#I WAS STRESSED FOR A SECOND BC OF HER OKAY
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bluebellhairpin · 5 months ago
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okay so i'm offically up to the hashira training arc, but i'm gonna wait until the dub releases (bc i'm lazy) bc then i'm not gonna threaten myself with binge fatigue :))
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runawaymun · 7 months ago
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#sorry let me rant real quick in the tags#cw personal#once again hitting an insurance pothole bc the psych says she accepts my OHP plan HOWEVER the therapy group she is contacted with says#THEY don't#they only accept the insurance if it's through my employer but NOT through the government??????????????#so there's still some kind of payment???#anyway I want to scream why is this so complicated#like will she take my insurance or not who's right here#anyway called her back directly and went to voicemail so now I've done all I can for now#why the hell is this so hard man#the person on the phone didn't know really how to explain#once again no one knows what they're talking about#like can y'all not communicate and figure this out?#AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH#i need to get an ADHD eval before my next PCP appointment in june so that they will continue giving me my meds#and the psychiatry through the hospital has a limited number of visits that insurance will cover#*contracted#not retyping all of that#and once again the only reason this is so stressful is because the psychiatry group at the hospital fumbled the communication ball last tim#and the psychiatrist I was with never put the ADHD on the chart#and now somehow it's MY responsibility to fix that>#UGH#like I am grateful to have some kind of coverage but holy shit is the US healthcare system in shambles#the bureaucracy is INSANE#i had to just sit down and put my head in my hands for a second#and then go 'right okay nothing i can do about that rn moving on'#uGH#literally said 'what the FUCK' out loud a couple times#like not on the phone after I hung up obvs
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jentlemahae · 9 months ago
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#okay i need to vent a second#im literally heartbroken rn#this friend of mine just told me that she feels that ‘our friendship is starting to revolve around me’ bcs i asked her to help me once with#wheelchair practice and i was late to a meet up once and i am genuinely without words rn#like she’s been late multiple times and i’ve always let it go bcs i don’t think it’s that big of a deal but im late once and suddenly im an#awful friend#and yeah i need some more accommodations than most people but i feel like it’s obvious why#and to say that it weighs on u is genuinely cruel to me#cause i always try to make myself smaller so i dont bother people and u know that very well so to call me a weight is the cruelest thing#and she said that she feels like our friendship now is just about me discovering the world and her just being there#an insane thing to say when she knows how hellish these past years have been for me and how now im finally able to go out#it’s like am i not allowed to be happy?#i am so sad but also so angry#also the fact that she sent me this when she knows i’ve just started uni and im so stressed and overwhelmed is just beyond me#like does she even like me? does she care about me? she claims she does and then does this like wth#and i dont wanna be a bad friend and maybe she’s right and i am but im trying my best here#and im always there for her when she needs me so i dont get why she’s trying to make it seem like im not#like idek how to answer her#this is really not what i needed rn
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lostandbackagain · 1 year ago
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dustfinger: I love all of my children equally, brianna, farid, and [looks at smudged writing on hands] john
#tcor spoilers#HATE that there was no actual resolution this#i understand fully that it can be difficult when your partner's child (who is not also yours) looks like their other parent#feelings are hard to change! sure!#but: roxane is friends with her husband's affair partner. atp he has no right to show any hurt over her remarrying#and that includes taking it out on jehan#he doesnt say himself that theres any resentment (which is odd bc he loves telling us all his shitty thiughts usually; too stressed out#for self reflection right this second?)#but nyame talks about how obvious and infuriating it is#not to say jehan's making it up (i would never never never doubt my babiest boy) but it's bad enough that people outside the family see it#('outside the family' it's his uncle but outside the home ig)#where was i going with this#having a was-hoping-id-find-the-end-of-this-thought-when-i-came-to-it moment#oh right the lack of self reflection made me wonder if dustfinger knew he was acting like this at all#and i was PRAYING for nyame to chew him out over it#there were so many good spots for that conversation too#when df was practically dead for the third time and jehan stayed with him to make sure he didnt actually die#i expected 'i dreamed about you burning alive every night for ten years' levels of dustfinger being yelled at from jehan#and we literally?? didnt get a single chapter from either of their povs at that time?? what the actual fuck man#okay not to be like 'i could write this better' but a way more satisfying conclusion to everything that started#with nyame saying the two of them are so similar#would have been [jehan rightly makes dustfinger feel bad about continuing to be a terrible father] -> [jehan storms off to orpheus' to#'offer' dustfinger in exchange for the book but the adults dont know where he went] -> [nyame comes back and also yells at df#for letting his kid run off and drive home that he really is failing jehan and points out to him their similarities] ->#[df goes oh shit i also tried trading innocent people for a book] ->#[whatever. resolution]#do u see what i mean#his ~apology~ to meggie in book 2 is so good while being in character#and he cant apologize to his stepson? he barely fking knew meggie lmao#says kenna
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lilgynt · 4 months ago
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happy day late anniversary of that dude stealing TWO expensive foot wraps bc i have a beautiful ass
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sapphosclown · 10 months ago
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this is to the girl who looked at me weird in my english class because i wasn��t done writing a fun fact on my card when she told me they were passing them
fuck you i have no ability to perceive myself and was not ready to write a fun fact in my card and i did not need your blank stare and judgement i just needed another fucking minute okay. leave me alone. fuck you.
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fleurdov · 2 months ago
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i ran out of tags room that’s how you know this is serious krkdkdkkdlx but i was thinking!
actually you know what rory is that girl!!
bc think about it this rich kids could of definitely just paid each other to lie and get her out expeditiously like they obviously have the resources for that and blackmail! it makes no sense to attack rory?? but i guess? she bothers yeji sooooo much they got this whole elaborate plan to pay off the houses, take her man, make her crash out by taking her friends, spy on her and all the other things i’m forgetting to mention not to mention during this plan seonghwa definitely gets something outta this, she’s still got guys to be at her beck and call, she’s maintaining good grades and her scholarship, two situationships (1 whole is a snake and the other is a rat and is in love with her but okay)and 2 heartbreaks,all while being in a house full of rats and then sneaking out to go into another house full of snakes praying on her downfall. and on top of that! the girls are still telling her she should be president! yea she is that girl! she’s not thriving and she’s definitely falling down fighting for her life but she’s like that girl to cause all that conversation nonetheless kfkcklclclx
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That one fucked you over last year, this one is fucking you over this year, you had no idea she was involved with him, someone over here has been lying to you, you didn't mean to end up in that ones bed, he told you he loved you... Does anyone even trust anyone anymore?
👫 -> college!teez x fem!reader/oc {frat/sorority} #️⃣ -> 16k exact. (part SEVEN of ???) good luck. ‼️ -> 18+, sexual content, drugs/alcohol, college life, all the drama, heavy angst, infidelity adjacent moments, mean boys, mean girls, mentions of anxiety/depression… IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!
{ there are names & faces in here that come from NMWID <3 }
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september 23rd ~ monday ~ 11:20 a.m.
“I’ll take a shot of vodka, or something else, whatever you’ve got.”
Theo smiled, then shook his head, leaning over the counter toward you.
“You can get that later down the street,” he said. “Want me to surprise you if you aren’t gonna make a decision?”
Clasping your hand over your hoodie you shrugged. “Please.”
Getting to work, he sent the occasional glance over his shoulder. “You’re in a weird mood, what happened?” He wrapped his hand around a large sized cup and took it to the espresso machine. “What’s happened since Friday, I should say.”
A lot, you wanted to say. You’ve realized you’ve fallen in love with a boy who was your best friend, said boy has snuck onto your roof and confessed his love for you, you’re both set to ‘break up’ with people you aren’t even together with, and all the meanwhile the boys girl has started a lie that has now spread throughout the ITZ house.
Nothing has been said to Yunho or Tori as of yet, you were meeting Tori for lunch after your noon classes so you would tell her there. The video had to still be up on Chan's profile, those things lasted for twenty four hours. She was a liar, Mina was. Though you can’t piece together at the moment why she would lie about something like this. Chan is her brother, and he’s apparently been through many struggles in his lifetime.
Your father has been through many struggles in his lifetime, never once do you ever use his shit as an excuse for your behavior, nor would you ever use his shit as a way to warp people’s minds, their feelings. The beings in both houses knew little of your dad, aside from Yunho, Tori and unfortunately Wooyoung. You’re sure Mingi knew a little something, he’s dating Tori, but you don’t care what he knew. If he’s trustworthy enough to date Tori, he’s trustworthy to know who and what your father is.
Mina’s pretty, she’s smart, she comes from a good family. Why would she lie?
Pulling out your phone you open a thread of messages and type away.
[you]: we have to talk about something questionable
It took him three seconds to respond.
[youknow everythin]: This is how you answer my good morning text? What did you just wake up?
[you]: i’m at blend i have a class in thirty
[you]: i’m sorry i didn’t answer, i read it before i got in the shower
[youknow everythin]: Take me in the shower with you, duh
[you]: you are such a boy
[you]: any mina updates
[youknow everythin]: She’s hurting. I told you last night what she was saying, her brother and all that. I got the full run down. She was keeping a lot from me this summer.
You tried real hard to not let those words tug at your heart.
[youknow everythin]: You know what it made me think of? That psych thing or whatever it is, the invisible child thing? Where one childs needs are so great that the other kid kind of goes unnoticed? But… Not totally unnoticed, they’re just more self sufficient? I feel like that’s Mina. She just needs someone to see her.
That made your stomach feel weird.
And not because of his last sentence.
Because you understood.
You didn’t have any siblings, but you had to grow up pretty self-sufficient.
[you]: damn i didn’t think of it like that
[you]: makes me feel like a bitch for what i’m about to say
[youknow everythin]: Tell me
“You are so out of it,” Theo said, handing the beautifully decorated coffee over to you. With whipped cream on the top he swirled caramel around it. Looking up at him, he gave you a smile and stepped away from the counter to take care of another customer who had appeared beside you while you were focused on your screen. 
“I’m sorry,” you sighed.
[you]: i think she’s lying about her brother
“The drama never ends,” you whispered, picking up the coffee to take a sip of it. It was equally sweet as it was caffeinated. “Oh my god,” you groaned after a swallow. Theo smirked over his shoulder. “I’ll text you the money,” you said, tapping away to open his messages, but he stopped you.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, flipping the other person's coffee over to shake it. “Someone left you an allowance. I think you’re good for the rest of the semester to be honest.” He chuckled as your brows rose. “You have another friend down at ATZ, and I assume he’s told you all about me.”
“Soul,” you mumbled, and Theo shot you a look that did little to warm your heart. “Yeah, he, uh, he told me.”
Popping a lid on the small sized cup in his hand, he slid it over the counter to the person next to you and muttered, “Three eighty seven,” and took the cash as they handed it over. “I don’t want to tell you to stay away from him,” Theo said to you, giving the person their change, “He’s really not that bad of a guy.” Shifting back over to your side of the counter, he leaned over on his elbows and looked up at you. “He’s just been through some shit.”
Rolling your eyes, you sipped your drink and tried not to laugh. “Seems to be the theme of the day.” Theo flattened his lips into some sort of smile. “What was her name?”
He closed his eyes and released a breath. “Soojin.” When his eyes met yours he laughed at your pout. “Don’t, it’s okay. She was a year below me in school, they had another year of high school together, I was here, it wasn’t a big deal.”
With another sip, you tried to hide behind your straw when you asked, “When did it happen?”
Theo smirked, assessed his surroundings and the little people that were inside his cafe. “She was a senior, he was a sophomore, I was a freshman trying to get into the prestigious ATZ. I was upset when it happened of course, she and I were still dating, but, when you really look at it, what kind of senior in high school takes an interest in a sophomore…”
“Oh my god,” you sighed, your eyes going wide. Theo grinned.
“Yeah, so I ended that quick,” he nodded once, standing up to clean up behind his counter. “And, I made sure Shota was okay, even though he was all smug about it. He was sixteen, he had every right to think he was hot shit for sleeping with a senior, but brotha’ was a victim.”
Soul’s dark eyes that never seemed to have a thought behind them came to mind, and you were gutted. “Tae, oh my god,” you said and he shrugged, wiping down his machines. “He told me that you hate him for it.”
Theo huffed a laugh, then hung his head for a few seconds. “If that’s what he wants to believe, I’ll take it. I don’t hate him,” he turned to give you a look. “He’s impressionable. Don’t take this the wrong way, but he’s not… all there,” he came closer to you. “His parents are… were… kinda messed up. You can’t tell him I said any of this,” Theo pointed at you, his eyes going stern.
“Promise,” you whispered, holding up a hand.
Theo tapped his fingers on the counter, watching them for a moment. “He was in therapy for a while.”
“Weren’t we all?” you attempted to lighten the air, smiling, and he laughed.
“I guess at some point,” he breathed. “I mean, I was after my parents got divorced, so… No, but, Shota, he’s been into a lot of things kids shouldn’t get into. This ability for him to… attract… that kind of attention, like with Soojin, I don’t know, it’s…” 
“His eyes,” you whispered, and Theo never looked at you faster. Sheepishly smiling, you said, “He’s been following me around for a little bit now, Tae. He showed up to ITZ one night.” Theo’s eyes shot open wide. You nodded. “Yeah, he’s persistent. I can kinda see why he’d so easily coerce someone… Not saying that’s what he did, or has done, but… Yanno?”
Theo thought about it, then asked, “So, you were catchin’ a crush?”
“No,” you said, hushed and rushed. “I have way too much happening to have a crush on a freshman. That makes me Soojin, just many years later.” He smiled, popping his brows. “And, now that I know he’s your little brother? That’d be weird. You and I were dates at Date Night last winter, my allegiance is to you, Taeyang.”
“I’ll never forget Wooyoung's face when we got picked,” he said, and you both shared a smile. “He was pissed.”
Names were chosen at random between the sorority and the fraternity, pairs made for the night. Date Night, one of the more exciting events thrown between the houses, kicked off with a bang though neither house raised enough to put toward this current year. Still, it was fun, and you were paired with Theo who drank your required liquor when you couldn’t stomach anymore. The two of you danced, you laughed, you hung out with Tori and Yeosang, her randomly chosen date, and you partied until the next morning. 
The kicker… You were strapped together at the wrist. You physically could not leave your date alone, and if someone else wanted to talk to you, you had to talk to their date, too.
Vernon was paired with Isla.
Yuna and Jongho were matched up.
Ryujin and San.
Chaeryeong was paired with a senior, as well as Mingi, like you and Theo.
Hongjoong had a senior from ITZ on his wrist.
Seonghwa and Lia both had freshman recruits.
Yunho got lucky enough to have Mina follow him around.
And, Wooyoung had Yeji.
You could say that was the start of the downfall, that Yeji and Wooyung were paired up together, so who knows if that night they hooked up as well, but you’ve stopped letting the thought bother you.
“It was fun,” you gave him a small smile.
“It was.” He returned it. “Are you guys gonna do that again? I know that one’s like tradition, right?”
“Tori has it on the schedule,” you said. “She’s stuck it sometime in October now, I think around Halloween? It might land on her birthday, I’m not so sure.”
“Well,” he stood up straight, having leaned over the counter again, and slapped his hands on the vinyl. “If you get paired with Shota, keep an eye on him.”
“Think I might do that regardless now, Tae,” you said, lifting your drink a bit to signal your exit. “Thanks again.”
Theo smirked and watched you leave the cafe. “Thank my brother.”
september 23rd ~ monday ~ 1:47 p.m.
[youknow everythin]: Rory there’s nothing there though, we can’t just assume, can we?
“It was here yesterday!”
Sitting forward, you laid your phone on the table beside your plate and groaned in frustration. Tori, cross legged with her waves over her shoulders, watched you with a raised brow.
“He deleted it, he had to have deleted it,” you whispered, refreshing Chan's profile three times before giving Tori a look of dismay. “When we were at the library, he posted it.”
“It’s been a day, it’s not going to be there anymore,” she said, picking up her fork. “I want to believe you, though.”
Eyes bugging out of your head, you attempted to refresh the page again. “You don’t believe me? How?” When you met her eyes again the taste in your mouth went sour. “Tori, I’m not lying to you, I swear to God, she is lying to us.”
“What person would lie about their brother like that?”
“That’s what I’m saying!” you shouted, and many heads turned your way. The two of you were at a small table toward the front of the sushi restaurant you stormed out of over a week ago. “Yunho thinks she’s got that invisible child thing. You know, where they pry for attention, or something.”
Tori, sipping her water, rolled her eyes. “Listen, I want to believe you, Ror, but now that you’ve got this thing with Yunho, it looks like you’re trying to make her the bad guy.”
Right, she was still miffed about the whole situation.
“I know what it looks like, okay?” You squeezed your eyes shut. “I’m not trying to… Win the boy, or whatever it is you think I’m doing. I have the boy. It’s not about that.”
Tori sat back in her chair and folded her arms. “You do, do you?” You nodded and she pursed her lips. “Then, what is it about? If she is lying like you say she is, what’s the point of calling her out for it? Just let it go, all shit comes out eventually.”
She was right.
Letting her go back to her sushi, you swiped back to your messages.
[youknow everythin]: She has been giving me specific updates, Rory
[youknow everythin]: I don’t think she’s lying
september 24th ~ tuesday ~ 2:44 p.m.
In four days you and your sisters would be walking through the doors of ATZ with your recruits. The two houses would come together for dinner, an introduction of sorts, a welcome to the life type of night. There have been freshmen in and out of the house since yesterday morning, touring the property, meeting the board, sucking up to Yeji who spoke to them all with the fakest smile you’ve ever seen.
Standing in the foyer now, your new dark blue ITZ t-shirt on and tucked into the waist of your jeans, two girls walking through the door in sundresses caught your eye. Wide eyed and excited, they gasped to themselves as they gaped up at the ceiling, the two of them arm in arm, linked together. It reminded you of you and Tori. They joined the few girls already walking the first floor, taking in the photos on the wall, reading every description, every story that lived on the white paint.
Ryujin, in the same t-shirt, stood beside you. Nudging her side, you gestured toward the girls.
“Those are the two I met at ATZ,” you whispered. Ryujin scanned the group, then found them and squinted. “They’re freshmen, and I think they come as a pair. Can’t buy them separately.”
“Like you and Tor,” Ryujin mumbled, and you smiled. “My gaydar is going off looking at the shorter one, I can probably make some magic happen.” Fluffing her shaggy hair, she adjusted her shirt to be a bit more frumpy, letting it hang over the waist of her wide legged jeans. She was gone in seconds, flashing a sideways smile to both girls who shook Ryujin’s hand with caution. Sure enough, the shorter one let her eyes slip up and down the seniors frame, but that could mean anything. Ryujin was walking sex appeal, if you swung that way you’d be sneaking out of her room every morning instead of an ATZ bedroom.
Taking a quiet moment for yourself, not being bothered by freshman looking to kiss ass, you pulled out your phone and checked your messages.
[youknow everythin]: How's it going over there? These freshman are ridiculous
Smiling, you worked your fingers on the keys.
[you]: at least you don’t have to listen to a trillion female empowerment stories
[you]: think every girl in this house right now has told the same story
[you]: i think i love it though, they all have something to prove, it’s admirable
[youknow everythin]: Does it remind you of your recruitment? 
[you]: totally, i was coming from a single father who lived paycheck to paycheck, i had to be obnoxious and prove myself. i’m seeing a lot of yeji’s and chaeryeong’s in this crowd. money money money
[youknow everythin]: Same over here, lots of guys flashing their bank accounts. And why is everyone a business major?
[you]: hey, don’t diss
[youknow everythin]: Not what I meant <3 <3 <3
[youknow everythin]: Have you talked to Seonghwa about anything yet? I assume not because he’s been nice to me all day
[you]: no, we should just wait a little bit. shit isn’t hitting the fan right now, we’ll be better off later. you haven’t said anything to mina yet?
[youknow everythin]: Not with this brother thing happening. Plus, she's VP so she’s got a lot on her plate at the moment.
Glancing up at her now, the Vice President, it was written on her t-shirt that she tucked into her denim skirt. Jeans were the dress code for this day, but apparently any denim was acceptable. She was smiling ear to ear while she spoke to a group of girls that gazed up at her with starry eyes. Admitting to yourself that it was impressive she was Vice President already, a sophomore, it didn’t make the feeling in your gut lessen.
Something was off.
It made you wonder if she heard your conversation with Tori the other day.
[you]: understood. keeping shit undercover
[youknow everythin]: It’s been hard to keep Mingi quiet. He’s so nosey. He wants to talk about us all the time.
[you]: us
[youknow everythin]: Us
[youknow everythin]: <3
“Great turn out today, don’t you think?”
Chills ran down your spine. Shoving your phone into your pocket, you turned over your shoulder and plastered a smile onto your face.
“So great,” you said. “I was just thinking about how there are so many like minded girls in here that have something to prove.”
Yeji pierced you with her fox-like gaze, attempting to look through you, into you. In all of the past weeks you’ve never had to be one on one with her, you’ve only had to deal with her in meetings. Her ombre hair curled perfectly laid over her shoulders, tucked behind one ear, showed off the diamonds she was wearing in her lobes. In her t-shirt and skinny jeans, she topped off the fit with strappy black heels and thin silver and gold bracelets on her wrists.
“Like minded?” Yeji asked, letting her eyes leave you for only a second to take in the group. “Explain.”
Swallowing, your mouth had gone dry, you nodded. “Their grades are fantastic, first of all, which you know to me is the most important of all.” Yeji narrowed her eyes. “But, the stories they’re telling us, what they’ve gone through to get here, some being told they’ll never make it to this school, that they’ll never get far… And, they’re here.” She bobbed her head, and smiled once you said, “It makes me think of Mina.”
“Does it?” she questioned, taking a peek at her second speaking with the girls.
“It does,” you whispered. “Everything with her family, yanno? She’s here, at Nasara, and she did that for herself. It’s incredible. I mean, even Isla, she wanted to do something for herself and she’s-”
“Leaving us in a day or two,” Yeji muttered, and your heart stopped. Taking in the shock on your face, she nodded, her stone cold expression never changing. “Don’t worry, she’s not being kicked out. Her brother has been in contact with us. He’s going to come get her, she needs his help. I’ll be sharing the news with Ryujin tonight, so if you could do me a solid and not tell anybody?”
Looking for the senior, the unsuspecting girl laughing it up with the two girls you met at the party, the walls seemed to tighten around you a smidge. She had no idea she was losing her roommate of the last three years. The two met on this day, Ryujin a sophomore, Isla a freshman. They clicked, they understood one another, they became best friends. Ryujin has done so much for Isla within the last year, and now she’d have to go through her most important year alone.
“She’s withdrawing?” you asked Yeji.
“She’s done,” the president nodded. “Withdrawn from classes, from the sorority, from Nasara entirely.”
“Where will she go?”
“With DK,” Yeji shrugged. “We don’t have the ability to help her here. She needs her family. That’s important, you know that, right? Family?” The look she gave you before she scampered away to greet some more freshmen wandering into the house was unreadable. 
february 14th ~ thursday ~ last semester ~ 11:21 p.m.
The ball hit the edge of the cup and bounced onto the floor, a choir of groans echoing throughout the crowded living room. Bumping into Tori, your pong partner, you grabbed onto her arm and voiced your own disappointment. Across the table, the two boys you were playing simply laughed.
“Leave us alone!” Tori shouted playfully. “She’s not good at this, okay, we know this!”
Blushing, you laughed aloud, too drunk to care that she had half roasted you while trying to defend you. “I suck!”
“You do, is that the best you’ve got?” Yunho grilled, wearing a devious smirk on his lips. Poking his tongue out the corner when you looked at him, he raised his brows and motioned toward himself with his fingers. 
Mingi elbowed him, smiling at his girl from across the table doused in beer and liquor. The room was dark, people in the crowd around you were using their flashlights on their phones to light up the table for you four. You were both down to the last three ups on either side.
“She doesn’t seem so bad, you guys are tied.” A voice that wrapped around your heart made you smile. Turning around you bump into Wooyoung who wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his chest. Bringing his lips to your ear he said, “Stand up straight, keep your elbows to yourself and throw without thinking too hard.”
Pulling away from him, he kept a hand on your back, he smiled at you and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. Following his instructions, standing up straight, you made eye contact with Yunho who now wore a scowl. Music flooded your ears, peoples shouts from everywhere in the house threatened to pull your liquor fueled brain elsewhere. Wooyoung took his hand around your waist and gave you a squeeze.
“Breathe,” he said, and you listened. “Look at the cup… Good.” You turned your chin to look at him and he laughed, using his other hand to maneuver your focus back to the table. “Look at the cup, baby, you can do this, prove them wrong, I know you can.”
“Don’t think someone’s allowed to touch the player while they throw,” Yunho called out, and Mingi laughed. Tori shut him up with a glare. 
Wooyoung curled his lip. “Shut up.” Moving behind you, putting both hands on your waist, he cradled his chin into your neck. “Throw it. Show them.” His lips ghosted your skin and you longed to drop the ball and spin around in his arms, but the way Yunho was glaring at you made you want to throw the ball at his head instead of the red cups waiting for you.
“Any day now,” Yunho complained, tipping his chin backward.
“Ro, shut this guy up,” Wooyoung said loud enough for him to hear. Smiling, feeling his hands press into your waist, you pulled your hand back and released the ball. It went into a cup and swirled around in circles, and the three of you on your end of the table cheered for half a second.
Yunho dipped his fingers inside and flicked it out, both him and Mingi laughing together. The crowd was impartial, no one knew who to be happy for.
“Are you kidding me?” Wooyoung spat, pulling you away from the table, planting his hands on the edge. Yunho raised a brow, a shiteating smirk on his lips.
“That’s the game,” he said.
“You’re a piece of shit, just let her have it,” Wooyoung said, throwing a hand toward the cups left in front of the boy many inches taller than him. “It’s one cup.”
Yunho glanced down, then scoffed. “Yeah, it’s one cup,” he parroted, and Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “She’ll get it again, though she’s missed the last ten shots.”
Tori circled the table and ended up somewhere around Mingi, her boyfriend craning his neck down to press kisses to her cheek. Waiting behind Wooyoung, not knowing what the hell was going to happen, you turned around and found San making his way through the crowd. Raising your hands in the air, you shouted for him.
“Sannie!”
His face lit up. “Ror!” Elbowing past bodies, he found your side and groaned. “Oh no,” he slung himself over your back when you turned around to face the table. “What happened? Why’s he mad?”
Pointing at Yunho, your best friend giving you two ounces of attention, scrunching his nose at San, you said, “He was talkin’ shit, I threw the ball like Wooyoung said, I made it in, but Yo knocked it out.”
San shook his head. “No, you’re kidding, shit move, Yunho!” He looked back at you and San at the sound of his name. “You always play girls like that?” 
Wooyoung smiled at San and held up a hand. “Hang on.” Pointing at Yunho, he said, “Own up to it. Or, you give me the balls, and if I make it in the other two cups, the girls win and you both forfeit for the night. I’m tired of seeing you both standing over here.”
Yunho and Mingi shared a look. From beneath his arm Tori said, “You don’t have to be a jerk, Wooyoung.”
Giving your roommate a look, he quirked a brow. “You wanna take their side over your own sisters? Damn, Tori, that says a lot about you doesn’t it?” San snickered behind you, his hands tangling over your chest. Wooyoung turned back to Yunho. “Balls,” he wiggled his fingers, and the boy obeyed, rolling them across the table. Clutching them both, Wooyoung rolled them in his hands and smirked. “I make it in those two, the ones she didn’t touch, they win. You’re done.”
Yunho crossed his arms and tilted his head back, the smug look in his face doing something to you. “Do it,” he scoffed. “If you don’t make it you have to leave for the rest of the night, how about that?”
Wooyoung threw both balls, one right after the other. They landed in both cups, the ones you didn’t touch, with a splash. The room lost their minds. Yunho and Mingi dropped their arms in shock.
Wrapping an arm around you, acquiring you from San, Wooyoung flashed them a sweet smile. “I was planning on leaving anyway.” And he whisked you out of the living room, leaving the boys dumbfounded behind you.
Barreling through people, both of you laughing, you babbling on about how crazy of a shot that was, you were seconds away from telling him he got lucky when he pressed you against the wall in the hallway, just short of the stairs. 
Almost nose to nose, he placed a hand on the wallpaper and the other to your cheek, dragging his thumb over your skin. He wore a smile, his lips closed hiding his perfect teeth. His hair hung over his forehead, the waves having been pushed side to side all night.
“Did you like the way he was talking to you?” he asked, letting his fingers dance into your hair, pushing it gently off your shoulders that were bare in Tori’s strapless top you borrowed.
Blinking, getting lost in the depths of almond eyes, you took a breath. “Who, Yunho?” Wooyoung nodded, the smallest gesture. “Not really, but it’s Yunho, he never really means what he says. He could talk all the shit in the world and then seconds later his mood changed.”
“It wasn’t cool, Ro,” he said, his hand taking to your shoulder, not dropping any further. “I didn’t like it.” His lips formed a pout. “He was talking about my girl.” Your cheeks warmed, and he smiled, flashing you his perfect teeth. His beauty was indescribable, you couldn’t put words to it. So unique, so undeniably gorgeous. He was a wanted man, and he was here in your arms.
“Your girl,” you whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips. “Since when am I your girl?”
Laughing to himself, he brought both of his hands over your neck, his hands taking to your chin, tilting you upward. His grip was gentle, everything about how he dealt with you was gentle. “I want you to be my girl,” he whispered. “But you get hung up on jackasses, just pay attention to me, Ro, these other guys don’t matter.”
Blinking a few times, you muttered, “Wooyo, I’m drunk.” Exhaling heavily, you wiggled in his grip and he let you go. “I pay attention to you, what’re you talking about?”
Having taken a step backward, his hands were to himself. “You do,” he said. “I just mean… Nevermind.”
This time you came closer to him, sliding your arms around his neck, pulling him in. He walked backward so he could lean against the wall. Taking his arms around your back, he gazed down at you, studying you, taking in every little piece of you.
“We can talk when you’re not drunk,” he whispered, dipping his chin down to brush his nose against your own. Whispering your agreement, he smiled, then tilted his chin and pressed his lips to yours. In mere seconds your hands were in his hair, holding onto him like he’d soon run away. You yearned to melt into him, to stay here forever with his lips on yours, taking your time as if it was the first time you’ve found yourself here.
He treated each kiss like it was fragile, like if he moved too fast the moment would end. Soft lips pulling you under, his tongue meeting yours to deepen it further. There was no rush, no hurriedness about it. By now one would figure you’d be pulled upstairs and stripped to nothing, but, not with Wooyoung. Not now.
Neither of you crossed that line. Neither of you wanted to, not yet. Though many, many make outs, like this one, have ended with sweaty skin and the need to change your pants, both of you, the drive to go further always pulled you both back. Wooyoung had always been quicker to stop it, to stop you if your hand fell to the button of his pants, or if you seemed to fall into some sort of conditioned way of moving about him. 
At first it was strange, him wanting to take his time, but for a couple months now you’ve both been reeling in the build up, in the excitement of what’s to come, the two of you unspokenly going about this thing like it were your first time ever.
“Aurora,” Wooyoung whispered, touching his forehead to yours. Looking up at him through your lashes you smiled. “So beautiful,” he kept his voice low, just for you. “Promise me,” he said, and you lowered your brows. “Promise me you’ll stay away from them.”
“Away from who?”
“Don’t let them pull you into their games,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s how this shit works, this life. They won’t stop until they win.” His hands slipped into your hair, pushing it away. Pausing, he studied you once more and kissed you. “They’ll snuff out anything standing in their way.”
september 25th ~ wednesday ~ 7:15 p.m.
[you]: hey, hope its okay tae gave me your number… you didnt have to do this, but thank you. i’ll blame you for the caffeine addiction next semester
[soul]: come to atz to thank me in person
[you]: too much to do, sorry friend. i’ll see you on saturday, right?? you used your brain instead of your wallet, yeah?
[soul]: yeah…… something like that.
[you]: good. keep it up.
[you]: do me a solid?
[soul]: anything for you
[you]: tell yunho to answer his phone if you can find him, he’s supposed to meet me somewhere and i think he’s drowning in books right now
[you]: hope those boys arent giving you too much of a hard time
[soul]: not at all :)
He was fifteen minutes late. That’s extremely unlike him. Yunho was a cluster fuck, but he was a punctual cluster fuck. 
The two of you were finally meeting at Blend. You had secured a booth in the farthest corner, not that the place was buzzing with life anyway. Away from the windows, away from the door. You weren’t looking to create any problems. All of your board members were busy situating girls to rooms anyways, all of the details needing to be mapped out by Friday morning when all of the new recruits would arrive.
Tori let you in on the secret, there were maybe ten at max that made it through all the way. There were only a couple set aside for now, needing a couple more details set in stone before they could move forward. 
Not needed around the house, actually trying to stay out of everybody's way, you were able to corral Yunho to agree to come out this evening. Unfortunately it looks like homework may win again, however. You wanted to unpack this month with him, unpack what had happened on the roof, discuss Mina when you both weren’t delirious and half asleep.
Sending him the second ‘where are you’ text, you locked your phone and tossed it to the table as the door to Blend swung open. Heart hoping it was Yunho waltzing inside with a hilarious apology, you’re surprised to see Seonghwa, in all black of course. He had his hair pulled back in a tie, hanging low on his neck. It took him three seconds to find you, his eyes scanning the room as if he smelled you the second he walked in. 
“Ror,” he said, his voice and his smile giving you some sort of comfort.
“Hey,” you said quietly, toying with the straw in your cup. Seonghwa gave the smallest wave, if you could call it that, to Theo, then he changed his course and came over to you, leaving the barista dumbfounded as his eyes followed him over to you. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know,” Seonghwa half laughed, sliding into the booth across from you, leaving his legs dangling out the side, his feet touching the floor. He slid his hand across the table and brushed his fingers over yours. “I’ve been feeling a little off, think I wanted something warm to drink.”
Raising a finger, letting him slip one beneath yours, you tilted your head. “Feeling sick?”
He shifted in his seat, swinging his legs underneath the table, his knees bumping into yours. His height was unreal. “No, not sick,” he muttered. “Just… off.”
Hooking your finger onto his, you pouted. “Is there anything I can do to help?” Nodding toward the counter where Theo worked behind it without a sound, Seonghwa glanced over there. “Get a drink,” you smiled. “It’s on me.”
Blinking once, he moved his eyes to you, then he released a laugh. “Now that I can’t do.”
“Why not?” you asked, watching him lace his fingers within yours.
“Because,” he whispered, his lashes fluttering as he spoke.
Leaning over the table, you lowered your voice and flipped your brows. “You helped me, now let me help you.”
Seonghwa mainted face. “Did I?” His voice was a whisper. Eyes sharp, the sudden vulnerability swallowed you. A lot has happened since you slept with him. 
At least it felt like a lot.
“I mean, yeah,” you said with a small shrug. Clenching his jaw he glanced at your hands.
“Then you won’t be upset if I tell you he went to see Mina tonight?”
You yanked your hand back, tucking it into your lap with the other. Nausea filled your gut, you could get sick in front of him right here.
“She’s been having a hard time, I've heard, they talk everyday.”
Gulping away the lump in your throat you dropped your eyes to the table and sucked in a shaky breath.
He told you he’d be here.
He promised you that you would talk, about everything.
He hasn’t said that word since he snuck onto your roof.
“Ror?” Seonghwa tapped one of his fingers on the table, pulling you from your thoughts that didn’t circle as much as you thought they would. It was simple. “You okay?”
Rolling your shoulders back, sitting up straight, you sighed and smiled at him. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Seonghwa tried to smile, but his lips could only crinkle as the corners lifted.
“You sure?” he whispered.
The space between your lungs tightened. “No,” you breathed, lifting your hand back onto the table, touching your finger tip to his. Seonghwa looked down at them for half a second. “I thought…”
He bit the bullet and folded his hand within yours again. “Tell me.”
The rub of his thumb over the back of your hand soothed the hurt. “Just thought I really had him this time.”
His brows lowered ever so slightly. “What do you mean?”
Tightening your grip on his hand, his thumb stopped moving. “Hwa, you can’t get mad,” you whispered, poking out your bottom lip a bit, praying your shining eyes would persuade him enough.
“Why would I be mad?” he questioned, his voice going deep.
“Because,” you said, and he narrowed his eyes. “Tori told me you do this… thing. Well, really, Mingi told her.” Seonghwa blew air out his lips and let his eyes close for a second. “I’m serious. You gave me a crazy ass hickey, Hwa. Apparently that means I belong to you.” Ignoring how his eyes darkened, you smiled when he did.
“A man can’t just do it ‘cause he likes it?” he snickered, shaking his head. Shrugging your shoulders, his thumb resumed its dance over your skin. “Ror, you don’t belong to me. Did I love our night together, fuck yes, you know how to ride a dick.”
“Hwa!” you giggled, glancing around the cafe, taking a peek at Theo making a drink behind the counter for a customer not present. He didn’t hear him.
“You're cute when your cheeks go all pink,” he mumbled, bringing your attention back to him. “When did you guys happen? At the next one?”
“Jesus, Seonghwa, I’m not an animal.”
“I am,” he smirked, getting the exact reaction out of you he was hoping.
Calming your smile, you squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head vigorously. “Stop,” you laughed, “I think it was like a week after, or something. You picked me up and brought me to the party where it all… went to shit, I guess.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“No, it’s not your fault, come on.” Wiggling your hand in his you forced his eyes to yours and you smiled what you could. “I should’ve listened to you.”
Seonghwa took a breath and adjusted himself in his seat. “I mean,” he smirked, “Technicaly you did, I said fuck him.”
Laughing with him, you groaned. “Bad idea. Bad idea.”
“It was?” he asked, leaning forward. “I thought you really liked him.”
“Unfortunately I think I do,” you said. “But, at the same time, and I said this to Tori… I don’t know what that feels like.” Seonghwa zoned in his focus and slowly nodded. “I’m… attracted and all that, but I don’t know what it feels like to… be in love with somebody.”
“Love, sheesh,” he muttered. “Who uses that word anymore?”
“Yunho,” you whispered, giving him a sheepish look, one he raised his brows at. “Yeah,” you sighed. “Don’t spill that to anybody. I trust you.”
Seonghwa smiled. “I know you do, that’s why you let me-“
“Stop,” you cut him off with a wide smile, your tone singing a song. Laying your other hand on top of his, you took a deep breath. “We’re not gonna talk about that, okay?”
“Okay,” he said with a bow of his head.
The door to Blend opened, not nearly as confident as when Seonghwa came in. Turning a bit to peek at who it was, your nerves shook themselves awake.
He didn’t see you until he was at the counter, grabbing onto the small white cup that Theo slid over to him.
“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa said loud enough to get the boy to turn. He wore a leather jacket, one hand shoved inside a pocket, and dark blue denim jeans. The shirt on the inside was black.
Kicking your foot into his shin, you shot Seonghwa a glare. Wooyoung turned, confused as hell, but once he processed it was the two of you, you swore he rolled his eyes.
“Since when did you come here?” Seonghwa asked, sharing an equally confused look with his brother.
Wooyoung sipped his drink and lifted the cup in answer. “I’m here every Wednesday night. Last semester I was here every Tuesday night.”
“And the semester before that?” you questioned, slightly teasing him. He moved his eyes over to you and you felt the earth shake beneath you. Both of you were sober, facing one another for the first time since the end of last year.
“I was here every Monday night.” His gaze hardened.
“Why?” Seonghwa twisted his brows, looking the boy up and down. Wooyoung took two steps closer to the table.
“‘Cause,” he started, lowering his chin, balancing his cup in his hand against his bottom lip.
“Chai tea,” you mumbled, and both Seonghwa and Wooyoung looked at you. The boy across from you raised an eyebrow. “And Blend has the honey your mom uses at home.” Glancing at Wooyoung, he watched you. Subtle shock lived in his face, but he wouldn’t show it.
“You remember that?” he asked quietly.
Nodding with a shrug, you said, “Yeah, you told me about it when she called you to yell at you about your psych grade last year.” Seonghwa, in awe, released your hand. Wooyoung took notice.
“Why these specific days though?” Seonghwa shook his head.
You spoke before either of them could. “It means his hardest classes are today…”
It took you a couple seconds to work up the courage to look at Wooyoung again, but you did, and you found him thinking, his brows pointed and his eyes somewhat soft. Parting his lips as if to speak, he bit down on his bottom one instead and turned to walk out the door, telling Theo, “Thanks, Tae, I sent the money.” 
Seonghwa’s eyes were on you, hot. The moment the door was closed and Wooyoung was gone, he started to laugh.
“Don’t start,” you whispered, looking up at him.
“How can I not?” He shook his hair and sat backward. “That was entirely too adorable, Ror. Remembering his order? Remembering why he came here? You’re a real lover girl, aren’t you?”
Averting your eyes to the table, you pushed your drink aside, feeling too sick to drink anymore. “I just remember,” you shrugged. “It’s important to me. Remembering. Especially things like that.” You looked at him. “If you care about somebody, you tend to remember those things.”
At the word care he scrunched his nose.
Your phone buzzed on the table, both of you glancing at the screen that lit up with Tori’s name. Beneath her message was one from Yunho. Picking it up, you opened his first.
[youknow everythin]: Oh my god, I forgot. Rory. I’m so sorry, holy shit.
You flickered your eyes up at Seonghwa momentarily.
“What happened?” he asked.
He went to see Mina tonight.
“Nothing,” you whispered, focusing back on your screen.
[honey sweetie light of my life (no she didn’t make this her own name in your phone)]: get to the house NOW
[honey sweetie light of my life (no she didn’t make this her own name in your phone)]: ryujin losing her shit hurry hurry i cant get her to stop yelling at yeji
[honey sweetie light of my life (no she didn’t make this her own name in your phone)]: isla is gone, no one knows when she left, her stuff is gone
“Seonghwa, I gotta go,” you mumbled, barely giving him another look, leaving him at the table. Not a word was spoken elsewise. He let you go.
It took ten minutes to walk back to ITZ. Placing a hand over your racing heart, you barreled up the stairs and paused. Through the door, through the walls, Ryujins voice echoed into the outside. It sounded like things were being thrown, there were voices on voices and bangs on bangs.
Pushing the door open you’re greeted by a shoe falling to the floor in front of you from the second floor. Shutting the door with your back, you snapped your neck up and found the back of Yeji, standing against the railing with her arms folded over her chest. The shouting was coming from up there, Ryujin.
“YOU NEVER SAID SHIT YEJI! She’s GONE, where the FUCK did she GO!?”
Bending to pick her shoe up, finding many more littered about the floor, a hand grabbed your wrist and stood you up. Tori, eyes wide and brows high, shook her head and gestured toward the upstairs. “Don’t bother, she launches them back down. Yeji’s dodged almost every sneaker she owns, if we bring them back we’re only supplying her ammo.” She pulled you toward the stairs, out of the way of unidentified flying objects.
“What the hell is happening?” you asked, keeping your voice low. Ryujin still screamed, every profanity possible. Turning to Tori, she cringed. She had been crying, her eyes were glassy. Glancing upstairs, the other girls were either in their doorways or on the other side of the staircase, out of the way of Ryujin’s rage.
“Isla’s gone,” Tori whispered, the tears welling up in her eyes. “All of her things are gone, all of her belongings, her furniture, it’s gone. There isn’t a trace of her in that room. Ryujin came home from class and lost her shit.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” you muttered. “No one’s tried to stop her?”
Tori gave you a look. “That’s her best friend, Ror. If this happened to you, and I suddenly disappeared, wouldn’t you freak the fuck out?”
Your heart sank. “Suddenly? What do you mean suddenly?”
She shrugged, a few tears falling down her cheeks. “No one knew, she didn’t tell anybody.”
“Who?” you whispered. Tori gave you another look, her brows meeting in the middle of her forehead. 
“Isla,” she sighed. “She didn’t say anything, she just… left. Quietly, too, no one knows how she did it.”
Gritting your teeth you took a breath and turned your attention to the senior on the second floor telling Yeji exactly what she thinks about her, and the president was unmoving. Still, not frozen, but still, Yeji watched her. Watched her scream, watched her sob, watched her throw whatever she could at her, and she didn’t say a word.
Now you could be sick. Now you could fall to the floor, your knees weak. Grabbing onto Tori, your best friend wrapped a hand around your back, laying her chin on top of your head, sniffling. 
Yeji knew how she did it. Yeji knew how she left. She knew when she left.
And so did you.
september 28th ~ saturday ~ 6:00 p.m.
Twenty five boys stood on the front steps of the ATZ house. Most of them wore smiles, and neatly buttoned shirts and pants, their hair styled to perfection, standing tall as you and your sisters approached the porch. Whispers moved through their group, the boys excited, and hungry. They had outdone you. ITZ was only bringing ten more girls.
Nineteen of you. There would’ve been more, but those girls you met at the party, and some others, didn’t make it past the cut. Turned down, Yeji signed five letters telling them they weren’t eligible for advancement into the sorority. You weren’t even able to protest without exposing to Yeji what you’d done, having attended the party, and met them in the kitchen when you were plastered. As much as you’d love to have those girls here with you, have them add a little more muscle to your sisterhood, this past month has been too much. You couldn’t risk anything at this point.
Tori, beside you in a little white dress, she slid her arm beneath one of yours and smiled. Her boyfriend was on the porch, standing in front with the original nine of ATZ. He’d already spotted her, the way he teetered back and forth on his feet shifting his weight while he waited patiently for her to find him entirely too adorable. They hadn’t seen one another in a few days, none of you have been here for a few days, both houses have been too busy preparing for this moment, and thankfully so.
Yunho stood next to Mingi, his shirt buttoned in totality, unlike his best friend who left the to one undone. The corners of his lips were turned up. A smile of sorts, but he seemed nervous. His eyes gave him away. The text he sent you Wednesday night, before rushing home to calm Ryujin- which you did- you never answered. He’s sent you a message everyday since, only two, you didn’t get one today, but it didn’t matter.
He forgot to meet you, or he was lying like his stupid girlfriend and he went out with her instead, comforting her and her allegedly real situation. For days she’s moped around the house, taking longer to talk on the phone, hanging around Yeji more than she’s ever had. She’s even taken Tori from you on a few occasions, and your roommate would come back in twenty minutes with some sort of update, telling you that Mina wasn’t feeling any better about the situation.
If she was telling the truth, she had every right to be upset. You understood that more than anybody. You’d go days without hearing from your dad sometimes, it was scary, even if you knew they were coming back. Some days it felt like they never were. Since he’s been back from his work trip in Contramano you’ve heard from him twice. A text when he returned, and then the shortest video call so he could see your smiling face.
Some days you wished you could tell him everything, that he’d be the kind of dad who would listen, and understand. Maybe he’d even give you some advice, tell you how to handle the shitshow you were swept inside of, but no. He’s taught you how to wear false emotion on your face and gave you the skill of juggling multiple situationships at once. Like you, your father didn’t know what love was. You like to think he gave you the best he could, that whenever he told you he loved you, that you were his everything, that he was telling the truth.
Maybe that was enough. The two of you trying your best to be the best people you could be for one another, knowing that at the end of the day it was just you and him. He didn’t want anything to happen to you, and though you longed for him to be detained maybe just one more time so he’d change his life, you didn’t want anything to happen to him either. He did try his hardest to be the best dad, and you could admit you gave him too much shit, but he couldn’t blame you for that. Your father has been through hell and back, a hell that he’s somewhat protected you from, a hell that he’s been learning from. Almost.
Old habits die hard.
Hongjoong stepped down from the porch with his head held high, extending a hand toward Yeji who stood at the front of your group. Smiling, his confidence exuding him, he took her hand and shook it, bowing his head as he did. Yeji returned his smile, matching his energy, and smiled. They exchanged a few words between themselves, the presidents moving with poise and juxtaposition. Hongjoong in a dark suit, his jacket buttoned with no shirt beneath it, and Yeji in a baby blue dress, her hair curled and her skin covered properly. Two halves of a whole, their knowing eyes reading one another with a careful tenacity. No one could deny their power, their own energy almost too much for themselves.
Up on the porch on the other side of the stairs stood Seonghwa, a being most of the girls behind you whispered about. A being that could have any girl in this group. All he’d have to do is point to one, and he’d have them crawling up the stairs. But, his eyes were on you, gentle and soft. When you met them he smiled. Trying to return it, your eyes fell to Vernon standing in front of him.
Brows low, his eyes were sharp, on alert, scanning your group from left to right, and back again. He tilted slightly side to side to get a glimpse of some of the girls hiding behind others. He was looking for something. Someone. When he met your eyes he questioned you with a raise of his brows, the action so small it’d go unnoticed by someone out of the know. Shaking your head, pulling your lips into a frown, you could feel the hurt that cracked his usual stoic expression in half.
Quickly composing himself, he glanced away, focusing on Hongjoong who turned back to his house, but then he narrowed his glare and shot it toward Yeji. Beside him, Wooyoung put a hand on his arm and whispered something to him. The boys spoke back and forth for a second while Hongjoong introduced himself to your sisters and new recruits, Wooyoung taking a peek at you every now and again while Vernon whispered to him.
Yeji introduced herself to the boys on the porch, the majority of the newbies visibly drooling over her. Some took their time with each face, marking their prey before it even stepped through their door. Soul was up there, leaning over the railing to the left of Seonghwa, his two freshman friends with him. The cocky one, Jongseob with his eyes set on Tori, and the shy one, Intak, who wore a smirk, eyes set on a girl somewhere behind you. 
Soul had his eyes on you. Smiling at him, his smirk deepend and he stood up straight, ripping his eyes from you to look at your president.
Both houses recited their mission statements for one another, whipping you into shape quickly, pulling your attention off the boys, and then, you were in the house. 
Dinner for the most part went smooth, to plan, as it should have. The boys let you and your sisters into the house first, their greetings respectful and kind, likely the doing of Hongjoong and Seonghwa. It was how they all moved through dinner as well, respectful and kind, treating the nineteen of you like important guests in their home, serving you, proving themselves. Soul had been the one to bring you a drink, something without alcohol in it.
That was for later.
This was all an act.
The recruits with you expressed their shock, their surprise that the frat house wasn’t a mess, not dirty in the slightest, and you wanted to let them in on a secret, but figured they’d see it soon enough. As soon as the clock struck ten the house flipped over.
For the majority of dinner Yunho kept to himself, hanging around Yeosang who gave you nothing more than a smile, though he hugged Tori. The first of many questionable things to happen within the hours before the party started.
Yunho didn’t say hello, he was actively trying to keep his eyes off of you. Finding something else to occupy him if the two of you got too close, usually another boy or a plate to clean up or a drink to fill.
Seonghwa checked in with you, noticing how Yunho avoided any interaction with you. In front of a group of his freshmen following him around, Soul included, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled. Soul made sure to touch your shoulder, giving you a shake before they walked away.
Vernon hovered in a corner focused on his phone for most of the dinner, his nails finding themselves between his teeth as he tried to listen to people speak, the higher ups giving tours and sharing makeshift speeches with anyone who’d listen. He couldn’t even entertain the ATZ freshmen when they’d ask him about baseball, he was totally disconnected, and he hadn’t been able to get you alone to ask you what had happened, at least not yet.
Tori and Mingi hung onto one another with class, answering the freshmen’s questions of ‘Are you together?’ with smiles and happy nods. Mina found herself beside them often, Mingi now involved in the comfort Mina project.
Wooyoung hung around the outskirts of the dinner, like he would at any of his parties this semester it seemed. A complete change from how he’d act in the past, outgoing, loud, the center of attention. It didn’t click with you until you heard your friends speak about not being able to find him when they’d come here, that he’d hide. Hide, or just know how to not be seen. Even on social media he’s gone quiet, only the occasional post going up to his story, nothing big, not since that first party when he got you in trouble.
Hongjoong walked around with Jongho, the two of them seemingly becoming partners in crime this semester more so than Hongjoong and Seonghwa. The pair were almost comical, the muscle behind the beauty, like a bodyguard, stopping anybody if they got too close to his president. The sophomore did find himself with Yuna at some point, her chocolate brown curls melting his hardened exterior in seconds. Sharing a job, Yuna would often argue, since last year, that they spoke mainly about work, but the eyes never lie. There was something there.
San, well, he was San. A polite dinner party would not stop him from waltzing around the house without a care, taking after his president, wearing no shirt beneath his suit jacket that he unbuttoned as the night drew on and on. Shamelessly flirting with anybody who’d entertain him, not even knowing he was flirting, he accidentally collected a following, boys and girls alike who some would fall victim to later on.
Somehow you collected your own following. A few of the ITZ recruits found it comfortable at your side, asking you questions about the house, about the boys whenever one would pass by you and shoot you a wink. Ryujin accompanied you, lingering close by with a scowl on her face, and rightfully so. She didn’t want to come tonight, but contractually she had too. Avoiding Vernon for now, she unspokenly clung to you.
When the clock did strike ten, however, everybody changed. The entire house flipped over, and it happened fast.
Red cups littered the place within the hour of the party starting. The lights were shut off, the music had been turned up to a volume one had to shout over, and boys jackets and girls sweaters were draped over any furniture in the vicinity. Pong tables were going in the back of the living room, shouts coming from there, Mingi and Tori’s included. Both you and Ryujin didn’t know what to do, sipping your first drinks of the night, gathering some of the girl's belongings that had been strewn about, you weren’t sure whether to chaperone or drink away your sorrows.
As the first hour progressed, Ryujin decided on the latter. Flopping onto a couch amongst the brothers and sisters chattering away, dancing around the living room, she requested a full cup from an ATZ recruit and he obliged. At least you’d know where to find her, but now this meant you were on your own.
september 28th ~ saturday ~ 11:23 p.m.
“How is Yeji okay with any of this?” Vernon said, walking with you toward the living room, dodging drunk recruits wandering to the kitchen latched to one another's arms. Glancing over your shoulder at the boy and the girl laughing, you sighed.
“It’s tradition,” you suggested, giving him a shrug. “But, it’s funny though, right? She can ban us, but then allow everybody to run free tonight. It’s a tease to these new girls, they’re gonna be so disappointed.”
Taking up a spot on the vacant stairs the two of you sat side by side, Vernon sipping from his cup, his first and only of the night. You were on your second, taking your time, not wanting to be delirious for the whirlwind that already was this night.
“You know,” Vernon started, looking over into the archway of the living room. 
San was on the back of the couch, shirtless, with his tongue down an ITZ recruits throat. You believed she was a sophomore so you didn’t feel the need to run in there and put an end to the way her hands ran over his muscled chest without a care. Even if she was, you weren’t Yeji. The fun would commence, but you’d still keep a watchful eye over your sisters, old and new.
Vernon shook his head. “I don’t even remember what I was gonna say,” he turned to you, “I thought this night was gonna go one way, but it’s gone the exact opposite since you guys got here.” 
Twisting your cup around in your hands, you took a breath. “I know,” you said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” he mumbled, knocking back what was left in his cup. “I just don’t know why she wouldn’t tell me she was leaving.”
Thinking about that night and Ryujins freak out, you circle back to the day before, when Yeji told you that Isla was withdrawing from Nasara and leaving with her brother. It was supposed to make sense, it should make sense, but for some reason, like the rest of the vague bullshit that occurred around here, it didn’t.
“She didn’t tell you anything at all?” you asked, and he shook his head, his brown curls dancing on his forehead.
“Nothing,” he nearly whispered. “I mean, I get it, she doesn’t owe me anything, we only hooked up once and she leaned on me for help, even though I genuinely wanted to help her…”
Letting him vent, you smiled once it was over. “She was still your friend, Vernon. That stuff hurts, and her not telling you that she was leaving should hurt.” He bobbed his head, letting it hang. “When did you guys… If you don’t mind me asking? I didn’t know you guys were like that.”
“Me either,” he admitted with a huff. “She, uh, showed up at my practice Monday night, and you know my coach keeps me late because of the scouting and wants to make sure I’m ready before I go up to triple A. She stayed and watched me hit, watched me work first base, bullying me the entire time- though she has no right ‘cause her brother is a pitcher and I am not, but whatever,” you both laughed, “It was really late, she helped me get my stuff together, followed me into the locker room which she’s done before, but… Something about this time she just… She got me.”
“I’m going to ask you something, please don’t take it the wrong way, okay?” you said, and he nodded. “Was she sober?”
“Completely,” he spoke fast. “Trust me, Ror. Wouldn’t have let her undress me if she wasn’t.”
“You two were really out there living every high schoolers fantasy,” you said with a giggle. “Sex in the locker rooms after baseball practice.”
He shared in your laugh for only a second. “Yeah, and now she’s gone.”
“You can always track her down,” you offered, bumping him with your elbow. “Instagram? Text? She’s with her brother, work your baseball magic and get her.”
He looked at you, his eyebrows lowering over his big brown eyes. “She’s with her brother?” A tiny spark of nerves ignited in your chest. “How do you know that, you’ve heard from her?”
“No, she hasn’t talked to any of us.”
His tone was slowly turning sharp. “Then how do you know she’s with her brother?”
“Yeji,” you whispered, unable to lie to his pretty face. “No, Vernon, wait!”
Leaping from the stairs, Vernon dropped his cup to the ground and barreled into the living room, ignoring your shouts for him to come back. Following him, jumping onto your feet, a hand landed on your shoulder before you could cross under the archway.
“Let me go,” you spat, turning around in haste. “Oh,” you sighed, and the spark of nerves turned into a flame. “What do you want?”
Yunho parted his lips as you tugged your shoulder from his grip. “Can I talk to you?”
“I don’t think so,” you said, and he scrunched up his face. “Go talk to Mina.” Spinning around to follow after Vernon, Yunho yanked you back again. “Let me go, Yo!” Facing him, he tried to put both hands on your shoulders but you swatted him away.
“Rory, can I just-”
“She said to let her go.”
Shooting a glare over your shoulder, Yunho dropped his hands to his sides and said, “You think you really have room to speak here?” Backing up from between them, you glanced at Wooyoung who glanced at you at the same time before piercing Yunho with his glare.
“A girl just told you to take your hands off of her twice, Yunho,” he said. “You think Hongjoong would be pleased to hear that?”
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you Wooyoung, you really think he’ll listen to you?”
Wooyoung smiled. “Regardless of what my supposed reputation says about me, what all these people will say about me, never once have I ever been involved in a situation like the one you’re presuming I’ve been.” Yunho clenched his jaw. He caught a glimpse of you, but you were locked in on the boy speaking. “Maybe I’ve done some shitty things, but I know basic respect and consent.”
“Wooyoung, it was only this once,” you muttered, and he looked at you, his eyes swallowing you whole.
“It doesn’t matter, Ro,” he said, his tone calm as he spoke to you. “This is how it starts.” Gesturing behind him with his head, telling you to move along, you listened, and heard Yunho protest as you wandered off into the living room.
“Aurora! Aurora!” San shouted at you from the couch he was on, the sophomore in his lap now, waving for you to join them. There were bodies around them, everyone talking over everyone, taking shots they’d pour with any of the multiple bottles of liquor on the table in the center of the furniture, offering you one as you stepped over their bare legs and sweaty bodies.
“How the fuck did this turn into this so fast?” you breathed, taking the cup from an ATZ recruit, flopping onto the sofa beside San who slung an arm around you. Pressing the cup to your lips you gulped down the, you think, vodka, with a cringe.
“You’re not drunk enough,” San said, grabbing the sophomore by the waist, lifting her with him as he reached for the bottle on the table. She yelped and giggled, grabbing onto him in some way to stay on his front. In the extremely dim light you could make out her pretty face and the several purple marks on her neck from San already. “Why are you not drunk enough? There’s no rules tonight, Ror. Look at what’s happening.”
“I’ve seen what’s happening, Sannie, half of our recruits are being corrupted by yours,” you smirked and he laughed, pouring straight vodka into the cup you held out for him. “You’ve taught them well.”
“I haven’t taught them a thing,” he said, giving you a look. “They came that way. It’s not our fault every single one of you is fuckable.” Twisting the cap on the bottle he tossed it to the other side of the couch and settled his hands on his girl's hips, digging his fingers into her curves. “You know, your girls aren’t totally innocent, they know what they’re doing. They want it too.”
Sipping the liquor, you licked your lips and leaned into him, your noses centimeters apart. His breath hitched in his throat, his eyes darting down to watch your tongue. “It’s not our fault every single one of you is fuckable.” With parted lips, he sighed.
“Wanna join us?” he whispered, poking his tongue out to wet his lips. Honestly weighing the possibilities, the liquor doing nothing to keep you logical, it was possible. “Holy fuck, Aurora,” he muttered. San had an unnatural ability to figure you out, to figure anyone out. It’s how he always got what he wanted, most of the time. That and his physical appearance alone.
“Find me after I finish another drink,” you whispered, and he started to smile. Reading your mind, he met you in the middle and kissed you, your tongues moving in between it all. You’ve kissed him before, once on a dare, and then again on your own. It was all purely platonic, a fact he knew as well.
Ryujin, still planted on the couch across from the other with a girl on her lap now, she watched the three of you.
“Wait, are you serious?” he asked, calling after you as you parted from him and rose from the couch.
Sipping from the cup, you shrugged and said, “Don’t know yet, just come find.” Winking at the girl on his lap smiling at you, you spun around and continued your venture through the house, almost tripping over feet and shoes thrown about, giving them their moment back. If tonight went to shit, if you ended up with nobody, which you were somewhat hoping for now that you were on drink number three, you could possibly want to end up with San. For nothing more than just pure fun.
Tonight was a night for that, for fun. Legal, allowed to be having, type of fun.
Approaching the archway into the second half of the living room, you almost froze. Yeji was coming toward you, her eyes on watch, patrolling the property. As you passed one another her smile grew, and it was anything but comforting like your president's smile should be. It was menacing, the liquor twisting it into something to be afraid of.
“There she is, Ror!”
That was Soul’s voice. Escaping from Yeji you turned to follow the freshmans call, finding him holed up in a corner with a few others, his friends included.
“Come here,” he said, waving you forward with his hand not holding a can. Wandering toward him slightly sideways, he laughed and shook his head, holding open an arm for you to tumble into. “Where’ve you been?”
“Around,” you said, sipping your drink. Soul gave a look to Jongseob to his left and smiled.
“What are you drinking, babe?” he asked, taking the cup from you easily, tipping his chin back to take a sip. “Jesus,” he groaned. “Straight?”
“No, gay,” you said, narrowing your eyes and the boys around you laughed. Soul smirked, pressing you into his chest for a few seconds. “Here’s your fuel.” Handing the cup back to you, he watched you take a bigger sip this time around. “Where are you on your way to? Seonghwa?” Two of the boys snickered, Jongseob and Intak. Turning in Souls arms you gave a look to Jongseob, but then took your time with Intak, watching him clam up beneath your interrogation. 
He wore a suit tonight like the rest of the boys, his hair styled neatly on top of his head. His white button up beneath the black jacket was slightly disheveled, a few buttons undone from the top, not like it was hours ago. Holding a drink, he sipped it and blinked feverishly, his cheeks flushing as you pushed yourself out of Souls arms and wobbled over to him.
“Intak, catch her,” Jongseob muttered, and the boy listened, holding open his arms. Latching onto him, you smiled up at his brown eyes. 
“Is this the chick you were telling us about?” An unknown voice said from behind you. One of the boys they were standing here with. Twisting in Intaks arms, pressing your back to his front, giggling at how he tensed, you found the stranger's face and audibly sighed, expressing your contentment with his appearance. Curly ginger hair shamelessly let his eyes roam about your body.
“Who are you?” you asked. “I’ve never seen you before.”
The boy looked into your eyes and smiled, his even more charming than Jongseobs. “Jiung,” he said, and the name flowed off his tongue with grace. His suit was tailored perfectly to his form, showing off exactly what you’d get beneath it.
“Damn,” you breathed, laying your head onto Intak’s chest. “Why are you all hot?”
The boys broke out in laughter, making you smile. Intak slid an arm around your waist, keeping you close to him.
“Yeah, this is the chick you were telling me about,” Jiung said to Soul.
Looking at him, you asked, “What’s that mean?”
Soul faced you, put a hand on your cheek and pinched your skin. “Don’t worry about it.” Sharing a look with his friend that you pushed your ass against, he raised a brow. “Remember what you said about Intak?”
“I do,” you said. “How could I forget, Soul, he’s so cute.”
“He is, isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” you said quietly, with a smirk, “So are you.” Soul’s smile was satisfied. Looking at Jongseob you said, “And so are you, and you.” You added a glance to Jiung as well.
“Aurora, where’s your friend?” Jongseob asked, ignoring your compliment. “The tall one, brown hair, big eyes… Boyfriend.”
Your brows shot up. “Tori?” you snickered, putting your hand over Intaks, sliding it higher on your torso. Soul and Jiung watched it move, both shocked and disappointed you stopped before it reached your chest.
“Yeah, Tori,” Seob’s eyes flashed with something dark.
“Me?” Her voice was heard before she was seen, and in a flash she was glaring around at the boys and snatching onto your wrist, pulling you off of Intak. “What’s going on here?”
“We’re just talking,” Soul said, tucking his hands behind his back. Intak shoved a hand into his pocket quickly. Tori looked him up and down and scoffed.
“You guys are disgusting,” she sneered. “Welcome to ATZ, you fit right in.” Her eyes found Jongseob last, and when he winked at her her entire body reacted, shivering as she held onto you. “I can have Mingi over here in seconds.”
“Do it,” Jongseob challenged, and Tori’s eyes shot open wide.
“Leave me alone, Seob,” she said, her tone packing a punch. “Come on,” she said to you. “How are you messed up already, who’s making you drinks?”
Watching her while the two of you walked toward the back of the living room, rather, while Tori supported your body weight as she walked toward the other room, she didn’t seem all that drunk. She could hold her drinks better than you could, that was a fact, but at this point in the night she’d be a giggling mess under Mingi’s arm.
“Are you drinking?” you asked.
“Of course I am,” she said. “I’m just not drinking fast,” she glanced down at you. “I didn’t think you wanted to get drunk tonight.” Moving around the crowd around the tables focused on the dual games going on, Mingi towering over the crowd around one end, Tori maneuvered you onto one of the leather couches pushed against a wall. A couple of other girls sat close by.
“Not drunk,” you mumbled, and Tori sat next to you with a laugh.
“Okay, then what are you?” Her tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Horny now,” you said, laughing and she slapped a hand to her mouth, holding back her own laugh. “Have you seen all of these boys?”
“I have,” she said. “Jongseob has been flirting with me all night, and unfortunately he’s really good at it. I’m seconds away from telling Mingi to stand in front of me for the rest of the night.”
“Where have you been? In here?” you asked, taking a bigger gulp from your cup, almost finishing the liquor in it. Tori nodded, her eyes scanning the room.
“Me and Mina were playing over here not too long ago,” she said and your stomach sunk. “She’s still upset, I’m trying to keep it fun for her tonight.”
The light feeling your drunkenness was giving you fell flat, like you just crashed through several floors of a building. “She’s a liar.”
Groaning, Tori tipped her chin back. “Don’t start with this, Ror.”
“No,” you said, a little louder. “I think I will start with this, ‘cause it’s all… screwy, Tor.”
“How?” Your best friend pressed her lips together and put her hands in her lap.
Holding up a finger, you said, “First of all, I saw that video, her brother is at home.”
“Okay?” Tori shrugged. “Maybe he was missing that morning, and then he came back home. She can still be upset.”
“For this long, though?” you questioned, twisting on the couch to face her entirely. “Get over it already, man, it’s been a week. I once didn’t hear from my dad for a month, you think I let that hang over me once he came back? No!”
Tori tilted her head, sliding a hand over your leg. Not picking up on her attempt to comfort you, you continued.
“And, not for nothing, but it really seems like she’s milking the whole thing. Her brother had problems, we know this, don’t we all have problems?”
Tori glanced up behind you, behind the end of the couch and sat up straight. “Ror, hang on, Ror.” Grabbing onto a hand she held out to you, you shook your head. “No! She’s, like, using it for attention. Who in their right, conscience mind would use their own brother for their own personal gain? He has problems, Tor, and she’s using them to her advantage. My god, she’s already Vice President, what, does she want to take Yeji’s job? No one wants Yeji’s job. Either way, she’s lying!”
“Aurora,” Tori whispered, her eyes wide. “Stop talking.”
“Everyone wants to shut me up,” you grumbled, messily slipping out of her grip. “Can’t do anything, or anyone in this place without being burned at the stake for it.” Standing to your feet you turned to walk out of the room, but froze in place. 
Her eyes were as wide as Tori’s, but not as full of shock. Instead they were pointed, and angry.
“You think I’m lying?” Mina spoke through her teeth.
Downing the rest of the contents in your cup, you dropped it to the floor and started to smile. “I don’t think you’re lying, I know you’re lying.”
“Aurora,” she said. “You think I would do that?” Nodding without a care, you crossed your arms. “Why?” Breathless, she spared Tori a glance who stood up behind you.
“Because,” you started, then laughed when Yunho conveniently appeared behind her. “Of course,” you threw a hand toward him, “Thanks for showing up.” Looking at Mina you pointed at Yunho. “That’s why.” 
Mina looked at him, her brows screwing up on her forehead. “What!?” She whipped her head back to you, her bob swinging beneath her chin. “You think I would lie for Yunho? He has nothing to do with this.” The boy's eyes shot open, catching on.
“Not for him, Mina, to have him,” you said, speaking slowly, chopping up your words like she was a child. “You need his attention so bad that you’ll lie to keep it, ‘cause you have some sixth sense that tells you that he’s been-” “Aurora!” Tori shouted, taking your wrist, tugging you backward.
Mina grit her teeth. “You’ve been jealous since last year, Aurora.” She threw a hand behind her to touch Yunho’s chest. “He would tell me all about it.” 
You met his eyes, his worried, anxious gaze.
“The complaints, ugh,” Mina rolled her eyes, looking up at him. “Don’t deny it, Yo. Remember in the summer?” She looked at you, her glare hot. “You wouldn’t leave him alone, Ror, it was pretty desperate.” 
You felt like you’d been kicked in the gut. Yunho couldn’t say a word, he could only watch his world burn in front of him.
“I’d have left him alone if he told me he was with you,” you spat, testing your limits in Tori’s grasp, attempting to lunge forward. “Your boyfriend didn’t tell me a thing.” Mina shared a look with him.
“Aurora, don’t you dare say anything you’re gonna regret,” Tori whispered to you. Some people had their heads turned toward you and Mina’s shouting, watching the scene take place. “Don’t be stupid.”
“You know he complained about you too, Mina,” you said, cocking your head to the side. Grinning, you laughed aloud. “Is she why you always needed two rounds, Yo?” Something flashed across her face, but you couldn’t read what. Yunho, though, looked like he’d been shot. “He’s been fucking me since May, Mina,” you curled your lip. Her face went unchanged. Gasps were heard around you. Lunging in Tori’s hold again, you laughed. “He kisses you but he’s inside of me.”
Tori attempted to walk away with you, but your feet dug into the floor. This was entirely too much fun, better than joining San and his latest conquest into his bedroom. She spoke to someone behind you, but your ears were ringing, you could hear your blood pumping.
“Just wait till you get him like that,” you said. “If you ever get over yourself and let a boy touch you.” Stumbling over your feet you headed toward the archway with Tori. “Ask him to get on top, you’ll love the face he makes!”
september 28th ~ saturday ~ 1:10 a.m.
[hbic]: She confessed. Straight up. Word for word.
[seonghwa]: What the fuck, now what? If she outed herself, no sense in us doing it all over again.
[hbic]: Yeji is expecting it from us. I’ll tell her what happened. Will let you know what we’re doing.
september 28th ~ saturday ~ 1:13 a.m.
“Stay here.” Tori’s tone was stern, her hands firm on your shoulders as she propped you in the corner of the empty kitchen. Everybody danced about the living room, or the hallway, even the upstairs. There wasn’t much for them here except for a quiet space. “You’re insane, Ror, insane.” She hurried from the corner, your voice stopping her for a few seconds.
“Where are you going?” you asked, peeking at her from around the fridge. Her hair flipped over her shoulder, her eyes ablaze.
“To clean up your mess.”
Laughing as she walked away toward Mingi waiting in the doorway glaring at you, you attempted to run through what had just happened, what you threw in Mina’s face, what you had done to you and Yunho’s relationship, and you couldn’t comprehend it. You couldn’t figure out why you did it, why you said what you said, but it felt really good to say it to her face. To finally be rid of a secret that was becoming too heavy to carry. Last you heard, he was with her anyway. He could comfort her if she was upset, if she was hurt. Though, she didn’t show much of that.
She didn’t show much of anything.
Sliding down to the tiled floor, your smile dropped, and you took in the quiet. A sound so loud, even with the bumping of the music across the house. Alone with the room spinning, you took a shaky breath and felt the familiar lump in your throat.
“Why am I gonna cry?” you mumbled to yourself, attempting to blink away the tears welling up in your eyes.
Don’t cry, you thought. She deserved it.
You suppose Yunho deserved it, too. This whole time, bouncing back and forth between the two of you, even if he made the whole thing out to be him not so interested in Mina, and very much interested in you. Your closest friend of almost three years now, playing you like a fool. Confused, because it didn’t seem like he wanted to be playing you, you’re reminded of what you thought of when Mina was telling you about how good Yunho was that first week back.
Yes, him.
Yes, Yunho.
You should’ve taken your own advice.
Tears fell steadily now, staining your cheeks, falling onto the sundress you wore. You could’ve stopped it, you had all the power in the world to put an end to you and Yunho, but something kept you going, and you’re not sure if it was him or if it was your own fucked up perception of love. He spoke empty words, and you took it like he was giving you the stars from the sky. Depth didn’t exist. He didn’t remember. He never remembered.
You took his crumbs and were content with starving. For what?
“Ro?”
Lifting your head, going dizzy, you tried to wipe your cheeks but it was no use, the tears were replaced in seconds. Blinking, you found Wooyoung making his way through the kitchen, a certain hurriedness in his walk.
“You’re gonna make this worse,” you cried, squeezing your eyes shut.
He paused in front of you, squatting down. “Ro, I don’t want to make it worse, I want to help.” His voice mimicked the way he was just walking, quick and rushed, all while trying to stay calm.
“Why do you want to help me?” Opening your eyes, he wore that face he’d give you months ago.
“Because you’re really drunk,” he said carefully. Reaching out a hand, two of his fingers touched the hem of your dress and tugged it over your legs where your knees were pulled into your chest. “You don’t have to like me, you can hate me all you want right now, but please, just trust me. Let’s go outside.”
Sliding your legs out straight, your feet touched his ankles. Sighing, you shook your head and let out a cry. “It’s because of you.” Wooyoung raised a brow. “You did this.”
He held back his smile. “I got you trashed and on the floor of the kitchen?”
Holding back your own smile, you sniffled and whined. “It started with you, all of this, you’re why it’s a mess, you’re why this is happening. I was trying to get over you, and I made a mess.”
Glancing away for a second, Wooyoung held out a hand and released a breath. “Okay, let me make it up to you then, please. Come outside with me.”
“Why?” Giving him a look, he returned it.
“Because,” he said, looking toward the entrance of the kitchen. “There’s people who aren’t nice in this house.”
“And you are nice?”
Wooyoung sighed, shaking his outstretched hand he wanted you to take. “I’m trying to be nice.”
Scoffing, you shook your head. “Nice for what?”
He took a breath and looked you dead in the eyes. “Because you may have gotten over me, but I am not over you.”
He may as well have sucker punched you in the chest. You couldn’t feel your body. You were drunk, but you were not expecting those words to come out of him.
“I don’t believe you,” you whispered, and he cringed.
“I don’t expect you too, not after what you’ve been through,” he muttered, shaking his hand for the last time. “Not after what they’ve put you through.”
What?
“I told you, Ro,” he said, his voice tiny. “These people will snuff out anything standing in their way of what they want. They will get what they want, that’s why we need to leave.”
“What are you talking about?” Finally taking his hand, he sighed in relief and helped you to your feet, but it was too late.
“Oh, good,” Yeji said, turning into the kitchen with Mina and the rest of the board, from both houses, behind her. Even Tori. Even Yunho, and Mingi. “You’ve got her, good work, Wooyoung.”
He shook his head and moved in front of you. “No, I didn’t get her, I didn’t find her. We’re leaving.” 
Hongjoong, with his hands folded in front of him, laughed. “I don’t think so.”
“Aurora,” Yeji took the attention back. Peeking at her from over Wooyoung's shoulder, you stepped to his side and tightened your grip on his hand. Tori’s tear filled eyes glanced at them, then let out a quiet cry. “Something has been brought to my attention.”
Taking in the other girls, Yuna was in shock, her hands planted to her chest. Chaeryeong and Mina though, they were smiling. Tori clamped a hand over her mouth and looked at Mingi for help. Her boyfriend could only shake his head. In disappointment? In disapproval? You weren’t sure.
“What has?” you asked, hoping to play dumb, but these girls were smarter than that. Yeji was smarter than that.
Towering in the archway, Seonghwa hung his head low, piercing you with his gaze. Jongho stood behind Hongjoong as usual, wearing some form of shock like Yuna. Then Yunho, jaw tight, eyes glassy, he couldn’t look at you.
“Not only have you broken a brand new rule that’s been set into place, you’ve also broken the trust of several members of both houses,” she took a few steps into the kitchen. “Not only that, but it’s been going on for a while. Since we’ve been back, is that right Mina?” She glanced over her shoulder and the sleek brown bob gave her a nod.
“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, throat tightening. Grabbing onto Wooyoung's arms with your other hand, you pressed your fingers into his skin. A few recruits wandered up behind the board members, curious. “I promise, I didn’t mean to.”
“That doesn’t matter, unfortunately,” Yeji said, a ghost of a smile haunting her lips. “There are consequences.” She shifted her eyes over to Wooyoung and batted her lashes. “Wooyoung, you’re not needed any longer, you can leave.”
Your heart burst into pieces. Tears thickened, you let go of him, but he didn’t let go of you. Looking at you, Wooyoung gulped, then shook his head.
“No,” he said, and Yeji’s demeanor faltered.
“Wooyoung,” she said, her voice dripping with venom. He shot her a look and fully laced his fingers with yours.
Shaking his head again, he said, “No.” Taking a few steps forward with you, he said, “Let us through. We’re leaving.” Jongho stepped around Hongjoong, coming closer to the two of you. Wooyoung looked up at him and snickered. “Come on, man, let us through. I don’t feel like making a mess of anyone's kitchen tonight.”
“Wooyoung,” Yeji snapped. “Let her go, and leave the room.”
He half listened to her. Taking his hands off of you, he clenched his jaw and walked up to her. Entirely vulnerable before all of them, you wrapped your arms around yourself and dug your nails into your skin.
“Good job,” Yeji smiled at him. She lifted a hand to touch the bottom of his chin. “Your work here is done.”
Smacking her hand away before it could touch him, Chaeryeong gasped and Mina narrowed her eyes as Wooyoung opened his mouth. “It is, Yeji. My work here is done. I’m done playing your game. I’m done being a puppet.”
“Wooyoung,” Yeji whispered, her fists clenching at her sides. “Watch it, you know what’s going to happen.”
Looking back at you, Wooyoung shrugged. “I think it’s pretty worth it.”
“You don’t even know if she’ll want you,” Yeji said, her voice never breaking. “You’ll lose all of this,” she gestured to everyone behind her. “You could make it out of this with nothing, or, you could walk out of here with us on your side. You take your pick.”
He smiled at her. Looking at his brothers, he nodded. Hongjoong stared him down, his eyes flickering to Yeji for a few seconds. When Wooyoung turned to come back to your side, you let him take your hand. He was wearing that face again. That I care about you face.
“Wooyoung,” Hongjoong almost shouted.
“You have several other pawns to play with,” Wooyoung snapped at him. Then he looked at you. He made sure you were looking at him when he nodded. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and you couldn’t feel your knees. “I want you to believe me, but I understand if you don’t, okay?”
“Okay,” you whispered.
“Last semester,” he started, and the nausea must’ve been apparent on your face because he slid a hand over your cheek as tears fell. “What you thought happened? What you think we did? Me and Yeji?” You took a shaky breath and he brushed away tears beneath your lashes. “It didn’t happen. It never happened.”
The boys in the archway whispered to one another, turning into a circle while Yeji, Chaeryeong and Mina watched them, waiting for something.
“What?” you gasped, eyes shooting open wide.
Wooyoung nodded. “It wasn’t real. It was made up, it was a lie. I never slept with her, she made it seem like we did.” Making sure you kept your eyes on him, he squeezed your hand. “Aurora, I was hurting. You were clearly in love with him, and I was watching it happen. I wanted to give you… everything. I’ve never felt like this about somebody, ever, and I barely even had you.”
There weren’t any words you could piece together to give him any sort of answer. Beside yourself, you could only coach yourself to take deep breaths.
“I fell into their game, and it was easy to do, you know what everybody thinks of me,” he said, and that hurt your heart more than it should. “I don’t understand how I’m sluttier than San, but that’s besides the point.”
“What’s the point?” you whispered.
Wooyoung took a breath. “You were supposed to be the president, Ro.” Your legs almost gave out. Moving his arms to your waist, he held onto you. “She paid them off. They wanted you. The others wanted you. When the houses came together to decide who’d move up, who’d get the spot, your name was on the list.” He gestured his head toward the archway. “They still have the fucking papers, I’ve seen them.”
“Tori,” you whispered, and Wooyoung listened. “Tori knew? Yuna?” You both lifted your heads to look their way. Chaeryeong, Mina and Yeji joined the group of boys. Tori and Yuna were against the wall, holding onto each other. They didn’t know. Your best friend pleaded with you with her eyes to believe her. Mingi moved from the group, his own eyes wide, joining his girlfriend who pushed him away.
“Ro, they wanted to get you out,” Wooyoung whispered. “I’ve been watching all of this happen since last semester. I know that makes me not a great person right now, I could’ve told you, but there was a lot at stake. A lot that I’m not afraid to risk right now, because this is ridiculous.”
“What is it? What’s going to happen?”
“He’s done, Aurora,” Hongjoong said, loud enough to cut into the bubble you and Wooyoung were creating around yourselves. “He’s out. No more ATZ for Wooyoung.”
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NU home ✧ nice for what masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ thank you for reading <3
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you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.
#helllOOOO PART 2#i need a moment bro i knew we were getting messy and messy rich kid drama but ID DIDNT KNOW BOTH OF ALL PF THE HOUSES WERE IN ON IT#YEAHHHHHH????#what type of bull is this this is next level of insanity bro#did isla find out and that’s why she left??? or is that something completely different#shoutout to tori for yanking rory away from the p1h guys bc that whole scene just had screaming in my head rory please get out of there!!!#and the flashbacks with woo and the coffee shop scene had me🥺he really tried to look out for her and that hurts my heart that everyone else#is a fake piece of#gosh and the confrontation(?) or crash out with rory and mina oh my gosh i was STRESSED i’m glad she got all of that out since everyone was#literally working against her anyway but it pisses me off that she is the target#AND FOR WHAT#that hate to see strong capable women succeed#yeji when i catch you yeji#then i’m coming for everyone!#shoutout to wooyoung for being one of the only respectable men in that frat! he made a mistake but i won’t fault him compared to the rest o#them#idk i think in the next chapter they should burn down the block but that’s just me personally#like ain’t no wayyyy everyone in my life is gonna orchestrate my downfall and then have a goodnight sleep it just can’t happen#rory wooyoung get behind me!#edit: actually no i’m not done!#they are some little rats for all ganging up on her like that too!!!! with their faux looks of disappointment like i’d rather you just smil#like mina! at least she at that energy!#i hope seonghwa trips on those stairs fr fr#chimivx no i’m not okay i’m pissed and i want revenge😭#yunho can stub his toe and hongjoong especially irritated me even though this like his second appearance but just his smug lil demeanor mad#me annoyed
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luveline · 1 year ago
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gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing
thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k
Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated. 
You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong. 
"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?" 
"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks. 
Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach. 
"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong." 
"I'm just trying to figure something out." 
This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance. 
You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein. 
He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?" 
That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop. 
"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something. 
"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself." 
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention." 
He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights. 
Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done? 
You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time. 
I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again. 
You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears. 
This is all so messy, and it's your fault. 
I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me. 
You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid. 
The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help. 
"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?" 
He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go." 
He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention. 
Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up. 
He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell. 
Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you. 
"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it." 
Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry." 
Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel. 
Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug. 
He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes  
He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon. 
His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two. 
"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset " 
"I'm an idiot–" 
"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"
"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–" 
"I shouldn't have–" 
"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away. 
Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up." 
He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into? 
"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me." 
Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says. 
"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile. 
"It's not okay." 
"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even." 
"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked." 
"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?" 
"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back." 
You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better." 
"I know." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you." 
What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful. 
"Does it look really bad?" 
"N–no. You look really pretty," he says. 
"Are my eyes puffy?"
A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already." 
"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to." 
Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid." 
"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask. 
Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not." 
You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure." 
"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."
"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want." 
"Can I give you a hug?" he asks. 
You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it. 
"That feels nice," you mumble. 
He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?" 
"Don't," you warn. 
He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?" 
"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it. 
"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry." 
Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.
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itneverendshere · 2 months ago
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okay we know rafes help reader in situations like with electricity and no car and such. but maybe it’s the first time where he knows he’s in love with her and she’s the one for him, where she doesn’t go to him for any help. and it’s maybe like not having enough money to buy groceries for herself, or how she walks to work still bc she can’t afford gas. and he gets so mad, and she thinks it’s an inconvenience to him. but it’s actually because rafe will always be there for her, and no matter what the problem is , he can fix it just for her
you got me overnight - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader(bartender!reader universe) warnings: first fight and confession 🫂
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Rafe knew convincing you he was worth a shot was the easiest part of your relationship.
You were absolutely perfect, made to be his. He could picture you right now, the way you’d smile at his stupid jokes, the warmth of your hand in his, or how you’d send him those random "good morning" texts that hit him like a gut punch every time. You were everything. It wasn’t just the way you looked, although that obviously had him floored, but the way you thought about things, the way you cared about people. It was all of it. You gave a shit.
That was something new for him.
He never thought he’d get someone like you, someone who made him want to be better. It was months later, and he was hooked.
Totally gone. You were the real deal for him. Every time his phone buzzed with your name on the screen, it hit him in the chest. Hard.
So when you dropped it on him, casually, that you were walking to work because you didn’t have the gas money while he’d been away on a family holiday, it set off something inside him.
You said it like it was no big deal, like it was just another part of your day. He was losing it. The idea of you walking to work, sweating it out while he was chilling on vacation, made him feel sick. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.
Rafe’s jaw clenched. He didn’t understand why you didn’t tell him earlier, didn’t ask for help. Why didn’t you call him? He could’ve handled it in a second, no problem. You didn’t need to be doing stuff like that. 
“You’ve been walking to work?”
“Yeah… it’s fine. It’s not far,” you replied, brushing it off like it was nothing.
But it wasn’t nothing. Not to him. He knew how far your walk was.
He knew it wasn’t just around the corner. And you didn’t have to be doing this. Even if he hadn’t been there for the past week to give you a ride as he usually did, he could’ve taken care of it even if he was miles away. He was always here for you, even if he wasn’t physically there.
Rafe gripped the counter tighter, trying to keep his frustration under control, for your sake. “Why didn’t you say anything? You didn’t tell me you were low on gas.”
You gave a little shrug, as if that was the end of the conversation.
“Didn’t wanna bother you. It’s not your problem.”
Didn’t wanna bother him? Not his problem? You were his problem, the best kind of problem, and he couldn’t understand why you thought you had to handle everything by yourself. It pissed him off—not at you, but at the fact that you were doing this, struggling in silence. It was like you didn’t trust him to be there for you. 
You didn’t trust him enough to lean on him when you needed something.
“What do you mean it’s not my problem?” His voice came out harsher than what he'd hoped for, and you froze, eyes wide.
“Whoa. Chill,” you said, holding your hands up defensively. “I didn’t think you’d get so worked up about it. I can handle it.”
But that wasn’t the point. You shouldn’t have to handle it. Not when you had him. You were supposed to lean on him, to come to him when things like this came up. 
That’s what being together meant.
It was crazy to him. Every part of him wanted to protect you, to make sure you didn’t have to deal with anything like this on your own. The thought of you walking to work—tired, probably stressed out—while he was away doing nothing important...he hated it.
"You don’t have to handle it, though," he argued, voice softer now but still frustrated “That’s the thing. You don’t get it, do you? I want to help. I need to help. When you're struggling, that's my problem too. I wanna be there for you. Always.”
You looked at him like he was overreacting like he was making something out of nothing. “Baby, it’s not that serious. It’s just a couple of walks. You’re acting like I was in danger or something.”
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm down, but it wasn’t working. "It's not about the fucking walks. It's the fact that you didn’t even think to tell me. Like I wouldn’t care.”
You sighed, rubbing your temples like you were tired of this conversation already. “I didn’t wanna bother you. You were on vacation. I didn’t want to stress you out over something so small.”
He didn’t know why it pissed him off so much, but it did. It was gnawing at him like a splinter under his skin, “You’re serious? You didn’t think it was worth mentioning?” 
You shifted on your feet, already defensive. “I don’t know. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. I figured I’d just handle it.”
“That’s exactly the problem!” he snapped, stepping closer to you, his hand gesturing wildly. “You figured you’d handle it? What the fuck? Why would you think I wouldn’t want to know about something like this?”
“Because it’s stupid gas money, Rafe!” you fired back, your frustration bubbling to the surface now. “I didn’t wanna bother you with something so small! You were gone, and I didn’t want to make it a whole fucking thing.”
He could hear the irritation in your voice, but it just made him angrier.
You thought you were protecting him from being “bothered,” but all it did was make him feel like you didn’t need him. Like you didn’t think he could help, or worse, like you didn’t want him to.
“Small? Are you fucking kiddin’ me? You walked to work for how many days, in the heat, probably tired as fuck, and you think that’s small?” His voice was rising, and he hated that he couldn’t control it, but he was too worked up now. “It’s not about the gas money. It’s the fact that you didn’t tell me. You kept it to yourself, like I’m just some fucking dude who’s not in your life like that.”
You crossed your arms, your own frustration clear. “Rafe, you’re blowing this way out of proportion. I didn’t need to tell you because I can take care of myself. I’m not helpless.”
“That’s not what this is about!” he nearly shouted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “This isn’t about you being helpless or not! It’s about you letting me be there for you, letting me help you when things get tough. Shit. That’s what this is, what we are. You don’t fucking get it.”
“I do fucking get it, Rafe!” you snapped back, stepping closer to him, your eyes burning with misplaced anger. “But I don’t need to run to you every time something goes wrong. I’m not gonna fall apart because of a few days without a car.”
He was grinding his teeth now, trying to keep his composure but failing miserably. “It’s not about falling apart. It’s about the fact that you didn’t even think to lean on me! You didn’t trust me enough to just call and say, ‘Hey baby, I’m low on gas. Can you help?’ You shouldn’t have to figure it out on your own.”
You threw your hands up, exasperated. “I did figure it out! I walked. It wasn’t some huge disaster. I made it work.”
“But you shouldn’t have had to!” he yelled, his voice echoing in the kitchen. “Why can’t you get that? You don’t have to handle shit like this alone! I want to be there for you. I need to be there for you. Don’t you get that?”
You flinched at the volume of his voice, but you didn’t back down.
“You’re acting like I don’t care about us because I didn’t ask you to bail me out. I care, Rafe. But I can deal with things on my own, too. I’m not just gonna dump every little problem on you like it’s your job to fix everything.”
Rafe shook his head, running his hands through his hair for the millionth time, pacing now because he couldn’t stand still. “It is my job, though. That’s the whole fucking point. I’m supposed to be the one you come to when things go wrong sweets, big or small. I’m supposed to be the one who makes your life easier, not the guy you hide stuff from.”
You let out a frustrated laugh, disbelief coloring your tone. “Hide? Seriously? You think I’m hiding things from you? It was gas money, Rafe, not some deep, dark secret.”
“It feels like it, though!” he shot back, voice cracking slightly, betraying the emotion he’d been holding back. “It feels like you don’t trust me. Like I’m not… like I’m not enough for you to depend on.”
You went silent at that, your arms dropping to your sides as you stared at him, the tension between you thick and heavy. “That’s not fair,” you said quietly, shaking your head. “You know that’s not true.”
“Do I?” his voice cracked slightly, “Because it doesn’t feel like it. I’m out here thinking I’m the one who’s supposed to have your back, but you’re just out there, dealing with stuff alone. It makes me feel like… I don’t know. Like I’m not even part of your life like that.”
“That’s not what this is,” you said, stepping toward him now, the fight draining out of your voice. “I didn’t ask you because I didn’t want you to worry. Not because I don’t trust you. I thought I was helping by not making you deal with it.”
He let out a bitter laugh. “Helping? You think it helps me to know you’re struggling and didn’t say anything? That’s not helping. Shit, that’s torture, baby. I’d rather know and fix it than find out after and feel like an idiot because I wasn’t there.”
You sighed, rubbing your face with both hands, exhaustion settling in. “Rafe, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I didn’t think it was that serious.”
“It’s serious to me,” he said, his voice almost a whisper now, the anger ebbing away, leaving only the hurt behind. “Because I love you. And when you love someone, you don’t want them to handle things alone. You want to be there. Always.”
You froze, eyes wide as you stared at him. What? He hadn’t planned to say it like this, not in the middle of a fight, but there it was—out there and real.
“I love you,” he repeated, quieter this time. “And I need you to understand that means I’m here. For all of it. No matter how small it seems.”
He said it. He loved you. Maybe it wasn’t the best timing, but at least it was out of his chest. This man who had always been so intense, so fiercely protective, was looking at you like you held his entire world in your hands. And you did.
He loved you. That word—love—felt huge, almost too much. But it was what you had felt for him too. It was why you held back from asking for help, not because you didn’t trust him, but because you didn’t want to burden him with every little problem. You thought you were protecting him. Now, standing there, you realized maybe you’d gotten it wrong.
“You l-love me?”
“Yeah. I thought that was obvious by now.”
“Rafe…” you started, but he shook his head, his jaw clenched like he was bracing himself for rejection.
“It’s fine,” he mumbled, turning away, his hand running through his face. “You don’t have to say anything. I just—I just needed you to know.”
“No.” You stepped forward, reaching for his hand before he could pull completely away. “No, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to just say it and walk away like I’m not standing right here.”
His gaze shot back to yours, confused and a little bit guarded, like he wasn’t sure what to expect.
“I love you too,” you said, the words feeling right as soon as they left your lips. You squeezed his hand, needing him to feel it. “I love you, okay? I didn’t ask for help because I didn’t want to drag you into my mess. I thought I was being strong, handling things on my own. I never wanted you to feel like I didn’t need you. I do need you,” you continued, stepping closer, your voice trembling slightly. “And I know now that I should’ve just called. That I should’ve let you help me, because that’s what we do. We’re a team. I just didn’t want to be a burden.”
Rafe let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world had just been lifted off him. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest, his grip almost desperate. You melted into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, feeling the calming thrum of his heartbeat.
“You’re not a burden,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “You’ll never be a burden. I just—I need you to let me be there for you. I don’t care what it is. Big or small, I wanna know. I wanna help.”
You nodded against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, letting the warmth of his skin calm you.
“Okay. I promise.”
He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. There was something in his eyes now that hadn’t been there before—relief, maybe, but more than that. Love. He felt you relax against him, your body molding into his.
“Say it again,” he murmured, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You chuckled softly, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your palm. “I love you, Rafe.”
He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. “I need you to get something,” he said softly, his voice much calmer now “When I say I love you, I’m not just saying it. I mean it. Like… for real. I’m in this, all the way.”
You blinked up at him, your eyes wide “I—” you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off gently.
“No, listen,” he interrupted, “I’ve never felt like this before. You’re everything. And I love you for it. I love every single part of you.”
He felt his chest tighten as he said it, like the words were coming from somewhere so deep inside him that he hadn’t even realized they were there until now. But they were, and they were real. He didn’t just love you���he needed you. He wasn’t sure if you’d even processed it yet. Then, slowly, you grinned, your eyes glistening just a little. 
 “This just… it feels so big. Holy shit, bigger than anything I’ve ever felt.”
“That’s because it is big,” Rafe said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours again. “It’s the biggest thing in the world to me. You are.”
Your breath hitched, and he could feel you trembling slightly in his arms. You reached up, cupping his face with your hands, and for the first time since the fight started, Rafe felt like you were really seeing him. Not just in that moment, but all of him—the guy who was scared out of his mind at how much he needed you, but who was willing to do anything to keep you close.
“I love you too,” you said it again, your voice shaking a little as you said it. “I’m sorry.”
 “We’re in this together,” he kissed your knuckles, his own fingers gently brushing through your hair. “No more going through stuff alone. Not you, not me. We’ve got each other now.”
You smiled, and Rafe felt like he could breathe again, really breathe, for the first time all night. “Deal,” you whispered.
And right there, he knew that everything was going to be okay.
Because you weren’t just someone he loved—you were his person. 
598 notes · View notes
sutorus · 1 year ago
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HEART SHAKER
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PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader
WC: ~1k
WARNINGS: established relationship, suggestive language, flirting, attempts at humor. fluff, somehow.
A/N: super freaking unedited i just had to get this out bc i can’t believe it’s not smut LOL
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“god, you’re squeezing me so hard, sweetheart.”
you look up through your eyelashes at your boyfriend, brows set low in a warning. he only smirks. 
you pump harder. 
“oh fuck, it’s so tight right now.”
you huff in annoyance, slapping both hands down on your legs. 
“can you stop? i lost count!”
satoru laughs at you, throwing his head back. 
you cringe at how loud his movements sound in your ears, the stethoscope you were using still pressed to his skin. 
you release the pressure on the cuff around his arm, sighing deeply. 
“once again, i’m going to ask you,” you enunciate the words slowly, your eyes aiming at his, right behind that blindfold. “why don’t you have shoko do this?”
you’re sure if it were her measuring his blood pressure she could get actual accurate results. 
satoru tilts his head, smiling sweetly. 
“and why would i do that?” he singsongs. “you’re the prettiest little doctor around.”
“resident,” you correct him. 
you wish so badly that he was due for a vaccine or something, just so you would have an excuse to stab him. 
of course, you weren't complaining. you’re incredibly lucky that shoko took you under her wing once you got a job at the school. you weren’t able to master reverse cursed technique at her level quite yet, but you were just as good of a regular doctor as she was. 
it didn’t matter how good you were though, because you weren’t a pediatrician or a saint, and it takes one of either to deal with gojo satoru as a patient. 
“why do we even bother with check ups?” he asks, leaning back on the exam table. “i am literally healing my body twenty-four-seven.”
you roll your eyes, grabbing the light test hammer. 
“what kind of question is that? sit up straight,” you shuffle on your chair, getting in between his too-spread legs. whore. 
satoru shrugs, kicking his dangling feet. “a valid one.”
you bring the hammer down hard on his knee to check his reflexes. naturally, it stops just shy of his leg. 
you don’t even have to look. you know he’s smirking again. 
“turn infinity off.”
“‘turn infinity off’? you’re so cute,” he replies. you try to hit him with the hammer again to no avail. “i need to teach you some combat skills, girl.”
“and i need to examine you,” you get up off your seat, facing him. satoru leans in with a grin. “behave.”
he won’t. 
“wanna play doctor?” 
you ignore his voice and the obvious glee in it, a retort dying on your tongue because you do actually have to carry out a check up, to the best of your abilities. 
grabbing your clipboard, you skim through his most recent health assessment records.
he complained about a migraine to shoko. 
it makes your heart seize for just a moment, to think of all the stress satoru puts himself through to have his technique active at all times. 
“how’s your head?” you ask him. 
“you tell me,” his foot grazes the back of your knee, coaxing you closer. “any complaints?”
a dissatisfied sound comes out of your mouth as you press your hands to his chest instinctively, forcing distance between you two. 
“satoru, please.”
“do you worry, baby?” he reaches out to tentatively hold the side of your face. “don’t worry about me.”
“it’s literally my job,” you trail off, head dropping. 
satoru lifts your chin up and presses his lips to yours for a second or two. 
“sorry, sorry,” he says before you can chastise him. “couldn’t help it. you look so cute all worked up.”
at this point you just twist your lips disapprovingly, putting the stethoscope earpieces back on. 
you press it to his chest and listen as he breathes in and out. 
“satoru,” you frown. “are you okay?”
“hmm?”
you look at him knowingly, a smirk of your own blooming on your face. 
“why is your heart beating so fast?”
at that, your awful, awful boyfriend finally has the decency to blush. 
“and you’re breathing so hard, too—“
“it’s hard, alright—“
“—we might have to schedule some follow up exams,” you click your pen to fill out the form, neglecting the way he leans into you. 
“anytime,” he huffs out, breath skirting on your face where you stand between his knees. “do i get a lollipop for being such a good boy?”
“no,” you reply, taking a step forward. “but you can have this.”
you plant a kiss on his lips, letting it linger for longer than it should as he holds your hips tightly.
he hums contentedly when you pull away.
“mm, smart and generous,” satoru noses your jawline. “how did i get so lucky?”
you fight the sudden shyness rising up at his words.
“the same way i got so unlucky,” you smile at his pout. “life’s just not fair.”
he coos.
“you sweettalk all your patients or am i special?”
despite your best efforts not to, you grin at that.
“the most special,” you say, interlocking your fingers. “now get back to work.”
satoru grumbles a complaint but hops off the table nonetheless.
“thanks a bunch for seeing me, doc,” he leans down to hover his face right above yours. you push him away with a fingertip to his forehead.
“no problem. now shoo.”
you walk up to your desk to hopefully do some actual work now that your most special patient is leaving.
“ah, but i was wondering—“
“yes?” you don’t bother looking up from your paperwork.
“if you could give me some anatomy lessons sometime—“
“out!”
he slips out the door before you can turn around to see it.
you take a deep breath.
you love satoru to death, but you’re beginning to understand why shoko picked up smoking as a stress reliever.
2K notes · View notes
koqabear · 1 year ago
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love fool ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
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♫: Seven, Jungkook // Lovefool, The Cardigans // I only want to be with you, Tommy february6
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“In which Yeonjun is more than willing to show you the lengths he’ll go for you.”
yeonjun x fem!reader
Genre: established relationship, inspired by “Seven” mv, fluff, angst, smut
Word count: 10.6K
warnings: don’t take this story seriously pls. it’s ridiculous. yj is clingy. and emotional. and a bit pathetic. the mc is avoidant… and a bit of a bitch ! Lack of communication smh, a bit toxic if u squint ur eyes but it’s supposed to be cute idk (seven mv type toxic skdjdj) yj is a frat boy & a himbo (pick a struggle, pls), arguing, mc has acrylic nails, use of the phrase “boyfriend-girlfriend” bc i’m obsessed w it
smut warnings: mean dom!mc, sub!yj, (mentions of dom!yj) service top!yj, unprotected sex, manhandling (m. rec), hairpulling, name calling, (bitch, stupid, slut, etc) pet names (baby, good boy), dry humping, biting, marking, scent kink (?), scratching, dumbification, dacryphilia, forced orgasm (kinda), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, yj rambles. a lot. breast play, handjob, humiliation, creampie, subspace, implied oral (f. rec) (lemme know if i should add anything!)
Notes: fucking hate arguing with men w/ pretty puppy eyes like i will fuck the shit outta y-
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Yeonjun hates when you’re mad at him. It makes him feel guilty and leaves him with a gross feeling in his stomach, pouty and annoying as his friends are always left to deal with the mess. 
It doesn’t happen often— he tries his hardest not to make you mad, always saying yes and going above and beyond with you— he loves to please you and make you happy, which is exactly why it hits harder when you look at him like you never want to see him again. 
“I don’t want to see you around, don’t talk to me!”
But sometimes, he just can’t help it. 
He seriously doesn’t know what he did wrong— there were no anniversaries forgotten, no plans he stood you up on, no petty arguments— and yet, here he sits, sinking into his couch and burrowed in blankets as his friends try to get him to come out of his cocoon, all with no success.
“Is she mad at you again?” Beomgyu asks, his voice muffled despite sitting on top of Yeonjun— literally, he couldn’t feel his legs— and he hears him groan at the sight of Yeonjun nodding under the mass of blankets, cursing quietly to himself and undoubtedly rolling his eyes, “dude, what did you do?”
“I don’t knowww,” Yeonjun cries out, throwing the blankets off him and onto Beomgyu as he whines— he watches as Beomgyu flails about for a second, running his hands through his hair as he continues to stress about you, “she— she said she didn’t wanna see me again, but I miss her…”
“Fuck, she’s probably just saying that because she wants space— dude, are you crying?”
“What if she was breaking up with me?” Yeonjun asks, and Beomgyu is amazed to see the way his wide eyes are welling up with tears; god, he’s actually crying now, the sight childish and unhinged as he watches his (older) friend sniffle and hiccup through his sentences, “what if— what if she— she, she, she really meant it— god, I don’t wanna break up, I don’t even know what I did wronggg!”
“Okay, okay,” Beomgyu grimaces, watching the way his friend breaks down before his eyes; his hand is stiff and awkward as it pats Yeonjun’s back, trying his best to comfort him, wincing at the way Yeonjun only cries harder, “It’s… probably nothing, I’m sure she’ll talk to you again tomorrow, or once she’s calmed down.”
“You think?” Yeonjun asks, peeking through his hands and up at Beomgyu with sparkling eyes, full of hope as Beomgyu can only crack a nervous smile.
“Yeah,” he says, patting Yeonjun’s back again in reassurance, “Yeah— just, be patient, okay?”
Patient is the last word one would use to describe Yeonjun. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
MONDAY
This is it. 
Yeonjun has been waiting all weekend for this moment (Or just Sunday, to be more accurate), restless on his feet as he finds himself pacing back and forth— he’s nibbling at his lip nervously, arms sore and tired from the weight of the gift he holds in his hands; a bouquet of your favorite flowers, pristine and in full bloom— it’s large and quite heavy as it practically covers his face, but Yeonjun knew that a small bouquet would do nothing to show his love for you. 
He would try to talk to you as soon as your class ended. He needed to know what he did wrong, and he sure as hell would not do it again. You didn’t text him after the argument, and it only left him uneasy at the thought of you really wanting to end things.
He didn’t want to lose you. Not like this. 
Admittedly, he got a bit ahead of himself— he’s been waiting outside for the past half hour, arriving much too early as he stood out in the hall awkwardly— at some point, he tried peeking into the small, rectangular window next to the door, hunched over slightly and pouting as he scanned the room for you. 
When he spotted you, he was delighted to see you had already been looking at him. 
He couldn’t contain the wide smile that stretched across his face, waving at you excitedly in hopes you’d do the same— unable to realize that the whole class was now looking at him, he was confused to watch the way your face screwed up into an expression of sheer embarrassment, shielding your face with your hand and looking away as some students began following his line of sight. 
Why did you do that? You were ignoring him, and it hurt like a bitch as Yeonjun frowned. His mind was racing as he began wondering what he might’ve done wrong— he was so focused, in fact, that he failed to notice the professor blocking his view, his reaction time much too slow as his eyes flickered up to meet the man’s gaze. Flustered, he backed away quickly, his face heating up as he bowed in apology— he hugged the bouquet close to his chest as he did, mumbling out a soft sorry the man probably couldn’t even hear. 
You, on the other hand, could hear the way your professor laughed at Yeonjun’s actions, absolutely mortified by the way he turned around and began to joke to the class, saying that “It looks like someone here has an admirer,” whilst looking in your direction, your classmates laughing along before he went back to his lecture.
Shit, this was so embarrassing. 
Yeonjun is so fucking stupid, you cry to yourself, peeking over at the doorway in hopes that he took the hint and left— but no, he definitely didn’t, because you could still see his figure through the window, leaning against the wall and holding an item the size of his whole upper body close to his chest. 
The last thing you wanted to do was go outside and see him— but that’s exactly what happened anyway, even if you lingered behind once class ended in hopes that Yeonjun would get impatient and wait— patience was never his strongest virtue, after all. 
But for you, anything could change. 
This is exactly why you find him outside the door, face hidden with what is, to your surprise, a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. 
Fuck, you seriously don’t want to talk to him right now. Gritting your teeth, you use this moment to sneak past him, a slight guilt tugging at you as you look back, spotting the way he seems oblivious to the fact that you’ve left already. 
Looking back was your first mistake.
Because Yeonjun, in a truly creepy fashion, is almost able to sense it, whipping his head to you and perking up at the way you only walk faster— then begin sprinting, refusing to look back again once he starts chasing after you. 
“Baby,” you hear him call out to you, the ridiculous rustling of his bouquet slightly muffling his words as his footsteps thud against the tiles; for an athlete, you’d expect him to catch up to you already, but you quietly pat yourself on the back for the slight head start you gave yourself. 
“Baby, wait!” he continues to yell, ignoring the strange stares from those passing by, “Please, let me talk to you!” 
“I don’t wanna talk!” you growl out, your emotions taking over as you remember why you’re mad at him, “leave me alone!”
You’re outside now; you’re a huffing and sweaty mess, but you refuse to slow down for even a second, the threat of Yeonjun hot on your heels fueling your stamina. 
“Can you please tell me what I did wrong?” He yells, exasperated as he watches you run off the sidewalk— you’re attempting to lose him, but countless running drills and morning runs have prepared him for this moment— without a second thought, he’s following you, attempting to peek over his— inconveniently large, he must admit— bouquet, watching the way you simply continue to run, glancing back every once in a while to see if he’s still there. 
“Please, can we be civil and talk about this?!” his words have you turning around to send him a glare— instead, you stumble to a stop as you watch Yeonjun trip, eyes widening at the dramatic sight before you. 
He’s fallen flat on his face, a puff of petals blowing up around him as you wince— he’s face-first into whatever’s left of the flowers, the rest of the petals fluttering in the air around him and falling delicately on his figure as you stare, the place eerily silent save for the chirping birds and rustling leaves.
He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t even attempt to get up, left splattered all over the grass as you stare at him in slight concern. 
“Yeonjun?” you call out uncertainly, shifting on your feet as you pause. He doesn’t respond— he’s left frozen on the ground, and you’re frowning at the sight as you slowly make your way to him; you approach him slowly, as though you were approaching a wild animal, tense in your movements as you lean in to observe him. 
“Did you die?” you ask quietly, taking in the way he still hasn’t moved. Not an inch. You feel more concerned than you want to admit, crouching down in front of him as you bite your lip in worry. 
“Do you hate me.” the sudden words have you flinching, staring down at Yeonjun, who’s still eating dirt and flowers. You frown, scoffing at the way he weakly reaches out for you— swiftly, you slap his hand, watching the way it flops back onto the ground. 
“No— yes— a little,” you stutter out, angry at the way you bounce between responses just from the mere pathetic sight of him. 
“Can you forgive me?” he asks, the words muffled as it takes you a minute to decipher what he may be saying— you can’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.  
“For what?” you ask, picking a petal off his back absentmindedly as you wait— if he could answer properly, you might consider giving in. 
“For existing.” 
God, Yeonjun was such a sap. It has you biting back a smile as you resist the urge to stroke his hair, mused and riddled with petals from his grand gesture— but his answer was not the one you were looking for, and you’re standing back up and readjusting your clothes without another word. 
“pleaaaaseee,” you hear him whine, watching the way he shrivels up into a ball— then, he’s sitting back on his legs, whipping his head up and looking at you with wide, teary eyes. 
“Please take the flowers with you at least,” he pouts, thrusting the bouquet— or, whatever was left of it— up at you with pleading eyes.
Pressing your lips together, you sigh; a moment passes before you’re taking the gift from him begrudgingly, ignoring the way he perks up happily at your action. 
“I’m still mad at you,” you hiss, and he immediately deflates at your words, “Don’t visit my class like that again. Please.” 
He says nothing, left to watch as you turn your back to him and walk away; he has yet to get up, his heart pounding against his chest as he watches the way you hug the flowers close to you, shaking your head at the state of them. 
This was… progress. 
But you’re still mad at him. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
TUESDAY
Visiting you in class was a big no. 
Visiting you in general, however, wasn’t off-limits.
You don’t want to talk to him? Fine, he can understand. In fact, he won’t talk to you at all— a feat much greater said than done— but hey, he always loved staring at you anyway. 
Well, it’s a little hard to stare by the way you’ve propped up textbooks around your face like a fort. 
He’s staring. He’s still staring. You can practically feel his puppy-eyed gaze burn into your brain telepathically; no matter how hard you try to focus on your work, it’s become damn near impossible with the way you can feel Yeonjun’s presence, your neck beginning to ache from the way you’ve remained ducked down this whole time. 
It was easy to deal with at first; you chose not to do anything the moment you saw Yeonjun emerge from the staircase and onto the top floor of the library— otherwise known as the quietest level. 
He wouldn’t be able to talk to you without disturbing the peace of others— and potentially being asked to leave— so you decided to not make a scene and go back to studying, even when you felt his eyes lock on your figure and beeline to you. 
He sat across from you first. Though, you were quick to move, pretending as though you were looking for a book as you quickly ran away to the other side of the library. You felt the way his eyes followed you the whole time— he looked like a kicked puppy, and damn did that stupid tactic of his always work, because you even felt yourself pausing for a second, wondering if you should give in and talk to him. 
But, you are a horrendously petty person.
You were holed up in some random corner. You didn’t even know there was a table there until today, the spot so secluded and quiet that you silently celebrated getting him off your trail.
It was peaceful— for like, a good ten minutes. 
You didn’t think much of it when you first heard it; footsteps, slow and calculated as they rounded about the bookshelves. You could hear the sound of books being pulled out clear as day, though you chose to ignore it all and keep focus on your assignments instead. 
After a moment, the footsteps disappeared. 
It was back to being completely silent. And, in your bored state, you began to look around the area you were huddled up in; curiously, you allowed yourself to walk around, reading the spines and pulling out books that seemed to pique your interest even slightly. 
There seemed to be another person here as well— maybe it was the same person as before, or maybe it was someone new— you didn’t pay mind to it nonetheless, continuing your journey as your eyes locked in on a particularly colorful book.
Slowly, you pulled it out— on the other side, you watched the book adjacent to yours slowly get pulled out as well, and a smile tugged at your lips at the odd coincidence. 
Then, your eyes met with Yeonjun’s. 
His gaze filled with admiration was only returned with a mean scowl from you. You were quick to shove the book back into its place, storming off to your table without a moment’s hesitation. 
Yeonjun was quickly able to find your hiding spot— one might think you could cry from the way you buried your face into your hands defeatedly, refusing to look up from your dark refuge as the sounds of a chair scraping against the carpeted floors met your ears. 
That’s how you found yourself here, ignoring what people might think as you hide behind your fortress of textbooks. You didn’t feel good staying in a secluded area with Yeonjun— not because you thought he might try to do anything— but because you were afraid of your own resolve crumbling, especially after you’d spent so much time trying to ignore him. 
You wonder if he’s still here. Who are you kidding, of course he’s still here, though you can’t really bring yourself to check and see for yourself. 
After a while, you hear scribbling sounds. 
You can’t hide the way you jump as a piece of paper hits your head, folded into a perfect heart and landing in front of you with a dull thud. 
Open me :( it says, and though you wish you could say you were strong enough to ignore it, you definitely aren’t.
Can you pls let me look at u at least?
You don’t get much of a moment to process the message. Another paper lands directly in front of you, shaped into a heart and scrawled with the same words as the last— slowly, you open it, dreading what might be written inside this time. 
I miss you so so so so so much. 
You shake your head at his words. Sliding the paper to the side, you ignore his request, choosing to focus on your work instead of giving in to his silly tactics. After a moment, you wonder if you’ll be getting another paper— instead, nothing happens; the sigh of relief you let out is almost comical, your body relaxing a bit as you allow yourself to wonder if he’s finally left. 
That was your second mistake. 
Because after a few minutes, another paper hits you. It’s another heart, and you find that you don’t need to open it this time, the message scrawled on top for easier access. 
I’m sorry. 
Another paper flies over your fortress.
I’m sorry.
Then, another. 
Pls forgive me.
Then another. And another, and another, and another. 
Pls, I hate making you mad. I feel so gross and sad rn. I seriously can’t go a day without you. I miss you sm, pls :(((
You feel like you’re under attack— the way he continues to throw paper after paper is rhythmic and almost impressive, the endless stream of hearts covering your keyboard and forcing you to sweep them to the side after seconds. 
It’s useless to study. How can you, when Yeonjun keeps throwing his apologies at you? It’s stupid and childish and is enough for you to take your textbooks down, your jaw clenched and your eyes pointed in a sharp glare that has Yeonjun pausing in his actions. 
There’s a small pile of hearts next to him. 
Neither of you move— he’s frozen mid-throw, his eyes widening as though he can’t grasp the fact that you’re actually looking at him— even if it’s filled with rage and annoyance. 
Slowly, the corners of his lips curl up— you can’t find it in you to react as he throws the paper in his hands, feeling the way it smacks right onto your forehead before it falls to the table. 
Can I show u how sorry I am??
You don’t seem to think of the consequences as you reach for your bag in the seat next to you— devoid of anything except a few pencils and your hoodie— and throw it at him, watching the way he yelps in surprise, your bag spilling out it’s few contents all over the floor. The sound is enough to have the people around you glancing at your table, curious or angry at the sound of the ruckus. 
You’re worked up and huffing as you watch Yeonjun scramble to gather the spilled contents of your bag, watching as he stutters out whispered apologies between his actions. 
“Excuse me,” the hand on your shoulder is firm as you twist your head to look at the librarian, your expression falling at the realization of what you’ve just done. 
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 
Whipping your head around, you meet eyes with a sheepish and guilty Yeonjun, gritting your teeth as he holds out your bag for you to take. 
Wordlessly, you snatch it from him, shoving your computer and the rest of your items into it before you’re turning around to face the librarian; you whisper out a soft “I’m so sorry” as you bow in apology, waiting for her to leave before you’re facing Yeonjun again. 
I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, he mouths to you, though you ignore it all as you choose to whack his shoulder with your very-full bag instead; the pained whimper he lets out has you gritting your teeth in irritation, watching the way he pouts up at you as he rubs his arm pathetically. 
“Don’t pull this shit again,” you hiss out, storming off before he can get another word out. 
There goes all his progress. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
WEDNESDAY
Today has been an oddly nice day.
It’s nice— too nice, you wonder, pondering what may be different enough to have you walking with a smile on your face, appreciating the beautiful weather in a light mood. 
A guy your age is leaning against a tree up ahead. He holds a bouquet of roses, and you smile at the way he seems to be passing one out to every person that passes him. That’s so sweet, you think to yourself, and you can’t help the way your stomach twists in anticipation the moment his eyes meet yours. 
“Would you like a rose?” he asks you, his blond hair shining under the sunlight as he sends you a bright smile— you don’t hesitate to say yes, taking the flower from him with a cute thank you! 
The flower is in full bloom as you twirl it between your fingers absentmindedly. The smile on your face is seemingly permanent as you make your way to your favorite cafe, though as you think back to the interaction, you can’t help but wonder if you know that man from somewhere.
It isn’t until you stop at a crosswalk that you notice it— there’s a tag on the rose, and though you initially thought it was just a price tag, you realize that it’s something else; pausing before you cross the street, you take a moment to tilt your head and read it, feeling your jaw drop as your brain registers the words in disbelief. 
Yeonjun says he’s sorry.
“What the fuck,” you mutter to yourself, ripping it off without hesitation and shoving it into your pocket— you definietly recognize the man from earlier, you realize— that was Hueningkai!
You roll your eyes at Yeonjun’s weak ploy to talk to you— you can’t help the way it leaves you irritated as you stand in line to order, trying your best to recite your regular order to the barista with a smile on your face, the man before you giving you a dimpled smile before he’s off to make it.
By the time you get your order, you’ve calmed down— you’re quick to exit and make your way back towards campus, using this small break between classes to study again. (without Yeonjun around, hopefully.) 
Your fingers are absentminded as you trace over the printed sticker on the side of the cup that has your order printed on it, glancing down at the text before you take another sip. 
Yeonjun is really sorry.
…What? 
You were more unnerved than anything. The lengths Yeonjun had gone through to communicate almost concerned you, though all you could do at this point was rip the sticker off and shove it in your pocket, ignoring it like the other one. You wracked your mind for answers as you began to wonder if you had seen that barista anywhere else, and after a moment, you settled on the vague conclusion that you think you’ve seen him in Yeonjun’s frat house before. 
He’s so annoying, you sigh to yourself, rubbing at your temples as you fear an upcoming headache. 
You’re startled back to life at the sight of a puppy running up to you— you’re frowning at the sight, unsure of what to do as it stops right at your feet, jumping up on you and barking excitedly— almost like it recognized you— squinting, you observe the dog. 
Oh god, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you do recognize this damn dog.
“Matcha, who let you out,” you huff, leaning down to scoop the tiny dog into your arms— in the distance, you can see someone running in your direction, though you choose to ignore it as you notice Matcha’s brand new collar. 
Yeonjun misses you more than anything. 
The words are wrapped around his collar, leaving you to throw your head back and groan at the sight; the footsteps are much louder than before, and you’re looking forward again as you spot yet another familiar face. 
“Beomgyu,” you sneer, shoving Matcha into his awaiting hands. All he can do is laugh sheepishly, muttering out what a coincidence! Petting Matcha, he pauses, giving you an expectant look that only leaves you confused.
“Could you forgive him?”
“Go away!” you say in return, weaving out of his way and practically running off to the library; you can hear Matcha barking at you, though you choose to ignore it as Beomgyu’s calls of your name fuel you further. 
You feel out of breath by the time you finally enter the library, finding the nearest help desk and beginning to rummage through your bag for any books you need renewed— the librarian simply smiles at you patiently as he waits, adjusting his glasses before he quickly turns around to get something— by the time he’s back, you’ve laid out your books for him, thanking him quietly as you watch him renew them quickly.
When he slides them back towards you, you frown— there’s a bookmark on top of your small stack of books, laminated and shiny under the lights as you pick it up to get rid of the glare— reading it, you can already feel the need to tear it, though it seems as this cheeky worker is already one step ahead of you. 
Yeonjun just wants to talk to you again.
Three ways to better communication in a relationship:
The glare you send the worker— Taehyun, his name tag reads— is lethal, though he doesn’t seem to be affected by it as he simply sends you an innocent smile. Without another word, you gather your books, shoving them into your bag as you turn to leave.
“Ignoring him won’t solve anything,” he calls out quietly, though you don’t seem to appreciate the advice by the way you don’t even bother to turn back and react. Instead, you walk right back out, storming home as you type on your phone furiously. 
my baby :((
stop using others to relay messages damn it!!!
my baby :((
and don’t use matcha against me you loser!!!!!!
Through his end, Yeonjun is just happy that you’re texting him— though, the mean name is not much appreciated. 
Choi Yeonjun. 
can you pls let me talk to you instead?
You don’t bother opening the notification. 
That was your third mistake.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
THURSDAY
Today has been relatively peaceful. You have yet to be bothered today— no Yeonjun, no Matcha, and certainly none of his friends. 
Maybe because he was aware of your plans today; you did tell him a while ago about your reunion with one of your friends, always chatting his ear off about how excited you were to finally see her again—it slightly warms your heart to know that he actually listens to you.
Well. Most of the time. 
“You’re fighting right now?” Tzuyu asks, leaning forward in her seat with wide eyes. You didn’t expect this sudden change of topic, but you can only nod grimly in response, watching as she sighs in dismay at your situation. 
“Wow, you guys never fight— at least, not to this level,” she’s deep in thought over your relationship as she frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares down at her empty plate— you both chose to forgo dessert, and now you wait patiently for your check.
“Well, what are you guys even fighting about?” 
“It’s just—“ you’re cut off by your server placing the check in between the two of you, thanking him with a smile on your face before you’re freezing; you’re unsure of what to make of the plate that he places before you, stuttering out unintelligible sentences that you didn’t order… whatever this was. 
“Free of charge,” the man says, before bowing politely and scurrying away; you’re barely able to get a word out before you huff in defeat, looking back at the treat in front of you as you take in Tzuyu’s amused laughter.
“What?” you ask, frowning as you watch her turn the plate towards you— you’re left a bit speechless by what you see, mouth falling open as your brain attempts to comprehend how you should react to this. 
It’s dessert— well, more specifically, three full scoops of ice cream, the caramel drizzle and other toppings decorating it to make it look like a cat; more specifically, a sad cat. All along the plate, more caramel drizzle decorates it to form a sentence. 
I miss you. Please, talk to me. YJ. 
Your head snaps up in the direction the waiter went in; looking out the small window of the kitchen door, you spot none other than Yeonjun, his eyes widening before he’s ducking out of the way like a deer in headlights. 
“How the fuck did he get back there?!” you cry out, running a hand down your face in disbelief— but no, one more glance back in his direction is enough to catch him peeking at you again, flinching in surprise before he’s ducking out of your sight once more. 
“Who let him in there?” you hiss, placing your head in your hands as Tzuyu merely laughs; you ignore the way she begins to dig into the dessert after you express that you won’t touch it, humming happily that it was a sweet gesture. 
A moment’s thought is able to remind you where you are— in Beomgyu’s older brother’s restaurant, of course. 
Defeatedly, you open the checkbook to offer to pay— though the price has your eyes practically bulging out, reading and re-reading the strange excuse of a check this waiter has brought to you. 
Your meal was free. 
The only thing you read on the paper was a poor excuse of Yeonjun replacing the food items with “i miss you”s and “i’m sorry”s, the sight baffling you as Tzuyu turns the check towards her in curiosity. 
“Interesting,” she hums, closing the checkbook before she’s fishing for tip money, “Are you sure you wanna lose a guy like him?”
You take a second to think her question through. 
Yet another mistake on your part. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
FRIDAY
Remembering what happened today is enough to have your head hurting— so, you’ll keep it short.
You were working— working, minding your own business, prey to unsuspecting events— when it happened. 
Fridays were always rush days. Maybe that’s why you didn’t think to pay attention to your surroundings, to the blasting music, the yell of your coworkers calling out drinks and names, or to the endless chatter of the customers around you. 
You should have paid attention— maybe, if you did, you would’ve been able to spare yourself the embarrassment— another mistake of yours, if you will. 
The break of music from the radio was not what caught your attention— radio hosts do it all the time, speaking in between songs with useless chatter as they find a song to play next— no, what did catch your attention, however, was the eerily familiar voice, and worse, the eerily familiar message he broadcasted all over your local station. 
“This next song is called Seven,” he spoke, smooth, suave, and relaxing as the track rolled in quietly in the background, “a song about a man more than willing to show how devoted he is to his to his partner— ___, come home, the kids miss you— well, more like Matcha, but still.”
You could feel your coworkers freeze around you. You could feel their gazes slowly drift to you, could feel the way customers got a good look at the decorated name tag you once showed off proudly. 
“Is— is he…?” your coworker whispered beside you, watching the way you caved into yourself in attempts to hide your nametag, “is he that frat boy you were talking about?”
“No.” you say, avoiding everyone’s gaze as you focus on making your drink instead, “No. That’s not him. This isn’t about me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“___, I’ll keep waiting for you patiently. Have a good shift today.” 
Christ!
Your coworkers could only laugh lightheartedly at his words— they found it cute, which was even worse for you, because all you could wonder was how the fuck he was able to get into the broadcast station— this time, you seriously couldn’t figure out any ties between him and the place. 
“Looks like he won’t give up,” to say you were horrified at the way a customer told you this was an understatement, her eyes alight with amusement as she spoke to you with a tone so genuine you almost thought she was in on it— fuck, maybe she was— “if anything, you should turn him down soon before he goes too far.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out, tired of these constant antics as you thought over her words, forced to go through the rest of your shift pretending as though Yeonjun hadn’t broadcasted his pleading message to the whole city— well, more like anyone who was listening to the local radio station willingly.
You feel like you’re on The Truman Show, or something.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
SATURDAY
You were scared to talk to Yeonjun. 
Scared— why were you scared? You don’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to send him a text message, pacing around your room like an idiot instead as you wondered what you would tell him. 
Would you talk? Would you finally break up with him?
The way your stomach sank with dread at the mere thought of the second option was enough of an answer for you— no, you shouldn’t break up with him.
However, it was storming today— there was no way in hell you would be going outside to meet him in such weather, so you opted to psych yourself up to send him a text message asking to meet up instead.
You were pacing around your room again when you noticed it. 
There’s a bright umbrella outside— shit, you recognize that umbrella, you realize with a heavy dread, walking up to your window and pulling your curtains open as you stare out in dismay.
Why the fuck is Yeonjun outside right now?
It’s perfect timing, the way his umbrella raises to show his figure; oh my god, you think to yourself, biting your lip as you take his expression in, he’s crying!
This was not your intention. You never meant to hurt Yeonjun like this, but you also were not ready to see him yet— so, with a slight pang in your heart, you shut the curtains again, leaving just enough of a crack to make sure that he’ll leave.
Instead, he stayed there. In true Yeonjun fashion, squinting up at your window in hopes that you’d at least tell him to go away. Instead, he watched as you peeked through the crack of the curtains, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you thought you were being discreet with your actions. 
Slowly, Yeonjun turns his phone to you; there’s writing flashing by in his phone, though you have to squint your eyes and wait for the whole sentence to roll by to see what he’s trying to tell you now. 
I know you don’t… want to see me… right now but I … seriously just need… to know what I … did wrong. 
God. Fuck. This whole “ghosting” ordeal was harder than it should be when someone like Yeonjun was involved. 
 It’s been like… a week and you… still haven’t talked… to me.
Oh, the guilt is seriously eating you up right now. You weren’t supposed to ignore him for days on end, but each time Yeonjun reached out for you, you couldn’t control the way you ran away in return, still hurt by the things he didn’t even realize he did.
You’ve finally gotten a good grasp of his obliviousness.
I’m sorry… I love you… I love you… I love you…
Only three words are rolling by on his phone now. You think you’ve gotten the gist of what he’s trying to tell you as you sink to the floor, out of sight and exasperated as you reach for your phone to make a call. 
“Hello?”
“Please come get Yeonjun. He’s outside my apartment in the freezing rain.”
“Uhm, let him in then?”
“I— I can’t,” you mutter sheepishly as you feel your face heating up, your stomach sinking as you hear Beomgyu scoffing on the other side of the line, “I don’t want to talk to him right now. Not like this.”
“Then I guess he’ll stay out in the freezing rain.” 
“He’ll get sick!” you say, and it’s only now that you feel stupid for this push and pull you’ve created, “please. I’m begging you.” 
“You need to talk to him.”
“I want to. I will.” you say, placing a hand on your forehead as you sigh, “Tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” 
A pause. Then, you hear rustling, and the sounds of Beomgyu grumbling quietly to himself.
“I’ll go get him,” he says, and you can feel yourself sink further against the wall in relief, “you better not back out on your word, okay?”
“Okay.” 
You hope you’re not making a mistake. 
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
SUNDAY
This is awkward. You feel awkward. You probably look awkward, too. 
Yeonjun, for once, looks just as awkward and tense before you. His whole body is rigid as he sits on your couch, feeling more like a stranger in your home than the man you’ve spent the past few months with, the way his eyes wander around making you feel like it’s his first time here. 
“Yeonjun,” you sigh out, catching his attention as his eyes zero in on you immediately; you feel nervous under his gaze, unsure of what to say as your brain begins to stutter, your mouth opening and closing in hopes that a proper sentence will come out.
“What did I do wrong?” he cries out, snapping you out of your troubled reverie as your eyes meet his— they’re glossy, and you’re afraid he might just start crying again if you look away, “can we start there?”
“You— you seriously don’t know?” you ask, bewildered by his question as you sit back on your couch— Yeonjun simply shakes his head reverently in response, and you’re blinking owlishly at him as you stare at him in disbelief. 
“We didn’t have any arguments before this,” he says, nibbling on his lip as he thinks back to the moment you yelled at him, tearing his arm off you as he attempted to keep you from running away, “You just snapped at me then disappeared— I, I want to know what I did wrong, at least.”
“Yeonjun you—“ you’re dragging a hand down your cheek as you clench your jaw, taking a second to breathe to not snap at him again, “that’s the problem, you’re just so— so oblivious, I seriously thought you’d be able to put two and two together by now!” 
Oh, oh this is embarrassing; you should not be getting worked up right now, your hands immediately coming up to hide your face as you hear Yeonjun cooing out your name softly— he’s next to you at the speed of light, attempting to take your hands away as he quietly tells you to breathe in his stupid, calming voice. 
“You’re always at those stupid parties, you stupid frat boy—“ you’re stuttering through your sentences, the heat in your face humiliating as you feel your emotions finally tumbling down, “and I know I told you I’m okay with it— I am, I really am— but what I’m not okay with is how fucking flirty you are!”
You can feel Yeonjun’s hands stiffen; slowly, his mouth drops in shock, his face beginning to pale as he realizes just why you’re mad at him. 
“I’ve told you— time, and time again— that, that I don’t like when you feed into people like that, that you never reject advances and tell them that you have a fucking girlfriend,” you know he never means it in a harmful way. You know that, nine times out of ten, Yeonjun doesn’t even realize those advances are happening, but it’s always just as painful to watch, knowing that charming attitude and cheeky voice is exactly how he got you, “and it just makes me feel so… so stupid and jealous and unwanted!” 
You feel out of breath by the time you finish. Though you remain silent and try to calm yourself, you instead begin to feel more anger festering inside you as you take in Yeonjun’s face, full of dread and realization as he begins to think back to how he was acting back at the frat party that caused this mess. 
Yeonjun was used to people acting the way they did around him. It never fazed him, and most of the time he simply followed along because he found it fun. No, he never thought of having anyone else but you, you’re his everything— though, he does realize how inconsiderate he’s been of your feelings now. 
“Baby, baby, I’m so sorry,” he says, his words genuine and filled with guilt as he cups your face gently, “I didn’t know.”
“Fuck!” Your response is unprecedented as you shake his hands off you, pushing him back and forcing him to lay across the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. He’s unable to do anything as he watches the way you throw your legs on each side of his waist, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and tugging him up as you sneer at him.
“That’s your problem, you just don’t know—!” pushing him back on the couch, he lets out a soft oof! unable to help the way his stomach swirls in anticipation of your next move, “You’re just too stupid, you don’t know anything unless someone spells it out for you!”
Shit. Yeonjun has never seen you like this, frustrated and restless as you shift above him, your eyes alight with rage as you begin tugging your hoodie over your head; his eyes widen comically at the action, shifting nervously under you as he realizes that oh, you’re not wearing a bra. 
“You’ve seriously left me wondering if you’re even taking this relationship seriously, it’s ridiculous!” Yeonjun feels like he’s been left on autopilot as he lets you tug him up again; he’s sitting up, hands hovering precariously as you glare at him, the sight enough to have him gulping nervously.
“I— I do,” he stutters out, watching as you send him an accusing look, “I do, I do I do, I take you so seriously, and fuck, I haven’t been thinking of anyone but you all week.” 
“Yeah?” you ask him, patronizing and unexpectedly mean as you look down at him, “You never fucking act like it.”
“Yes I do—!” he yells out, though it’s cut off by the way you sit down firmly in his lap, a hand threading into his hair and yanking at the roots as you tug his head back cruelly, “I’ve shown you this whole week just how much I think about you…” 
Yeonjun is hard. Painfully so, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get turned on so quickly— it’s enough to have you laughing breathily, tugging on his hair again and listening to the way he only lets out a high whine in response.
“What you’ve shown me this week,” you hiss, bringing him close to you, your lips grazing against his as you speak, “is that you’re a desperate bitch that doesn’t know how to be patient.”
“You were ignoring me,” he fights back, letting out a breathy wince at the way your grip tightens on his hair, “you’ve been so mean to me—!”
Yeonjun doesn’t get another word in on the matter. The way you bite his lip ruthlessly and sneak your tongue into his mouth has you feeling the way he practically turns to putty under you, his cheeks just as red as his lips as he gasps against your own, feeling the way you begin to grind against his cock without remorse. 
“Me? I’ve been mean to you?” you wonder out loud, hands running down his chest before you’re tugging his shirt up; you don’t bother taking it off as it rests against his chest, leaning him back and running your hands over his skin as you take in the way his stomach twitches in response. “do you know how many people think they’ve actually got a chance with you, all because you refuse to use common sense and say, oh, I’ve got a girlfriend!” 
Yeonjun shakes his head; there’s no way your words are true, especially when he’s literally obsessed with you. But of course, you’re always right— which is exactly why you’re fueled to rake your nails down his skin, leaving him to hiss and twitch at the feeling of your acrylics digging into his stomach and leaving bright, red scratch marks— acrylics he paid for because he thought they were pretty, the reminder only making his cock twitch pathetically. 
“There’s no one in this world that has a chance with me but you,” Yeonjun insists, pouting at the way you only scoff at his words, “I’ve never done anything to fuel other people’s strange fantasies.”
“God, you’re stupid,” you say, and Yeonjun thinks he must’ve lost his mind from the way he can feel a whine building up in his throat, “and to think I found that endearing.”
“You’re so mean,” he pouts— though he’s quick to regret it, letting out a loud cry as you begin grinding against him, able to feel the warmth of your pussy through the thin shorts you wear, your breast bouncing from the way your body begins to move. 
“You don’t like it?” You ask, tilting your head to watch as he merely shakes his head in response— all you can do is plant yourself to where you can feel his length pressed up against your slit, throbbing against you as you pout at him in false pity, “no you don’t like it, or no you do?”
“I— I…” he doesn’t know how to respond; it seems as though Yeonjun hasn’t figured out the response for himself, but you can feel it from the way his hips buck up into yours, stuttering and without rhythm as he remains defenseless under you. 
“You do like it,” you say, mocking at the way he only whimpers from the feeling of your nails digging into his hips, “Feels nice to be on the receiving end, baby?”
Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, this was strange and new and Yeonjun was definitely enjoying himself more than he thought he should, a melted pile of remorse and love as he pathetically waited for your next move, doe eyes staring up at you as he felt his mouth part, unable to say anything as he gave in to the mean look you sent him. 
“Been waiting patiently for me, hmm?” you ask him, thinking back to his earlier words as you watch him nod eagerly in confirmation, “So you bothering me every day of the week was you being patient?”
“I just wanted to talk,” Yeonjun whines out, chest heaving at the way you begin rolling your hips against his, your rhythm firm and dangerous as he feels weak moans leaving him like a stream, “but you— you kept avoiding me, I wanted to get some confirmation that you didn’t break up with me that day…!”
“Yeah?” you mock him, your voice just as whiny and breathy as his as you lean down to him; placing your hands on his chest, you tilt your head, grinding your cunt against him in a way that has him panting and looking for someplace to grab onto, “and did you get your answer?”
Yeonjun doesn’t even think he registered what you said. All he knows is that the way you’re sitting on him is genuinely cruel, especially with the way he hasn’t felt your body against his in so long. His mind is muddled and he can feel himself losing control from the way his hips begin to buck up, his brain going blank except for the thought that he hasn’t felt you against him in what seems like ages, his body so pent up with frustration that he can’t help but chase after the slight pleasure you offer him. 
Yeonjun’s mind has blanked out. You can see it in his face, the way it’s twisted with pleasure as he fails to respond to you, body bucking up into you so wildly that you have to steady yourself with two hands pressed firmly against his chest, your balance getting screwed over at his attempts to fuck up into you. 
The feeling of your warm hands is enough to bring Yeonjun back, eyes widening in realization as his eyes meet yours, clouded with so much need that it has Yeonjun slowing his pace immediately.
“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he stutters out, eyes widening at the way your cunt is practically leaking onto him— he can feel it through the layers of clothes, “wait wait wait, I’m so— ah, please— so… sososo close, baby, please…!”
“Wait?” you echo, brows furrowing as he nods frantically in response, “thought you didn’t like waiting?”
“No, please, please,” he whimpers, though his hips don’t stop their mindless rutting into your warm cunt, “please, don’t wanna come like this, wanna be inside you.”
“No?” you repeat, the mocking tone of your voice making his eyes screw shut, “why don’t you stop then? It’s all up to you.”
Oh, of course he can stop— though, that doesn’t mean he will, your hips slowly grinding against his as you watch the way his mouth falls open, not a sound falling past it before his hips buck up into you wildly— slowly, you feel a warmth spread beneath you, Yeonjun’s eyes screwed tightly as tears begin to peek from the corners. 
“Nooooo nonono, no, not like this,” he cried quietly to himself, ever the hypocrite as his hands fly to your waist, riding out his orgasm with loud, shameless moans. 
“Oh, my baby,” you say, pouting at the way he apologizes to you under his breath, “Is that it? Are you done now?”
“No, not done,” he’s quick to respond despite his rattled state of mind, looking up at you through bleary eyes. 
“No?” you hum, taking a moment to watch him carefully. 
“No,” he repeats, breathless as his grip tightens on your hips— even through the sensitivity, you can still feel his hips roll up into yours, quiet whimpers and whines leaving him as he does so— though, he can’t find it in himself to stop, at least not with the way he has yet to feel you around him. 
“God, this is so pitiful,” you say, frowning at the way Yeonjun struggles to sit up underneath you; you’re cupping his face as he looks up at you, teary eyes and flushed face unable to say anything as he simply leans into your touch— the way you coo softly has him pouting, and you can’t resist the urge to hover over his lips, teasing him with a smile as you brush over them, placing chaste kisses that only have him chasing you for more. 
“What a good bitch,” you hiss, feeling the way his hands have wandered up to play with your breasts, obsessed as always as his fingers tug and circle your nipples, eager to feel them harden under his touch, “doesn’t matter how many times you cum, hmm? Just need to make me feel good?”
“Yes, yes yes yes,” he babbles, wincing and moaning at the way your lips have begun to wander along his neck, nipping and sucking and leaving enough marks that a person could spot from far away with ease; the way your teeth sink into his skin practically has him crying, and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest the moment he feels you pause, your nose nuzzling into the spot behind his ear, your breath ticklish on his skin as you laugh. 
“Are you wearing my perfume, junie?” You mumble, hearing the way he can only whine in embarrassment; he doesn’t answer you, and you bite at his earlobe softly as you wait, silently demanding a response as his hands fall to your hips, gripping them pathetically as though his life depended on it. 
“I missed you,” he repeats, the words making you roll your eyes as your hand finds itself in his hair; you’re tugging at it, tilting his head and exposing his neck to you as you begin to nose along the column, closing your eyes to confirm if this is really your scent, “couldn’t smell you on my clothes anymore, love your scent s’much, ah…��
His neck has always been sensitive; that’s exactly why you choose to focus on it so much, not leaving until it’s covered with your marks and his tears have run down them, his soft sniffles making you glance up as you take him in, overstimulated and a mess as he bites his lip in an attempt to quiet himself.
“Too much, baby?” You coo, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back comfortingly, watching as he shakes his head adamantly, his wide eyes shiny and tear-filled as he looks up at you.
“No,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you towards him; his face is buried in your chest, and you can’t hold back the gasp you let out as his mouth immediately attaches itself to your breast, plump lips sucking at it as his tongue runs along it, messy and spit-filled as he looks back up at you, grinding you into him with weak whimpers, “want you to use me, you can do anything you want to me, just wanna please you.”
“Such a good boy for me, junie,” you say, his eyes fluttering close at your fond comment. “Are you gonna listen to me, for once?”
“I always listen to you,” he insists, and you feel irked by his words as you scoff.
“Like hell you do,” you sneer, easily angered as he shrinks down from your cold gaze, “Show me then— strip.”
Yeonjun is eager to listen, eager to please; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get undressed so quickly, kicking off his pants and throwing his shirt off in some random direction as he looks up at you expectantly, his cock a mess and already beginning to harden as your eyes fall to it.
“Hard already?” You muse, watching the way his cheeks blush red at your comment. Your hand is teasing as you wrap your fingers around his length, your perfect nails shining under the light as you slowly begin to move up and down, the cum from his previous orgasm guiding your movements as he begins to twitch under you, crying softly at the overstimulation. 
“Guess you weren’t lying,” you sigh out, finger swiping over his throbbing tip as you hear him yelp at the feeling, “just a cute body for me to use, hmm? You’re nothing but a dick for me to get myself off on?”
Yeonjun is mindlessly agreeing with you— your words are clearly affecting him, his cock leaking and throbbing in your hand, making a mess of it as his head falls back, throat displaying all the marks you left on him earlier like a trophy.
His head is snapping back up the moment you sink onto him. You’re warm, tight, and so fucking wet, his body jolting at the feeling of you clenching around him, taking him inch by inch as he feels the way your walls stretch to adjust to him.
“Fuck…” you hiss, your arousal practically dripping on him from how good he feels— “Yeonjun, shit.”
“Waiiittt, wait, oh god, no— don’t say my name like that, fuck,” Yeonjun begins moaning, your lips quirking into a smile as you watch his eyes screw shut, already knowing what’s coming from the way he holds onto you tighter, head buried into your chest as he tries to still your hips.
“Hmm? What’s wrong?” You ask, feigning innocence as you roll your hips into him, moaning dramatically as you do, “Oh, Yeonjun, Yeonjun— fuck, junie, you feel so good, feel so full…”
He’s shaking his head hopelessly; you know what you’re doing to him, and he feels pathetic by the way he loses his senses the more you sink onto him, his cock twitching in you uncontrollably as he warns you to stop, stop, stop before I…!
“This is embarrassing, Yeonjunie,” you pout, feeling the way a warmth spreads inside you the moment you sit on his hips snugly, feeling him bottomed out inside you as he attempts to muffle his sounds. His ears are bright red and he refuses to show you his face as he keeps you close to him, his arms still hugging you flush against him as you feel the valley of your breasts become wet with his tears. 
“Why are you crying, hmm?” You ask him, looking down to see the way he still hides his face, “You’ve already come twice, shouldn’t you be happy? You’re so easy, Yeonjunie.”
Your words are degrading, your voice cold as continue to mock him— and though you pretend otherwise, you can feel the way he ruts his hips into you with every mean comment, clearly enjoying himself more than he lets on as he lets out a broken cry against your skin. 
“Fuck, are you seriously getting off to this?” You snap, bored with pretending as though you don’t feel your boyfriend clinging to you tighter as you degrade him, “You’re such a fucking slut— you get off to anything, don’t you?”
The way you pull him away from your skin is sudden and rough, a soft yelp leaving him as he’s finally forced to face you, eyes fluttering open and meeting your own, your face twisted in annoyance as you look down at him.
“Acting like a bitch in heat, already came twice from nothing,” you grit, rolling your hips against his as you watch the way his eyes roll back— your other hand comes up to grip his cheeks, digging into the flesh and squeezing them together as he pouts at you, eyes welling with tears as he feels your nails dig into him.
“Don’t you feel bad? How am I supposed to get myself off if you can barely keep your dick up for more than a minute?” Your eyes darken at the way he simply lets out a pathetic sorry, ‘m so sorry baby, “What? I don’t think I heard you right.”
Your pussy feels so good around him; Yeonjun is barely able to think straight from the way you’ve begun to bounce on his cock ruthlessly, the sight of your breasts bouncing before him hypnotizing as you jerk his head back up to look at you, towering over him and demanding as you slow your hips to a mean grind.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whines out, his words incoherent and mushed together as you keep a hold of his face, listening as you hiss out for what? “‘M sorry for being so impatient— ah, ah, please— ngh, sorry for coming too soon, sorry for…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. He can’t find the ability to, distracted by the way your sounds have picked up, your fingers rubbing circles on your clit as you continue to use his cock like a toy; his cheeks feel sore as he stares at you with wide eyes, watching your face contort with pleasure, your rhythm become sloppy as you feel your legs getting tired. 
You didn’t think Yeonjun would pick up on it; without any warning, you find your back colliding against the couch, your eyes widening as you feel Yeonjun still settled in between your legs, cock still nestled deeply inside you; he’s still a pouty mess above you, hands gripping onto your hips as he begins rutting into you, his thrusts rough and out of control as he takes in your figure hungrily. 
“Sorry for making you feel unwanted,” Yeonjun babbles, feeling you throw your arms around his neck from the sudden confession, bringing him in close as you feel his face hover above your own, “I only want you, want you to use me and mark me so others know who I belong to, I’m all yours baby— please, please please please tell me you’re close, wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna make you feel good, missed you, missed this pussy, fuck, mmh, ugh, feel so good, so good, soso good, please, baby—“
Yeonjun thinks you’re something of an aphrodisiac to him; at least, that must be the explanation if he’s able to cum the moment he feels you unravel around him, unrestrained and addicted to the feeling as he listens to your pretty sounds, practically melting as he hears your voice purring under him— so good, fuck, you’re all mine Yeonjunie, all mine…
You don’t think you’ve ever felt Yeonjun cum this much— his cock continues to twitch and release inside you even after you’ve come down from your high, the man above you burying his head into the crook of your neck as he cries softly at the feeling, unable to help the way his hips buck forward to ride out his orgasm.
This shift in dynamic is new— but it’s addicting, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the way Yeonjun clings to you, his head hazy and needy for your comfort as he lays on top of you, uncaring of how heavy he may be as he wraps his strong arms around you. 
Missed you s’much baby, missed you, please don’t do that again, you could hear him mutter into your skin, a bit out of it as he peppered kisses along your collarbones.
“Alright, alright, I won’t,” you breathe out, running your fingers through his hair soothingly as he leans into your touch like a cat, “I’m sorry I kept running away from you.”
“But then again,” you trail off, tightening your grip on his hair teasingly, feeling the way he immediately whines softly, “you should’ve given me space when I asked you to. It was kinda cute, but don’t do that again— okay?”
“Okay. Of course. Whatever you say,” his response is immediate, not an ounce of hesitation as he stares at you with eyes shining with devotion. After a second, his lips part, and he’s hovering over you again as he looks down at you in wonder. 
“Does that mean we’re boyfriend-girlfriend again?”
You laugh.
“You idiot,” you coo, placing a soft kiss on his lips, unable to control your laugh as you do, “We didn’t stop being boyfriend-girlfriend. I was just mad at you.”
“Hmm. Then, can I eat you out?” His words have you freezing, looking at him in bewilderment as he simply smiles at you sheepishly, “To like. Show you how sorry I am.”
A pause. 
“…And, because I really missed eating you out.”
You sigh— and try not to show how eager you are as you nod softly. Yeonjun however, is shameless as he immediately pulls out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s sinking to his stomach— you’re gulping at the sight. 
“You’re insatiable.” Your comment doesn’t faze him— if anything, it makes him smile, his pretty eyes staring at you with enough adoration and love that you’re squirming slightly under him.
“For you, yeah.”
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
On Monday, the sight of Yeonjun on campus is enough to have you spinning on your heels and running in the opposite direction. He wears nothing but a thin tank top, wondering why you’re yelling at him to cover up the moment he answers your phone call. 
“Why? It’s hot outside— …and, like, I wanna show everyone who I belong to.”
(You refuse to stand by his side until he covers up—though, you can’t ignore the way his words send butterflies through your stomach.)
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obsesssedblerd · 3 months ago
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"Who's your new teacher?" (Part 3)
Synopsis: Toji takes Megumi to his doctor's appointment, and you, his teacher, hunt for a gift to give him.
Pairing: single dad! toji x f! reader
Contains: plenty of fluff, crack, megumi is four, tsumiki is seven, toji is still toji (but like he's soft for his kids and he takes care of them), reader is a preschool teacher, reader and toji are around the same age, protective toji, protective tsumiki, megumi being scared of doctors, mentions of shiu kong, everyone is happy bc i said so
part one here, part two here
a/n: here's part three! barely proofread. sorry for mistakes.
update: pt. 4 here
--- --- --- --- ---
Though Megumi said that he would be brave, Toji Fushiguro knew his baby all too well. In the waiting room of the doctor’s office, Megumi sat stiffly beside him, clinging his dog plushie way too tight—an obvious sign that he was scared. Toji’s heart aches within his chest, and once he finishes filling out the paperwork for him, he sets the clipboard aside and pulls the small boy onto his lap. “Megs, it’s okay, I promise. We won’t be here long, alright? No scary shots.”
His eyes fill with tears, and he buries his face into Toji’s shirt with a distressed whine. Tsumiki—who was sitting next to Shiu and playing a game on his phone to pass the time—immediately lifts her head once her ears register the sound of her little brother crying, and she hands Shiu his phone back before coming to stand in front of the two of them. Toji moves an arm so she can inch her way closer to Megumi.
“Don’t worry, Gumi, we’re here,” she coos softly as she wraps an arm around Megumi’s free side, so he was being comforted by her and Toji at the same time. “Me and Papa won’t leave you alone, okay? We’re right here. You can hold my hand the entire time.” 
A middle-aged man sitting across from them sighs loudly in annoyance, and Toji looks up in time to see him rolling his eyes at Megumi’s little sniffles. “Oh, c’mon, it’s not that big of a deal. Besides, boys don’t cry.”
The concern that Toji feels for his son is immediately replaced with sheer rage, his blood boiling as he squeezes his hand into a tight fist. He’s about to open his mouth to say something, but his seven year-old daughter beats him to it. Tsumiki whirls around angrily, meeting the asshole’s stare head on. “Nobody asked you, stupid head!!” She yells.
The man’s eyes go wide, the receptionist at the front desk gasps, and a few of the other patients in the waiting room either stifle a laugh or turn the other direction. The man looks at Toji, as if expecting him to intervene on his behalf and correct his daughter. Instead, he pats Tsumiki’s shoulder and stares at him with a small smirk. “You heard her,” he tells him, his voice dark with warning. “Stupid head.” 
He must’ve seen the utter violence in Toji’s eyes, because he chooses not to say anything else. Toji looks over to see Shiu giving Tsumiki a high-five. Then, Toji gives her shoulder a small, loving squeeze. “That’s my girl.” 
To his relief, Megumi—who had watched the exchange silently—had finished crying and was a little bit calmer. Though he’s done crying, Toji’s little blessing decides to remain in his lap, smiling up at his sister when she turns back around to hug him some more. He notices Megumi taking slower breaths, and holding up his little fingers to count the seconds as they go by. 
As he silently counts to himself, a memory from three weeks ago floods Toji’s mind. You, sitting on the ground next to Megumi, explaining a good tactic to calm himself down after crying and experiencing stress for too long. “Breathe in for four seconds,” you explained in a soft voice, holding up your fingers in front of him to count. “Then you’re going to hold for seven seconds, and finally, breathe out slowly to last eight seconds.” 
Now that he’s thinking of you, Toji smiles, wondering if it would be awkward or not to send you a message after Megumi’s appointment. Just what did you like to do after work?
“...What?!” You shout into the phone, your heart pounding as you pace back and forth in your living room. 
“Uh, sorry,” the store clerk on the other line says, gulping nervously around their words. “We’re unable to put this item on hold for you.” 
Your head is spinning. You think you’re about to throw up. Your eyes drift back to your laptop which displays the email announcing the special, limited edition of the dog plushie Megumi has—a bright white one, matching the dark-colored one that he kept with him all of the time. 
You subscribed to the brand’s website around a month ago, and had been keeping an eye out for it to drop so you could get one for him. Since it dropped this afternoon shortly after all of your students had gone home, you immediately knew that it would be the perfect gift after his doctor’s appointment. For the last three hours, you had been calling store after store, only to be met with disappointment when customer service revealed that they were completely sold out. It was a popular plushie, after all. You finally found a store that had the plushie in stock, but—
“How come you can’t put it on hold?!” You exclaimed. “I’ve never heard of something like this before!” 
“Um, well, since the plushie is a special edition item, they can’t be ordered from the store or put on hold, just so everyone has a chance to get one. It has to be fair.” 
You’re shoving your shoes on, using your shoulder to hold the phone to your ear as you grab your keys and purse. “Okay, how many are left?” 
“I believe just one. They sold out super fast today.” 
You didn’t care what had to happen. You were getting that damn plushie for Megumi. 
You thank every deity that you didn’t get pulled over, and that you didn’t get into an accident. You pull into the store’s parking lot, run out of your car, skip the cart, and go straight towards the toy section. The store is busy this evening, and that worries you. You hope that you’re not too late. When you reach the aisle where the plushie is supposed to be located, you skillfully maneuver your way through the crowd of parents and kids. You are a teacher, after all. 
You see the stand where the special edition plushie is supposed to be, and your heart sinks when you see that it’s completely empty. You groan as you walk down the next aisle of toys away from the crowd, reaching into your purse to grab your phone. Maybe there’s another store nearby, or even about thirty minutes away with at least three of them in stock. Maybe—
A brightly-colored package barely sticking out from underneath the rest of the stuffed animals in a large bin gets your attention. You shove your phone back into your purse, then dig into the bin, pulling out stuffed animal after stuffed animal until you reach it. You gasp, then pull out the last special edition dog plushie. Luckily for you, it’s not damaged. You squeal in victory, already excitedly imagining what little Megumi’s reaction is going to be like once you deliver it to him tomorrow. You check the price of it, and wince. Definitely a special item. You’re definitely going to have to dip into your savings account. 
It doesn’t matter. The smile on Gumi's face will be worth it. You know that much. 
As you’re transferring money from your savings account to your checking account, you hear footsteps approach the aisle you’re standing in. “Shiu, I’m telling ya, it’s supposed to be here, but it isn’t. You sure you called the right store? I swear, this shit-” You look up to see Toji, who comes to a complete stop once he sees you, his eyes widening in shock. 
Oh. 
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tags: @abadbitchblogs @koriisworld @queendessi24 @chosoyukisgf @blubearxy @starmapz @atomictrashcreator @levixbby @jjknanamin @roxytheimmortal @eternallyvenus @jup1tersuccubus
sorry if I missed anyone! I went based on the replies in the previous part. if you would like to be tagged for part 4, kindly let me know in the replies! this includes those who have been tagged previously! <3
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mintmatcha · 8 days ago
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OMG MINT please continue bc kiri saying again … was he picking up the pieces before w reader ??
cw: Reader is a high school in this part, reader is said to not be conventionally attractive.
Kirishima remembers the first time Sero ever saw you.
He's fumbling with his key ring in the most obvious way he can, letting it swing and jingle around his fingers.
"My parent's won't be back until late tonight, so we can do whatever." Kirishima isn't one to brag, but there's still something cool about being a latchkey kid. He doesn't have Bakugo's big house or all of Denki's gaming systems, but he's got the coolest hang out spot because he has all the privacy they could ever need.
"You bozos should actually study this time-" Bakugo says, slinging his backpack across his shoulders.
Denki groans. "You're so lame-"
"Your grades are lame!"
Kirishima unlocks the door to the apartment when another door across the hall opens. He doesn't turn at first, thinking it's just Mr. Yagami leaving for the night shift-
"Eijiro-"
Kirishima turns at the sound of your voice. Catty corner from him, you're halfway out of your apartment door, still dressed in your wrinkled school uniform. The smile you flash him is timid, mostly covered up the doorframe.
"Hold on, guys."
He walks over to you with a little wave and you produce a familiar set of containers, perfectly cleaned and polished, just like always.
"Tell your mom thank you," you mumble, adjusting your glasses as you speak. Kirishima thinks it's weird that you're being so quiet today, but then your eyes flicker to the group behind him. School's hard for you, he thinks, the other kids aren't very nice to you most of the time. At least, that's what his mom says when you aren't around.
"It was really good, thank you."
"Yeah, don't mention it," Kirishima points back to his gaggle of boys. "These are my friends from school, by the way. Bakugo, Denki, and the tall one's Sero. They're all really cool."
Your face goes weird when he says Sero's name. Not sour or stressed or something he knows, just... funny. Like you've swallowed a lemon whole.
"I'm the only cool one here," Bakugo says.
"Aw, don't listen to this big grump-" Sero throws an arm around Bakugo. "We're pretty okay."
"Hi." With a little wave, you duck back inside your place and let the door close. Kirishima starts to go back to his friends, but for Sero to stop him.
"So, who was that?" Sero asks, a bit too interested for Kirishima's liking. Bakugo bumps his shoulder into the dark haired boy, then shoves his full body weight. Even when Sero stumbles, he keeps looking.
"She's cool, just super shy. My mom gives her food sometimes." He shakes the Tupperware for effect. "She lives by herself because her school's around here."
"Ask her to hang out with us," Sero says.
Denki groans again. "Why would we want some weirdo girl-?"
Sero's already slunk across the hall. Bakugo and Denki share a look and roll their eyes; last summer's growth spurt didn't only give Sero a couple extra inches of height-- it gave him too much confidence and too strong of an interest in girls. Denki could kind of relate, minus the confidence. Thankfully, Bakugo didn't seem to care about women at all.
(Kirishima was thankful for that.)
The blondes both go inside the apartment when Kirishina opens the door, but Sero has already knocked and peeled you out of your shell.
"Hey, we were just thinking-"
That funny look comes over you again- a strained, sloppy smile, own that-
It clicks in Kirishima's head the second Sero leans against the doorframe, one arm extended above his head. You think he's cute.
You think he's very cute.
Sero seems to know it, too.
"I- uh- I-" You're fumbling each word. "I have cram school-"
"Aww-" He runs a hand through his hair with a cool little smile. "What a bummer."
Kirishima's stomach twists at bit, mostly on instinct. He doesn't have strong feelings towards you or anything, but he suddenly feels a surge of protectiveness, like an older sibling watching the younger get whisked away.
You're not even cute, Kirishima thinks, not in the ways that Sero usually goes for. He usually goes for girls without glasses or braces, the types that win beauty pageants and don't have stutters-
Flirting with you just seems... cruel in comparison. It's a game he knows he can win.
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freeabortionslol · 18 days ago
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Welcome Home (jack hughes x gf!reader)
summary: fluff! you've been studying abroad in France for the past three months, and your boyfriend jack plans a surprise welcome home party. he's deemed this night as the perfect time to tell you he loves you (feat. quinn hughes, luke hughes, nico hischier, jesper bratt, nicole laud, trevor zegras)
warnings!! cursing, glass breaking idk, trevor and nico being idiots
a/n just a short lil blurb bc I wanted to write for jack. had to give luke a bit of the spotlight bc I just love him sm
wc: 1.5k
“No no no! It’s not straight enough!” Jack yelled to his brother Quinn who was standing on a barstool placing a banner on the wall. “Move it up. No, not to the side! Move it up! Keep it straight!”
“Jack, it’s really difficult to do this while you’re screaming in my face!” Quinn yelled back, causing Jack to take a step away. “Let me remind you that you practically begged me to do this!”
“I did not beg you!”
“Yes you did! You said ‘Quinn we have to hang this banner up, but you’re so much better at doing it than I am’ when we all know that you’re just scared to stand on the stool!”
“I’m not scared!”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah!”
“Okay Hotshot, you get up here and do it then!” Jack kept his spot standing safely on the ground, keeping his stare on Quinn. “That's what I thought. Go run along.” Quinn shooed Jack away with his hand and continued trying to center the banner. Jack made his way through your apartment which was now crowded with your closest friends. You had been studying abroad in France for the past three months, and you were finally coming home to New York. Your boyfriend, Jack, thought it would be perfect to bring everyone you missed so much, right to your door. It was a surprise welcoming party of course, knowing Jack Hughes he had to add some flare. He hoped that when you caught sight of his grand gesture, you’d reward him with kisses and all the love your heart could hold. The two of you had been dating for five months now, and have yet to say “I love you” to each other. You both felt it and knew it, but you both had fear of rejection which stopped you. Jack had decided when he began planning this, that he would tell you right then and there. Everyone could tell how anxious he was trying to make everything perfect just for you. He paced around the living room, occasionally flipping his hat from backwards to forwards every couple seconds. He made his way to the kitchen and began straightening the bowls of snacks, making sure they were perfectly lined up with each other.
“She’s gonna love it, Jack. There’s no reason to stress.” He looked over his shoulder to see Jesper’s wife, Nicole, wearing a half-smile as she tried to comfort his nerves. Jack returned the smile, and relaxed his shoulders.
“Not his fault that he’s pussy whipped, babe. Even if he hasn’t had the pussy in three months. Jesper said with a hit to Jack’s back. His words earned a slap to the shoulder from his wife.
“He’s not whipped!” Her tone grew angry. “He’s in love.” Jack’s face tinted red as Jesper began to laugh at the sight of his teammate so flustered. He’d never heard it out loud from someone else, and he worried that Nicole somehow saw through him.
It was now ten minutes until you arrived. You were so sick of the airport and you never wanted to step foot into one again. The cab ride back to your apartment was your favorite part of the day. You got to sight see all of the familiar buildings you had missed so dearly. Sure, you loved living in France, but France didn’t have Jack Hughes. You thought you’d be going home to a quiet apartment where you’d read for a bit on the couch, and probably invite Jack over afterwards. Clueless and tired, you had no idea of the chaos that was currently unfolding in your one bedroom apartment in the city.
Everything was going perfectly according to Jack's plan, until Nico and Trevor started visually teaching a group of your girl friends one of Luke’s famous plays. The two of them stood near the kitchen island as they explained, trying to impress the women.
“So, I'm skating right here.” Trevor starts. “I got the puck with me, and then all of a sudden Luke comes swooshing in outta nowhere!” Nico tries to carry out Luke’s play, stepping in front of Trevor which results in him accidentally pushing Trevor into one of the snack bowls that rested on the counter. The glass bowl shattered on the ground in front of them, causing Jack's head to pop up from the living room. He frantically ran over to the kitchen after grabbing the broom for the closet. Nico and Trevor immediately began picking up the big chunks of broken glass while Jack brought over the broom. As he was just about to start sweeping the shards of glass and chips on the floor, he felt his phone buzz from his pocket.
You: hey lil jizzy finally made it to my apartment :)) come over whenever you want i’ll be here
“Shit! Y/n’s here!” Jack yelled out to everyone in the apartment. People began running into your bedroom, as Jack, Nico, Trevor, Jasper, Nicole, Quinn, and Luke frantically tried to clean up the place. Quinn looked up from the mess to see the banner he’d just hung starting to fall off the wall.
“Jack! The banner!” He shouted, causing Jack to whip his head at the wall.
“Fuck the banner! It’s go time!” Jack finished sweeping the broken pieces of glass into the dustpan, throwing it into the trash, and bolting towards your room. Nico and Trevor followed behind him. Quinn ran to where the banner was, but without a stool he wasn’t able to bring it down.
“I’ll get it! Just go!” Luke frantically yelled at him, watching as he turned out the lights of the apartment and raced to your room shutting the door behind him. Luke reached up to grab the banner, tugging it down, but one of the sides was snagged on something hanging on your wall. He anxiously tried pulling it down as he heard your keys jingle from the other side of the door. Luckily, he finally was able to snag it down, crumpling it up and throwing it on the ground. In this moment, Luke realized he had nowhere to run to, and he stayed frozen in your kitchen, unable to move. You walked in the door, earbuds in your ears with your eyes glued to your phone. You let out a sigh of relief as you dropped your luggage and turned on the lights to your apartment. You slowly put your earbuds into your pocket, feeling the refreshing air of your own home. You looked up from your phone to see Luke standing in your kitchen, jumping at the sight of him. You tilted your head slightly as you traveled closer to him, standing near your bedroom door while he was behind the island.
“Hey, Luke Hughes.” you said with a slight smile on your face. Luke sent you an awkward smile and a small wave. “What are you doing in my apartment?” Luke only rubbed the back of his neck, stepping on the crushed up banner below him hoping the people in your bedroom would save him. At his expense, they did not. Jack’s plan was to wait for you to open your bedroom door and then everyone would surprise you.
“I uhh..” Luke searched his mind for an excuse “I had to take a leak. Yeah. I had to piss a-and your place was the closest to me.” Your face grew confused as Luke was breaking down on the inside.
“You don’t have a key to my apartment.” You let out a confused laugh.
“I don’t?”
“No. You don’t.” You shook your head pursing your lips. “So unless this place was unlocked for three months-”
“SURPRISE!” Jack yelled and whipped open the door behind you, which caused a small scream to escape your lips. You looked into your bedroom to see all of your closest friends jumping up and down and laughing. Your smile grew wider in shock as Jack pulled you into a tight hug, everyone else scurrying out of the room. 
“I missed you so much. You have no idea.” He kissed the top of your head and rocked you back and forth. Feeling his arms around you for the first time in three months was indescribable. Being on the phone with him every night was nothing compared to being engulfed in the scent of his cologne. You felt tears bubbled up in your eyes as you were just so grateful that Jack was there with you.
“You did all of this for me?” You said pulling away from the hug, placing a hand on his cheek.
“Yeah, of course.” Jack grinned wide. “Cause, I love you.” Your eyes went wide as you tilted your head to the side.
“You WHAT?”
“I love you!” He shouted in your face, giggling through his words. You quickly pulled him in to place a soft kiss on his lips.
“I love you too, Jacky.” You giggled, your lips ghosting his as he pulled you back in.
The party carried on swiftly, unlike before. Jack teased Luke about his stupid excuse for why he was in your kitchen. You and Jack were sitting on the couch together. He was leaned against the arm while you laid against him, letting your hand fall to his. The two of you stole kisses from each other throughout the night, knowing you were just two people who loved each other reunited for, hopefully, the last time.
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lilgynt · 8 months ago
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my friends like invite him to go clubbing with us! i’m gonna club my brain in.
#personal#one i invited someone else already so im not gonna be like hey single friend lemme go off with whatever this dude is and leave you with#my friend you don’t know with her boyfriend#then that’s such a weird driving situation#like do we stick with the original game plan of having friends bf drive and then have that dude meet up or#do i have him pick me up and go pick up friend which insane to ask second hang out#ah!!!#and then it’s like well you’re only considering the second possibility bc you enjoy his company and wouldn’t mind him driving you home#which leads into like well. what is this.#cause yes we’ve been talking for like a few weeks#had a very nice date#talked about getting TESTED#is it like. are we. just talking are we hitting and quitting are we gonna be 🫣#which is like what do *i* want#which crazy enough! i actually really like this dude so i wouldn’t mind a relationship#but then it’s like okay. what if he doesn’t like me. or only wants sex. hnnnn#and now i’m embarrassed about everything like damn he fr saw me spam my insta im gonna kill my self#what’s the appropriate amount of time to respond to a message- not what’s the appropriate#to ignore than respond but what makes it seem like i’m not waiting by the phone#which novel experience outside of friendship#and i’m trying to logic myself out of it like hey. good experience whichever way this goes#you got some talking practice went on a proper date that wasn’t dennys that you half paid for after they explained their whole books plots#I CAN TALK MY LEGITMENT POLITICS AND BELIEFS.#experience. which great. doesn’t do anything the whole im fumbling feeling like at alll#this is mortifying and i hate it. like i cannot exaggerate it’s a little disgusting#oh and then okay he has the time and does go clubbing#I CSNT FUCKING DANCE.#and the WORST bit. is im kicking my feet and giggling when we’re talking like die!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i’m getting butterfly’s listening to the playlist he made me#regardless how this goes i am not doing this again this is way too stressful
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pathologicalreid · 3 months ago
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Could I request GN! Reader who is married to Spencer, and they have like a little bet that Spencer cant go a week without coffee? Mostly fluff, but maybe a lil angst bc Spencer gets sick going thru caffeine withdrawls? :D
running on empty | S.R.
spencer makes a bet to give up coffee for a week but ends up foregoing all caffeine
who? spencer reid x gn!reader category: fluff content warnings: caffeine withdrawal, spencer getting snippy, husband!spencer, teasing from the team word count: 871 a/n: a silly little one-shot for you my darling. part of me feels criminal making spencer go through any kind of withdrawal lmao. i hope you like this!!
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“He hasn’t been sleeping well,” you answered Derek’s question, looking over to where your husband was staring blankly at the files on his desk. For the past few weeks, Spencer’s nightly tossing and turning had increased tenfold.
Morgan chuckled from across the bullpen, “Maybe it’s all that coffee he’s been drinking.”
The suggestion likely wasn’t that far off, the heaps of sugar Spencer put in his coffee probably didn’t help his sleep schedule either
Putting her two cents in, Emily snorted, “Oh, come on. I’d challenge you to find a member of the BAU who doesn’t have some sort of caffeine dependency.”
Again, she probably had a point. There were at least two members of the BAU who wouldn’t entertain any conversation until they were at least halfway through their first cup of coffee. Spencer’s head snapped up, “I can go without coffee.”
You scoffed, “No, love, and that’s okay.”
“I can go without coffee, Y/N,” he told you seriously, “I’ll go a week without coffee.”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you leaned back in your chair and sighed, “Okay, a week without coffee.”
“What does he get in return for going a week without coffee?” Morgan teased, waggling his brows in your direction.
Whipping your head around, you narrowed your gaze at your co-worker, “It’s a secret guarded by the sanctity of our marriage, Derek,” you said pointedly.
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Emily had made an excellent point, there was a certain understanding among the Behavioral Analysis Unit that everyone was entirely dependent on caffeine. The issue was that Spencer had cut out all caffeine instead of just coffee.
The first night, he had fallen asleep rather quickly but had been a pain when you had to drag him out of bed in the morning. The second night, he was perfectly fine, but ever since he woke up this morning, he had woken up on the wrong side of the bed. Figuratively, of course. You had been the one to wake up on his side of the bed this morning.
You leaned against the kitchen counter with your coffee in hand, watching Spencer struggle to pay attention to the words in his book. “What about just a small cup?” You offered, opening one of the cabinets to find a daintier mug for him.
He cleared his throat before snapping his book shut and sliding it into his bag, “Nope, are you ready to go?” He asked, checking his watch to make sure you’d be able to catch the metro this morning.
Sighing despondently, you nodded, drinking the remainder of your coffee in one gulp before setting the mug in the dishwasher, “Yeah, just let me brush my teeth.”
In response, Spencer huffed, “Well, hurry up, I don’t want to be late.”
“Why are the Reid’s looking so put out this morning?” Derek asked when you arrived, holding a travel coffee thermos in his hand while raising his eyebrows curiously.
Shaking your head, you looked at the rest of the team holding their go-bags, the last place you wanted Spencer to be was in the realm of a stressed-out police chief, but the two of you grabbed your things and followed the team out.
Furrowing her brows, JJ eyed Spencer suspiciously, “You alright, Reid?”
“I’m fine,” he said, tapping his foot while you all waited for the elevator doors to close.
Discreetly, you moved your elbow and nudged him, trying to tell him to cool it without reprimanding him in the company of your team.
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Groaning, Spencer continued to flip through the filed in front of him, his caffeine withdrawal making it difficult for him to focus on anything pertaining to the case for more than a few minutes.
With the locals out of the room, you gently set a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “Hey, why don’t we take a break?”
“Leave me alone.” Spencer snapped, garnering the attention of everyone else in the conference room. A lead on the case had left you with Emily, Derek, and Rossi, the latter of whom sped out of the door so quickly you were surprised there wasn’t a puff of smoke in his wake.
Your lips parted, just as surprised as the rest of the team that Spencer had chosen to lash out at you of all people. Setting your jaw, you spun on your heels and marched down to the kitchenette to make him a cup of tea. Begrudgingly, you dropped the tea bag in a mug and grabbed a paper towel for him to set it on once the tea was steeped.
Back in the roundtable room, you set the tea in front of him, “I’m not drinking coffee this week,” he said.
“I know,” you sniped, “That’s why you’ve been acting so impertinent for the last two days.” In your periphery, you saw Morgan and Emily slowly backing out of the roundtable room, wanting to avoid any sort of marital blowout. “Drink the tea, wingnut,” you told him, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
His eyes flickered to the mug, obviously noting the tea bag string hanging from the side of the mug. “Wingnut?” He repeated quizzically.
Raising your eyebrows, you shrugged, “I call it like I see it.”
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