wiped the blood off your face using the dead woman’s sleeve, “so why would i be sad?”

he found himself at a loss for words in the first time for a while. the woman’s hand made a hard thunk as it hid the floor again. he scoffed, another large smirk overtook his face. he picked you up off the floor, bending down and meeting you face to face. “i might just keep you.”

the understatement of the century.

it was gradual, yes, but you became more than his favorite. he found himself thinking of you when you weren't gone, moving you into a room connected to his personal chambers so he could speak to you more frequently. he asked your opinions on things, something he never thought he'd find himself doing. you'd sit next to him by throne, helping him pass judgment on those who'd ask for a moment of his time on the daily.

the sobbing that wrecked their bodies, snot slobbering over their faces, their heads kissing the floor as they begged to him. offerings piled up on the floor, many splattered with blood that would need to be cleaned off later.

he liked how you barely emoted, expecting the slash of his finger onto their necks. he liked how the flinches of your body faded away, a cold expression adorning your face now. as if you were above them, and to him you really were.

his quarters became yours too, he grew to adore the sight of you waiting in bed for him. the new silken robes he'd got custom for you, actually your entire wardrobe was put to shame at the staple pieces he'd chose for you.

you didn't get to sit on his throne, no. you sat above it. you sat on him, not even glancing away from him as one arm held you by the waist, passing judgment onto people for the day.

you weren't all a terror though. the concubines and harem he'd harbored over the years were all let go. any one who questioned him was stricken down.

you were gifted a lady in waiting, who'd grown fond of you. though equally scared of your cruel nature that rivaled the king of curses himself.

in life you were a sight to behold. as you awoke, showering with affection, tracing the markings of his skin, kissing the spots around his neck.

many months he spent with you. each rampage he'd gone on was cheered on by you, the taste of victory on his tongue as he gifted you items every time. jewelry, new robes, a garden outside.

though it all paired in comparison to your wedding ring. a stone, specially forged for you of your favorite color. it glistened in the light, though it had an undertone of black.

he adorned a similar band on his hand, lying not on his ring finger, but the pointer finger he used to massacre. so you'd always be with him.

after a particularly brutal one, leaving him with his body completely bloodied not with his own blood, he entered your quarters.

you ran your hand along his body, eyes squinting as you pulled his main hand to your face. “you need to be more careful ryo,” you brought it up to his face, “what if the blood stains your band? replacing it won't be easy.”

he chuckled, placing a hand on your head, making you squirm away from his bloody grasp. “don't worry, i'll take care of it.”

the same scenario played out for years, the years that you'd spent together with him. you'd tell him to be more careful, tell him to be more considerate of your bond symbolized by that ring, and he'd assure you. he remembered it like it was yesterday, the slices of life you'd had alongside him all embedded in his memory.

he wished you'd have taken your own advice. he wished he had hammered it into your head to be careful, to not venture off too far without him. but he didn't.

you left his life just as swiftly as you entered it. your lady in waiting ran into his room without warning, something that'd get her head cut off if it wasn't for the blood on her otherwise white robes. he stood up quickly, rushing his way out the door on instinct as he heed her words.

“the– the queen she’s–”

he silenced her, raising a hand before she could finish her sentence. he smelled it before he could see it, slowing down and walking over to where you said you'd stay out by the garden he'd made just for you.

the white roses were stained red, dripping with your blood as you laid in the flower bed. your face was at peace, eyes closed as if you were just in a short slumber.

though the hole in your stomach that ripped through even the fabric of your clothing let him know it was too late.

“k-king-” your lady in waiting started, hands shaking before he cut her off.

“you're relieved of your duty.”

“w-what?”

“i advise you to stay in our– my temple, i will not be kind these next few days. you may go.”

she bowed quickly, running off with tears brimming at her eyes.

it's what you want-- would've wanted.

your skin was whitened and pale, there was no heaving of your chest anymore. you were gone. and he was alone.

your body was buried in the gardens, your memory was becoming lost to time.

it was seen in the alignment of his throne now that you weren't leaving up against its side, the absence of your shoes by the door, the harem and concubines that littered his halls.

he'd murdered one of them the other day. for touching your clothes, for wearing them. his heart lurched in his chest at the sight of the now hundreds year old robe on the woman. no matter what time would tell, you never faded from his mind. the memory of beating the man who'd been the cause of your death into the ground just as fresh.

even while he was sealed, a day was never lost without the thought of you on his mind. he only saw your face when he closed his eyes. he yearned for you, he wanted to feel you once more. he hoped you'd go north, be reborn and start anew. he hoped for you to find him.

but after hundreds of years waiting, and tiring, he took it upon himself to bring you back. the second he had an opportunity, he did.

a new woman, one he'd not dare compare to you in any regard, was bound by fear in front of him. oh, and a couple chains.

she was screaming, her voice growing hoarse. his temple had been empty for some years, no one would hear her pleas as she struggled aimlessly.

he laughed at the irony, imagining how you'd act in her stead, remembering how you acted when you were bound and laid out in front of him.

he pulled something out of his pocket, a finger with the very same ring of devotion he'd gifted to you. he discarded the paper sealing your very own cursed energy.

he clutched in his hand, closing his eyes as he was determined for this to be the last time he felt your body without a pulse. the last time he'd only feel the softness of your energy and not your plush skin.

he choked the woman in front of him. just before she passed out he let go.

not letting her rest, he pried open her mouth and shoved your finger in, making her breath it in.

he let go, the effects not taking over immediately. she wrapped her hands around her neck and breathed, horrified eyes peering into him until they rolled back, only the white of her eyes showing as she fell to the floor.

the internal torment of souls was happening before his very eyes. evident in the vigorous twitching of the body.

you won though. it was obvious. the glint of your skin began to peek through the head, the body itself reforming to the shape when you died. your hair grew back in its texture and color, the warmth in your skin was a sight for sore eyes.

your eyes opened, revealing the slightly glossy hue of your eyes. you felt as though you'd taken a long nap, rubbing your eyes as they locked into sukuna’s form.

“ryo? what time is it?” you asked sleepily, yawning as he helped you up once more.

“it is a new era, my queen.”

your eyes widened. your hands were in his though you looked around at the changes surrounding you. the trees were larger, thicker than you remember. your garden had a pit in the middle of it, roses growing around it. your heart dropped at the realization, the memories flowing back into you. “i..

i died, didn't i?”

he nodded, looking at where your corpse would lay. “you did.”

“i'm sorry.”

“i shouldn't have let it happen.” he tightened his grip on your hands. “there is not point in reminiscing about it now. you're here, next to me. that's all that matters”

you nodded, still feeling guilt in your chest. “you're not leaving my side.” he ordered.

“of course not.” you moved closer to him, wrapping your hands around his arm.

“can i have a kiss?” you asked, making him raise his eyebrows incredulously.

“woman, i revived you after centuries and you'd still ask?”

you took that as a yes, standing on your toes to kiss him. he picked you up, deepening it.

you had been running through his daydreams for years, plaguing his memories through his actions even while you were alive.

while the wait for you was sickening, the feeling of your skin against his once more convinced him.

convinced him that a millennia of waiting was worth these small moments with you.

taglist: @k0z3me @darhinadadragon

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[sparklystarrrr]

No Chance, No Way!!

Synopsis: In which (Y/n) falls in love with none other than Idia Shroud, but is scared to fall in love because of her freshly broken heart.

Contains: Megara themed reader, set in a garden in the Island of Woe, Idia & reader are hopelessly in love, Ortho our fav wingman who's sick of the two being hopelessly in love, Idia in Hades' toga and Reader in Megara's dress... I need that (I'm Greek, I want the rep), told from the reader's perspective, YES THIS IS BASED ON THE ACC SCENE WHERE MEG SINGS I WON'T SAY I'M IN LOVE it's gonna be so cliche and cheesy but WHATEVER

It was a rather warm summer night, the moon was shining and all seemed peaceful. That was until I got lost in my thoughts, walking and picking a delicate blue flower and landing myself on a bench in the garden of the Island of Woe. This was the perfect night to get lost in my thoughts. The only thing accompanying me was the cool breeze and the ruffle of leaves. I twirled the fragile flower around between my fingers, noticing how the flower's petals faded from a dark blue out to a light yet bright blue and all I could think about was him. A small grin formed on my face.

Oh, him... It felt so fleeting to feel this way, as if I was jumping on clouds with the wind in my hair... That was when I felt that feeling I was all too familiar with. I was in love... Ugh no.. I am not in love! I learned my lesson from the first guy this cannot be happening! I crossed my arms over my legs, propping my head up on my hand, I grumbled to myself "What's the matter with me... You'd think a girl would learn..."

I got myself up and walked around the garden. It seemed to be decorated with little cupids and statues of lovers, this was certainly an icky feeling... I sighed hopelessly while turning the little cupid from pointing its arrow at me to the other direction"If there's a prize for rotten judgment, I guess I've already won that..." I sauntered around aimlessly, passing a hedge of bushes"No man is worth the aggravation, that's ancient history... Been there, done that!" I flung the blue flower behind me in frustration.

As if on queue, a pair of big bright yellow eyes poked out from inside the bush. Suddenly, a determined Ortho popped out and caught the flower I tossed. He seemed to be giggling to himself, "Who do you think you're kidding! After doing a few scans on you, my databases tell me that big brother's the "Earth and Heaven" to you!" My cheeks flushed at his sudden interjection. I grunted as I plopped down onto a bench, holding my head in my hand's as I pouted... I can't really be feeling like this after just getting broken up with a few months ago, could I? "Don't try to keep it hidden (Y/n)! My scans can see right through you!" Ortho's child-like robot voice broke me out of my thoughts. "Oh no..." I moaned out while covering my face with my hands.

"You can't conceal it forever (Y/n), I know exactly how you're feeling and who you're thinking of!" He floated above me and dangled the flower beside my face in hopes I would catch it and just confess to these heavy feelings. I ignored the flower tickling my cheek and brushed it off of me. Ortho made a "hmph!" sound like he was determined to get me to say it. I stood up, feeling slightly ashamed for these not so new feelings,"No chance, no way! I won't say it, nope!" My frustration easily got to me. Why can't these feelings just pass!

Once again, Ortho kept pushing, "You're swooning, sighing, and your dopamine levels skyrocket when you're around Idia, all signs of being in love! Why deny it?" He had a point... but I won't say it!,"It's so cliche, Ortho! I just can't say i'm in love!" I walked away holding my arms close to my body. These feelings were so warm yet so uncertain... Ortho sighed and followed me to the path full of statues of lovers "I thought my heart had learned its lesson... It always feels this good when it starts out." I grumbled and looked up at all the statues while feeling a pang of loneliness I didn't know I felt until now.

My head was practically screaming 'Get a grip, girl! Unless you're dying to cry your heart out!' at me! I then felt Ortho's mechanical hand pat my shoulder and he looked up at me with those adorable big yellow eyes of his"You keep denying who you are and how you're feeling, but I'm not buying it! You practically hit the ceiling whenever the two of you talk!" I turned away from him and pouted, was it really that easy to see my feelings towards Idia..? "Facing it and owning up to these emotions will release a weight off your shoulders. And my databases are 101% sure you won't get rejected!" That comment made me feel... hope? Why was I feeling hopeful about this?! I can't believe myself!

"No chance! I won't ever say it!" I say stubbornly as I hop across pedestals that stuck out in the clear blue water of a pool. On the last pedestal I trip and nearly fall into the cold water! That's when a male's hand reaches out to me. I grab on and he pulls me onto the ground before I could fall. I looked at the hand. It was pale, bony and was larger than my own. I looked up at the man who owned this warm hand and it was none other than Idia.

"..Hey... Y-you good?" His awkward sharp toothy grin was really cute and I couldn't help but smile when I saw the pink tips of his blue hair going wild and crazy. 'Wow.. he looks really good in this outfit he was wearing though, I see his biceps and everything...I knew he had a sleeper build...' Shut up mind! I can't think like this... I smiled gently up at him and muttered a small, "I'm fine..!" I said as we both giggled awkwardly. I turned away, trying to hide my blush and he did the same. My hands brushed through my long (h/c) locks and I saw Ortho who seemed to be ushering me to confess because the Seven know Idia won't. He created a small hologram that had the words "Give in!!" "I can see that smile from here, (Y/n)!" He shouted at me. He put up a thumbs up for me to confess.

I covered my ears and shut my eyes as if I was trying to shut the whole world out. "This scene won't play Ortho! I just won't say it, get off my case!" I yelled back to him as I ran off to the fountain to sit and be irritated. I plopped down with a scowl and put my hand down on the cement to lean myself on my arm. The feeling of a stem was under my palm and I suddenly knew exactly what it was... the blue flower. I picked it up, smiling to myself in content as I put it up to my nose and smelled the fragrance. It smelled almost sweet, but perfect.

I touched the petals delicately with my free hand "Well, at least out loud I won't say I'm in love..." I held the flower to my chest and sighed, my body going to lay down on the edge of the fountain when suddenly I felt someone beside me. I heard a small "Eep!" from the person my head had bumped into and I turned around in surprise. "I-Idia?" We felt close.. too close for us to just be friends. "Uh.. Ortho sent me here.... Sorry... I-i can go if you need me too." And with that he started getting up, his hair going a bit more crazy than usual with the pink tint still there, even his ears were a light pink, his cheeks too.

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. All I did was suddenly grab onto his arm. I'm so gonna be embarrassed for this later... "Sorry... but don't go. Sit with me, Idia..." I felt my face heating up a bit, him clearly turning pinker as seconds passed. I pulled him to sit down next to me. "So... clearly Ortho wanted the both of us to be here." I mumbled. "Yeah..." He said while nervously playing with his hair that was glowing a brighter pink. There was an awkward silence for a moment. We didn't really have anything to talk about in this situation. I sighed. "I'm sorry for... being in love with you, I guess." My hand wrapped around his hands which were still busy fiddling with his flaming locks. My other hand sat in my lap, twirling the blue flower.

He choked on air for a moment at my sudden confession. Obviously he wasn't expecting it. "N-no! It-it's fine it's just... Idk.. I'm not used to this stuff..." At this point all his hair had been colored a bright fuchsia. "Well I am you could say... I'm just scared of being in love." He looked at me, then away from me, at my flower, then back at me. "... Why? You seem like that girl everyone wants... like some normie... couldn't ever be seen with me..." He muttered the last part under his breath.

I scoffed at myself," If you really want to know, I got my heart played with." I looked away as my shoulders slumped and I looked down at my hands. His silence made it awkward but I knew he didn't really know how to respond. "That's stupid of him...." I heard him quietly whisper to himself. I looked at him with a smirk, "Yeah, really was stupid of him. Glad you think the same, Shroud..." He squeaked and his face turned almost as pink as his hair.

"But you know, I'm past him." He looked at me with his bright yellow eyes that I adored so much. "I don't think I could be scared of love when I'm with you..." I said while smiling up at him. His deep blue lips parted as I got closer to him, our hands still touching as they went down together and leaned on the stone fountain. He picked up the flower laying in my other hand, and feeling bold, he tucked it behind my ear."...You know... (h/c) looks mega cool with blue..." I smiled at his words.

Without a second thought, my now empty hand went up to his jaw and I dragged him down to get closer with me. I crashed my rosy lips against his icy blue ones. Suddenly the whole world seemed to disappear. His hands froze in their spot but as the kiss deepened, his hands went to my waist, his thumbs rubbing against my sides while he pulled me closer.

We pulled away to catch our breath. I smirked at his now bright red face. "I love you, Shroud. Don't break my heart.." I said in a breathy tone. I already knew he wouldn't, I trust him with my life. "I wouldn't dare, πριγκίπισσα." We crashed our lips together once more, grabbing onto each other like our lives depended on it. And the rest was history~

(queue lil Ortho celebrating in a bush and watching them, then covering his eyes when the two start getting a little steamy)

I've had an Idia hyper fixation for the past 2 days, I NEEDED THIS

Edit: πριγκίπισσα is princess in Greek<333

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Regret |3|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You were living in New York with your girlfriend, trying to forget about last year and just enjoy life, but that was easier said than done. (Sequel to A Legacies Secret)

Warnings: Murder, Gunshots, Knife Wounds

Word Count: 2.8k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | A Legacies Secret Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

You watched the TV in horror as the news reporter continued to go on about a murder that had taken place earlier in the night, seemingly by Ghostface. You really hoped this was all just a coincidence, you were never that lucky though. You looked over at Tara, despite your argument earlier, your hand instantly found hers when the news came on, almost as if it were natural. If Ghostface was really back then you didn’t care what kind of psycho took up the mantle this time around, you vowed to never let anyone hurt Tara ever again and you intend to honor that.

“Did you know them?” You asked when a picture of two boys who went to college with Tara was shown on screen.

“Yeah,” Tara said mindlessly. She got a little crinkle in her brow, which you always found adorable. “They’re in my film class.”

You furrowed your brow; it seemed the two boys on screen killed one of their professors and had a shrine dedicated to Ghostface. You weren’t sure if those kids were just big fans of the movies and when they saw Tara in their class, they decided to live out some sick fantasy or if they planned it. You wouldn’t put it past one of those psychos who thought it was okay to dress up like a serial killer to stalk the survivors of past attacks and follow them wherever they moved, going so far as to enroll in college with their intended victim.

Whatever the boys’ plans was didn’t matter anymore, considering someone had killed them as well. There didn’t seem to be a lot of info on the two kids’ deaths, but the media seemed to think it was the work of Ghostface. You weren’t sure that had ever happened before, different Ghostface competing against each other. Most Ghostface seemed to work with a partner, even if said partners eventually tried to kill each other they never started off on different sides.

If another Ghostface was out there and actually did kill those kids, you wondered what their play was. You weren’t sure what the plan of the college kids was either, but the shrine seemed to indicate they were just some psycho fans. This other Ghostface though, he could be anyone, if he killed the two boys who seemed intent on taking over the mantle then it was probably because he had something bigger planned. It was still yet to be decided if the new guy had an ego and just didn’t want the competition or if he didn’t want what seemed to be a couple of amateurs getting in his way.

“He was weird,” Tara whispered, breaking you out of your thoughts. “But he was nice.”

Your gaze softened at her words, you knew how hard it was for her to make new friends. You and Sam might have been a tad bit protective of Tara, so much so that Sam wouldn’t let anyone new come into the apartment without being vetted first. Anika was the first exception, even before Ethan, who was chads roommate. It was a long process, usually involving a lot of questioning and Sam glaring. Tara hadn’t met anyone who was willing to put up with that yet though, anyone she talked about from school seemed to just be people she met in class and chatted with.

You never even bothered trying to make new friends, which maybe said more about you than anything, but you weren’t about to wander down that path. Anika seemed to be the exception though, she was Mindy’s girlfriend but always made sure to include you. You weren’t sure how much you’d classify Anika as a friend, it wasn’t like the two of you hung out just the two of you, but she was nice and didn’t seem to have any judgment or opinion about you already formed, you didn’t have to fight for her approval or prove that you were good enough for Tara with her.

“We need to leave,” Sam said, once again breaking your thoughts and what was otherwise an uneasy silence. “Pack your bags.”

“What?” Tara yelled, whipping around to face her sister. “No.”

“We can pick up Chad and Mindy on the way out of town.” You had to give it to Sam for trying to sell the idea, but she should have known that would never work with Tara.

“You can’t do this to me.”

“Tara-”

“No! We don’t even know if this is connected to us.” Tara looked back at you for some support and you opened your mouth, but no words came out. You would always support Tara, no matter what, but even you didn’t believe in coincidences this much. There was a flash of hurt on Tara’s face when you didn’t say anything, making you drop your eyes to the floor.

“Can’t we make sure this is actually him,” Tara pointed at the TV, which was now showing a picture of a Ghostface costume. “Before you completely uproot my life and derail my college education.”

You all jumped and spun around at the sound of a door creaking open. You released a shaky breath when you saw it was just Quinn. She stumbled out of her room, her robe clearly hastily thrown on, she was rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with one hand while the other held out a phone to Sam.

“My dad wants to talk to you,” Quinn mumbled sleepily.

“I gotta go,” Sam said to whoever she was talking to before. “Stay together, stay safe, and don’t trust anyone.” You let out a small hum, she had most likely been talking to Mindy or Chad, which hopefully meant they were together, at least that way they’d stand a chance if Ghostface really was back.

Sam cautiously took the phone from Bailey and brought it to her ear. “Detective Bailey?” She asked, almost as if she didn’t fully believe that Quinn’s dad would be on the other end.

You watched Sam as she listened to whatever detective Bailey was telling her; you could see the way Sam’s frown only deepened with his words. “Okay,” she said. “I’m on my way.” With that she hung up and handed Quinn back her phone.

“What did he say?” Tara asked. Sam didn’t answer as she made her way across the room. “Is Ghostface back?” Sam grabbed her keys from the table by the door and began to slip on her jacket. “Where are you going?” Tara followed after her sister, and you followed after Tara.

“Detective Bailey needs me to come to the station,” Sam finally stopped and answered her sister. “He said they found my ID at the crime scene.” Sam let out a sigh and ran a hand through her hair, you couldn’t imagine how exhausting this all was for her.

You didn’t even want to begin to imagine what it meant that Sam’s ID was found at the crime scene. You remembered when Sam lost her ID, she had to spend nearly the whole day at the DMV to get a new one. The two kids could have gotten her ID for some reason, they had class with Tara, but they never had access to the apartment. That meant whoever the new Ghostface was somehow stole Sam’s ID without her ever knowing, whether that was by getting into the apartment or snagging her wallet while she was at work you didn’t know.

“Well, you’re not going alone,” Tara said, grabbing her own jacket.

“No,” Sam said, holding up her hand to keep Tara from following. “You’re staying here.” Sam glanced past Tara at you, silently begging you to agree with her and try and convince Tara to stay.

You opened and closed your mouth a few times and gave Sam an apologetic shrug. “I’ve never had much luck going off solo,” you said. The first time you left Tara’s side last year someone was killed right outside of your place of work, then the second time you yourself were attacked in your own apartment, and then there was the time you and Tara were left at the hospital. If you took anything away from the attacks last year it was that splitting up was never a good idea.

“Safety in numbers, yeah?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sam rolled her eyes as she ran a hand through her hair. “Fine,” Sam groaned. “But don’t leave my side,” she pointed her finger at Tara, giving her a knowing look.

You waited for Tara to agree to Sam’s terms, which she quickly did, though not without an eyeroll. The three of you left the apartment, with Sam making sure to lock all the locks and triple checking that everything was in fact locked. Sam didn’t seem to be wasting any time as she rushed down the several flights of stairs, with Tara right behind her and you doing your best to not fall behind.

As soon as you got out into the night you looked both ways, like you always did when you left the apartment. You weren’t even sure what time it was; you had no idea how much sleep you got, all you knew was that the sky was still dark and there were still people walking around.

You stayed close to Tara as Sam led the way. Sam slowly came to a stop and pulled out her phone. You furrowed your brow as you got closer and looked at Sam questioningly when you saw the name on the screen.

“What the hell,” Tara whispered.

“I never deleted his number,” Sam mumbled.

“Ignore it,” you said. You didn’t need to hear Ghostface’s voice over the phone to know he was back, the fact that Sam’s very dead boyfriend was calling her was proof enough for you.

Sam elected to ignore you and swiped to answer the phone. You held in your eye roll, no one ever listened to you, you should have really been used to it at this point. You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation once again, but you watched Sam pace back and forth as she threatened whoever this new guy was.

You caught a blur of movement out of the side of your eye, you didn’t wait to see what it was, you just grabbed Tara and yanked her back. You hissed as you felt something slice across your arm. You quickly pulled your arm away, already seeing a stream of blood pouring down your arm.

Your eyes widened when you turned and saw Ghostface raising their knife again. He never got a chance to swing it at you though because Sam dealt a harsh kick to their stomach, then pushed him to the ground. “Run!” she called out.

The three of you took off down the street, not waiting around for him to recover. “There!” Sam pointed at a little bodega at the corner of the street.

The three of you ran across the street, ignoring traffic laws in the process. You didn’t look back, but you were sure Ghostface was already up and chasing after you again. Sam ripped open the door to the bodega, not bothering to apologize as she pushed the patrons that were standing in line back.

“You need to call the police,” Sam said.

There was a lot of shouting and arguing, the customers pushing their way back into line. Everyone went silent when a second later the door was flung open and Ghostface was standing there. You pushed Tara behind you and began nudging her backwards, further into the bodega. One of the men that was standing in line tried standing up to Ghostface, you weren’t sure if he was that confident or if he truly had no idea what he was getting into.

Ghostface didn’t bother entertaining the man though as he quickly swiped his knife across the man’s neck. The owner of the bodega whipped out a shotgun from underneath the counter and aimed it at Ghostface.

“Back here!” Sam called out. You glanced back to see Sam was running to the door at the back of the building. You and Tara followed after her but were quickly stopped as the door was locked. “Keys!” Sam ran back towards the owner, who instantly tossed her the keys.

You stood behind Tara, with Sam in front of her as she tried to unlock the door. You kept your eyes on the commotion at the front of the store. The owner had fired a couple shots, but Ghostface seemed to have ducked behind one of the shelves while the customers all ran out to where it was safe.

“Dammit,” you heard Sam whisper.

You spared a glance back to see her struggling with the lock. You looked back in front of you just as the owner came around the counter and was grabbed by Ghostface. Ghostface quickly overpowered the man, flipping the shotgun around and not hesitating to pull the trigger.

“Move!” you said, grabbing Tara and Sam and pulling them to safety just as Sam got the door unlocked.

You pushed the two of them to the ground, quickly crawling around the shelves as Ghostface fired a few more shots. You raised your hands, trying to cover your head as debris from the shelves fell on you. After going down a few rows you quickly slid behind one of the shelves, the three of you holding your breath and pressing your backs against it.

You glanced to the side, using the holes in the shelf to sneak a peek at Ghostface. You saw him round the corner, his boot crunching the shattered glass on the floor. You quickly pulled your head back and glanced at the girls, Tara was shaking on the floor next to you, you couldn’t help but slide your hand across the floor and intertwine your pinky with hers.

You looked past Tara and met Sam’s eyes. You used your hand not holding Tara’s to point in the direction Ghostface was. Sam nodded and as quietly as she could she reached across the floor a picked up a can. She raised a finger to her lips, and you nodded, giving Tara’s hand a tight squeeze to make her look up at you. You gave her what you hoped was a comforting smile and nodded to follow Sam’s lead.

You waited for Sam’s signal; you tried not to let the fact that all you could hear was Ghostface’s footsteps distract you. You winced and looked down, remembering the cut on your arm, there seemed to still be a nice stream of blood, which was quickly pooling on the ground between your and Tara’s hands.

Sam gestured for you to move. You held in a groan as you got into position, crawling on the floor across broken glass and other debris was not good for your knee. Tara glanced back at you, and you didn’t miss the worry in her eyes, so you gave her a reassuring nod. Then you gave Sam a nod to show that the two of you were ready.

Sam rolled the can under the shelf towards the back of the store. As soon as the noise of the can rumbled against the floor Ghostface fired the gun again. The three of you took the opportunity to run, keeping your heads down below the shelving.

You were about to round the corner of the shelf when you peaked over the top of the shelf, seeing Ghostface turning in your direction. “Down!” you called out, watching as the sisters dropped to the floor.

You dropped to the floor as well, groaning at the strain it took on your knee. You landed on your back and could see the boots of Ghostface as he made his way down the aisle. You shot up from the floor, ignoring the shooting pain in your knee and threw your body into the shelf, tipping it over onto Ghostface.

“Come on!” Sam called out.

You pushed yourself off the shelf, hopping and wincing at the pressure on your knee. You tensed when you felt a hand wrap around your side but instantly relaxed when you realized it was Tara. You put an arm around Tara as she helped you walk out of the bodega. By the time the three of you got outside the police cars were pulling up.

You leaned on Tara as you tried to take the weight off of your knee. It seemed that Ghostface was truly back, and this one had no problem killing anyone who got in his way. You didn’t face this Ghostface head on, but he carried himself different than Amber or Richie ever did, he handled the shotgun almost effortlessly, whoever this guy was, it was clear he knew what he was doing.

Taglist: @mamas-evil-hag @thatshyboy1998 @btay3115 @idontliketoread2137 @nwestra

@honorarysimp @canyonyodeler @chxrry-lov3 @aceofspades190 @worstendingever

[oddyseye]

Dissecting every reason people call Eurylochus a hypocrite because I am sick and tired of defending this poor hungry man.

Eurylochus is not the easy villain or the perfect saint. He is the walking contradiction of the Odyssey and EPIC, and anyone who just calls him a hypocrite without understanding the nuances of his motivations really isn’t paying attention to the full picture. Let’s start with the infamous wind bag fiasco, which happens early enough for Eurylochus to show us his conflict. Yes, he doubts Odysseus’ judgment when it comes to the Wind God’s island, warning him about the risks. And let’s be real, Eurylochus is absolutely right. If you look at the situation, Odysseus is acting impulsively, relying on his wits and bravado, thinking he can control the outcome with the power of his charm. But this? It’s a god’s realm. The gods don’t work on your timetable. At this point, what does Odysseus’ confidence even mean? Eurylochus sees it as reckless, and I agree. Yes, Eurylochus is a bit wary of everything at this point (which might be annoying if you’re Odysseus), but it’s a valid concern. And Odysseus’ reply? It's a bit patronizing. He doesn’t respect Eurylochus’ caution. Instead of listening to his crew member, his second-in-command, Odysseus tells him to stand down and demands blind loyalty. Of course, this sets the stage for Eurylochus’ next crucial transformation. He’s now seen Odysseus as someone who doesn’t care about the real risks or the crew. People LOVE to bring up that line where Eurylochus says he opened the wind bag. Okay, okay, he messed up. But here’s the thing: he knows he messed up, and he admits it. In front of everyone. He’s not hiding it. He’s not making excuses. He’s owning up to it. And people still want to call him a hypocrite? He wasn’t the one who set the trap for the entire crew by opening that wind bag. Odysseus gave some instructions, but he knew the crew was starving and desperate. And then, on top of that, you have the winions stirring the pot, telling everyone there’s treasure in the bag? What did he think would happen? The crew wasn’t exactly in the best headspace to be taking orders from a guy who was clearly not as present as he should have been. You can’t put all the blame on Eurylochus when Odysseus didn’t exactly set them up for success. Everyone was already in a fragile place after the war, and Odysseus should have known better than to leave room for temptation. He was the leader; he should’ve anticipated how bad the temptation would be. Eurylochus gets a little too much flak for something that wasn’t entirely his fault. There’s enough blame to go around for everyone, not just one guy. All of the crew wanted to open the bag, Eurylochus was just the one who did. He represents the voice of the crew. His biggest focus becomes apparent in the Circe Saga, specifically during Puppeteer, when Eurylochus is forced into a brutal choice on Circe’s island. After the men are turned into pigs, Eurylochus has to come to terms with his decision. He’s a pragmatist. He doesn’t trust the island, doesn’t want to gamble their lives on a witch’s promises. So, when Odysseus sends him and the crew to investigate, Eurylochus doesn’t just go along for the ride, he stays behind and urges Odysseus to get out of there. But let’s remember, this moment is a turning point for Eurylochus. He’s scared, yes, but also rational. He was the one who saw the situation from a distance and thought, “This is too risky.” He’s the realist who wants to cut his losses, but it’s important to notice that his fear is the fear of losing more men, not necessarily cowardice. Unlike Odysseus, who acts out of hope, Eurylochus is practical. His attitude here reflects the trauma they’ve been through and how tired he is of losing people. That’s why his frustration boils over later when Odysseus sacrifices men — because Eurylochus has seen enough death.

Now, let’s talk about Scylla. Because this is the moment where everything Eurylochus has learned comes crashing down on him. Remember that vow Odysseus made to him earlier: “There’s no length I wouldn’t go if it was you I had to save”? Well, that sentiment sticks with Eurylochus. He takes that to heart. So when Odysseus makes the decision to sacrifice six men to Scylla, you can see why he snaps. It’s not just that Odysseus is willing to sacrifice them — it’s that he does it without warning, without giving them the choice. Eurylochus feels like Odysseus has abandoned everything he taught him about loyalty. That vow he made? Yeah, it means nothing now. Eurylochus is furious because Odysseus fails him here. He’s been teaching Eurylochus the value of every single life, yet when the time comes to uphold that belief, Odysseus throws it out the window to save himself and his pride. So, of course Eurylochus is mad. And it’s not about the six men dying (because, let’s be real, he’s no saint), it’s about the betrayal. He’s been made to believe in the cause, but now he sees Odysseus as a hypocrite. It stings, and it’s totally justified. This leads us to Mutiny. Eurylochus is right to be mad at Odysseus for sacrificing six men just to save his own skin. Don’t even try to justify that. Odysseus put his own desire to get home ahead of the lives of his crew. Eurylochus did not agree to be cannon fodder for Odysseus’ personal agenda. He wasn’t going to sit back and watch his brothers die without questioning what the heck was going on. So, when Odysseus goes full “sacrifice six for the greater good,” you bet Eurylochus was angry. He wasn’t just upset because they were going to die; he was upset because Odysseus made the decision to send them to their deaths without even consulting them. Eurylochus’ reaction is human, it’s justifiable, and it’s completely rational. He’s not a traitor, he’s someone who realizes that Odysseus’ quest for glory comes at the expense of the people he supposedly cares about. Then we get to the cattle of Helios because apparently everyone’s learnt nothing. Eurylochus has already checked out emotionally. He’s looked at the situation, and for him, the reality of their fate is clear: they’re not going to make it home. They’re already dead in a way, and the gods are just playing with them. So when faced with the opportunity to eat the cows, he sees it as a way to take some control over a situation where they’ve lost all control. His logic isn’t about doing what’s morally right in the eyes of the gods. At least if they’re going to die, they can do it on their own terms — full stomachs, no slow starvation or suffering. It’s a very bleak and cynical perspective, but it’s also realistic. And in a way, it shows a form of wisdom that Odysseus doesn’t have in this moment. Odysseus, of course, refuses to let go of hope. His entire journey is a testament to his stubbornness and unwillingness to give up. That’s his defining trait, and it’s what keeps him going, but it also blinds him to the obvious signs of doom around him. He refuses to accept that the gods are no longer in his favor, that they’ve been punished for their mistakes, and that he’s already sealed their fate. For Odysseus, admitting that they’ve lost would be admitting defeat, and that’s something he can’t stomach. So, instead of facing the reality of the situation, he doubles down on his hope and pride. Eurylochus isn’t the naive one here. He’s not playing the hero’s game. He’s real. He’s already accepted that their journey is doomed, but he refuses to be passive in that fate. He wants to take charge of how they go out. He’s not waiting for divine intervention anymore because, honestly, it hasn’t worked out so well for them so far. He’s out of options and out of faith.

But here’s the darker, more tragic implication: Eurylochus’ perspective is the voice of the crew. His attitude — “We’re never gonna make it home; we’re already doomed” — isn’t just his own individual despair; it’s shared by everyone else around him. The crew is no longer fighting for survival; they’ve been through too much. They’ve seen too many of their comrades die for a cause that seems meaningless at this point (how do you think Perimedes would feel when Elpenor died). They’ve been stranded for so long, constantly at the mercy of the gods, with no real agency over their fates. They’ve lost hope. The entire crew is in a suicidal state of mind, and Eurylochus’ willingness to eat the cows is just the worst tangible sign of that collective despair. He’s the one who finally gives voice to it, like always, but it’s a sentiment that’s been building throughout their journey. He’s come to terms with it in a way that Odysseus has not. In that sense, his desire to eat the cows is almost a form of passive suicide — an attempt to bring some meaning, some control to an already doomed situation. His actions signal a profound loss of the will to live. This attitude is contagious. When Eurylochus speaks, he’s speaking for a crew that’s also checked out, a crew that’s surrendered to the inevitable. They don’t believe in their survival anymore. They’re not thinking about glory or heroism. They’re thinking about getting something out of their final moments, about finding some form of solace in the face of certain death. They no longer care about the gods or their promises. They just want to eat, even if it means defying the divine laws. This is a crew that’s collectively suicidal, mentally exhausted, and emotionally broken. And Eurylochus, in choosing to act, becomes both the catalyst for their final downfall and the embodiment of their emotional exhaustion and surrender.

He doesn’t trust Odysseus anymore. Odysseus promised to bring them home, but where are they? They’re stranded, they’ve lost men, brothers, friends, and the gods keep throwing obstacles in their path. When Odysseus becomes a king in his eyes and no longer a brother, it’s clear: Eurylochus starts thinking about himself, and that definitely doesn’t make him a hypocrite. It makes him human. It makes him someone who’s had enough. So, when the storm hits, and Eurylochus says, “We’re going to die anyway,” it’s not just a defeatist attitude — it’s the voice of someone who’s been burned by his faith in Odysseus too many times. He finally does what Odysseus would have done if he weren’t so obsessed with getting home — he does what’s necessary for survival. It’s harsh, but it’s consistent with his struggle all along. Eurylochus isn’t a hypocrite because he speaks out against Odysseus — he’s just a man who wants to believe in loyalty, but realizes that Odysseus has never really been loyal to anyone but his wife, never his men. It’s a brutal realization, and it’s only when he lashes out in Mutiny that we see the full extent of his disillusionment.

So, before anyone calls Eurylochus a hypocrite, let’s remember that he was the one who had to deal with the consequences of Odysseus’ stubbornness and false promises. He wanted to be the loyal friend, the one who stuck by his leader. But Odysseus made it impossible. Now, he’s just a man broken by the very loyalty he once held dear.

[extinctlesspains]

Hey! :) I was wondering if u could make a continuation to the 'Party time' fic.. like the morning and the members finding out, how kwon is after that n stuff.. Thought it might be cool:)

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐴𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑦: 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑒-𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔

𝐵𝑦 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠

»»——⍟——««

»»——⍟——««

𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑇𝑤𝑜 𝑂𝑓 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑒-𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡?

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑦!

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑝𝑒𝑡 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠, 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑜�� 𝑌/𝑛.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△

The sun streamed through the hotel curtains, cutting through the haze of last night’s events. You groaned softly, shielding your eyes with your hand. The ache in your head reminded you of the mojitos... and the memories of what followed rushed back.

You turned over to see Kwon, his muscular frame relaxed and his breathing steady. His arm was draped over your waist, holding you close even in sleep. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him—so different from the arrogant jerk you'd known. It felt... intimate.

"What did I do?" you whispered to yourself, biting your lip.

Suddenly, Kwon's eyes fluttered open, a sly smirk forming on his lips. "Morning, baby," he drawled, his voice thick and low. You flushed under his gaze, memories of his touch replaying vividly in your mind.

You rolled out of bed, grabbing the nearest shirt—his shirt—to cover yourself. "Last night... that was... unexpected," you muttered, avoiding his eyes.

"Regrets already?" he teased, sitting up and stretching, his muscles flexing.

"No," you admitted, surprising even yourself. "But this... complicates things."

A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts. "Y/n? Are you in there?" It was your teammate, Sam. Your heart raced.

Kwon raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Your friends are looking for you."

"Hide!" you hissed, shoving him towards the bathroom.

Before you could open the door, Sam barged in. "There you are! We were worried sick. And—" Her eyes widened. "Why is there a guy's jacket here? And... is that a Cobra Kai shirt you're wearing?"

You swallowed hard. "It's... not what it looks like."

"Really?" Sam crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. "Did you hook up with Kwon? The Kwon?"

Before you could respond, the bathroom door opened, and there he stood, smirking. "Morning, Samantha."

Sam's jaw dropped. "You did! Oh my God. You hooked up with the enemy!"

"You've got it wrong—" you started, but she cut you off.

"Y/n, this is bad. Really bad. If Sensei finds out... or the others..." She shook her head. "What were you thinking?"

Kwon stepped forward, his usual cocky demeanor fading. "Look, it was just one night. Doesn't mean anything."

You flinched at his words, but covered it up with a glare. "Exactly. Just one night."

Sam sighed, glancing between the two of you. "You need to figure out what you’re going to tell the team. They’re already talking." She walked out, leaving the room in tense silence.

Kwon turned to you, his expression unreadable. "So, that's it then?"

You nodded, trying to ignore the ache in your chest. "Yeah. Just a mistake. One night."

He stepped closer, his voice low. "If that's what you want to believe."

And with that, he grabbed his jacket and walked out, leaving you alone again—only this time, the silence felt heavier.

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

Back at the training center, the tension was palpable. You could feel the eyes of your teammates on you, their whispers barely concealed. Every glance felt like a judgment, every silence like an accusation.

You tried to focus on your training, but your mind kept drifting back to Kwon. The way he looked at you, the way his touch had ignited something you didn’t know was there. It wasn’t just lust. It was something deeper, something dangerous.

Suddenly, your Sensei called your name. You froze, your heart pounding. Had he heard? Did he know?

"Focus, Y/n," he said, his voice stern. "Your mind is elsewhere."

You nodded, forcing yourself to concentrate. But as you moved through the drills, you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had changed. And it wasn’t over yet.

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

The training room buzzed with the sounds of sparring—grunts, footsteps, and the sharp smack of wood against flesh. You tried to lose yourself in the rhythm, focusing on the drills your sensei's had assigned. But every move felt mechanical, every strike hollow. The whispers hadn’t stopped; you could feel eyes following you, judging you.

You clenched your fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Focus, Y/n. But no matter how hard you tried, your thoughts kept drifting back to Kwon—his touch, his voice, the way his eyes seemed to see through you.

"Y/n!" Sensei’s Chozen sharp voice snapped you back to reality. "Step forward."

You swallowed hard, moving to the center of the mat. Sensei Chozen's eyes were piercing. Does he know? You felt exposed, like he could see every mistake, every moment of weakness.

"Partner up with Hawk, " he instructed. Hawk—a tall, broad-shouldered guy with a permanent scowl—stepped forward, his eyes cold. You’d always had a tense relationship, but today, it felt different. More personal.

The spar began, and Hawk came at you harder than usual. His punches were sharp, his movements aggressive. You blocked, countered, but his strikes felt fueled by something more than competition.

"You think you’re better than us?" he hissed, just low enough for only you to hear.

You narrowed your eyes. "What are you talking about?"

He smirked. "Sleeping with the enemy. Makes sense. You’re weak."

Anger flared in your chest. You dodged his next punch, striking back harder than you intended. The blow landed, sending him stumbling. The dojo fell silent.

Hawk glared at you, wiping blood from his lip. "Looks like Cobra Kai’s rubbing off on you."

Sensei Chozen's voice cuts through the tension. "Enough! Both of you. Take a break."

You stormed out, your heart pounding. The whispers followed you out the door.

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

You leaned against the cool brick wall, trying to catch your breath. The anger still simmered, but beneath it was something else—guilt, confusion. How had one night turned everything upside down?

"Rough day?" The voice made you jump. Kwon leaned against the wall, arms crossed, that infuriating smirk on his lips.

"What are you doing here?" you hissed, glancing around. If anyone saw you...

He shrugged. "Came to see how you’re holding up. Word travels fast."

You scoffed. "You mean, you wanted to gloat."

He stepped closer, his expression softening. "No. I wanted to make sure you’re okay."

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. "Why do you care?"

He hesitated, something flickering in his eyes. "Maybe I shouldn’t. But I do."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension between you crackled like electricity. You hated how he got under your skin, how easily he made you forget the lines between right and wrong.

"This can’t happen again," you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

He leaned in, his voice low. "Then why are you shaking?"

You clenched your jaw, stepping back. "Because I know this is a mistake. And I can’t afford any more mistakes."

He nodded, but there was a challenge in his eyes. "You keep saying that. But what if it’s not a mistake? What if it’s just... different?"

You didn’t have an answer. Before you could respond, the door to the building opened, and Sam stepped out. Her eyes widened when she saw Kwon.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she spat.

Kwon smirked, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Relax. I was just leaving."

He brushed past her, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer. "See you around, Y/n."

Sam watched him go, then turned to you. "Are you out of your mind? What if one of our sensei's saw him?"

You ran a hand through your hair. "He didn’t. And it’s... complicated."

She shook her head. "No. It’s simple. He’s the enemy. And you need to remember that."

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

The evening air was cool, the stadium lights casting long shadows over the empty tournament grounds. You’d come here to clear your head, but the silence only made the noise in your mind louder.

"You shouldn’t be here alone." Kwon’s voice echoed from the shadows.

You didn’t turn around. "Are you following me now?"

He stepped into the light, his expression serious. "Maybe. Or maybe I just knew you’d be here."

You crossed your arms, the distance between you feeling too wide, too narrow all at once. "Why, Kwon? What do you want from me?"

He hesitated, then took a step closer. "I don’t know. But I can’t get you out of my head. And I don’t think you can get me out of yours either."

Your breath caught. He was right, and you hated it. "This... whatever this is... it’s dangerous."

He nodded. "Yeah. It is." He took another step, his eyes locked on yours. "But maybe that’s what makes it real."

The space between you disappeared. His hand brushed your cheek, his touch gentle, almost hesitant. You leaned into it, just for a moment, before reality crashed back in.

"We can’t," you whispered.

He sighed, pulling back. "I know." He turned to leave, but paused. "But that doesn’t mean it’s over."

As he walked away, you watched him go, your heart pounding. This was far from over. And you weren’t sure you wanted it to be.

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EEEEE im actually so proud of this one. I spent two days on it so I REALLY hope u guys like it😭💕 also should I maybe do a part 3??? 🤔🤔 lemme know

edit: Part THREE is out Now!!!

[damiansgoodgirll]

don’t break my heart part 9 ❤️❤️❤️

WE ARE BACK BABY!

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8

terror twins x platonic!reader, the judgment day x platonic!reader , drew mcintyre x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️SMUT!!! so stay away kids , aftercare, mention of loneliness, fear of abandonment, depression, panic attacks, anxiety, fear of rejection‼️

DON’T BREAK MY HEART - PART 9

“what did rhea do?” damian asked a little confused.

“she hates me…” you whispered, your voice broken from crying.

“she doesn’t hate you, she could never” the man knew how close you two were so he found it impossible for her to even hate you.

“did she say something?” drew asked.

“she was disappointed…she got mad cause she lost, she wanted me to help her out when raquel appeared but i didn’t, i couldn’t, both hunter and adam forbidden me to go otherwise we would be risking a month fine…but maybe i was wrong, i should have risked it for her, she’s always been there for me and the one time she needed me i wasn’t there…” your soft voice echoed in the room as some tears kept falling down.

“listen to me hermosa, she doesn’t hate you, she could never hate you, yes, she’s stubborn and proud but she will never hate you, i’ll talk to her and we’ll figure it out” damian’s words somehow reassured you and you relaxed a little more into drew’s touch.

……………

“priest” rhea called him when she saw him in the hotel lobby.

“what did you tell her?” he asked, straight to the point.

rhea knew exactly what he was talking about “listen i…”

“no, you listen to me. what the fuck happened? why did you have to blame her? was it really her fault or you couldn’t accept that you lost?” maybe damian was being too hard on her but he knew it was the only way to make rhea understand her mistake “you screamed at her? rhea what the fuck? seriously?”

“listen i’m so fucking sorry about what happened, i wasn’t thinking”

“yeah, you weren’t thinking! rhea, you know better than to scream at her, you fucking scared her. you better apologise to her or we are gonna have a problem…” damian was serious about this, about you. he always cared about you, about your well being and seeing you so torn down because of something his best friend did was making him even angrier.

“i will apologise to her, i will, i promise” rhea felt guilty. she knew she went too far. she regretted saying those words the moment she saw the fear in your eyes. the moment she saw the tears in your eyes. she felt sick, as if she was a monster “how is she?”

“she’s with drew now, she’s in good hands” damian didn’t want to talk about the painful panic attack you had earlier, it pained him too much and the idea of having you crying in his mind was enough to make him sad again.

“he’s good for her” rhea softly smiled, thinking about how much she wanted to protect you from drew at first and how now he was the one protecting you from her.

“yeah…” damian softly smiled “rhea, you apologise” he reminded her.

“i will, first thing in the morning, she needs to rest now, i feel like we all need to rest” the woman said, feeling all of her pain in her body.

“absolutely…whatever happens, call me” damian said before saying goodbye to rhea as they all approached their rooms.

unbeknownst to them, liv and dom heard the whole conversation and they knew what cards to play in the future as they were already plotting a sweet revenge to make you and rhea hate each other. liv didn’t really care about what happened between the two of you but her interest was caught when damian said that she scared you, that you got afraid of her and that is what she’s going to use to bring you on her team and let you leave rhea’s graces for once.

in the meantime drew helped you changing in some fresh clothes and getting you ready for bed.

“i’m so tired…” you yawned.

“i am too, and i barely died out there” he joked making you laugh.

“how are you feeling? does your head hurt?” you asked him, a little worried.

“it hurts a little…nothing i can’t handle” he smirked making you smile a little.

“you got me so worried out there…”

he looked at you. he knew the hell in a cell match was going to take a big tool on him but he didn’t really think much about you and his family might have been affected by that too. “i know…i’m sorry…” he felt a little guilty.

“it’s okay…at least you are here…” you softly smiled before let his big arms wrapping you close to his body.

“rest love…” he whispered and before you could even realize it, you were already falling asleep.

…………

as the sun came out, you lazily stretched your legs and arms into the bed. slowly realizing that drew wasn’t next to you, instead he left a note.

i have a check up visit this morning, i probably won’t be there when you wake up. you looked too peaceful for me to wake you up so i let you sleep. enjoy your free morning, i’ll see you in a couple of hours.

love,

- drew

you smiled, thinking about how he even took time writing you a note instead of a simple text message.

you weren’t surprised to find yourself in the gym early that morning. after the way last night had gone, you needed the distraction and the fact that you had time for yourself, you needed that distraction more than ever.

rhea had been pissed - more than pissed. your mind kept thinking about last night. she had yelled at you, voice sharp and cutting, frustration pouring out of her in a way you hadn’t expected. you didn’t even know where it had come from. yes, she was mad because she lost but you never expected her to be that mad.

she was going off, anger spilling out before she finally stormed off, leaving you standing there with your heart sinking.

you hadn’t slept much after that. even drew could sense it - probably the reason he didn’t wake you up when he left.

so here you were, throwing yourself into your workout, trying to shake the tension still sitting heavy in your chest. you didn’t hear her come in, but you felt it the moment she was near.

“hey…”

you turned, catching sight of rhea standing a few feet away, looking…regretful. her usual confidence was dimmed and she was fidgeting with her wrist wraps.

you didn’t say anything, just waited.

she sighed, running a hand through her dark hair “i fucked up.”

you stayed quiet.

rhea exhaled, stepping closer “i shouldn’t have yelled at you last night. i was mad about other shit and i took it out on you. i blamed you and that wasn’t fair” her voice softened “you’re my best friend, and i messed up.”

the sincerity in her voice cracked something in you. the anger you had been holding onto wavered, replaced by something else.

“yeah…” you muttered, still a little guarded “you did.”

rhea nodded, accepting it “i’m sorry, really.”

for a moment, you just stared at her, weighing the words, the emotion behind them. you knew you couldn’t stay mad, then, finally, you sighed and nudged her shoulder.

“you owe me a coffee…”

a grin tugged at the corner of her lips “done”

just like that, the weight between you started to lift “so…drew?” she asked, already knowing what she wanted to know and you pretended you didn’t hear that.

………..

as months passed, your bond with drew grew stronger and closer. he took time off to cool down after the injuries he sustained during the match and you were managing life between work and home.

you got used to the little routine of coming back home from a trip and being spoiled by drew’s cooking or drew’s hands massaging your body after a rough match.

in those time you also got yourself a title opportunity to be the first women us champion and you couldn’t believe that you were the finalist for that title.

drew couldn’t be happier. rhea and damian too. things were finally starting to work.

no nightmares. no panic attacks. no anxiety. just a lot of love and support from the people you loved the most and you couldn’t be more grateful.

drew also had a match the same night you were fighting for the championship and you actually were so excited to see him fighting again.

the energy backstage was electric. the whole night had been leading up to this - two huge matches, two moments that could change everything. and somehow, you and drew were both right in the middle of it.

your match was up next, but you weren’t thinking about that yet. right now, your eyes were locked on the monitor, heart pounding as you watched drew in the ring with sami.

it had been a war. neither of them had held back and you had winced more than once watching drew take hit after hit. but he had powered through - like he always did - and now, after one final claymore that nearly took sami’s head off, drew had done it.

the referee’s hand hit the mat. one, two, three.

you didn’t even think - you just cheered, grinning as you watched him push himself up, chest rising and falling, sweat dripping from his forehead. the crowd was going insane, his music blasting through the arena.

you knew how much this meant to him. you knew how hard he had worked, how much he had needed this win. his big comeback and he brought the victory home.

but suddenly now it was your turn.

your match was a blur of adrenaline and instinct. you fought with everything you had, pushing past exhaustion, past the ache in your muscles, past the voice in your head telling you to slow down. because this was history. this was your moment. your big opportunity to show everyone you could do it.

your big push.

to show your family, your fake friends “i made it.”

and when the final bell rang, when the referee raised your hand and handed you the brand-new united states women’s championship, you barely had time to process it before you turned toward the entrance ramp where drew was standing, watching.

he had changed out of his gear, but his hair was still damp, and his eyes - god, his eyes were shining with pride.

you barely had time to breathe before he was in the ring, arms around you, lifting you off your feet as the crowd roared.

“you did it…” he murmured, voice rough with emotion.

“we did” you corrected, gripping the title with one hand and holding onto him with the other.

you didn’t care if you didn’t come out yet with your relationship. it was pretty obvious now to everyone that you were together. making liv and raquel plans to destroy you and rhea go to hell - as they wanted to bring your secret relationship with drew into their mess.

rhea and damian were watching backstage like proud parents.

“she did it…” damian whispered, rhea nodding along.

drew was still holding you as confetti and fireworks echoed through the arena.

you just made history.

you both had your moments tonight. but this - this moment with him, was the one you’d remember forever.

“this is gonna go down as the best thing that happened in the company for years” drew whispered in your ear making you laugh.

as soon as you both got backstage, the noise from the crowd still echoing in your ears, drew didn’t waste a second.

before you could fully process everything, he grabbed your wrist, pulled you into him, and kissed you.

it wasn’t just any kiss. it was deep, slow, full of every emotion from the night. pride, relief, love.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours as you were barely standing on your feet and you could feel his breath mix with yours.

“i’m so proud of you…” he murmured, voice low and rough. his hands found your waist, thumbs brushing soft circles against your skin “first-ever us women’s champion…love, you made history tonight.”

you smiled, looking shortly at the shiny belt in your hands as still breathless you whispered “so did you. you killed it out there.”

he chuckled, shaking his head “watching you win felt better than my own match.”

you rolled your eyes but felt your heart squeeze at his words. before you could say anything, you both heard your names being called from different directions. media time.

he groaned, pressing another quick kiss to your lips before stepping back “guess we gotta go be professional now.”

you smirked “don’t sound too excited.”

with one last glance at each other, you split off. drew heading toward his interview, and you toward yours.

hours later, after the whirlwind of interviews, - asking you both of how you felt about the victory and how long you and drew had been dating - photos and endless congratulations, you finally made it back to the locker room and took a quick shower before going straight to the hotel.

the moment you stepped inside the room, you let out a heavy sigh, kicking off your shoes and tossing your championship onto the bed. your whole body ached, but it was the best kind of exhaustion.

drew came in behind you, shutting the door and immediately pulling you into him from behind, arms wrapping around your waist.

“long night” he murmured against your shoulder.

“worth it…definitely worth it” you sighed, leaning back into him.

he hummed in agreement before gently guiding you toward the bed “c’mon, let’s get some rest, champ.”

you smirked as you climbed into bed “you too, champ.”

he chuckled, sliding in beside you, pulling you close.

“tonight was just the beginning” he whispered.

and as you lay there, wrapped up in each other, title resting nearby, you knew he was right.

“i guess so…” you knew he was right and from that moment you were going to prove yourself even more.

you looked up at him for a moment, admiring him in all of his glory.

“what?” he smirked down at you.

“oh, nothing…is just, you’re so handsome. and strong. and tall…” you smirked back “i wonder how did i manage to pull you.”

“i’m the one who’s winning in this relationship you know? i’m the one wondering how someone old like me managed to pull someone so gracious and perfect like you…” - you thought for a moment about his words.

“we’re just soulmates i guess.”

he never believed in soulmates. he never believed in love at first sight but he knew he was fucked the moment you two got closer. you were like a drug to him and he couldn’t get enough of you. “come here…” he whispered softly as you shifted from his side to his lap.

“feeling nasty tonight uh?” you teased making him laugh.

“it’s you.”

his smirk deepened, but he didn’t say anything, at least not with words. instead, he tilted your chin up, catching your lips in a slow kiss.

it started soft, teasing, but it didn’t stay that way.

drew’s hand slid up your back, pulling you against him and you gasped against his mouth.

that was all the invitation he needed.

before you could process it, he was shifting, strong hands gripping your waist as he effortlessly hold you closer onto his lap.

his huge lap. you almost vanished in comparison.

you swallowed hard, thighs straddling his as his hands settled on your hips, holding you in place.

“that’s better…” he murmured against your lips before kissing you again, hungrier this time.

you melted into him, your fingers playing through his long hair, tugging just enough to earn a low growl from deep in his chest. his hands moved, slipping under your shirt, rough palms dragging over soft skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

you could feel him - all of him - beneath you, hard and warm, and it made your head spin.

he kissed down your jaw, his beard scraping deliciously against your skin, making you shiver.

“you’re incredible, you know that?” he muttered against your neck, voice thick with want “everything about you drives me insane.”

“drew…”

he hummed in response, lips trailing lower.

you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, heart pounding, cheeks flushed.

were you ready?

“i’m ready…” you whispered.

he knew what you meant by that.

that’s why he stopped all of his movements. he looked at you. trying to see if you were being serious or if you were playing with him.

“you sure love?” his hand softly pressed against your cheek.

“yeah…” your voice below a whisper.

you were being serious.

when realization dawned, his expression softened even more.

“i’m asking you again…are you sure?” his voice was gentle, like he didn’t want to push, didn’t want to assume.

you nodded, chewing your lip “i’ve thought about it a lot and i trust you, drew. i trust you more than anyone.”

suddenly you felt shy sitting there on his lap after the confession.

his brows furrowed slightly, like your words meant more to him than he knew how to express. he knew how much you struggled with words and opening up.

he exhaled, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin “love, you don’t have to do this for me. we don’t have to rush anything.”

“i know…” you whispered “but i want you to be the one. i don’t want to wait for something that already feels so right.”

his jaw clenched for a moment, like he was holding back emotion. then, slowly, he leaned in, pressing the softest kiss to your forehead.

“thank you…” he murmured “for trusting me with this.”

you felt a lump in your throat at the way he looked at you - like you were the most precious thing in the world.

he shifted, sitting up slightly, his fingers still stroking your cheek “before anything happens, i need you to know something.”

you sat up straight too, heart fluttering “okay.”

this is getting even more serious - you thought.

his hand found yours, lacing your fingers together “this isn’t just a moment for me. this matters and it’s not just about tonight - it’s about every night after because i’m not going anywhere.”

tears pricked at your eyes at the sheer certainty in his voice.

no one ever stayed for you.

not your family, not your second family - the judgment day - but he was willing to stay.

you squeezed his hand “i don’t want anyone else, drew. just you.”

he smiled then, leaning in to kiss you slow and deep, full of promise. when he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.

“then let’s take our time…”he whispered “i want you to feel comfortable love.”

you nodded,speechless. the way he was treating you with such care.

the room felt warmer, softer somehow, as drew cradled your face between his hands. his touch was gentle, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if memorizing the feel of your skin.

he gently moved you from his lap to beneath his large body

“we can go as slow as you want” he murmured, his deep voice low and soothing “remember, you are the one in charge tonight…”

“just tonight?” you teased him.

“love…” he smiled “i’m trying to be as good as possible with you tonight…”

“fine, i’ll behave” you nodded, heart pounding, but it wasn’t from fear. it was anticipation, love. trust.

he kissed you again, slow and lingering, his lips moving against yours like he had all the time in the world. and in this moment, it felt like he did.

his hands traced down your arms, to your waist, pulling you closer, but never rushing. he let you lead, let you set the pace.

“can i undress you love?” he softly asked, making sure you still wanted to go on. you softly said yes and that was all he needed to hear.

as he slowly undressed you, his fingers trembled slightly, not from nerves but from reverence. he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and the way his eyes softened made you feel like you were.

for the first time in your life, you didn’t feel scared, ashamed. laying underneath his body completely naked as he watched you mesmerized.

he kissed every inch of skin he uncovered, taking his time, making sure you felt safe, cherished.

starting from your neck, moving down to your collarbone and chest. softly kissing your hard nipples and making you whimper as you tried not to be too loud.

every touch, every movement, was filled with love - not just desire, but something deeper, something unspoken yet completely understood.

“you’re perfect” he whispered against your skin as his lips moved lower - and the way he said it made you believe it.

you let yourself melt into him, into the warmth of his body, the steady strength of his arms. every kiss sent a shiver down your spine, not from uncertainty, but from the overwhelming intimacy of it all.

he kissed your thighs, softly, teeth grazing your now reddened skin. he looked up at you one last time.

your eyes fully closed, mouth slightly opened - that was all he needed before his lips met your clit.

a loud whimper left your lips. not used to this feeling, you felt warm and fuzzy.

“you taste like heaven…” he whispered mostly to himself. as if you could focus on what he was saying. too lost in pleasure to even notice that he spoke to you, your hands instinctively grabbed the sheets underneath your body.

you weren’t used to be loud. to moan. to let your voice out but before you could overthink yourself, drew asked you to be loud as possibly.

“don’t hold back love” he whispered “i want to hear your pretty moans…” - and the way he said it, his strong thick accent, how could you say no?

so the moment his tongue found your clit again, you let out a deep breath “fuck…drew” as you bit your lips.

he held you close, whispering soft reassurances as his tongue was working over your clit. him telling you how much he loved you, how much you meant to him “let go for me love…i can feel how close you are…” and you did. you trusted him and you let go.

he licked every single drop of your juices, not leaving your thighs until you calmed down.

the moment your breath got back to normal, he raised from your legs. his hair completely messed up, his face covered in your juices and his eyes staring at you with a mix of love and lust.

his forehead pressed against yours, breaths mingling, hearts beating in sync.

his heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to explode any minute.

“you sure you wanna go on?” he asked one last time, looking for any doubt in your eyes.

“i’m sure drew” you said, looking straight at him.

“i’ve got you” he murmured, his voice full of emotion, of promise “i’ll be as slow as possible…if at any point you want me to stop you say so and i’ll stop, got it?” he asked and you nodded “if it hurts you tell me, okay?” and you nodded once again “good…” he smirked, gently kissing your lips, making you taste yourself on his tongue.

the air between you was thick with anticipation, the kind that made your skin tingle, your breath catch in your throat.

he slowly lifted himself up to be able to undress himself and he made sure that you were able to see all of it.

his fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, slow and deliberate. each inch of skin he revealed made your heart race, your mouth dry.

you had seen him like this before, of course- backstage, after matches, in hotel rooms just like this. but this was different. this wasn’t just drew mcintyre, the wrestler, the larger-than-life powerhouse. this was drew, the man who loved you, the man who looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

he removed the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and god, he was breathtaking.

strong arms, every muscle defined - not just from years of wrestling, but from the way he moved, the way he carried himself. but it wasn’t just about how he looked. it was him. the warmth in his eyes, the quiet confidence, the way he watched you, like he wanted to see every reaction, every flicker of awe on your face.

he smirked slightly, amused by your silence “you okay there, love?”

you blinked, realizing you had been staring - hard.

heat rose to your cheeks, but you didn’t look away. instead, you let your eyes trail lower as his hands moved to his belt, unfastening it with the same unhurried pace.

“i…yeah” you breathed, barely able to get the words out.

he chuckled softly, the sound deep and rich, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

the belt slid free, landing somewhere on the floor and then his fingers moved to the button of his jeans, popping it open, lowering the zipper.

your breath hitched.

he noticed.

his smirk faded into something softer, something deeper.

“you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, stepping closer, his fingers brushing your knee as he leaned in just enough to make your heart stutter.

you swallowed hard, nodding “just… you’re - you’re beautiful.”

his expression changed completely like your words had caught him off guard, like they meant more to him than he could put into words.

he cupped your cheek, thumb stroking over your skin “you’re the only one i want to be beautiful for” and as he leaned in to kiss you, slow and tender, you knew he meant every single word.

he was standing there with only his boxers on. you could feel his hard cock even if it was covered by his clothes.

he brought your hand slowly next to him, to feel him “see? look what you done to me” he teased.

“we better do something about it then…” you slowly bit your lips.

in a swift move he let his boxers fell on the ground, freeing his huge dick.

your mouth slightly opened.

you knew he was big, you just didn’t expect him to be that big.

“we will take it slow, remember” he reminded you and you nodded.

you laid back on the bed as he hovered over you. he was watching every move you made.

he traced his hands down your body, featherlight touches that made your skin tingle.

“tell me if anything feels wrong” he whispered, forehead resting against yours “promise me.”

you nodded “i promise.”

he kissed you again, and when the moment finally came, he was impossibly gentle. the tip first, making you gasp a little.

his lips found yours as he pushed into you. you suddenly clenched on his length - as he was expecting - making it even harder for him to focus.

“breathe…” he reminded you and you nodded.

it hurt a little and he probably realized that too. he let you adjust to his size. he let you take your time. he didn’t move until you said so.

“you can move…” you whispered slowly.

he nodded, his lips kissing you deeply as you melt into him.

he moved slowly, pausing to check on you, his hand threading through yours, grounding you. his eyes never left your face, watching every reaction, making sure you were okay.

it was new, different, intense but not in a way that scared you, more in a way that made your heart swell, made your entire body feel alive.

he whispered your name like it was the most sacred thing in the world. kissed you like you were the most precious thing he had ever held.

and when your body adjusted to him, when the tension faded into something natural, something right, you felt it - the connection. deeper than touch, deeper than anything you had ever known. not the pain, not the burning sensation, just the pure connection with the man you loved.

he held you close, his breath mingling with yours, his fingers laced with yours.

“you okay?” he asked again, softer this time, like he already knew the answer but needed to hear it anyway.

you smiled, eyes shining “more than okay.”

he let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“good” he whispered, voice thick with emotion “because this, us, this means everything to me.”

“i love you drew…now make me yours” there was something shifting in his eyes the moment you said those words.

he moved his hips harder, making you moan even louder.

your hands moved from the sheets to his shoulders, your fingers slowly marking his back, making him growl into your ears.

“i’m so close…” you moaned looking up at him.

“then let go for me baby…” and for the second time that night you came. this time moaning his name as your nails scratched his back.

he followed you soon. trying to not make a mess, he finished jerking his cock a few times before spilling onto your stomach and thighs. he wanted to feel you so bad but being your first time he didn’t want to traumatize you.

as you both laid there breathless, drew softly kissed your shoulder.

“are you okay baby?” he softly said whispered against your skin. you slowly turned your head to look up at him and noticed how good he looked. his hair all messy and sweat dripping from his head.

he was incredible.

you nodded at his question, letting yourself melt into him “yeah… that was amazing…i’m just tired.”

he let out a small chuckle, the vibration rumbling through his chest “figured” he murmured, his fingers brushing damp strands of hair from your forehead.

but still, he wasn’t done taking care of you.

without a word, he shifted, moving carefully as he sat up “stay here, love” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before slipping out of bed.

you watched as he disappeared into the bathroom, the soft sound of running water filling the room. when he returned, he had a warm washcloth in his hand, his expression focused, gentle.

he kneeled on the bed beside you, his large hands brushing against your thighs and stomach as he cleaned you up, taking his time, being so careful.

“don’t want you to be uncomfortable” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your knee as he worked.

your chest swelled with something warm, something softer than anything you had ever felt before.

when he was done, he tossed the cloth aside and pulled the covers up over you before climbing back into bed. but instead of pulling you back against him, he disappeared again - only for a moment as he was looking for something in the mini fridge.

when he returned, he had a bottle of water in his hand, offering it to you “drink, sweetheart.”

you gave him a sleepy smile, taking a few sips before handing it back.

finally, he settled in next to you, wrapping you in his arms, pulling you so close you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back.

his lips found your shoulder again, leaving soft, lazy kisses as his fingers traced patterns along your arm.

“you did so good, i’m so proud of you love”he whispered, his voice barely above a breath “so perfect.”

your heart fluttered, warmth spreading through your chest.

you turned in his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. “thank you” you murmured against his skin, your voice barely audible.

he smiled, his arms tightening around you “thank you for trusting me to be your first, i love you…sleep tight baby.”

and as you drifted off, safe in his arms, you knew there was no place in the world you’d rather be.

……………

a couple of days later you both returned home. you needed to grab a few things from your apartment before going straight to drew’s home - more like your home too now.

as you unpacked the dirty clothes and fill up the washing machine, you took a few minutes for yourself. thinking about all the things that happened in the past few days. your fight with rhea. rhea apologising for hurting you. drew and damian being there for you. drew making you feel like you were the most special person in the world. you felt alive for the first time in many years.

you felt like everything was finally coming back together.

you smiled as you played some music on your phone as you kept doing home chores.

filling up your bag with more clothes that eventually you were going to leave at drew’s, you decided to check your mailbox since it’s been weeks you’ve done that.

nothing really special or now about your mails except for a letter that caught your attention.

subject: notice of legal proceedings

dear [y/n’s name],

i am writing to formally notify you that our firm, representing your parents in a legal matter concerning an outstanding financial obligation they claim is owed by you.

according to our clients this obligation remains unpaid, and despite previous discussions our clients sustained you had in the past, they have not received repayment or a resolution regarding this matter. as a result, they have initiated legal proceedings against you to recover the amount in question.

you are hereby notified that a court hearing has been scheduled regarding this claim.

we strongly advise that you seek legal representation to review this matter and respond accordingly. if you wish to discuss a potential resolution before the hearing, please contact our office at your earliest convenience.

failure to appear in court on the specified date may result in a default judgment against you. if you require any additional details or clarification, do not hesitate to reach out.

this letter serves as a formal notification of the pending legal action. we encourage you to take the necessary steps to address this matter appropriately.

sincerely,

mister john waller.

you felt like your soul just left your body.

what payment? what previous discussions? what money? you owe them nothing.

background music long forgotten as drew was calling your phone. but your eyes couldn’t leave the letter in your hands.

your parents, your own blood, your own family was taking you to court and there was nothing you couldn’t do to stop them.