#Talked this through with Tau :]

[tbhshaped]

the way the riot made us think this was going to be a whole arc but it just ended up being a montage that lasted like 3 minutes max is absolutely CRIMINAL

[rifleseye]

Anatomy of a Microscope

I. Scope —

Perceptor’s scope has many different functions aside from the simple functionality of magnification. It functions as an Electron Microscope, laser imaging, and thermal imaging. His scope is directly connected to his nerve and optical net, functioning, essentially, as a third eye. He is able to disconnect it via connectors attached to his sensory net, however the process is arduous and requires nerve suppressants.

His scope is incredibly sensitive, similar to how an eyelid is, and is a No Touch Zone, no matter who you are.

II. Stabilizers —

The stabilizers on his forearms originally functioned as stabilizers for his scope. However after his near death experience he modified them so they could stabilize his entire arms. Functionally, his alt mode is useless for anyone else to use because of this. (Something he much prefers.)

Now, however, he completely removed their external component and they're stored entirely under his armor for internal manual control.

III. Tactile Sensors —

Perceptor has highly specialized tactile sensors in his fingers, meant for deconstructing the composition of any object on an atomic level. This was useful for when he was a metallurgist. Aside from his fingers, his crest is similarly sensitive. He can detect atmospheric changes, meant to circumvent any changes that might tamper with his scans due the atmosphere he’s in (or without.)

IV. Specialized Needles

—

The tips of Perceptor’s fingers can fold back revealing needles that also function as clippers. These were personal modifications he made when he acted as something of a medic for the Wreckers. He's kept these, and still uses them for particularly small specimens, though not as often.

V. Universal Emulator —

Perceptor has a universal emulator: what this means is that he has the unique ability of interfacing with any technology and acting as the admin of said tech. Hacking is very easy for him because of this, but he doesn't give it much use outside of situations that call for it. If removed his consciousness is transferred to it while his body remains dormant. As long as he isn't separated from his body for long he'll stay alive. After a certain point he’ll deteriorate and his body will slip into an irreversible coma. It acts as something of a secondary brain module, which is why he's able to consume so much information at once.

His emulator is located next to his fuel tank in his torso, think where the spleen would be in a human.

VI. Data Cables —

Modern microscopes, especially electron microscopes can connect to screens, and the data is often transferred to databases so other scientists can parse the information. I think it'd make sense that he'd have data cables. Before the war, microscopes were often paired up with computers because of this. There is often symbiotic relationships between microscopes and computers.

Like all Microscopes, Perceptor has data cables of his own. They're located under his backplates. He doesn't tend to use them much, however, as they have a strange interaction with his Universal Emulator.

Since his Emulator basically functions as a self preservation mechanic, when he hooks up to something with his cables an EMP is set off in. He has to go through a Process to sidestep the natural reaction and he doesn't like bothering with it. It wouldn't be that way if not for the early experiments Airies did when he was like Just Born, so it's more a result of The Horrors than his emulator.

Simultaneously, he cannot help but act as a sort of... trojan malware with them, uploading much of his own subroutines into whatever system he's connected to. This one is a direct result of his emulator.

VII. Weight Distribution System —

In order to counteract the weight of his scope and all that goes with it, he's got a complex system of weights and pullies throughout his body that, when in root mode, make his left side heavier (since his scope is on the right side) so he stays balanced, and when he transforms those weights even out.

[smileysuh]

camera man

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader 

🔮 preview. He’s this big, strong, business major and frat president- but right now, he’s putty in your hands… and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling extremely powerful from this.

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, cam girl reader, mentions of alcohol/drugs/porn, masturbation, use of sex toys, multiple reader orgasms, oral (both m/f recieving), blow job, pussy eating, overstim, multiple sex positions, dirty talk, praise, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.3k 

🍭 aus. Svt cam boy au, frat au, university au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. This is part 2 of a 3 part cam boy svt au. Each story can be read as a stand-alone, but exists within the same universe :) Wonwoo is April, Seungcheol is May, and Mingyu will be in June. The complete masterlist is here. 

Prologue:

It’s a generally unspoken secret amongst the frats and sororities at your university that some of the students within the ‘Greek system’ are a part of the adult entertainment camming industry. When notorious gaming streamer ‘No Face’ had made his debut in the more erotic style of video making, there had been whispers about Sigma Veta Tau’s Jeon Wonwoo being the man behind the mask. 

“I swear to God,” your friend Kelly says one night as you’re all watching Legally Blonde for the tenth time, “No Face had another cam show last night, and I’m like a hundred percent sure he was talking to someone behind the camera.”

“So?” you sigh.

“So… everyone knows Wonwoo has that new girlfriend! I would bet my scholarship that Wonwoo is No Face, and he and his girlfriend are into some weird in front of camera and behind the camera masturbation type of shit.” 

“If they are, that’s their own business,” you shrug. 

“I wonder how much money they make,” Kelly frowns. “Like… No Face is huge- I wonder if he makes like… thousands every month.”

Now your friend's words draw your attention. It’s one of those weird things, you’re aware of camboys and camgirls, aware of the porn industry and everything, of OnlyFans- but with so many easily accessible free porn sites, you’d forgotten that a lot of content creator’s have switched to behind paywall options in order to make actual income on their work.

“I heard he’s making over ten thousand a month,” another sorority sister pipes in. “There are rumours that Sigma Veta Tau’s frat president, you know, the business major one, supports the whole thing and helps with marketing and style and all sorts of stuff so that it’s more profitable.”

Your skin is prickling now… ten thousand a month? Just for… diddling yourself on camera? Wearing a mask would make you anonymous, and as a female, if you did a wig, it would be even better…

You shake your head at yourself, you can’t actually be considering this… can you? 

One:

It’s been about six months since you started camgirling, and it’s going alright. It had been a definite learning curve, as you don’t have some business major to talk you through the ropes, and unlike No Face, you didn’t start with a preexisting following from being a gaming streamer- no, it’s slow going, but sometimes with things like this, it just is what it is.

Being an anonymous camgirl doesn’t stop you from having fun though, and tonight, you’re with Kelly at a Sigma Veta Tau frat party. 

There had been talk about frat president Choi Seungcheol being a mastermind behind the possible camboy ring in this frat, notably No Face being the most famous, but you push that aside. You’ve been into Seungcheol since you first saw him, and, expertise or not, you’d do anything for a chance with him.

The two of you know each other in passing; you’re both in the ‘Greek system’ after all, so when you get to the party, you zero in on Cheol by the beer pong table.

He looks up as you approach, a smirk working its way onto his mouth. 

You’ve had near misses with this man, misses that you’ve since dwelled on incessantly.

There had been that time your sorority and his fraternity were doing a bake sale together, and the two of you had been stuck at the booth all day due to scheduling conflicts with other volunteers. The booth had been small, and there had been numerous moments of contact, you trailing your hand along his shoulders as you moved behind him to grab cupcakes, his hands on your hips to gently guide you out of his way so he could access the cash box-

Christmas had been interesting, with the two of you stuck under the mistletoe only to be interrupted by first-year Dino, who had come to warn Seungcheol that Hoshi and Seokmin had spiked the punch with LSD by accident- how had it been an accident, you might ask? Well, the jury is still out on that one.

Seungcheol is definitely your ‘maybe’ man, the man you maybe will kiss, the man you maybe will fuck, the man you maybe will fall for… if the situation allows it. 

“How are you doing?” Seungcheol says, immediately wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you in.

It’s a forward approach, but you don’t mind as you snuggle up to the big, muscular frat boy. 

“Doing good, you?” 

“Been drinking,” he notes, holding up his red solo cup for you. “Promise there’s no LSD in this one.”

You laugh, accepting the liquor. It’s a mixed drink, something strong, and now you know why Seungcheol is so relaxed. This is pure giggle juice, and if you’d had a whole cup of this, you’d be just as forward with Seungcheol as he’s being with you right now.

“What did you put in this?” you ask.

“I don’t know, Dino made it.” 

Sometimes you forget that Seungcheol is one of the older men here, and he’s the president, so he has a whole house of dudes ready to do anything he asks. It’s funny how often he picks on Dino, but at the same time, you know Seungcheol loves the kid and sees him like a little brother.

“Are you sure there’s no LSD in this, then?” you tease.

Seungcheol chuckles. “Dino’s more of a weed guy, and Vernon only sells the flower shit, which would be hard to hide in a drink, so you don’t have to worry.”

You love the inner workings of this community. Hoshi and Seokmin are the trouble makers with a thing for getting too messed up on alcohol or anything they can get their hands on. Seungkwan, their bitchy mother figure/younger cohort who always runs around with them, or with Vernon - the resident weed seller - even though Seungkwan is a total musical theater kid and hasn’t touched any drug in his entire life.

Then you have the likes of Jeonghan, Joshua, and Seungcheol, three of the older members, the business majors. Woozi and Wonwoo are more on the quiet end of the spectrum, avoiding parties. There are Jun and Minghao, who can have a crazy streak, but also prefer to seclude together rather than come to big gatherings. Mingyu and Dino are both just puppies, and they’re constantly running around and getting into trouble.

No, you love this frat, and regardless of the camboy rumours, you’re happy that they’re the brother frat to your sorority. 

You continue to sip on the drink, standing with Seungcheol while you watch Seokmin and Hoshi versus Jeonghan and Joshua in beer pong. It’s a riveting game, with all sorts of fake-outs, crying, screaming- Hoshi pretending to sip his drink, then doing a trick shot that fails, only for him to sprawl onto the floor in disappointment. Seokmin laughing at his teammate’s antics can probably be heard over the music throughout the whole house.

Jeonghan and Joshua end up winning, and the ‘evil twins’ - as some call them - celebrate accordingly with shots.

Seungcheol can only laugh, turning to look at you. “How’s that drink working out?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk, mister Choi?”

“Just a little tipsy, not drunk,” he smirks.

“And why would you want me to be tipsy?”

“So you’ll dance with me,” he admits, and for the first time, he actually looks kind of shy. This big, beefy, muscle-head businessman who always fills out his suits - or his blue jeans - is shy about asking you to dance… You couldn’t be more into him than you are in this moment.

“Cheol, you need to be more confident,” you tell him, grabbing his hand to lead him onto the dance floor.

“I am confident,” he argues. 

“Yeah? I don’t believe you.”

Seungcheol swallows thickly, and then he grabs the back of your neck. He tugs you to his chest, closing the distance between your mouths. You kiss him back eagerly, latching onto his plain white t-shirt as your tongues begin to clash deliciously. 

Seungcheol groans, his hand slipping from the small of your back to your ass, and you realize that maybe this man wasn’t being shy at all, maybe he just wanted your first kiss to feel right. After all, there have been so many near misses-

No, this is perfect, and you get lost in the taste of Seungcheol as he kisses you on the dance floor.

You don’t feel exposed even though you’re in a crowd like this- you know no one is paying attention to you, and you also know you’re not the only couple making out on the dance floor right now.

Your heart is racing when Seungcheol finally pulls away, and he looks down at you with a grin.

“My room?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

He grabs your hand, pulling you off the dance floor.

Your heart is still thundering as you follow him. He takes you up two flights of stairs, all the way to his back corner room. 

Lots of frat boys have double rooms that they share with others, but there’s a select handful that have solo lodging like Cheol’s.

You’ve never actually been in his room before- most of the frat boys keep their doors locked, and you’re shocked at the neon blue hue created by many panels of mood lighting along the walls. There’s a massive gaming station in the corner, a desk, a big bed- it looks like a room that suits Seungcheol, but there’s something about the aesthetic that’s throwing you off.

The neon blues are No Face’s colours- but you know Cheol is not No Face, he’s much too big to be the lean, thick anonymous gamer turned OnlyFans celebrity. 

“You good?” Seungcheol asks, closing the door behind you.

“Yeah, just never been in here before,” you lie, shaking your head as you grab Seungcheol again, pressing your lips to his desperately. 

He wraps you up in his large arms, leading you over to the bed. You fall onto the mattress as gracefully as gravity allows, looking up at Seungcheol.

His expression is one of complete lust, you can tell you’ve both been waiting for this for a while.

“Here,” you offer, undoing your jeans and lifting your hips so you can shimmy out of them.

He immediately grabs at the fabric, helping you tug it off. Next is your shirt, and you remove that too-

Then you notice Seungcheol staring at you, but his expression has shifted to one of confusion.

You look down and realize he’s staring at a faint birthmark on your inner thigh.

“Wait…” he shakes his head, “are you camgirl BabyDoll246?”

Two: 

Seungcheol’s whole world has stopped. Things had been a little fuzzy from drinking mixed booze for a couple of hours, but now, the world is extremely clear. He can’t stop looking at the mark on your thigh, the tiny mark- so small you could miss it, so small it would likely be insignificant in every scenario- except Seungcheol has been looking at that mark nearly every night for the better part of two months.

As someone involved with unofficial guidance in the camming industry, Seungcheol has made it his job to keep an eye out for competition… but at the same time, Seungcheol’s not about to watch all the male camboys. No, he’s taken to watching the girls, seeing what works, what doesn't-

And then he’d found anonymous, mask and wig-wearing camgirl BabyDoll246, and he’d become obsessed.

You… you can’t be camgirl BabyDoll246… except, it’s your mark, on your thigh- and now that Seungcheol thinks about it, other things are starting to fit too.

“Y/N,” Seungcheol repeats, “Are you camgirl BabyDoll246?”

“Cheol…”

“I’ve got so many business tips for you!” Seungcheol belts out, his grooming as a businessman taking over, without the aid of his usual charming lines, which are blurred by his tispy countenance. 

“What?” You blink up at him in confusion. “You’re not mad that I’m a camgirl?”

“Why would I be mad?” Seungcheol asks in shock. 

“Because, uh… well, some men are very controlling and protective over the girls they sleep with?”

“Some men need to grow some balls, and also, we haven’t slept together yet.”

“Which brings me back to the fact that I’m in my bra and panties on your bed, so are we doing this, or what?” You chuckle, but there’s a nervousness to it.

Seungcheol gets the impression that the whole camgirl thing is a touchy subject for you. Not many cam people are proud and loud about what they do for work, and Seungcheol knows it’s hard to face the judgment that comes with being an adult entertainer while also trying to get a university degree.

His mind is spinning, and Seungcheol does his best to push it all down.

He thinks maybe he’d had too much to drink earlier, and Seungcheol’s the kind of man who struggles to get hard when he’s been excessive with his alcohol consumption. But he’s not about to pass up this opportunity, not when his mouth still works.

The frat president sinks to his knees, hooking his fingers in your panties to remove them.

“Eat you out now, talk business another time, when I’m sober,” he promises.

“You’re not going to fuck me after eating me out?” you question.

Seungcheol would normally be open about his failings as a man, but now that he knows you’re camgirl BabyDoll246, he doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you. So instead, he tells you, “I don’t want to rush things,” then he pulls your core to his tongue.

You don’t question him further, your head lolling back, a whimper escaping you.

God, you sound even prettier in person, and it encourages Seungcheol to go harder, giving you everything his mouth has to give.

He’s watched you cum on toys of all sorts, and he’ll be damned if he can’t make you cum on his tongue. 

Three:

You can’t believe you’ve agreed to a ‘buisness meeting’ with Choi Seungcheol- but after he’d made you cum on his tongue three times, you hadn’t been in the mindset to argue with him about anything.

So here you are, after dinner on a Tuesday, walking through the nearly deserted library until you find the frat president in a far corner on his laptop.

Seungcheol waves you over, and he even stands to give you a lingering hug.

“Missed you,” he whispers, and if he didn’t sound so sincere, you might find it laughable.

By now, you’ve worked it out that Seungcheol is a major fanboy of yours. What had felt like a push-pull power dynamic ‘maybe’ relationship has been flipped on its head, and now, you’re acutely aware that you hold all of the cards. 

“I made a PowerPoint,” Seungcheol announces as you both sit down next to each other.

“What?”

He opens his laptop, and you find yourself staring at a Google Slides document with the apt title ‘BabyDoll246 - rebranding prospects for financial gain.’ In tiny font at the bottom, there’s a ‘by Choi Seungcheol’ note, and you find yourself laughing.

“You can’t be serious,” you tell him.

“Deadly serious,” he warns you. “Now, if I could have five minutes of your uninterrupted time, I can present this for you.” 

You sigh. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“I wanted to start my presentation today by discussing my qualifications,” Seungcheol announces - as if this is some sort of job interview - as he clicks the next slide. “Although I should be maintaining client and marketing manager anonymity, I need you to know that I’m the mastermind behind streamer No Face’s success on OnlyFans. I helped guide him into the world of adult content by keeping his brand simple and focused, which is what I can help you with too.”

He hits the next slide, but pauses momentarily.

“I also want you to know that I think it would be a lot easier for you to get big on OnlyFans because more men watch that kind of shit than women do.”

“Do you have the statistics on that?” you tease.

“In a recent study, OnlyFans estimated that seventy-nine percent of their monthly traffic came from male users, as opposed to twenty-one percent for female users.”

“Oh, you actually had the stats.” You blink at him in shock.

“I’m a business major, I come prepared,” he reminds you. “Anyways, there are a few avenues for growth when it comes to you. First, we need to get your brand narrowed down. I’ve noticed you switch a lot between masks and wigs and lighting, there’s no set mood or colour, which makes it hard for repeat watchers to realize it’s you and not one of the many other anonymous camgirls.”

You consider his words.

“So… you mean like No Face has his whole blue thing, and one mask, and that’s it- you always know it’s him,” you clarify.

“Exactly, you need to find your brand, and stick to it. You can mess around with outfits, but one mask, one wig or wig colour, and one lighting set up.”

“That could work,” you admit.

“I also think it would be interesting for you to have a…” he hits the next slide, which just says, “Camera man.” 

You laugh, but then you realize he’s being serious. “Cheol, this is camgirl stuff, it’s not real porn with a real director-”

“But a lot of male audiences like the whole ‘pov’ style of thing, and also, as a man… if I were your camera man, I could help direct you with things your audience would want to see.”

“Oh, so you’re my cameraman now?” you chuckle.

“I think it would help your platform. Not always camera man videos, but sometimes… I’ve also found it helps some cam performers to have a partner behind the camera, someone to talk to, to make the dirty talk more real.”

“Like Wonwoo and his girlfriend?”

“Wonwoo?” Seungcheol’s skin turns pink. “I never mentioned Wonwoo- Wonwoo’s not No Face-”

“Cheol, you don’t have to hide that Wonwoo is No Face, I’m pretty sure everyone knows.” You release a breath and look back down at his PowerPoint. “If I’m being honest, these aren’t the worst ideas in the world.” 

“Then think about it,” Seungcheol says. “You don’t have to agree to anything right now, but just… think about it.” 

Four:

You’ve taken some of Seungcheol’s suggestions to heart. Getting ready with a pink wig, a pink purge mask and pink lighting, you can’t help but think you might be ripping off No Face- but to be fair, Seungcheol had helped Wonwoo’s marketing, so you’re not stealing anyone’s ideas of Seungcheol’s the one who told you to do this.

If this whole thing works, then it works. You know Wonwoo’s not about to sue you for ‘copyright of camming aesthetics’ or something stupid, so you take a breath and turn the camera on, inspecting yourself on the screen. 

One of the good things about the mask is that you can just stare at yourself. There’s no awkward eye contact since no one can see your eyes… however, the mask and wig do get stuffy. 

Pushing the uncomfortable sensation aside, you relax against your bed.

You’ve worn a pink babydoll-style lingerie set, and when you spread your thighs, it shows off your crotchless panties.

“I’m so wet already,” you murmur, playing it up for the camera. In the back of your mind, you consider what you’d be saying if Seungcheol were with you right now, so you draw on that for inspiration. 

“I’ve been wanting you inside me,” you groan, reaching down to rub your clit. “Want to feel your tongue again, want to feel your thick fingers and your massive cock.”

You can see donations coming in, and you realize Seungcheol was onto something with upping your dirty talk game by being in the moment.

“My little fingers just aren’t enough,” you continue, pushing one inside of yourself. “Maybe I should add another.”

You continue teasing yourself and dirty-talking to the camera until you have enough donations, and then you reach for your vibrator. 

Thinking about Seungcheol is making you wetter than than ever before, and as you bring the toy to your clit, you know you’re not going to last long tonight.

You throw your head back, deciding to moan and whimper instead of dirty-talking further. You imagine it’s Seungcheol holding this toy to your clit- and thinking about that brings back the memory of him eating you out, which only makes you more turned on.

God, his tongue had felt so good that night- 

You’d gripped his hair, riding his face for the third orgasm, your chest heaving, heart racing, skin clammy from exhaustion. 

You get lost in the memory, the tension building in the pit of your stomach. Soon, you’re falling over the edge, your pussy clamping down on nothing while desperately aching for Seungcheol to be filling you up-

You ride out your orgasm, waves of pleasure surging through you with each wiggle of your hips.

Seungcheol’s voice swirls through your head, and as the show comes to an end, you realize you want to take him up on his offer.

Five:

It’s been all of ten minutes since you turned off your cam show, your wig is off, and you’re resting in bed just trying to collect yourself, when there’s a knock at your door.

“Uh… busy?!” you call, thinking it’s a sorority sister.

“It’s me.”

Seungcheol’s voice makes you sit up abruptly. “One second!”

You wrap a robe around your body, nearly falling on your face in an effort to hop off the bed. You unlock your door, opening it to find the business major standing there.

He looks disheveled, frantic even, and he immediately pushes into your room.

“You took my advice,” he says.

“Hmm?”

“I just watched your stream. All pink monochrome colours and aesthetics- of course you’d choose pink, fuck you look so good in pink.” Seungcheol is practically pacing in front of you, and you wrap your rope tighter around your naked body.

“Are you alright?” you ask.

“I got too caught up in drinking and business last time, I should have fucked you, but I didn’t, and you have no idea how much I’ve been regretting that.” 

You realize he’s still hung up on the night of the frat party, and you also realize maybe Seungcheol’s been thinking about you as much as you’ve been thinking about him. 

“I’m not used to this,” Seungcheol admits, taking a seat on your bed and running his hand through his hair. “I’m a business major, I’m supposed to keep a level head, but fuck- I found out  you were BabyDoll246 and I think it just made me feral.”

“You’re cute when you’re a fanboy,” you tease, sitting next to him.

Seungcheol groans, but he accepts it when you open your arms for him, and he cuddles close to your chest, breathing in heavily. You stroke his hair, giving him space to speak.

“I want you,” he says finally. “I want you so fucking bad. I offered the cameraman thing to be close to you, and I’ll still do that for you, I’ll help you with your brand, but- even before I knew you were BabyDoll246, I’ve been into you for months.”

“So why did you never make a move?”

“I’ve got a porn addiction,” he admits. “Well… maybe not an addiction. I’m pretty ingrained in the OnlyFans industry, not personally, but… I’m involved, and I know that can be rough on partnerships in this day and age-”

“So this situation is kind of perfect, huh?” you grin. “Can’t microcheat on me by watching porn if I’m the one you always want to watch.”

Seungcheol chuckles. “Guess that’s true.”

“What if you only like me because I’m BabyDoll246?” you joke.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “I’m going to simp for you so hard.”

“I think you already are,” you grin. “Making me cum three times on your tongue, not even fucking me yourself- how were the blue balls after that party?”

“So bad.”

“And how are they right now after watching my show?”

“Maybe you should take my pants off and see for yourself,” Seungcheol teases.

You stare at him for a moment, and then you sink to your knees next to the bed. You push open his thighs, hands reaching for his button and zipper.

“Shit,” Seungcheol cusses, letting out a shaky breath as you begin to tug his pants down. 

“Didn’t think I’d actually do it, did you?” you grin.

“I guess not,” he chuckles, swallowing thickly. “Are you sure about this?”

“I am, are you?”

Seungcheol nods. “Yeah, but uh… no pressure.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, and you pause to look up at him. “Seungcheol, you made me cum three times with your mouth, I think you deserve this in return.”

“I don’t uh… keep track like that,” he says shyly.

“Then don’t keep track. Sit back, relax, and let me do this.”

Seungcheol nods, watching you carefully as you hook your fingers in his underwear, tearing them down his legs.

God, he’s so thick. His shoulders are broad, his thighs are juicy, and his cock looks like something out of a fever dream, all hard and big-

He might have the biggest cock you’ve ever seen, and when you wrap your hand around the base, you realize you’re already practically drooling.

“Try not to choke,” Seungcheol says, and you flash a glare up at him.

“For someone who seems shy at points, you’re actually pretty cocky aren’t you?” 

“I mean…” he bites his lip, “I think I’ve got a lot to work with.”

You have no response to that, because it’s true. You simply shake your head, taking a breath before leaning forward.

You start by licking at his tip, teasing it while he groans above you. You like his sounds, and they prompt you to take more of him into your mouth. You continue to suckle on him, paying attention to the sensitive mushroom head.

Men always want more, they always want to see how much you can fit inside your mouth- so to start like this, well, it will tease Seungcheol and make him even more eager for you than he already is. 

His hand finds your hair, and he strokes you as you suck on him.

“Feels good,” he groans, shifting a little so he can lean back, his other hand now pressed against your mattress.

You moan a sound of affirmation, sinking down on him further.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol breathes. “You’re so good at this.”

You’re a glutton for praise, and you do your best to hollow your cheeks, moving up and down on his length.

When it comes to sexual activities, blow jobs aren’t usually at the top of your preference list, but there’s something about pleasuring this man- about hearing him come undone for you.

He’s this big, strong, business major and frat president- but right now, he’s putty in your hands… and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling extremely powerful from this. 

You’re practically slurping on him now, your mouth starting to make obscene sounds from the effort, and Seungcheol echoes the noises with groans and grunts of his own.

“Fuck, baby, I don’t want to cum from this.”

You pull off of him. “Then don’t cum?”

He lets out a shocked laugh. “It’s not that easy.”

“No?” You trail your tongue from his base to his tip. “Can’t control yourself?”

Seungcheol meets your gaze, and you see something harden in his eyes.

“No, I can’t.”

He grabs you suddenly, lifting you off the ground and tossing you onto the bed.

Then Seungcheol stands up, tearing off his shirt so he’s now naked for you. God, he’s so gorgeous- he’s all big and muscled and-

Seungcheol reaches down, opening your robe with one motion, and just like that, you’re both naked.

“Condoms?” Seungcheol asks.

“I’m protected, as long as you’re not some STI-riddled frat boy.”

“I’m clean,” he laughs.

“Me too.”

“So… you’re okay with this?”

“Stop talking and fuck me,” you whine, opening your thighs to expose yourself to him.

You’re wet already, and it’s not just from the orgasms you’d had on cam half an hour ago. No, you’re more turned on than you ever have been before, your pussy already practically aching for something- anything, to lessen the feeling of complete emptiness.

Seungcheol joins you on the bed, and your thighs wrap around his hips.

He presses his lips to yours eagerly, your tongues immediately clashing in a passionate dance.

Your hands grab his strong shoulders, and you love the feeling of your chests pressed together like this. Seungcheol moans, rutting his hips so he can grind down against your wet core.

The sensation of his hard cock teasing your clit has you whimpering, and the kiss deepens.

You’re eager for him, but just as you’d played around by making him wait when you sucked him off, it seems Seungcheol is intent on making you be patient as well.

God, each grind of his hips has your core tensing, your clit nearly throbbing with need.

“Seungcheol,” you whimper, breaking the kiss so you can gasp at the feeling. “Please-” 

His lips move down to your throat, and he teases your sweet spot there, making you moan even louder.

“Please!” you say again, with more force.

This time, Seungcheol does as you ask, his hand slipping between your bodies to grab the base of his cock. He lines himself up with your core, slowly sinking into you inch by inch.

You gasp at the stretch, loving the feeling of his big cock as it splits you open.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans. “So fucking tight.”

You can’t say anything in response, you can only writhe against your bed, your core finally appeased. The sensation of his thick length working every inch of your inner walls- it has you feeling dizzy already, and when he begins to thrust, your mind goes practically blank except for the pleasure that washes over you.

Seungcheol adjusts your thigh, spreading you open so he can sink even deeper. He hits every spot perfectly, and you feel feral as you lay there, taking everything he can give while moaning like a whore in heat.

“You look so good like this,” Seungcheol tells you, panting from the effort. “Could fuck you for hours.”

“Cheol- I’m sensitive!” you warn him.

“Came a few times on cam, but you can still take more, right?” He lets out a small laugh. “What would be the point if you can’t take more?”

“I can cum,” you tell him, nodding enthusiastically. “Just- don’t break me.”

“In one of your shows, you came five times, I think that’s your limit. You just came three times on your show tonight, so I think that gives me two to work with.” 

Your muscles clench at the idea of cumming two more times tonight, but you’re not about to argue with him, so instead you just whimper, “Please.” 

“Anything for you, baby.”

Seungcheol pulls out of you suddenly, and you look at him in confusion, only for his lips to wrap around your nipple. He gropes your other breast, and you can’t help but moan, tangling your fingers in his hair desperately. 

He gives your chest the attention it deserves, and then his mouth continues its descent.

Seungcheol is lying on the bed now, his hands adjusting your thighs so they’re braced over his shoulders. 

“Been thinking about eating this pussy every fucking day,” he tells you. 

“Me too,” you admit.

“Yeah? Bet you were thinking about it during your show earlier.”

“I was,” you whimper, wiggling against the bed, your clit stimulated from his breath alone.

“Guess I shouldn’t make you wait.”

Seungcheol dives in, not holding anything back as he pushes his tongue into your core, rubbing his nose against your clit at the same time.

Your thighs are already beginning to shake, and you grab at the bedding, trying to keep yourself anchored while your muscles begin to tense.

Neither of you needs to say anything else. It’s clear Seungcheol has a goal in mind, and he’s quickly approaching the finish line. There’s something so sexy about a man who’s messy while eating you out, a man who clearly enjoys himself and doesn’t hold anything back.

“Shit,” you whimper, feeling the build up as it begins to tingle through you.

Seungcheol groans against your core, turning his attention to your clit. At the same time he shifts so he can push two fingers into your wet pussy, crooking them so he can stimulate your g-spot.

“Just like that!” you cry out. “Don’t stop!”

Seungcheol has no intentions of stopping, and he works you all the way to your high. 

“Cumming!” you announce, core clamping down on his fingers as intense throbbing errupts through you. 

You know enough about Seungcheol from the last three times he made you cum with his mouth to know he’s not the type of man who stops the moment you orgasm. No, he’s the type to work you through it, to eat you out with even more vigour until your legs are shaking, your heart is racing, and you’re physically pushing him away.

You’re still sensitive from cumming on cam, so it takes very little for you to reach the point of being overstimulated.

One push to his head makes Seungcheol pull away, and he looks up at you.

You’re both breathing heavily, and you watch him lick his lips, his pupils blown as he stares at you.

“That was one of two,” he warns you, and you would find it comical that he’s keeping track like this if you weren’t so overwhelmed from that orgasm.

You open your arms, a wordless urging for him to join you again.

But Seungcheol doesn’t comply, instead, he moves to sit next to you, his back against your headboard.

“Come here,” he says softly, helping you up. You straddle him, and he guides you down onto his cock, which fills your still aching core deliciously.

You both groan from the sensation, and you simply cockwarm him while you get your bearings.

He begins to kiss you, soft kisses that tease your skin.

One of his hands begins to massage your breast, and you let out a sigh of pleasure, throwing your head back.

You grab at his shoulders to anchor yourself, beginning to circle your hips so you can feel how deep he is inside of you.

Seungcheol wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer, his lips now moving to your throat.

“You look so good like this,” he tells you, and your core throbs from his words. 

You take a breath, steadying yourself so you can begin to move.

Bouncing is effort, and you know you’re not going nearly as fast as Seuncgheol can go when it comes to fucking, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He lavishes on you, kissing your body, groping your breasts, all the while moaning, which turns you on even more. 

Soon, he’s grabbing your hips, helping you bounce on him. You love how fucking strong he is, the way his biceps bulge with effort.

There’s something so slow and sensual about this, for you to be on top but still controlled by him. It feels amazing, and you feel very close to Seungcheol. There’s no rush; it’s simply an enjoyment of each other, and it allows you to lose yourself in the feeling.

However, soon, you can’t help yourself.

Your hand reaches for your clit, and your entire pussy clenches around Seungcheol as you begin to rub your sensitive bud.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans, moving you faster on his cock.

“Want you to cum with me,” you whimper, eyes closed as you focus entirely on the feeling beginning to build inside of you again.

“Let me know when you’re close,” he tells you, continuing to bounce you on his cock. 

You give yourself grace to enjoy the build-up, there’s no pressure or time constraints, and soon, you’re nodding. “Okay, I’m almost there.” 

Seungcheol nods, and with one motion, he flips you onto your back so you’re in missionary again. Now he has full control, and Seungcheol begins to fuck you fast and hard. It’s a contrast to the slow way you’d been moving on top of him, and the new change of pace feels amazing.

You rub your clit even harder, your eyes clenching shut as you get closer and closer to the edge-

“Cheol!” you whimper.

“I’m almost there, too,” he tells you, panting against your throat.

“Fuck, fuck-” Your entire body tenses, and then you fall over the edge. Your pussy clamps down on Seungcheol like a vice and he groans deeply, signalling his own release as he fucks you through your shared high.

You’re both gasping, panting, and clutching each other desperately, with Seungcheol all but burying his face against your throat. You thread your fingers through his hair, holding him close as his motions start to slow.

The pleasure is surging through you, all the more amplified by the sensation of closeness with Seungcheol.

Soon, he comes to a stop, and you hold him tight, both of you just trying to catch your breath.

You feel Seungcheol swallow, and he pulls away from your neck, looking down at you. “That was amazing.”

“It was,” you agree, teasing your thumb across his cheekbone. “So… you’re my new cameraman.”

He chuckles. “Going to be hard to watch you do any solo things.”

“You’ll just fuck me right after, like this,” you say simply.

“Fuck, what a life.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you're interested in Wonwoo's chapter about No Face, find it here

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. Seungcheol has been learning your body, inside and out, and you love that he’s taken the time to understand what makes you tick.

cw/ tw.  Unprotected sex, cam show/ porn, dirty talk, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, cum kink, creampie kink, sexual catering to audience, use of vibrator toy, spanking, ‘pov’ video filming, Seungcheol is her mute fuck toy for the cam show, overstim, squirting, hand job, masturbation, edging, etc…   I petnames. (hers) baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.1k I teaser wc. 130

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been a few months of Seungcheol being your cameraman, and your streams have definitely improved.

It helps to have a businessman with a vision in your corner, and when he’s behind the camera, it’s especially helpful for your content. Seungcheol brings realism to everything, because you can almost act as if there’s no camera at all. It’s just you and Seungcheol, and that taste of reality has brought in a ton of new subscribers. 

He’s your official boyfriend now, but you know he’s been whipped for you from the start. Any man who’s willing to help their girlfriend succeed in the adult content industry is a bit of a simp, but you kind of love that about Seungcheol. In fact, you wouldn’t want it any other way.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.1k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

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[sixxels]

babydoll

frat!gojo x shy!fem reader !!

part 1 ! part 2 ! part 3 !

final !!

wc : 11.8k (haha)

disclaimer !! SMUT FINALLY. slight sukuna x reader, slow burn, fluff, angst/comfort, yearning satoru, whipped satoru, satoru is just so enamoured with reader omg. follows the ‘was i just a bet?’ premise!! reader is implied to wear very cutesy kinds of clothings and enjoys very girly and feminine things !!

the party was booming.

music thumped through the floors, bodies moved in rhythm, and laughter spilled from every room. lights danced across the walls in a kaleidoscope of red and gold, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you belonged. not because you fit in, but because gojo satoru made it feel like you did.

you were tucked into his side on a battered leather couch, sipping from a red cup that had long since gone flat. his hand rested on your knee, thumb brushing gentle arcs against your skin as he talked with someone from his econ class. you weren’t really listening to the conversation. you were too busy soaking it in, the way his laugh rumbled in his chest, the way he glanced at you every few seconds like you might disappear if he looked away too long.

occasionally he'd lean over and kiss your forehead, a gesture that was becoming pretty common for the two of you, never on the lips, but still just as sweet.

it felt real.

it felt safe.

until the front door slammed open like a gunshot.

you flinched.

the music didn’t stop, not right away. it dimmed only when the shouting started.

“yo,” someone jeered from the entryway, voice loud and slurred. “what the hell? no invite for us?”

you felt gojo go still beside you. his hand left your knee and curled into a fist as he stood, gaze narrowing.

a ripple of silence spread through the crowd as heads turned toward the intrusion.

there, standing under the dim porch light like a devil in designer, was sukuna.

his bleached pink hair was messy in that practiced way, a silver chain clinking around his neck. tattoos snaked up his arms, ink stark against skin, and his smug grin curled like smoke.

flanking him were a half-dozen beta tau guys, all posturing and laughing, like this was their turf too.

“great,” gojo muttered, barely audible over the silence. “this fucker.”

sukuna's eyes scanned over the crowd, smirking as he saw you. you didn't look, you just kept your head low.

“gojo,” came a new voice, toji, black shirt half-unbuttoned, eyes storm-dark as he pushed through the crowd. “you wanna tell me why beta scum is breathing our air?”

“relax, creatine,” sukuna sneered, lifting his chin. “didn’t know we needed permission to show up at some busted up house party.”

toji grinned, all teeth. “funny. you don’t need permission to show up, but you sure as hell need it to stay.”

sukuna took a step forward. “you trying to start something, fushiguro?”

“what if i am fuck face?”

the crowd shifted, some people backing away, others watching with wide eyes like it was a sport. tension coiled like a loaded spring.

suguru appeared beside toji, brows furrowed, calm but ready, putting a hand on toji’s massive arm. “this isn’t your scene, sukuna. you should leave.”

but sukuna only laughed. “you alpha boys always get soft when there’s girls around. is that what this is? a little date night for gojo and my left overs?”

your body tenses at that, shit, he saw you.

toji’s hand clenched at his side. “watch your mouth.”

“oh?” sukuna turned to him, smug and taunting. “don’t tell me you’re playing guard dog for her too. what, she making rounds through all the frats now?”

before anyone could move, toji closed the distance and shoved sukuna back a step.

“say it again.”

sukuna’s smirk turned feral. “you gonna hit me, asshole?”

toji leaned in, voice low and lethal. “i’ve been waiting to. since the day i watched you drag her out of the kappa mixer like a caveman.”

‘oh, so it was you.’ gojo thought, how did toji know that of all people?

that wiped the smile off sukuna’s face.

he straightened, eyes burning.

“she was mine.”

“no,” gojo said suddenly, voice cold and steady as he stepped between them. “she was never yours.”

sukuna turned to him, expression flickering.

and that’s when it happened.

he looked past gojo. past the crowd.

right at you.

it was like all the air got sucked out of the room.

his eyes, red and sharp like broken glass, locked onto yours, and for a second, you weren’t in the alpha phi house anymore. you were back in his car, staring at the dashboard while he screamed at you. back at that beta tau party, clutching your phone while he pulled you through the hallway like you were furniture. back in his room, being thrown around and told to strip. 'just take it and shut the fuck up.'

you froze.

heart in your throat. nails digging into your palms.

you hadn’t seen him in months, but just like that, the fear came flooding back.

like your body remembered before your mind did.

his mouth moved into something that might’ve passed as a smile to someone else. but you knew better. it wasn’t warmth, it was possession.

“hey, y/n… look at me.”

gojo’s hand touched your back. gentle. grounding.

you blinked.

he had moved back to you, eyes soft even as his jaw was tight. “you okay?”

you swallowed hard and nodded.

but your hands were shaking.

gojo turned back toward sukuna, something deadly in his voice now.

“don’t look at her. don’t talk about her. you don’t even think about her.”

sukuna rolled his eyes. “she’s not yours, dick head.”

“she’s not yours either,” gojo snapped. “and she never fucking will be.”

sukuna’s gaze darkened. “so this is the game now, huh? you’re playing boyfriend?"

gojo’s voice dropped an octave. “no. i’m being a decent person. and if you don’t walk out of here right now, i won’t stop toji from knocking your ass into next semester, regulations be damned.”

the tension was a wire about to snap.

sukuna looked around the room, at toji, suguru, the other frat boys who were closing in, all watching him like a lit fuse. he smiled.

sukuna’s eyes flicked from gojo to you.

that smirk didn’t fade, it sharpened.

“cute,” he sneered. “she’s hiding behind you now. bet you think you’re special.”

toji’s laugh was cold as he stepped into sukuna’s line of sight to obscure his vision of you. “nah, but i know you’re still a pathetic little bitch.”

the room snapped like a tensioned wire.

sukuna’s gaze shifted, deadly now, locking onto toji like a predator who’d just spotted something worth hunting.

“funny,” he said, stepping forward. “you still mad i fucked your girl, or should i say ex?”

toji didn’t respond. he just moved.

in a blur, he grabbed sukuna by the collar and slammed him into the wall. the entire party jolted as the drywall cracked.

“watch your mouth.”

“make me.”

the first punch landed with a crunch, toji’s fist slamming into sukuna’s jaw, hard enough to echo. sukuna staggered, then retaliated, kneeing toji in the ribs before throwing a savage right hook. the force sent toji stumbling into the snack table, knocking red cups and bowls everywhere.

and then it was on.

chaos detonated.

a beta tau brother lunged toward toji from the side, but suguru intercepted, grabbing the guy mid-charge and flipping him over the arm of the couch with a loud thud. another tried to tackle suguru from behind, but choso clotheslined him mid-run, beer bottle still in his other hand like a trophy. (🫦🫦🫦)

gojo’s head snapped around, eyes narrowing as the entire alpha phi living room turned into a war zone.

sukuna and toji were trading blows in the center like heavyweight fighters, each punch drawing blood or bruises. toji’s nose was bleeding now, and sukuna’s mouth was split, but neither was backing down. they circled like rabid dogs.

suguru shoved off another attacker, ducking a wild punch from a tattooed beta tau called shiu. “you guys came here to start shit?” he barked. “seriously? didn’t you get wrecked enough last semester?”

“you talk a lot for a guy who got benched half the season,” shiu hissed, lunging.

suguru cracked him across the cheek with a swift elbow, then ducked to avoid a flailing swing. “still scored higher than your gpa.”

in the corner, nanami had joined the dismay, elegant but deadly, blocking two punches like he’d done this before. “please refrain from bleeding on the rug,” he muttered, landing a clean, punishing jab to someone’s gut. “it’s antique.”

somewhere behind you, you heard glass shatter.

choso yelled something about the tv.

someone screamed “yo! get the baseball bat!—”

you flinched, ducking behind a tipped-over armchair. the room was spinning with bodies, noise, fists, and swearing.

you spotted itadori trying to pull guys apart. “dude, chill—CHILL!” he shouted, physically yanking a beta tau and alpha phi apart. “this is so not frat regulation!”

“frat regulation?” todo huffed, bear pawing someone across the chest. “those fuckers threw that out the window the second they stepped foot in here!”

meanwhile, gojo’s eyes stayed locked on sukuna.

he didn’t even flinch as someone swung at him, he ducked effortlessly, then shoved the guy aside, cutting through the disarray like gravity bent around him.

toji was on the defensive now, blood dripping from his temple. sukuna laughed, manic, high off adrenaline. “thought you were tough,” he goaded, grabbing toji by the hair and trying to knee him in the face.

gojo saw red. toji was his brother, and sukuna was playing dirty.

he moved.

sukuna didn’t even see him coming.

gojo grabbed him by the shoulder and ripped him away from toji, slamming him into the nearest wall so hard a picture frame fell.

“you want someone to fight?” gojo said, voice ice. “try me.”

sukuna spat blood. “finally.”

he lunged.

the two of them crashed into the coffee table, splinters and glass flying as gojo ducked the first blow and returned a brutal one to sukuna’s ribs. they rolled across the floor, fists slamming into flesh, grunts and swears flying.

gojo was everywhere, dodging, striking, blocking with clean precision. sukuna was wilder, bloodier, all rage and ego.

gojo’s knuckles were split. his lip was bleeding.

but he didn’t stop.

“dont even think about laying a hand on her you fucker,” he snarled, slamming sukuna’s head against the floorboards.

sukuna wheezed, grinning through the pain. “so that’s what this is? you fighting for your little toy? mad i fucked her first?”

gojo punched him in the gut.

“she’s not a toy,” he growled. “she’s a fucking person. and you treated her like fucking trash.”

sukuna tried to twist out of his grip, but gojo was faster. he pinned him down again, forearm to his throat.

“look at her,” he hissed. “go ahead. look at what you did.”

sukuna’s eyes flicked toward you.

you were crouched behind the chair still, shaking, pale, your eyes wide and glassy. you weren’t the same girl he’d dragged around like an accessory. you were trembling now, but not in the way he remembered. there was fear, yes.

but there was also disgust.

that finally did it.

sukuna’s grin cracked.

gojo leaned in close. “you don’t scare her anymore. you sicken her.”

the beta tau boys were pulling back now, dragging sukuna off gojo, yelling things about lawsuits and retaliation, but none of them had the stomach for a second round. their leader looked worse than he ever had, bloody, bruised, humiliated on the floor of a rival frat house.

and as gojo stood, breath ragged, fists still curled.

everyone saw the shift.

this wasn’t just a frat brawl anymore.

this was a line being drawn in blood.

suguru was the first to break the silence, glaring at sukuna and his lackies.

“come into our frat uninvited again and you’re getting put on a shirt.”

~

the beta tau boys scrambled out like rats, half-carrying sukuna, who kept swearing and spitting blood between gasps. one of them shouted something about calling their president. no one cared.

the front door slammed shut behind them.

silence fell like a dropped curtain.

a beer pong ball rolled slowly across the floor and bumped against someone’s shoe.

toji wiped his nose with the back of his hand, blood smearing across his cheek. he was breathing hard, leaning on the wall, chest heaving. suguru stood next to him, knuckles raw, eyes still hard. nanami had already pulled a tie from somewhere and was cinching it around someone’s arm like a tourniquet. choso was picking glass out of his palm and mumbling about his jacket.

“well,” todo grunted, brushing off his shirt. “that escalated.”

gojo didn’t move at first.

he stood in the center of the room, shoulders tense, hands still curled into fists. his lip was bleeding, and one eye was already starting to bruise. he looked like he was barely holding himself together.

until he saw you.

you were still crouched behind the armchair, arms wrapped around yourself, eyes wet.

gojo’s expression cracked.

he crossed the room in three long strides, dropping to his knees in front of you. “hey,” he said softly, voice rough from screaming at sukuna. “sweet girl, you okay?”

you nodded before you even thought about it, but your eyes were trembling.

“look at me.” his hand cupped your face, gentle even though his fingers were scraped raw. “you’re safe. he’s gone. he’s not gonna come close to you ever again.”

you nodded again. but the tears had already started.

he pulled you into his arms.

you went willingly.

the moment you were against his chest, it all broke loose,sobs wracking through you like a wave crashing into shore. you clutched his shirt, buried your face in his neck, and cried like your body had been holding it in for too long.

he didn’t say anything. he just held you. nothing else mattered anymore. not the bet, not sukuna, not anyone. only you.

arms wrapped around you tight, one hand cradling your head, the other stroking slow circles on your back.

“i’m sorry,” you choked. “i didn’t mean to—”

“don’t,” he said immediately, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye. “don’t apologize. none of this is your fault.”

“but if i hadn’t—”

“no.” he kissed your forehead, the gesture becoming common nower days. “don’t. he’s the problem. not you.”

you didn’t have the words.

but he didn’t need them.

across the room, suguru was already barking cleanup orders to the uninjured alpha boys. toji was still glaring at the door like he might chase sukuna down the block. nanami was helping itadori corral people who hadn’t left yet.

and in the middle of it all, gojo stayed with you.

sure he was the president, supposed to be helping out, but you were more important to him right now.

his voice was quiet now, just for you. “i’ve got you. okay? nothing’s gonna hurt you. not while i’m here.”

you believed him.

for the first time in a long time, maybe ever, you really, truly believed someone would fight for you.

and he had.

bloody knuckles. bruised lip. rage in his voice.

gojo satoru hadn’t just fought for you.

he’d drawn a line.

and he was standing on your side.

~

the house was quieter now.

not silent, too many people still muttering, too many footsteps creaking on stairs, but the chaos had passed. the storm was over.

gojo didn’t say much as he led you upstairs.

his hand held yours the whole time, warm and steady. a grounding anchor. he opened the door to his room with a wince,his shoulder was already stiff from the fight, but he still managed to flash you a small smile.

you were no stranger to his room by now.

he helped you sit down at the edge of the bed.

“stay right there.”

you watched as he disappeared into his closet and came back with a hoodie, one of his favorites, oversized and navy blue, worn soft from too many washes.

“here.” he held it out. “you’re probably cold.”

you took it with a quiet thank you and tugged it over your head. it smelled like him too. familiar and safe.

gojo crouched in front of you again, reaching out gently. “can i?” he asked, nodding toward your face.

you nodded.

his fingertips brushed your cheek, tucking hair behind your ear. “you’re okay,” he murmured, more to himself than you. “you’re okay, you’re okay…”

you caught his hand before he pulled away. “you’re hurt, satoru.”

he blinked, then looked down at his knuckles like he’d forgotten. they were raw and crusted with blood, split open in places. his lip was cracked, too, and a bruise was starting along his cheekbone.

“i’ve had worse,” he said with a shrug. “toji once clocked me so hard i couldn’t chew for three days.”

you didn’t laugh. your fingers tightened around his.

he sobered instantly. “i’m okay. swear. just a little bruised.”

“you didn’t have to do that,” you whispered. “not for me.”

he sat beside you, close enough that your knees touched. “yes, i did.”

“but—”

“he hurt you,” gojo said quietly. “and i saw it. i saw what it did to you. how scared you were.” his jaw clenched. “you’re the strongest person i know, but no one should ever have to be that strong just to survive someone asshole like him.”

your throat tightened.

“i couldn’t stand there and let him scare you again. not after everything.”

he looked down at his lap, hands resting there, flexing absently. “i’ve never wanted to hit someone so bad in my life, and i know the others hate him too, okay? this is not your fault.”

you leaned into him. slowly. carefully. until your head was against his shoulder and his arm curled around you instinctively.

he held you like that, quiet, steady, heart still racing under his ribs.

“thank you,” you said.

“you don’t have to thank me for loving you,” he said, barely above a whisper.

your heart stopped.

had you heard that right?

was he really talking about love?! you weren't even dating!

you looked up.

he didn’t flinch. didn’t backpedal. just looked at you with that same open, raw expression he always gave you when he meant something with his whole chest.

“i know it’s early,” he said, lips quirking into the tiniest smile. “but i don’t really do the whole slow-burn thing. when i feel something, i feel it all the way.”

your breath hitched.

“so yeah,” he continued. “i love you. and if that means punching my way through a room full of assholes to make sure you’re safe, i’ll do it. every time.”

before your eyes could tear up again, you kissed him.

gently.

like you were learning what softness could be again.

he kissed you back, careful and sweet, one hand cupping your cheek like you were something precious.

when you pulled away, he smiled.

“let’s get some ice on that bruise,” you said, brushing a thumb over his cheek.

“yes ma’am,” he grinned. “but only if you stay and watch the lion king with me.”

“deal.”

you curled up in bed together, legs tangled, your head on his chest, a bag of frozen peas balanced on his face, and a disney movie playing low on his laptop.

safe.

finally, finally safe.

~

the aftermath hit like the hangover no one wanted to have.

by monday morning, the entire campus was buzzing with one thing and one thing only, the alpha phi party that turned into a free for all.

it was in whispered conversations in lecture halls. it was in blurry snap stories that got deleted after campus admin flagged them. it was in the instagram group chats, the anonymous confession pages, and even the comments section of a rogue post on the university subreddit titled “gojo v. sukuna: ultimate frat showdown (ft. toji ‘breaks drywall for fun’ fushiguro).”

everyone had an opinion.

and no one really knew the full story.

but that didn’t matter.

what mattered was the image: blood on the floor, gojo stepping over sukuna like a final boss, and the way you, silent, shaken, but still standing, had stared down the monster everyone thought was untouchable.

you heard the rumours, but your mind was only filled with what gojo had said to you that night. how he held you in his arms after telling you he loved you. and god, that was all you needed. nothing else mattered,

until it did.

the next morning, sukuna didn’t show up to class.

but that didn’t mean he wasn’t scheming.

in the darkened interior of the beta tau house, sukuna sat with an ice pack pressed to his jaw, eyes unfocused.

he could still feel gojo’s fist in his ribs. still taste blood in the back of his throat. he hadn’t been humiliated like that since—well, ever. not publicly. not in front of half the greek system and the girls who used to throw themselves at his feet.

now?

now he was the villain in everyone’s story.

and he hated it.

“yo, you good?” asked jogo, dropping onto the couch with a protein shake in hand.

“no,” sukuna snapped. “fuck off.”

“dude, we tried to tell you, alpha phi doesn’t fuck around.”

sukuna ignored him.

he needed leverage. a way to claw back what was his, not the frat clout, not even the fear. you.

you had looked at him like he was nothing.

and that cut deeper than any punch gojo could throw.

he stood, ice pack hitting the floor. he needed air, or maybe just silence. something to stop the buzzing in his brain. he headed toward the back patio, lit a cigarette he didn’t even want, and stepped into the cold.

that’s when he heard it.

voices, just beyond the hedges by the fire pit.

two guys walking past to the gym situated next to the beta tau house.

toji’s voice, low, unmistakable, smug.

“—i still can’t believe you let that shit get out. gojo bet on her dude. 2000 dollars. now he’s head over heels.”

a scoff. choso.

“i don’t think gojo was thinking straight. he wasn’t supposed to fall for her.”

sukuna froze.

toji again. “yeah, well, now he’s acting like she’s the love of his life. not just some stupid bet.”

sukuna stepped closer, just behind the stone column.

choso grunted. “shit was supposed to be a joke. he was supposed to bag the shy girl, throw her a bone, and dip. i didn’t think he was even interested at first.”

“until she got cute.”

“yeah, or until sukuna started sniffing around.”

toji laughed. “classic gojo. can’t let anything belong to someone else. i like y/n tho, she's cool. got that whole girl next door thing going, didn't mind gettin abit bloodied up over her.”

sukuna’s hand curled around the edge of the wall.

there it was.

the angle.

the weapon.

he didn’t need fists. he didn’t need revenge porn or threats or violence.

he needed truth.

or what sounded close enough to it.

~

by mid-week, the whispers about the fight had started mutating.

what started as 'gojo beat sukuna’s ass for being a creep' turned into 'gojo’s just territorial' and then warped into 'gojo and sukuna fought over some bet girl.'

sukuna was playing his cards well, whispering things to all the sorority chicks that still hung around him. he knew how they liked to gossip.

'gojo bet on some girl?'

you weren’t even the first to hear it, from yuki. she had sent you a post from a confession page of your university.

'i heard that gojo was only with that girl at the party because he bet $100 on her. that’s rough!'

another one stated.

'i knew gojo didn’t actually turn soft for some quiet wall flower. i mean come on, he’s a slut, that was never a thing.'

you swallowed as you read some more.

'yep, 100% a bet. and he’s winning so far, she seems like a clueless fucking idiot, still walking around with him like some lost puppy.'

you felt suffocated, your world was slowly darkening as your eyes went dull. of course this wasn’t real, he wasn't real. of course.

you shut off your phone, ignoring the sweet messages gojo was sending you. maybe that’s why he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet, he was never planning on longevity. he told you he loved you to keep you on your toes, and god damnit it worked.

you weren’t going to be strung along any longer. you promised yourself you were going to stop hoping for a change in men, especially ones like satoru. the heart break you were feeling wasn’t anything like when you were sukuna. it was more crushing, more defeating. like you were really just some stupid idiot who got played by the notorious satoru gojo.

one thing you knew for sure, you were done with satoru gojo.

~

the rumors were like weeds.

and gojo could feel them curling around his ankles.

every hallway he walked down came with a wave of hushed tones. every class, every lunch line, every stop at the rec center. he could see it in the way people glanced at him, more curious than impressed now.

he didn’t care about his reputation. he cared about yours.

and when he caught two girls in the library whispering your name followed by the words 'pity project', he saw red.

he slammed the book in his hands shut, making them jump.

“is there something you want to say to my face?” he asked, calm but dangerous.

they didn’t. of course they didn’t.

but the damage was done.

he needed to find suguru.

~

suguru was in the alpha phi common room, looking worse for wear, one knuckle taped, a gash on his jaw.

he looked up when gojo stormed in.

“yo.”

gojo didn’t respond right away. he just threw a screenshot down on the coffee table.

it was from an anonymous confessions page.

'the only reason gojo’s simping over her is cause of some bet. sucks she thought it was legit. pretty brutal.'

suguru stared.

then sighed. “fuck.”

“yeah,” gojo snapped. “fuck.”

“i didn’t say anything. i swear. neither did nanami or choso. i—I don’t even think toji would’ve. not to sukuna.”

gojo’s jaw ticked. “someone did.”

suguru was silent.

“do you know how this looks?” gojo hissed. “she was scared, suguru. she saw that bastard’s face and shut down. and now she’s the one being dragged for it?”

“i know.”

“she’s not even talking to me.”

suguru blinked. “what?”

gojo dropped onto the couch, ran a hand through his hair. “she won’t answer. i’ve been texting her since sunday. she's left me on read.”

“shit.”

gojo stared at the floor.

“i never really thought about that bet,” he muttered. “i never even thought about her like that at first. i didn’t even want to be part of that stupid shit.”

“i know you didn’t.”

“i thought if i just stayed quiet, it wouldn’t touch her. but i was already in too deep.”

suguru nodded slowly. “and now sukuna’s using it.”

“yeah.”

silence.

then suguru stood. “we’ll fix it.”

gojo looked up.

“you’re not the same guy you were when you shook on it. she knows that. she’s just… scared. and not just of him. she’s scared of being played again. of being humiliated.”

“i would never—”

“i know. but she doesn’t. not completely. not yet.”

gojo swallowed. “so what do i do?”

“tell her everything. the whole story. before that bastard sukuna does.”

~

sukuna didn’t go for a direct attack.

no.

he started planting seeds.

a stray comment at a mixer: “gojo really did that, huh?”

a post on his burner account: “it’s crazy how guys can fake a personality just long enough to win a bet.”

and then the cherry on top: a note slipped under your dorm door.

no name. no return address.

just a single sentence:

ask him if you’re worth $2000.

you read it twenty times, hands trembling.

you didn’t know what it meant in this context, but you knew who “him” was.

and suddenly, the rumours, the whispers, the edge in toji’s voice the night of the party, it all clicked into place.

you’d been a bet.

a checklist item.

you had guessed as much, but this note seemed to really put things into perspective…

you had never felt so humiliated, so torn.

~

about two weeks had passed.

the weight of it hit him hardest in the quiet moments, when his phone buzzed and it wasn’t you. when he passed your building and saw your window dark when he'd go on walks at night around campus, when his own reflection in the mirror stared back hollow-eyed and bruised, with no one to hold his jaw and tell him to sit still while they pressed frozen peas to his face.

gojo had never been afraid of much. not pain, not humiliation, not even losing. but the thought of losing you? of you thinking even for a second that he’d played you, used you, humiliated you? that fucking petrified him.

he sat at the edge of his bed now, elbows on his knees, fingers laced and red from stress. the party lights, the noise, the crowd’s laughter, they were all static now. all he could think about was how soft your voice had sounded when you said he didn’t have to fight for you. and how wrong you were.

he had to fight. because he’d failed you once already, the moment he’d let a stupid, careless bet ruin the bond you two shared.

the more he learned about you, the less he could stomach the bet. you made him want to be better. softer. real. you didn’t give a shit about clout, didn’t care about who he was to everyone else, you looked at him like he was just a guy. and for the first time in his life, that was all he wanted to be.

just your guy.

but now you were gone. and he didn’t blame you, how could he?

what he’d said the night of the fight wasn’t a performance. it wasn’t just adrenaline. he meant every word. he loved you. loved the way you spoke when you finally let your voice rise. loved the way you always folded your hands in your lap when you were nervous. loved how fiercely you loved, even when you were afraid to.

now he had to prove it.

~

step one: own it. no dodging. no half-truths. if he wanted to make things right, he had to be honest, about the bet, about how it started, about when it stopped being a bet.

he started with a letter.

not a text, not a dm. handwritten. honest. the kind of vulnerability he used to flinch from.

he didn’t overthink it. he just wrote.

' hey,

i don’t even know how to start this. i’ve written and rewritten this stupid thing a dozen times... every version sounded either too rehearsed or too pathetic. but i guess when you screw up as bad as i did, there’s no pretty way to say it.

you deserve the truth. the real one. not the half-story people are whispering about. not the twisted version sukuna is spreading. and definitely not the one where you end up painted as a joke.

so here it is.

when i first asked for your number, that wasn't the first time i had seen you. it was actually a few days before and you were sitting alone under an oak tree at the cafe we had our first hang out at. you looked so fucking breathtaking y/n. never in my damn life had i looked at someone and felt that captured by them. you just existed in your own quiet world, and somehow that made me want to crash into it.

but i didn’t. not right away.

because i didn’t know how to approach someone like you. someone real. someone who looked as fragile and beautiful as you. so i just ignored it, ignored you. it was easier than being the guy who gets too attached, who feels too much. the guy who ends up caring more than he should. and god, i thought about you all day, and my friends were starting to notice.

then came the bet.

it was stupid. it started as a joke between suguru and choso. something like, “gojo is thinking too heavy about this girl he hasn't even made a move on yet, how comical.” i laughed it off. i always do with them. but then it became a thing. they threw money down, $500. said i couldn’t get you to sleep with me.

and i should’ve shut it down. right then. i should’ve said no, sweetheart. i should of said no.

but i didn’t.

i quadrupled it. because i felt my whole take a hit. it's so fuckijg stupid, i know. i said 2 grand says i can sleep with her by the end of may, and me and suguru shook on it.

i did it because part of me was curious. not about winning, about you. the bet was just a personal excuse to get myself to actually work up the nerve to speak to you.

so yeah. that’s the ugly truth.

it started with a bet.

but that’s not where it stayed.

because from the moment i actually talked to you, really talked to you, i felt like an idiot. you weren’t some game or conquest. you were funny in this adorable, shy way that made me want to cradle you and keep you in my arms forever. you said what you meant, in the most sincere and honestly cute way. you made me want to be quiet just to hear what you’d say next.

and somewhere in there, i forgot about the bet.

it wasn’t important anymore. it wasn’t even a thing in my head. not when you smiled at me for the first time. not when you let me walk you home. not when you touched my hand like it meant something, when we spent all this nights curled up on my bed watching movies together.

i never told you about it because i was ashamed. because i didn’t want that to be the lens you saw me through. and maybe that was selfish. maybe i should’ve come clean earlier. but i kept thinking 'i’ll tell her tomorrow. i’ll tell her when she knows me better. when she knows i’d rather bleed on a frat house floor than see her scared again.'

but then, somehow sukuna found out.

and i knew it was only a matter of time before it all came crashing down.

he got his ego stomped on when the fight broke out and he weaponised what he heard to the max. spreading the rumour like wild fire.

that note he left you? yeah, i knew the second you got it. yuki called me and screamed at me for hurting you so bad. you didn’t answer my texts for two days after, and i felt like i couldn’t breathe. i know that sounds dramatic. but you don’t understand, you were my air. the first thing i thought about when i woke up, the last before i crashed at night. every time you touched me, i wanted to ask if i was dreaming.

and now? i’ve lost the right to even text you without a response.

so here it is. all of it.

i didn’t kiss you because of a bet. i kissed you because i was falling. hard. i told you i loved you that night because i meant it. i would’ve said it again the next morning. and the one after that.

i didn’t ask you to be mine yet because i was scared. i know, me, satoru gojo, scared. but i was. you made me want things i never thought i could have. a quiet morning. a bond full of love and trust instead of a fling full of lust. a life that didn’t revolve around proving anything to anyone.

and i thought maybe i had time. time to earn your trust. to show you i wasn’t just another frat guy who got lucky with a pretty girl.

but i don’t have time anymore, do i?

because now you think i lied to you. played you. used you like some kind of trophy.

and maybe i deserve that, because it's true, and i know how fucked uo what i did was.

maybe i’ll never be able to wipe that stain from us.

but i needed you to know it was real. you are real. every second i spent with you, every laugh, every night we talked until your eyes drifted closed against my chest, that was mine. that was ours.

i love you.

not because you’re the kind of girl a guy wins bets over, but because you’re the kind of girl a guy loses them for.

and i would lose that bet a hundred times over if it meant i got to hold you once more.

if you never want to see me again, i get it. i do.

but if there’s any part of you that still believes in me,still believes in us, then come to me.

even if you don’t show, i’ll sit and wait. for as long as it takes.

—satoru '

~

he folded it carefully, wrote your name on the outside, and dropped it at your dorm with the gentlest knock he could manage.

he went to yuki. he apologised for the way this all dragged you through the mud. asked her, quietly, if she’d let you know his letter was waiting. not to pressure you, just so you knew.

then he called in a favor from shoko, who ran the school’s unofficial gossip-stopper group chat. a screenshot from her burner account landed on every platform within hours.

'bet or not, gojo’s been yearning for this girl for weeks, defending her name even after everything came out. maybe ask why sukuna’s the one pushing the narrative so much? is he jealous? vengeful after his beat down the other night?.'

it didn’t make the problem go away, but it made people pause from the constant gossip.

gojo knew it wouldn’t be a single moment of redemption. no one cheers for a frat boy with a redemption arc. and that was fine. this wasn’t about them.

he still brought you a cup of your favorite coffee the next morning. left it outside your door with a napkin under it.

he wrote: 'still here. still yours. —s.g.'

he still paused outside your classes, just to make sure you were getting in okay.

he still left you space.

because he knew this was going to be on your terms now.

he had made damn sure of that.

and if you never opened the letter, never texted back, never looked at him again, then he’d carry that.

because the only thing worse than losing you was knowing he’d made you feel small. made you feel like a bet when you were the best thing that had ever happened to him.

but if you did open that letter… if there was even a chance you’d let him say it all to your face, he’d be waiting. always.

because loving you wasn’t a game, it was the end of one.

and the start of everything else.

~

you read the letter once.

then twice.

by the third time, your tears were soaking into the ink.

your chest hurt, tight and aching, like it might collapse in on itself. because this—this—felt more honest than anything you’d ever been given before. raw and bleeding. scared and unfiltered.

the silence in your dorm room was thick.

you reached for your phone with a trembling hand.

it had lit up earlier with his name, his sweet messages, each one ignored in your panic and heartbreak. you hadn’t even read the last few.

now, you scrolled through them with a new lens.

gojo: hey. i miss you.

gojo: please just let me explain.

gojo: i didn’t mean to hurt you. i swear.

gojo: you’re not some bet. you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

your heart cracked.

you grabbed the note again, fingers brushing the last line: even if you don’t show, i’ll sit and wait.

it was nearly 9:30pm, you didn’t even think, you just moved.

sweatpants. hoodie. the jacket he once draped over your shoulders without asking.

you left your dorm and ran, not because you forgave him. not yet. but because something deep inside you, some aching, lonely, tender part, wanted to believe that love could still be real, even after it started wrong. and maybe, just maybe, gojo satoru was brave enough to prove it.

~

you didn’t knock.

you couldn’t.

your hands were trembling too hard. your thoughts were a storm, your pulse a drumbeat in your throat. you stood outside the alpha phi frat for longer than you cared to admit, the cold biting at your fingers, that letter clenched tight in your hand like it might vanish if you let go.

you didn’t know what you were expecting.

fireworks? rain? a crowd?

maybe you thought he wouldn’t be here.

but when you opened the door (it was always unlocked), quiet, slow, he was right there.

sitting on the steps inside the house, elbows resting on his knees, head bowed like he’d been carved from stillness.

like he’d been waiting.

you didn’t say anything at first.

just stood in the entryway, frozen, every breath in your lungs trying to claw its way out.

he looked up.

his eyes met yours.

and your whole world stopped.

his lips parted, like he wasn’t sure you were real.

like he’d imagined this moment too many times, and now that it was happening, he was scared to believe it.

“hey, y/n,” he said, voice low, soft.

barely a whisper. barely air.

your throat closed up.

you should’ve had something prepared. something biting, something powerful, something that would make him feel everything you’d felt, betrayal, grief, confusion. but all of it collapsed in on itself the second he looked at you like that. like you were everything.

you swallowed.

“satoru... can we? talk?” you whispered.

his eyes burned.

“anytime,” he said. “always.”

he stood, slow, like he didn’t want to spook you. like one wrong move might send you running again. he gave you space. didn’t step too close. didn’t reach for you, even though you could see the tremor in his hands, he wanted to.

he just didn’t think he was allowed.

you looked around. the common room was empty, the TV still glowing with some paused menu screen. papers were scattered on the table. a water bottle. someone’s hoodie.

so normal. so stupidly normal.

your gaze snapped back to him.

his face looked worse up close. the bruise on his cheek was fading yellow now, and there was a scratch just beneath his jaw that looked like it hadn’t healed right.

he didn’t say anything. just watched you, waiting.

you lifted the letter. “i read it.”

he nodded once, slow. “okay.”

you searched for words.

but your chest was full of thunder and broken glass, and everything that wanted to come out was a sob or a scream.

“was it true?” you asked, finally.

his eyes didn’t leave yours. “every word.”

you clutched the paper tighter.

“you bet on me,” you said. “you made me into some stupid game.”

his breath caught.

“i didn’t know you then,” he said. “i didn’t—i didn’t even want to be part of that shit. i just—i was trying to keep things easy. and then you walked into my life and everything stopped being easy.”

you blinked hard, trying to hold back the tears building behind your eyes. “so you just… forgot to tell me?”

he flinched like you’d slapped him.

“i was scared,” he admitted, voice breaking. “i didn’t want to lose you. i thought if i never brought it up, if i just showed you how much i cared, then maybe it wouldn’t matter.”

“but it does matter,” you said, finally letting your voice crack. “it matters so much, satoru. i trusted you. you were one of the only people i could actually talk to without getting choked up and nervous..."

he nodded. once. hard.

“i know.”

“i let you in. i—I believed you when you said you loved me.”

“i meant it,” he said, desperate. “i still mean it. i love you. i didn’t even know it was love until it was too late and i was already in too deep and—”

you stepped forward. “you don’t get to say that just to fix it.”

he stopped.

you were close enough to touch now. your fingers ached to reach for him, but your heart couldn’t move.

not yet.

“you don’t get to write me a beautiful letter and stand here and wait and think that’s enough.”

he swallowed, throat bobbing.

“it’s not enough,” he said. “i know that.”

you looked at him, really looked at him.

the boy with the cocky grin and stupidly beautiful eyes. the boy who wore his heart like armor until he ripped it open for you. the boy who bled for you. fought for you. lied to protect a truth he didn’t know how to tell.

“i thought you were different,” you whispered.

“i am,” he said. “because of you.”

you shook your head, blinking back tears. “you hurt me.”

he stepped forward this time. just one pace. close, but not too close.

“then let me fix it.”

your bottom lip trembled.

he reached out, slow, trembling, and took your hand, folding it gently into his.

“please,” he said. “i know i don’t deserve a second chance. i know i fucked this up. but if there’s even one part of you that still believes in what we had—”

“have,” you said quietly. “not had.”

his breath caught.

your voice was shaking. “i don’t want to stop feeling this. i don’t want to pretend you don’t mean something to me. i just, I need to know it’s real. that i wasn’t some project. some stupid fucking conquest for your frat friends to laugh at.”

he stepped in.

this time you let him.

his hands cupped your face so gently it almost undid you his soft fingers cascading over your delicate cheeks.

“you are everything to me,” he whispered, forehead leaning into yours. “this isn’t a game. it never was. not after i met you, sweetheart.”

your breath hitched.

“you made me want to be better,” he said. “and i know that’s such a tired fucking line, but it’s true. you... you saw something in me no one else ever tried to. and i want to spend the rest of my life earning that.”

you closed your eyes.

and the tears slipped out anyway.

he kissed them away, feather-light, mouth trembling against your cheek.

“i’m sorry,” he breathed. “for the bet. for the silence. for letting someone like sukuna get in your head. i should’ve protected you better. told you sooner. i should’ve told the world you were mine and never let them question it.”

“i’m not yours,” you whispered.

he froze.

but you lifted your hand and pressed it to his chest.

“not yet,” you said. “but i want to be.”

his breath left him like he’d been shot.

and then he kissed you.

not with hunger, not with fire—but with devotion.

soft and slow, like a promise being made with lips instead of words.

you kissed him back, fingers curling into his hoodie, anchoring yourself in the only thing that felt steady.

him.

when you broke apart, he pressed his forehead to yours again, both of you breathing like you’d just run a marathon through hell.

“so,” you said, voice wobbling, “this is the part where you ask me to be your girlfriend y'know..."

he laughed, breathless, eyes wet. “fuck, no. i’m way past that.”

your brows rose as you looked up at him through your pretty lashes.

“i’m asking you to let me start over,” he said. “properly. no bets. no lies. just… me. loving you. no matter how long it takes for you to trust me again.”

you stared at him for a long moment.

then: “okay.”

his breath caught.

“okay?”

“yeah,” you said, smiling, watery but real. “okay. one slow start.”

he laughed again, and it broke open something beautiful in your chest.

and when he hugged you, arms around your waist, your face buried in his neck, you held on like maybe, just maybe, this time love was something worth holding onto.

~

later that night, you sat curled into him on his bed, still in your hoodie and sweats, with a bag of chips between you and the Lion King playing very quietly in the back.

he had one arm around you, the other lazily twirling your hair.

“i was going to show up outside your dorm like a rom-com loser,” he mumbled.

“you kinda are a rom-com loser,” you teased, leaning into him.

he grinned, that stupid, perfect, heart-cracking grin. “yeah, but i’m your rom-com loser now.”

you rolled your eyes, but didn’t deny it.

because yeah.

he was.

your eyes softened as you curbed into his touch.

"i missed you, toru."

he let out a soft laugh. "toru, huh? only suguru calls me that. it's cute coming from your pretty little mouth."

you giggled and kissed his cheek.

'god, this is bliss.' he thought.

he finnaly had you. all to himself. no stupid bet hanging over his head, no sukuna swimming around in the shadows waiting to pounce, and no expectations.

just you, and him.

~

you don’t know when the laughter fades.

you’re still curled into him, your head resting on his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek. the ice cream’s melted, the movie’s long since ended, but neither of you moved, not really. just soft touches, occasional whispers 'i love you', the silence warm instead of heavy.

his fingers trace lazy shapes against your back.

your hand plays with the hem of his shirt.

and somewhere between a breath and a heartbeat, everything shifts.

his touch lingers a second longer. your fingers slip beneath the fabric, barely there, but enough to make his breath catch.

he tilts his head, just enough to look down at you.

you meet his gaze.

and the air between you thickens.

your lips part, but you don’t say anything. don’t need to. not when his eyes are already dropping to your mouth, like he’s waiting for permission.

you give it without a word.

his kiss this time is different.

not soft. not slow.

hungry.

like the dam finally cracked and all the restraint he’s been holding back with both hands floods loose.

your hands slip up his shirt, palms skating over warm skin and muscle, and he groans against your mouth, low and wrecked, like he’s been dreaming of this.

he pulls back, just enough to search your face.

“are you sure?”

your heart stutters.

you nod. “i want you, toru.”

his expression twists, like that means more to him than it should.

“you have me,” he says, voice rough, reverent. “every part.”

he kisses you again, and this time he lays you back, gentle but firm, like he’s terrified you’ll vanish if he isn’t careful.

and when his mouth trails down your neck, hands slipping beneath the hem of your hoodie, he looks up one last time,

waiting.

you nod again.

this time, he doesn’t stop.

his nips became focused, pulling adorably pornographic moans from your sweet mouth, groaning himself at the sounds.

he made his way down your neck and whispered the softest, sweetest words you'd ever heard during intimate moments like these.

'god, y/n you're perfect sweet heart...' 'you look so pretty baby girl.' 'so sweet for me'

he gently lifted up your hoodie, removing your clothes like he was worshipping a goddess. he feathered his fingers over your skin, taking in your half naked body with hungry yet appreciating eyes. you stared at him as if you were waiting for him to hurry up and tear your underwear and bra off, but he didn't. he traced his fingers up and down your sides.

"are you comfortable taking these off baby? we can leave them on if it makes you feel better."

your eyes almost welled over with tears. almost.

because it wasn’t the question itself, it was the way he asked it. like it mattered. like you mattered. like your comfort was just as important as his desire.

you nodded slowly, shyly, a little embarrassed by how much that question meant to you.

“yeah,” you whispered, barely audible. “i want you to see all of me.”

his eyes searched yours for a beat longer, just to be sure. then he leaned down and kissed your temple so gently it made your chest ache.

“thank you,” he murmured, brushing your hair back. “for trusting me.”

you couldn’t look at him when you slid your underwear off. not at first. heat burned at the tips of your ears, your throat going tight as you lay back against the pillows, arms twitching with the instinct to cover yourself.

but then you felt his hand slip into yours.

“hey,” he said softly, coaxing your gaze back to his. “you don’t have to hide. you’re… god, you’re beautiful.”

you swallowed hard. the raw way he looked at you made you feel fragile, but not in a bad way. in a held way. like he wasn’t going to break you. like he’d never even try.

“it’s okay,” he added, brushing the backs of his fingers along your cheek. “i know it’s different. i know he—” his jaw twitched, but he caught himself. “you don’t have to be scared of being touched anymore. not like that.

you blinked up at him, breathing shaky.

“it wasn’t always rough with him,” you whispered before you could stop yourself. “at first, he made me feel wanted. and then… he started pulling away. touching me when i didn’t want it. saying it was my fault if i wasn’t in the mood.”

gojo’s expression darkened, but he didn’t interrupt.

“he said i was cold,” you added, eyes fluttering shut. “and selfish. that if i really cared, i’d let him—” your voice cracked. “so i started pretending to want it. just to make him happy.”

you waited for disgust. for pity. for him to recoil.

but all you got was a fierce, aching tenderness.

he kissed the center of your chest, right over your heartbeat, and stayed there for a long moment.

“you never deserved that,” he said finally, voice thick with emotion. “none of it. you weren’t selfish, you were scared. and he used that. twisted it.”

his hands cupped your sides, warm and steady.

“i’m not him, y/n. and this isn’t about proving anything. it’s just us. just this moment. and if you ever want to stop—if you even flinch—i’ll hold you and we’ll watch cartoons instead. deal?”

you laughed, choked and watery, but a real laugh all the same.

“deal,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his messy white hair.

he kissed you again, slow and sweet and grounding.

and as his lips moved back down your body, there was no rush. no pressure. just love, in every brush of his fingertips, in every kiss he pressed to your bare skin, in every gentle whisper that reminded you this time was different.

because this time, you were safe.

this time, you were wanted, not as an obligation, or a trophy, or a conquest.

but as you.

and god, gojo satoru was going to make sure you never forgot it.

he too took off his clothes, peeling back his shirt along with his sweat pants. your eyes blew out at just how gorgeous he was. he was smooth, pale, clean. like his body was sculpted up in the heavens by an old greek-man. he was a stark difference to sukuna. he was leaner, prettier. no tattoos to hide a fragile ego behind, no flashy clothing. just him, and the delicate silver chain he always wore that seemed to perfectly reflect his persona.

you found yourself running your hand over his chest. he smiled and cupped your cheek. with the both of you now naked, satoru had you pulled right against his body as he kissed every naked inch. he made his way down to your adorably perky nipple, taking one into his mouth, and rolling it on his tounge, earning a long drawn out whine from you. he could feel his cock ache with each little moan, every little twitch of your body.

he trained his tongue down your torso slowly until he was down by your heat. he looked up at you, smiling softly as he slowly prayed your legs open, holding your lower calf and kissing the inside of your ankle.

'you're perfect.'

you were starting to get embarrassed at how sensual he was being, but god did it feel good. you couldn't help the groan that escaped your mouth when he started massaging the plush skin of your bare thigh, his eyes locked on your dripping pussy.

"awhh baby, you're so wet for me. didn't know something as cute as you could get so messy." he teased, moving his hands higher and higher up your thighs until his long finger tips were brushing over the skin of your labia. his fingers were like electricity. he hadn't even gotten to the sweet part yet but you could feel a tight coil tightening in your stomach. he was going tantalisingly slow, licking his lips as he ran his fingers over everywhere but your clit.

you looked up at him with shy eyes, like you wanted, needed to ask him to keep going.

he just smirked, looking down at you with eyes full of a bubbly kind of lust, he was high on the moment.

"what is it baby girl? you need me to do something?"

you covered your mouth out of habit, nodding shyly as you fought the urge to just grab his hand and place the pads of his fingers over your clit yourself.

''oh yeah? what is it sweetheart? you seem a bit hot and bothered. want me to touch... here?" as soon as the words left his mouth his middle finger pressed down hard on your clit, finally letting you release the choked up moan you were holding in. he smirked even wider as he started rolling the sensitive bud under his finger. "you look so fucking cute... squirming around just from a little pressure? wonder what you'll do when i actually slam my cock into this pretty little hole..."

you almost choked at how vulgar he suddenly got, nothing like the soft satoru you were used to but god, it was hot. all sense of slowness disappeared after that moment, and satoru, without warning, slammed two of his long thick fingered up into your tight little hole.

"f-fuck! t-toru oh my-"

you couldn't finnish, strangled moans was all that came out of your mouth as he pumped his fingers in and out with precision and skill. "gonna make you feel so good honey. so fucking good."

he curled his fingers, hitting that spongy spot deep inside your cunt making you gasp and grab at his navy bed sheets. he moved his head down and begun to suck on your clit with his long tongue rolling it backwards and forth. you were shaking from the pleasure, right coils about to burst inside your stomach were becoming harder to ignore as you moaned louder and louder, the shy girl everyone knew was long gone as your silky voice became wracked with pretty moans. satoru lied into your pussy as he felt you start to get closer and closer, he missed your clit and picked up the pace with his fingers, making you groan and cry out. 'toru- you're hah amazing... holy shit you're so- fuck- good!"

his eyes rolled back at the sound of your voice, slamming his fingers deeper inside, finger fucking you so good. "s-shit toru! i'm gonna- i'm gonna!"

he didn't let you finnish, he sucked harder on your clit and fucked his fingers impossibly deeper, finally, you came undone all over his chin.

he looked very pleased, still staring at your cunt with heart eyes.

he was quick to lap up every drop, sucking your entrance with a satisfied groan.

"shit- y/n... your pussy is so perfect baby. you're so fucking perfect. need to fuck you honey- so bad."

as you caught your breath, body slightly shaking beneath him, you watched as he sat up, pulling off his boxers to reveal the most perfect cock you had ever seen... it was long, with a red angry tip already covered in translucent pre. he smiled as he watched you stare with wide eyes.

"think you can handle it sweet thing? if it's too much we can always-"

"no! no. i want you toru. i want you so bad, please fuck me."

the look of disbelief on satoru's face was priceless. never in a million years did he expect such a blunt statement from the shy girl he grew to knew, but holy fuck, was his cock 10x harder now.

"as you wish, precious."

he took his position back inbetween your legs, hovering over you. he placed one hand beside your head, the other on his aching cock.

"i'll go slow baby. just relax for me sweet girl, i'll make you feel so good."

he was honest, he slipped the tip in slowly, you let out small moans as it stretches you out, he kissed your temple as he whispered reassurance in your ear.

'you can take it baby.' 'you can do it y/n'

he slid the rest of his length in, bottoming out with a deep groan.

"so fucking tight."

you could only manage hiss through clenched teeth, you felt so deliciously full. he looked into your eyes for permission to move, and the look of pure lust he got in return was all he needed before he started to slowing thrust on and out of your perfectly tight heat.

your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as he pushed his hips down further and further into you, pinning you down in a mating press. you could form no words as he picked up his pace, the only noise coming from your mouth was strings of moans, 'nnnghh- toru!' 'f-fuck- so good- i-'

he held your hips as he pounded deeper and deeper, holding you still as he abused your g-spot. your velvety walls clenched around his long cock, making him grunt with each thrust. "holy fucking shit y/n hah, so good for me, so fucking good for me baby. holy fuckkk you're so goddamn tight- hah!."

he slammed into you at a feverish pace, you could feel your world dizzying as his movements fucked into you in all the right places. he was so dominant, yet so gentle. his pace was controlled, his hands didn't grip you crushingly, and he peppered small kisses over your forehead as he thrusted in and out. it was perfect.

"baby- fuck- you're so pretty like this honey. so cute looking so fucked out for me- hah-"

you bit your lip as you tried to respond, but your climax was coming too quick, you couldn't even think. a hand flew to his shoulder as you squeezed tightly. satoru could feel your walls closing in harder on his cock, and he smiled knowing you were close. he rutted his hips deeper, faster, chasing your high like it was the only thing that mattered, because to him? it did. your pleasure was the only thing concerning him.

he looked into your eyes and saw them dilate, you were right on the edge.

"cmon baby. you can do it sweetheart- cum for me- cum for toru baby. you can do it-"

his words sent a shiver down your spine as you let out a loud and very sexy moan, your high crashing over you like a tidal wave. satorus came not long after, he pulled out quickly and stroked his length, coming undone onto your lower belly.

you were too fucked out to notice, you had just revived the best dicking down of your damn life.

before he had a chance to calm down, satoru was already grabbing for wet wipe beside his bed to clean you up. he wiped the cum off of your body and kissed your forehead softly.

"sorry for not cumming in a tissue baby, i just-"

"shh toru. it's fine, it's fine, i'm on birth control you could of just finished inside."

you smiled up at him as his sorrowful expression faded. he chukled and kissed your cheek. "i'll keep that in mind sweetheart."

he rushed off to grab a hot cloth and came back, tenderly washing off your body as he whispered sweet words into your ear.

'you were so perfect baby.' 'that was so perfect.'

~

your head was tucked under his chin, your body still humming from the moment you’d just shared. the room was dim, washed in gold from the lamp on his desk. the covers were tangled around your legs, your skin still warm where his hands had touched you like you were something breakable. something precious.

you were quiet, heart pounding against his ribs like it was trying to break free, like it didn’t quite believe it was safe yet.

gojo’s fingers traced idle patterns along your back, slow and feather-light, like he didn’t want to disturb the silence but still needed to be connected to you somehow. his other hand was curled around yours where it rested between your chests, your fingers interlocked like the spaces between them had been made just for this.

“you okay?” he asked softly, breath warm against your hair.

you nodded.

then, after a moment, you whispered, “i didn’t know it could be like that.”

his hand paused, then resumed its path over your skin. “like what?”

“gentle.”

your voice was so small, so fragile, he almost missed it.

gojo’s chest rose and fell in a slow, steady breath. “was it too much?”

“no,” you said quickly. “no, it was… it was perfect.”

you pressed your face into his chest, ashamed of the tears building in your eyes. you weren’t supposed to be crying right now, not after something like that. but you couldn’t help it. your body was still trying to reconcile softness with safety. intimacy with kindness.

his arms tightened around you instantly.

“talk to me,” he murmured.

you hesitated. “with sukuna… it was never like this.”

gojo didn’t speak, just waited, patient and still.

“it was always rough. like he didn’t care if it hurt. like he wanted it to.” you swallowed hard. “he used to tell me i was lucky he even wanted me. like i should be grateful.”

gojo’s jaw clenched under your cheek, but his touch never changed. he didn’t pull away. didn’t interrupt.

“he didn’t see me,” you whispered. “not really. not like you do.”

gojo kissed the top of your head, long and slow. “i see you,” he said quietly. “i see everything. and i want all of it.”

your throat tightened.

“you’re not something to be tolerated, or controlled, or used,” he said. “you’re not here to make someone feel bigger by making yourself smaller. not anymore. not with me.”

you clutched his hand a little tighter.

“you don’t have to thank me for being kind to you,” he added after a moment. “that should’ve been your bare minimum. and i hate that it wasn’t.”

his voice cracked at the edges, like he was holding something in.

you looked up slowly.

his eyes were red-rimmed, glassy with unshed tears. “i hate that he made you feel like you were hard to love.”

your chest broke open.

“you’re not,” he said. “you’re easy to love. so easy, i don’t even know when it happened. it just… did.”

your lip trembled. “i was so scared to want this. to want you.”

“i know,” he said softly. “but you’re safe now. i promise.”

he kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then the tip of your nose—each one slower than the last, like he was memorizing you piece by piece.

“you can be quiet,” he murmured. “you can be shy. you can be soft, and unsure, and afraid. i’ll still be here.”

you let the tears fall then. not because you were broken, but because you were healing. and healing always hurt a little.

he wiped them away with the pads of his thumbs, then pulled you even closer, if that was possible.

“do you want to talk about him?” gojo asked gently. “or anything else?”

you were quiet for a long time. then, your voice barely audible:

“there was this one night… i said i was too tired. it was finals week and i hadn’t slept in two days. i could barely keep my eyes open, and he just... he laughed. said, ‘too tired? who the hell do you think you are?’ and then he grabbed my arm.”

gojo didn’t speak, didn’t even breathe too loud.

“he didn’t hit me,” you said quickly. “not that night. but he left bruises on my wrist from how tight he held me. and after… he made me apologize. said i was being dramatic. that i needed to learn my place.”

a sound tore from gojo’s throat then, low and wrecked.

your breath hitched, embarrassed suddenly, but he leaned in, touched his forehead to yours.

“you never had to earn love,” he said fiercely. “and you never deserved that. not ever.”

you looked at him, eyes shimmering.

“you’re not dramatic. you’re not wrong for needing rest. or comfort. or boundaries.” he touched your hand where it rested on his chest. “you don’t ever have to explain why something hurt. if it hurt, that’s enough. that’s valid.”

your lips parted, stunned by how simple he made it sound. how obvious.

“i’m so sorry you went through that,” he whispered. “but you’re not alone anymore.”

you nodded, voice thick. “i know.”

“you can tell me every memory, every scar. i’ll hold them all.”

you curled in tighter to him, face pressed to the curve of his neck. “i think that was the worst part. not the bruises, not the yelling. it was how small he made me feel. like i was disposable.”

gojo’s voice was hoarse. “you’re the most irreplaceable thing in my life.”

you blinked up at him, heart cracking wide open.

“i love you,” he whispered. “so much it hurts.”

your breath caught.

“but i’ll wait until you’re ready to say it back. no pressure. no expectations.”

you squeezed his hand.

and for the first time in a long time, you believed it, fully, wholly, in your bones.

you were safe.

you were seen.

you were loved.

and for the first time, you weren’t afraid to be soft.

"i love you too, satoru. so much."

m.list !!

RAHHHH CHAT MY FIRST LONG FIC DONE WAS THAT GAS?!🫦🫦🫦

seeing the sweet comments literally made me giggle and kick my feet i love you ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

wicked game

chapter 3 - frat president

synopsis: y/n is sarah’s roommate and the embodiment of sunshine. rafe, on the other hand, is her complete opposite. when the boys place a bet that he can't win her over, rafe takes the challenge without hesitation. after all, he never backs down from a dare. the closer rafe gets to y/n, he finds himself drawn to her warmth in a way he never expected, and for the first time, he wants to be more than just the guy with a bad reputation.

but secrets don’t stay hidden for long, and when y/n finds out the truth, rafe is left to face the consequences. now, he has to prove that somewhere along the way, the bet stopped mattering, because losing her was never part of the plan.

masterlist

cw: language, alcohol, drugs

the group guided you to the kitchen where all the alcohol was kept. jj took it upon himself to grab drinks for everyone, shoving a red solo cup into your hand with a wink. “for you, y'n."

"thanks jj." you eyed the cup warily before taking a small sip. the burn of cheap liquor mixed with coke made you wince, but you forced a smile. cleo laughed at your expression. “yeah, you get used to it.”

sarah linked her arm with yours. “come on, let’s make a lap around the party. gotta get the full experience.”

you let her guide you through the crowd, weaving between groups of people dancing, flirting, and shouting over the music. the kappa tau house was massive, with more rooms than you could count, each one filled with students making the most of their first week back.

out in the garden, a massive beer pong game was underway, a group of guys cheering obnoxiously as a ping pong ball landed perfectly in a red cup.

sarah smirked, nodding toward them. “wanna give it a shot?"

you hesitated, "really?"

"come on, it'll be fun." kie chimed in, leading you to the group.

you grabbed a ping pong ball, rolling it between your fingers as you took in the scene. the guys across the table, two cocky-looking juniors, smirked at you like they had already won.

john b leaned in. “aim for the middle cups. trust me.”

you took a deep breath, lined up your shot, and tossed the ball. it bounced once, hit the rim, and, by some miracle, landed perfectly in a cup.

the group around you erupted into cheers. jj whistled. “beginner’s luck or secret beer pong prodigy?”

you laughed, feeling some of the nerves melt away. “definitely luck.”

kie grinned. “we’ll see about that.”

the game continued, and before you knew it, you were laughing, talking, and actually having fun. you had just downed another sip of your drink when sarah’s face suddenly twisted in annoyance.

“oh, great,” she muttered.

you followed her gaze, and that’s when you saw them. two guys were making their way through the party like they owned the place.

“they’re coming over here,” cleo murmured under her breath.

“why?” you asked, unaware of the situation.

sarah sighed. “because topper still thinks we’re friends even though i've told him a thousand times we’re not.”

“well, well,” the one you presumed to be topper grinned, looking at sarah. “didn’t think i’d see you here, cameron.”

sarah crossed her arms. “yeah, i tend to regret it every time i do.”

topper just laughed, clearly unbothered, before his eyes flickered to you. his smirk widened. “and who’s this?”

before you could answer, the other boy, who had been silent up until now, let out a low chuckle. “fresh meat.”

you turned sharply, meeting his gaze. he was already looking at you, eyes cold and assessing, like he was sizing you up.

you felt your blood boil. "it's y/n," you corrected, voice steady despite the way he was staring at you.

he tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering across his face like he found your defiance entertaining.

"sarah’s new roommate," kie said before he could respond.

topper’s brows raised. "ohhh. so you’re the new angel on her shoulder?"

sarah rolled her eyes. "fuck off, top."

topper just smirked, taking a slow sip from his cup, clearly enjoying getting under sarah’s skin.

but you barely noticed him anymore, because the other guy was still staring at you. his gaze unsettling.

"you gonna keep looking at me like that, or do you actually have something to say?" you asked, raising a brow.

kie stifled a laugh, cleo shot you an approving look, and sarah looked like she wanted to cheer.

he just smirked. a slow, arrogant smile that made your stomach tighten. "just trying to figure out why you’re here," he said smoothly. "you don’t really seem like the type."

you tilted your head. “and what type is that?” irritation taking over.

he could clearly see your annoyance, which only egged him on. "the type to survive in a place like this. you seem pretty fucking simple. you wouldn’t last two minutes in a place like this sunshine."

"you think you know me?" you shot back.

"yeah." he leaned in closer to you, "i think i do. you’re just another girl trying to fit in. probably think you’re special, but you’re not."

your heart raced, "you don't know anything about me."

"lucky me. i wouldn't waste my time trying to get to know someone like you." he responded, but before he could say anymore sarah dragged you away from him.

"what a prick." you muttered to the girls.

"yeah well that's rafe for you." cleo spoke.

"rafe?" you quizzed, not knowing the name.

"rafe cameron. frat president and the asshole i unfortunately share blood with." sarah responded.

your mouth opened in shock, "that's your brother?"

"ding ding ding."

a/n: posting this so late i cannot sleep

🏷️: @heartzshiftamy @hoefordrewstarkey @luvrclub @yesterdaysproblemm @leleee3 @yktayy9669 @miumiuestmoi @anacamofficial @cokewithcameron @bloodofadoll @shorttandsweett @mysticbby2009 @emmiesummers @wintercrows @drewrry @starkeyxcameron @xxbirkindoll2 @stoned-writer @drewstarkeyslover @hannieskzzz @verycherryblossomhideout @letstryagaintomorrow @@jjsbbg7 @mariamadison6-blog @laniirackssss @xeneasworld @countryclubwhore @drewsphswife @mattyskies @moonywhisp3rs @starkeygirls @lmaolmaos @thereallifebambi @emeloyy @vcnillafairy @rafecameronswhoore @st8rkey @angeldiaryy @therealfairybatman @drewsephrry @vanessa-rafesgirl @dreamybabbyy @pogueprincesa @happy-mushrooms @hannaa20002000 

[okkotsuus]

"COLLEGE! AU" ー tabieitaken 🪽

features: tabito karasu, eita otoya, kenyu yukimiya

contents: college au, friendships, polycule jokes, jealousy/competition, very messy headcanons, 0.8k

notes: since my lovely @cheralith has tabieitaken stuck in my head at all times... this is literally just me talking at the wall

ALL

they're all in the same frat (alpha tau omega) and ended up rooming together after their first year in an apartment a few minutes off campus. tabito is the primary name on the lease, but yuki handles most of the stuff with their landlord (otoya just forks over money every month).

every friday, without fail, they all get together to do something, whether it be movies or dinner.

their apartment was decorated by yuki and karasu; but otoya is the one who most often brings home decor for the apartment (usually it's something stupid he bought).

they actually don't cook very often, like in terms of full meals, yet they are still an ingredient house iykyk.

one time, otoya accidentally hotboxed the bathroom and yuki went to take a shower and almost died.

despite how popular they all are, they refuse to host parties because their building is mainly elderly folks and they would feel horrible for them having to deal with hammered college students.

tabito and otoya went to highschool together and met yuki in their freshman year through the frat.

despite their differences, they are all actually extremely intelligent.

TABITO KARASU

3rd year biomedical engineering major.

tabito, despite literally never speaking in class except when called on, is very well known.

takes extremely elegant and detailed notes for every lecture: no matter how fast the professor is talking.

somehow always locked in, even if he's extremely hungover from an event the night before.

the kind of guy who really only talks to people unless they talk to him first or he's tipsy.

has never failed a class, he's extremely intelligent.

he has this very specific ritual he does before every single exam where he sleeps with his notebook under his pillow (it's so stupid but it has never failed him).

plans to go into biomedical engineering to design medical devices that put less of a strain on the patient (e.x. streamlining insulin pumps or making pacemakers less intensive)

actually extremely passionate about his work, got in on a full-ride for his essay which was his planned thesis for grad school.

works as a lab assistant in the school's medical research facility.

EITA OTOYA

3rd year political science major.

if you actually see otoya in class, it's rarer than getting struck by lightning: double credit if he's sober and awake.

despite this, somehow everyone in all his classes knows him and he knows everyone's names (it's bc he's a lurker).

the pledge hazer, he is so annoying; but he's never malicious about it like some of the guys are.

he smokes or takes edibles, constantly has some fruity vape on him at all times. he swears he can stop whenever he want (he cannot).

originally planned to take a gap year but his mom almost beat his ass for even suggesting it so he chose the major he thought was the easiest.

he doesn't know it yet, but he will end up going to law school to be a criminal prosecutor trust.

despite his horrid attendance, his grades are pretty good (lowest is a 82%), he's one of those smart kids that could be a genius if he just applied himself.

works at the local dispensary and as a barista on the campus cafe.

KENYU YUKIMIYA

3rd year fashion design and business management double major.

he wants to end up with his own clothing line, but he is actually horrible at sewing so it's kind of funny. he's only good at the designing part fr

literally everyone's hallway crush, everyone knows him and all the freshmen have a thing for him at some point.

the kind of student that all the professors like, even the typically rough ones that seem to hate everyone (he's a kissass and he knows it).

perfect attendance unless he is ill to the point of physically unable being to go to class.

academic validation kid, struggled hard his freshman year when everything wasn't easy peasy anymore like it was in high school.

partial-ride, about half of his tuition.

he became an ra for the free room and board his second year but ended up hating it so he didn't do it this year.

really good grades, but not as good as karasu's even though he tries harder (it really pisses him off)

works as a freelance model/actor and at the local movie theatre

⚜️ ㅤ okkotsuus ㅤ 25

[internetskiff]

The most powerful ability exclusive to humanity in the Half Life/Portal shared universe is our ability to just throw bullshit at the wall and see what sticks. Aperture "OSHA are the devil" Science have managed to create completely safe interconnected points in space. The same company that turns people's blood into gasoline and shoves lions and humans into the same enclosed space for the vague concept of "Science". Meanwhile Black Mesa still has to use Xen as a crossing and their teleportation device requires an entire reactor with a village's worth of staff constantly maintaining it, just to end up having most of said staff abducted by onion-headed aliens. Even the resistance hasn't managed to create completely stable teleporters with a compressed Xen relay, meanwhile Aperture just went "oh dude let's shove a black hole into a non-waterproof gun" and have just created a teleportation method that just removes Xen from the equation entirely. Doesn't change the fact they bullshat so bad they basically got themselves gassed to death, but still.

The Resistance are a good example of this too. The Combine seem to have a complete set-in-stone thought process and understanding of science which meant they didn't even begin to explore local teleportation via Xen, meanwhile a group of random human mechanics and scientists have managed to cobble together at least two semi-functional local teleporters out of scrap metal and stolen Combine tech, to the point the All-Consuming Interdimensional Empire had to straight up copy their homework. And that isn't even the only time they seem to be taking human shit to just copy the blueprints.

They 100% just yoinked the entire damn car out of that garage just to take a crack at reverse-engineering the Tau Cannon attached to it. Even Resistance weaponry somehow manages to rival or at least stand equal to Combine tech - and we're talking improvised crossbows that shoot superheated rods of rebar at the target compared to high-tech rifles that can discharge orbs of pure dark energy. The collapse of the entire Citadel is basically set into motion as a result of a cobbled together Rebel device placed into extremely capable hands.

The events of the Portal games are a case of extremely elaborate machinelike planning versus pure human improvisation, with Chell's entire escape in the first game involving her simply weaseling her way through small cracks that GLaDOS missed while setting up her ambushes, eventually turning her own rocket turret against her to destroy her.

I suppose you could argue this falls flat in Portal 2 with Wheatley, but it's important to remember he's designed to be an utter idiot, so it's safe to say he wouldn't obsess over the larger picture like GLaDOS to the point where he fails to see the cracks. Yes, he's the one that breaks Chell out of the test chambers again, and yes, he's the one that came up with the sabotage plot - but it's important to note while he knows what to target in the sabotage, when we actually get there he doesn't quite know how to sabotage it, leaving Chell to figure it out on her own. She botches the Turret Quality Control Line with some minor guidance, but it's basically completely up to her to figure out how to cut off the Neurotoxin Supply. It's through her improvisation that Wheatley even manages to get into GLaDOS' chamber, tumbling through her neurotoxin vent and shattering the glass cage she trapped Chell inside of. It's through Chell's improvisation that the Core Transfer even occurs in the first place.

The script is flipped specifically when Wheatley takes charge, because oops - turns out a mind capable of focusing on the bigger picture might be pretty important when it comes to running an entire facility powered by it's own Reactor. Wheatley just completely zeroes in on his own personal pleasure, hacking up test chambers and the objects within them to try and figure out the easiest way to get his solution euphoria as quick as possible.

Still, something that's pretty interesting is that only Wheatley has ever managed to create a trap that's impossible to foresee and avoid, something GLaDOS has repeatedly failed to do to the point she ends up commending him. I believe this is because his way of thinking is a lot closer to Chell's compared to GLaDOS'. He puts up way more of a fight as the two run through the facility trying to get to him, seemingly improvising on the spot just like Chell has been over the course of the two games. Even his lair would be impossible to survive if it weren't for a single Conversion Gel pipe he somehow failed to notice and remove.

Whether in a laboratory deep beneath the soil or an alien tower tall enough to split the clouds, the ingenuity of even a single person is enough to topple a tower or destroy a supercomputer 3 times over.

Marc Laidlaw put what I'm trying to say into a single sentence when writing for the BreenGrub twitter account:

"The superstructure is riddled with cracks."

[estellan0vella]

Secret Loser: H.JS Han Jisung x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 19.4K

CW: Mention of body piercings, specifically a Prince Albert, Sexual References (No Smut), Minlix romance, side romances, OOC Jisung, tatted-up Jisung (a warning of it's own)

General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist

The sun is setting, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink as the Alpha Phi boys lounge around a picnic table at Wolmi Myland, a theme park in Incheon. The air is warm and sticky with the scent of hot dogs, popcorn, and fried food. They’re all wearing ridiculous novelty sunglasses. Each pair is more absurd than the last.

Jisung, ever the dramatic one, wears a pair of neon-pink guitar-shaped sunglasses that are so large they almost obscure his face entirely. He’s sitting back in his chair, arms crossed, looking unbothered, but there’s a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Fuck, I can barely see with these things on,” Changbin mutters, adjusting his own aviator-style glasses that have a flame design on the sides. He’s half-dressed in football team merch, the oversized T-shirt swallowing his frame. He shovels a handful of fries into his mouth and looks over at Minho, who's sitting opposite him, winking at Felix.

Felix, whose blonde hair is messy from the humidity, but still perfectly styled, glances up at Minho, his face turning a shade of pink that clashes with the neon orange of his oversized bunny sunglasses.

“Stop fucking staring, Minho,” Felix says, his voice crackling with a nervous laugh.

Minho leans in a little closer, his eyes dancing with mischief, the black, pink, and blue streaks in his hair matching the colour scheme of his mirrored sunglasses. “What, you can’t handle it, Felix? You look cute when you’re embarrassed, you know that?”

Felix’s cheeks go from pink to red, and he stutters, an adorable mess. “I-I don’t- What the hell are you talking about?” He tries to redirect his attention to his phone, scrolling through the latest Instagram posts from Kappa Tau, but Minho’s not letting him off the hook that easy.

“Come on, stop pretending you’re not into it,” Minho teases, his voice low and warm, a playful edge to every syllable. He gives Felix a slow, deliberate wink, and the heat on Felix’s face only deepens.

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” Felix mutters, trying to avoid looking at him directly. His fingers fumble with the straw in his drink. He’s trying, really trying, not to be flustered, but Minho’s making it impossible.

“You’re so cute when you blush,” Minho continues, giving Felix a lazy, flirtatious grin. “Honestly, I’m surprised I haven’t kissed you yet, Felix. What’s the hold up?”

Felix sputters, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Y-You- What? No, shut up.” His hands shake as he brings his drink to his lips, but instead of sipping, he accidentally splashes some soda on his chin.

“Smooth,” Jisung chimes in, his guitar-shaped sunglasses reflecting the twilight. “You know, Felix, I never thought I'd see you as the type to blush like a virgin in church, but here we are.” He leans back, chuckling to himself.

Changbin snorts. “Fucking right. I thought you had game, man.” He gives Felix a playful shove, the fries he’s holding spilling everywhere. “Guess not, huh?”

Felix looks at him, aghast. “I have fucking game. You’re just all assholes.”

“Sure, sure,” Changbin grins. “Just admit Minho’s got you weak in the knees, bro.”

“Fuck off, Changbin,” Felix snaps, but his eyes dart to Minho, and for a split second, he looks like he’s about to give in. But he quickly turns away, reaching for a bag of chips to hide his flustered expression.

“Yikes, dude, you really are a mess,” Seungmin says, popping a chip into his mouth with an exaggerated crunch. He’s got the worst luck, though. While everyone else is sporting absurdly oversized sunglasses, Seungmin’s sporting a pair of dick-shaped sunglasses.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Minho asks, bursting into laughter. “Dude, you literally lost the rock-paper-scissors tournament and this is the price you pay? Fucking dick glasses?”

Seungmin, ever the good sport, grins. “Yeah, I look fucking amazing, don’t I?” He leans back, letting the ridiculousness of it all sink in. “The ladies love it.”

“Right,” Changbin snickers. “Yeah, you’re gonna get so much ass with those, Seungmin.”

“Can’t wait to get those numbers,” Seungmin quips back, tossing a handful of fries at Changbin. “I’ll be swimming in pussy.”

“Fuck off, man,” Jisung laughs, his voice vibrating with amusement. He lets out a dramatic sigh. “You guys are all a bunch of idiots.”

“Hey,” Hyunjin says from the other end of the table, adjusting his longish black hair and flicking his sunglasses to the side. “Can we focus for a second? I still can’t believe we’re all stuck here because of that stupid game of gawi bawi bo. What the fuck, we’re Alpha Phi, not a fucking daycare.”

“It’s the fucking principle of the matter, man,” Jisung protests, rolling up his black button-up sleeves to reveal his inked arms. His scorpion tattoo winks at anyone brave enough to look too closely. “Seungmin lost, he wears the dick glasses. End of story.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hyunjin mutters, pulling a hot dog from the wrapper. “But we could be, I don’t know, doing something cool right now. Instead, we’re all sitting around here in dumb glasses, eating shit food.”

Felix’s lips quirk into a grin as he takes another sip from his drink. “We’re doing what we do best. Acting like idiots.”

“Fuck yeah,” Changbin agrees, tossing a fry into the air and catching it in his mouth with impressive skill. “But it’s not even that bad. I’m pretty sure we’re the only ones in this park with a crew as fucking good-looking as us. Right, Jeongin?”

Jeongin, who had been sitting silently, nods enthusiastically, flashing a wide grin. His black hair falls into his eyes as he tilts his head to look at them. “I mean, we’re pretty fucking hot. No one stands a chance.”

“You’re right,” Minho chimes in with a smirk. “But still, Felix here can’t handle it when I flirt with him. It’s like he turns into a fucking tomato.”

“Shut the hell up, Minho,” Felix mutters, reaching for his fries to avoid making eye contact.

The whole group bursts into laughter, the sound of their voices cutting through the fading sunlight. There’s something about their energy, the way they mess with each other without any real malice behind it, that makes it hard to tell if they’re just friends or if there’s something more simmering beneath the surface. The way Minho looks at Felix, the way Felix reacts, says a lot more than they’re willing to admit.

But for now, all they care about is the joke, the laughter, and the warm summer night ahead. The rest can wait.

The bustling energy of Wolmi Myland crescendos as the disco pang pang ride spins in vivid neon, flashing lights reflecting off the polished metal of its circular platform. Jisung smirks, tugging at his silver chains as he steps forward, his black button-up fluttering slightly in the sea breeze. “Alright, let’s do this,” he says, his confidence unmistakable as he adjusts the sleeves of his shirt, tattoos coiling down his arms catching the light.

“God, I hope you puke,” Changbin mutters from the sidelines, leaning against the railing with a half-empty soda in one hand. Beside him, Chan lets out a loud laugh.

“Bold of you to assume Jisung has anything left in his stomach,” Chan retorts.

“Fuck you, guys,” Jisung calls back without turning around, flipping them the bird over his shoulder. “You’re just jealous you’re not man enough for this ride.”

“Man enough?” Seungmin repeats, adjusting the ridiculous dick-shaped sunglasses still perched on his nose. “Bro, you’re the one who screamed on the log flume like it was a fucking horror movie.”

“THERE WAS WATER IN MY EYE,” Jisung shouts dramatically, throwing his arms in the air. Hyunjin doubles over laughing, his black hair nearly obscuring his face.

“Sure there was, drama queen,” Hyunjin teases. “Come on, let’s do this before Felix changes his mind.”

“I’m not changing my mind!” Felix protests, his voice indignant. His usual confidence wavers slightly under Minho’s amused smirk. “It’s just a ride, right? No big deal.”

“Right,” Minho says smoothly, patting Felix on the back. “And if you scream, I’ll still think you’re cute.”

Felix flushes deep red, stammering, “I- Shut up, Minho!”

They climb onto the ride, the four of them sliding into seats along the circular edge, gripping the bar behind them for balance. The operator, a middle-aged man with a mischievous grin, grabs the microphone and leans into it. “Welcome to disco pang pang! You ready to scream?”

The crowd cheers, and the speakers crackle again. “Alright, let’s start with a question: who’s single?”

Hyunjin, Felix, Minho, and Jisung raise their hands without hesitation, drawing immediate hoots and whistles from the onlookers.

Across the platform, your friend Jennie snickers and grabs your hand, thrusting it into the air. “Y/N’s single too!” she calls out, her Snow White outfit glittering under the lights.

Lisa, dressed as Cinderella, grabs Rose’s hand and does the same. “Rose is single too!”

The operator laughs, the mic amplifying his voice. “Alright, looks like we’ve got options. You four guys. Who’s best suited for Sleeping Beauty over there?” He points directly at you, your pink outfit shimmering under the ride’s lights.

Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix immediately point at Jisung, who raises an eyebrow and smirks, tilting his head. “Guess it’s unanimous,” he quips.

Minho holds up his hands. “We’re gay. No girls for us.”

Felix nods, backing him up. “None. At all.”

The operator chuckles. “Fair enough. What about Elsa, then?” He gestures toward Rose, her platinum-blonde wig catching the light.

“I’ll take that one,” Hyunjin says confidently, raising his hand with a grin.

“Alright, let’s spin!” The operator starts the ride with a sudden jolt, and the platform lurches into motion.

The ride spins and bounces, the centrifugal force sending everyone sliding against the edges, laughter and shouts filling the air. You grip the bar behind you tightly, but the ride jerks again, and suddenly your grip slips.

“Shit!” you exclaim, sliding uncontrollably toward the middle.

Jisung notices instantly, his dark eyes locking onto you as you skid along the platform. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters, reaching out instinctively with one hand while keeping the other firmly on the bar.

Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix all stretch out their hands to help too, but Jisung’s reflexes are faster. His fingers close around your wrist, and he yanks you up onto your feet just as the ride jolts again.

The force sends you sprawling. Straight into Jisung’s lap.

“Holy shit,” Jisung mutters, one arm wrapping around your waist instinctively to keep you steady. The scorpion tattoo on his neck is close enough to brush against your temple, his breath warm against your ear. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you reply calmly, despite the chaos. Your voice is soft, unfazed, as if crashing into a stranger’s lap is just another day at the amusement park.

The operator’s voice booms over the speakers, laughter in his tone. “Hold the pretty girl, Romeo!”

Jennie, Lisa, Jisoo, and Rose dissolve into howls of laughter from their seats. “Oh my god, Y/N!” Jennie screams. “You’re fucking killing me!”

The ride jerks again, and you slip slightly, but Jisung’s grip tightens, one hand still braced on the bar. “I got you,” he says smoothly, his flirty smirk returning. “Guess you’re stuck with me now.”

Minho, Felix, and Hyunjin are practically crying with laughter. “Hold her tight, Romeo!” Minho repeats through his cackling.

Felix wipes tears from his eyes. “This is fucking gold.”

The ride jerks and spins, the platform hurtling through the air with each twist, each violent lurch making Jisung grip the bar tighter. He’s barely aware of the ride itself anymore; all his focus is on you. How you’re pressed against him, your body bouncing in his lap with every sudden movement. Every jolt sends another wave of heat through him, but he has to fight it.

"Fuck," Jisung mutters under his breath, trying to keep his composure. His arm, locked securely around your waist, pulls you closer each time the ride moves. His other hand is wrapped around the bar, knuckles white from the strain of holding on. He’s trying so hard not to let his body betray him.

Your pink dress shifts with each bounce, and Jisung can feel the fabric sliding against his leg as you move in his lap. His teeth dig into his lower lip, and his mind goes to desperate places. Thinking about his grandma, his fucking grandma, just to keep things in check.

"Hold the bar, Romeo!" the operator calls out, his voice booming through the speakers, and Jisung does just that, holding on for dear life, trying not to think about how soft you feel against him, how your warmth makes his pulse quicken.

You don’t seem to be bothered by the closeness at all. Your face, calm and composed, doesn’t show any sign of embarrassment, even as you slide up and down in his lap with every turn of the ride. You’re so fucking graceful, even in the chaos, and Jisung can’t help but admire it, hell, he’s pretty sure he's never been this close to a girl, and yet he doesn't feel like you're awkward or uncomfortable.

And fuck, you’re beautiful.

Just when Jisung thinks he’s going to lose his mind from the pressure of holding you so close, the ride jerks again, and this time, it’s more intense than before. The entire group of riders is thrown in every direction, and with one final violent lurch, Jisung and you are sent crashing to the floor of the ride.

"Shit!" Jisung grunts, barely keeping you from slamming face-first into the ground. But he can’t hold on, and you both end up sprawled on the floor, laughing despite the awkwardness of the situation.

Over in another corner, Minho and Felix aren’t faring much better. The ride has whipped them into a tangle of limbs, and for a moment, it looks like they’re trying to sort out who’s on top of who. Minho’s face is flushed, and Felix is doing everything he can to avoid making eye contact, his cheeks bright red as he tries to push himself up from the floor.

“Fucking hell,” Minho mutters, grinning at Felix’s red face as he struggles to get up. “You’re such a mess, Felix.”

“I- Shut up!” Felix huffs, pushing Minho off of him, his face an even deeper shade of pink now. He’s trying not to make eye contact with anyone, but the whole ride is practically howling with laughter at the scene.

"Fucking drama queens," Hyunjin laughs, his voice cutting through the noise. He’s sitting upright with a shit-eating grin, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

“Fucking hell, I’m never riding this shit again,” Felix mutters under his breath, pushing himself to his feet, but he can’t stop the wide smile creeping across his face.

“God, you’re cute when you’re embarrassed, Felix,” Minho teases again, his voice smooth, playful, and just a little too suggestive.

“Fuck you, Minho,” Felix responds, but it’s not harsh. More like an endearing complaint.

Meanwhile, Jisung and you are still trying to right yourselves, laughing as you both get to your feet.

"Fuck," Jisung says with a grin, giving you a quick glance. “That was a hell of a ride, huh?”

You blink at him silently, but the look in your eyes is enough to make Jisung’s grin widen. He’s about to say something else when the operator hits another switch, jerking the ride once again, this time sending you sliding back toward your friends, who are standing at the edge of the platform watching the chaos unfold.

But in a desperate attempt to keep her balance, you grab hold of Rose, your best friend, yanking her toward you for support.

“Ah!” Rose squeals, stumbling backwards. “What the hell, Y/N?” She tries to pull away, but it’s too late, she’s already tumbling, and in the blink of an eye, she’s crashing straight into Hyunjin.

“Whoa!” Hyunjin grins, his eyes sparkling as he catches Rose effortlessly in his arms. “Well, hello there, Elsa.”

Rose’s face is completely blank for a moment, her eyes wide and unblinking. She’s staring at Hyunjin like she’s seen a ghost, or, more likely, the most beautiful guy she’s ever seen in her life.

“Uh, hi,” Rose finally breathes, her voice soft, almost a whisper.

Hyunjin looks down at her, amused, and flashes a charming grin. “Did you enjoy the ride, Elsa?”

Rose, still dazed, can’t seem to get her words straight. “I- I... what?” Her voice is almost too quiet, like she's too stunned to respond properly. Hyunjin’s presence is doing something to her, something that has her blushing like a schoolgirl.

The other riders are howling with laughter, and the onlookers, who’ve gathered near the ride, are absolutely losing their shit at the sight of the tangled mess of limbs. Some of them are even filming, clearly thinking this will be some viral gold.

"You guys are a fucking mess," Jisung chuckles, eyes still focused on you as you try to regain your balance, laughing with your friends. “But seriously, Y/N, you okay?”

You nod, giving him a small smile, and Jisung can’t help but feel like his heart might just burst from the simple way you look at him. Calm, serene, unbothered by the chaos around you. He wishes he could just reach out and hold you, but the ride’s still going, and the operator’s having too much fun with his matchmaking antics.

“Hold tight, Romeo!” the operator shouts again, as if he can sense the tension in the air, the way Jisung is still holding onto the bar with one hand, his other arm around your waist, trying not to make things worse.

Jisung doesn't care anymore. He pulls you a little closer, his grip tightening slightly as the ride spins once more. He holds you like you belong in his arms, and he’s not about to let go anytime soon.

The laughter from the other riders continues, but for Jisung, everything seems to quiet down except for the rhythm of your breath, the steady beat of his heart, and the way you’ve become the centre of his world, even if just for this one insane moment.

And fuck, he doesn’t want it to end.

The boys regroup by a nearby bench under the flickering lights of the boardwalk, the salty ocean air mixing with the sweetness of funnel cakes and fried snacks. Jisung, Felix, Hyunjin, and Minho look like they’ve just survived a small war, their hair tousled, shirts rumpled, and faces still flushed from the chaos of the ride.

“How you all feeling?” Chan asks, grinning as he leans back against the bench, arms crossed. His blue hair catches the light, giving him an almost ethereal glow.

“Me and Minho got real up close and personal,” Felix says, dragging a hand through his blonde hair, his freckled cheeks pinker than usual.

Minho doesn’t miss a beat, wiggling his eyebrows with a shit-eating grin. “Didn’t know you were so flexible, Lix.”

Felix groans, but the faint smile tugging at his lips betrays him. “You’re such an asshole.”

Changbin snorts, sipping from a soda cup. “You two should just fuck already. The tension’s killing the rest of us.”

Felix sputters, his face going beet red, but Minho only smirks wider, clearly enjoying the teasing. “What can I say? I’ve got that effect on people.”

Seungmin pushes his ridiculous sunglasses up his nose and deadpans, “Your effect is that you’re unbearable.”

“Love you too, Minnie,” Minho quips, blowing him a kiss.

Jisung, leaning casually against the railing, suddenly grins, his gaze drifting over the boardwalk. “I’m in love.”

Hyunjin, brushing nonexistent lint off his shirt, chimes in with a dreamy sigh. “Same.”

The group collectively turns to look where the two are staring. Across the boardwalk, you and Rose are arm in arm, laughing with Jennie, Jisoo, and Lisa as you wait at a stall for alcoholic slushies. Your cherry-red hair gleams under the lights, and your pink dress clings perfectly to your frame as you lean into Rose, whispering something that makes her giggle.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Jeongin mutters, following their line of sight. “Kappa girls?”

Chan groans, running a hand down his face. “Oh, no. Not Kappa girls. Theta Tau has already laid claim on them. You wanna start a frat brawl?”

Hyunjin shrugs, unbothered, his black hair falling into his eyes. “Theta Tau can suck my dick.”

“Pretty sure they’d need instructions first,” Jisung adds, smirking. His eyes flick back to you, the edges of his mouth curling further. “Besides, they can’t lay claim on people. Sleeping Beauty over there?” He gestures toward you with his chin. “I’m gonna woo the shit out of her.”

Hyunjin raises his hand lazily. “And Elsa? She’s mine.”

Seungmin snickers. “You two are dead men walking.”

“You think I’m scared of those Theta Tau pricks?” Jisung scoffs, pushing off the railing and brushing off his shirt. “They can try all they want. I’ll sweep her off her feet.”

Hyunjin, ever the picture of elegance even in chaos, flips his hair dramatically. “Same goes for Rose. She’s a vision. Theta Tau can’t compete with this.” He gestures to himself with a flourish.

Chan sighs heavily, though his lips twitch with amusement. “You guys are insane. Theta Tau isn’t going to like this.”

“Who gives a fuck what they like?” Minho drawls, his voice dripping with disdain. He pops a fry into his mouth before continuing, “Theta Tau can lick my balls after practice. Everyone knows we’re the better frat anyway.”

Changbin nods in agreement, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, they’re all talk and no action. Bunch of little bitches.”

“They won’t dare face us in a fight,” Minho continues, crossing his arms. “I say we help our boys land their princesses.”

Chan’s expression shifts, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “Then count me in. I’ve had my eye on Jennie Kim for months.”

Seungmin snorts. “This is shaping up to be a disaster.”

“Or a fucking masterpiece,” Jisung counters, his grin wide as he leans against the railing again, his dark eyes fixed on you. You’re sipping your bright pink slush, your laugh carrying across the boardwalk as Jennie clinks her drink against yours. “Either way, Sleeping Beauty’s gonna know my name by the end of the night.”

Hyunjin nudges him playfully. “Just don’t fuck it up.”

“Please,” Jisung replies, tossing his hair back dramatically. “When have I ever fucked up?”

The group exchanges knowing glances, bursting into laughter.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jisung groans, though his grin never wavers. His eyes flick back to you, watching as you and Rose wander off with your group, arm in arm. “Seriously, though. I’m calling it now, she’s gonna be my girlfriend, maybe even my wife.”

The living room of the Alpha Phi frat house is a cacophony of noise and heat, the oppressive summer weather turning the place into a makeshift sauna. Ceiling fans spin lazily overhead, providing little relief as the guys lounge on mismatched couches and beanbags, their laughter echoing off the old wooden walls. The room smells faintly of sweat, soda, and the faint sweetness of Felix’s strawberry tanghulu, the sticky glaze glinting in the sunlight streaming through the large bay windows.

“Alright, assholes,” Jisung calls out, clapping his hands together as he strides into the room. He’s wearing only a pair of black shorts, leaving his heavily tattooed torso fully on display. “Everyone shut the fuck up and pay attention. We’re about to change lives here.”

“By lives, he means his own,” Changbin mutters, lounging in a beanbag chair as he scrolls on his phone. “Or maybe ruin them.”

“Shut up, Binnie,” Hyunjin says, striding in behind Jisung, his laptop tucked under one arm. He looks as immaculate as ever despite the heat, his long black hair pulled back into a loose bun that somehow only adds to his annoyingly perfect features. “You’re going to thank us when this works.”

“If it works,” Jeongin adds from his spot on the couch, raising an eyebrow. He’s fanning himself lazily with a notebook, his legs draped over the armrest.

“It’ll fucking work,” Chan says, entering last with a determined look. His short blue hair is damp from a recent shower, and his sleeveless shirt reveals the toned muscles that only add to his already intimidating presence. “We’ve got a plan.”

“A stupid plan,” Seungmin mutters, adjusting his position in the chair he’s sprawled in. “But whatever. Let’s see it.”

Felix is curled up next to Minho on the couch, his head resting on Minho’s shoulder as he eats his tanghulu one sticky bite at a time. Minho has one arm draped casually around him, and the sight draws a few knowing smirks from the others, though no one comments. Felix doesn’t even bother looking up. “This better be worth it. It’s fucking boiling in here.”

Hyunjin plugs his laptop into the TV, and the screen flashes to life, displaying the opening slide of their PowerPoint: “Mission Princess: How to Woo and Not Fuck It Up.”

“Gentlemen,” Hyunjin begins, standing dramatically in front of the TV. “We have prepared a step-by-step presentation on how to win the hearts of our respective princesses.”

Jisung nods, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the back of the couch. “That’s right. Last night, we did some cyberstalking- sorry, research- on our ladies. Y/N, Rose, and Jennie. Criminal law students and a forensic science major. They’re smart as hell, and we’re dumb as fuck, so we’ve got some catching up to do.”

Jeongin snorts. “Finally some self-awareness.”

“Shut it, you little shit,” Jisung fires back, flipping him off.

Hyunjin clicks to the next slide, which reads in bold letters: “Step 1: Get to Know Them.” Beneath it are three subsections, each with a ridiculous photoshopped picture of the Alpha Phi members standing in for the women they’re talking about. For Jennie, there’s Chan wearing a wig and holding a coffee cup. For Rose, it’s Hyunjin in a blue cardigan with a fake rose in his hand. And for Y/N, it’s Jisung in a sparkly pink dress and platform boots.

The room bursts into laughter.

“What the fuck is that?” Changbin howls, pointing at the screen. “Jisung, you look like a rejected K-pop trainee.”

“It’s called commitment, bitch,” Jisung replies with a smirk. “Now shut up and let me do my part.”

Hyunjin gestures for him to take the stage. Jisung pushes off the couch and stands in front of the screen, tapping the slide with a finger. “Alright, listen up, assholes. Y/N is a criminal law student. She’s smart as fuck, probably smarter than all of us combined, so don’t even try to bullshit her. She likes romantic poetry and she wears a lot of pink.” He grins, gesturing to his photoshopped picture. “Obviously, she’s got taste.”

“Obviously,” Seungmin mutters under his breath.

“Your turn, Hyunjin,” Jisung says, stepping aside.

Hyunjin clicks to the next subsection and steps forward, gesturing dramatically to the screen. “Rose. Also a criminal law student. She’s into art galleries, which means she has class, unlike some of you heathens.” He shoots a pointed look at Changbin, who flips him off without hesitation. “And she’s from New Zealand. She’s got that accent, you know, the kind that makes everything sound sexy.”

“That explains why you’re so into her,” Felix teases from Minho’s shoulder.

Hyunjin ignores him and motions to Chan. “Take it away.”

Chan clicks to the final subsection, where his own ridiculous photoshopped picture stares back at him. “Jennie,” he begins, his voice serious. “Forensic science major. Wicked smart. In her free time, she releases music. Also drinks coffee like it’s fucking crack, which, same. So, obviously, we’re perfect for each other.”

“Sure you are,” Minho quips, grinning. “And I’m the Pope.”

Chan ignores him and clicks to the next slide, which shows a bullet-pointed plan for the next steps. It’s completely absurd, involving things like “accidentally” running into the girls at their favourite café and “strategically” inviting them to Alpha Phi parties.

“You realize this is fucking insane, right?” Jeongin says, shaking his head as he glances at the screen. “This isn’t a plan. It’s a shitshow waiting to happen.”

“Shut up, Jeongin,” Jisung says, crossing his arms. “This is how legends are made.”

“And how restraining orders are filed,” Seungmin mutters, earning a snicker from Felix.

“Whatever,” Jisung says, ignoring the laughter. “We’re doing this. We’re gonna woo the shit out of these girls. And when we succeed, you’re all gonna eat your words.”

“Or just eat shit,” Changbin adds with a grin.

Jisung’s grin widens. “Either way, it’s gonna be a fucking masterpiece.”

Hyunjin clicks to the next slide and the words “Q&A Section: Don’t Be Dumbasses” flash across the screen in bold neon lettering, surrounded by a ridiculous cartoon of a brain with arms shrugging dramatically. The room erupts into laughter, and Hyunjin raises his hands for quiet.

“Alright, shut up,” he says, trying to sound authoritative but failing as his lips twitch into a grin. “We figured some of you would have questions because, let’s be real, half of you have the romantic instincts of a wet mop.”

Changbin leans back in his beanbag chair, raising his hand lazily. “Yeah, I’ve got one. What the fuck are you gonna do if this whole plan backfires, and they think you’re creepy instead of charming?”

Chan snorts. “First of all, fuck you for your lack of faith, Binnie. Second, it’s all about execution. We’re not just sliding into their lives uninvited. We’re creating opportunities for organic connections.”

“Organic?” Seungmin repeats, raising an eyebrow. “You mean like how stalking their social media last night was ‘organic’?”

Jisung waves a hand dismissively. “That was reconnaissance. Don’t make it weird.”

“It’s already weird,” Jeongin says, snickering. “Anyway, what’s the backup plan if they straight-up reject you?”

“Then we die of heartbreak,” Hyunjin says dramatically, clutching his chest. “But it won’t happen because we’re hot.”

“You’re hot,” Felix mutters, stuffing another piece of tanghulu into his mouth. “Can’t say the same for everyone here.”

“Rude,” Jisung deadpans, gesturing to himself. “Look at me. I’m a fucking work of art.”

“You’re a work of something,” Minho says, smirking. “Anyway, serious question: what if Theta Tau finds out and starts shit? You know they’re territorial as fuck.”

Chan crosses his arms, his expression hardening. “We’re ready for that. In fact...” He gestures to Hyunjin, who clicks to the next slide. The words “Battle Plan for Theta Tau” flash across the screen, accompanied by an overly dramatic image of the Alpha Phi crest.

The entire room bursts into laughter.

“The plan is literally just to beat them up?” Felix asks, pointing at the screen, where the only strategy listed reads: 1. Fight them. 2. Beat them up.

“It’s a classic,” Jisung says, shrugging nonchalantly. “Why complicate things?”

“You do realize this isn’t Game of Thrones, right?” Jeongin asks, rolling his eyes. “You can’t just fight them for dominance.”

“Sure we can,” Changbin says, cracking his knuckles. “They’re all bark and no bite. It’d be over in five minutes.”

“Or it’d escalate into a full-on frat war,” Seungmin mutters, clearly unimpressed. “But hey, whatever keeps you entertained.”

Hyunjin clears his throat. “Let’s focus on the actual goal here, which is wooing our princesses. Any other questions?”

Felix raises his hand, his tone uncharacteristically uncertain. “What happens if, you know, they’re not into it? Like, what if they’re already seeing someone?”

Jisung leans forward, resting his hands on his knees. “Then we play it cool. Back off and respect their boundaries. But that’s not gonna happen because I’m telling you, Sleeping Beauty looked at me like I was her goddamn Prince Charming.”

“You mean she fell into your lap because of a ride,” Jeongin says, grinning.

“Details,” Jisung says, waving him off. “Any other dumbass questions?”

When no one speaks up, Hyunjin clicks to the next slide, which reads: “Pitch Your Ideas” in obnoxiously bright colours. He gestures to the group. “This is your chance to contribute. Any brilliant ideas?”

Minho is the first to speak, leaning back with a lazy smirk. “You could accidentally spill coffee on them and offer to buy them a new one. Classic rom-com move.”

“That’s a shit idea,” Changbin says immediately. “What if they get pissed and throw it back in your face?”

Minho shrugs. “Then at least you’ll smell like coffee.”

Felix perks up. “What about leaving them anonymous notes? Like, romantic ones. Poetry and shit.”

“That’s creepy,” Seungmin says flatly. “They’d think they have a stalker.”

“You mean like what they already are?” Jeongin quips, earning a round of laughter.

“Okay, genius,” Felix says, glaring at Seungmin. “What’s your idea?”

“Don’t have one,” Seungmin replies, smirking. “I’m just here to watch the train wreck.”

Jisung groans, running a hand through his hair. “You’re all useless. From the data gathered, it’s clear none of us are experts in dating women long-term.”

“Felix and I are gay,” Minho says, raising his hand like a student answering a question. “We tried our best.”

Jisung snaps his fingers. “You two could befriend them. Girls love the gays.”

Felix tilts his head, considering this. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

Minho nods slowly. “Yeah, we could be the friendly middlemen. Butter them up a little.”

“That’s the spirit,” Jisung says, clapping his hands together. “See? Teamwork makes the dream work.”

Hyunjin clicks to the next slide, which features a crudely drawn diagram of a heart surrounded by arrows labelled with absurd strategies like “be charming as fuck,” “don’t trip over your own dick,” and “look hot at all times.”

“This is our roadmap to success,” Hyunjin says, dead serious despite the ridiculousness of the slide. “If we stick to the plan, there’s no way we can fail.”

“No way you can fail,” Seungmin corrects. “The rest of us are just here for moral support.”

“Or to clean up the mess when this goes to shit,” Jeongin adds, grinning.

Chan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, let’s wrap this up. We’ve got work to do.”

“And princesses to woo,” Jisung adds, his confident grin lighting up the room. Despite the chaos, the fire in his eyes makes it clear he’s all in and nothing’s going to stop him.

The warm glow of Jennie’s room in the Kappa Tau sorority house feels like a cosy bubble away from the chaos of campus life. The soft hum of 90 Day Fiance plays in the background, the ridiculous drama on-screen prompting bursts of laughter from the girls lounging around the room. It smells faintly of vanilla candles, wine, and the comforting sweetness of melting ice cream.

Jennie’s room is the epitome of comfort and indulgence. Fairy lights strung around the walls cast a golden glow over plush rugs and mismatched pillows. Her large hanging swing chair is padded with layers of cushions and blankets, where you and Rose are curled up together. Both of you wear matching pastel pink silk robes, your hair clipped back in messy buns, and snail sheet masks clinging to your faces.

“This is the best idea ever,” Lisa says, her voice muffled through her own mask as she leans against the bed, spooning rocky road ice cream out of the pint. Her long legs are stretched out in front of her, the silky fabric of her light blue robe shimmering under the lights. “Wine, ice cream, and trash TV? Literal heaven.”

“Literal trash too,” Jisoo retorts from her spot on the floor, cross-legged with a glass of rosé in one hand and a pint of mint chocolate chip in the other. She pushes her own robe sleeve, emerald green, up her arm, careful not to spill her wine. “But, I mean, who are we kidding? This show is iconic.”

“You just like watching other people’s relationships implode,” Jennie teases from the bed, lounging with one arm draped over Felix, who is wearing a lavender robe like he’s been part of this group his whole life. Minho is stretched out on the chaise in a black silk robe, one arm resting lazily on the back, smirking as if he too has always belonged in this little sorority circle.

Felix chuckles, his freckles crinkling as he spoons some ice cream into his mouth. “I mean, she’s not wrong. It’s like watching a train wreck you can’t look away from.”

“Speaking of train wrecks,” Minho begins, his grin widening as he sets down his wine glass. “Did you hear about that cheerleader on the squad? Chloe? Apparently, she got caught going down on the gymnastics coach under the bleachers.”

“No fucking way,” Lisa gasps, sitting up straighter and nearly knocking her ice cream over.

“It’s true,” Felix says, nodding with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Word’s all over campus. Someone filmed it. She got suspended, and the coach might lose his job.”

Jennie lets out a low whistle, swirling her wine glass. “How do people even get themselves into situations like that? Like, the bleachers? Really?”

“People are just nasty,” Jisoo says, shaking her head as she takes another spoonful of ice cream. “I mean, couldn’t she wait until she's, I don’t know, not a public fucking place?”

Rose giggles softly from beside you, her head resting lightly against your shoulder. “That’s so wild. I don’t even know how she thought she wouldn’t get caught.”

“Desperate people don’t think straight,” Minho says with a smirk. “Or maybe she just really likes the thrill of getting caught.”

Lisa throws a pillow at him. “You’re gross.”

He dodges it with a laugh. “Hey, just saying. Different strokes for different folks.”

Felix shakes his head, grinning. “You’re the worst, Minho.”

From your spot in the swing chair, you speak up quietly, your voice soft but full of curiosity. “Do you think she regrets it? Or do you think she’s just embarrassed because she got caught?”

The room falls quiet for a moment as everyone processes your question.

“Honestly,” Rose says, her voice gentle, “she’s probably just overwhelmed. I mean, it’s bad enough making a mistake, but having it become a campus-wide scandal must be horrible.”

“That’s so you, Y/N,” Jennie says with a fond smile, leaning back on the bed. “Always finding a way to sympathize with someone. You’re too good for this world.”

Lisa nods. “Yeah, if it were me, I’d be mortified but also probably pissed as hell. Like, why’s everyone so nosy?”

Jisoo shrugs. “Because drama is free entertainment.”

Jennie laughs. “You’re a menace, Jisoo.”

Felix, ever the peacemaker, adds, “Still, she didn’t deserve to have her business put on blast like that. People can be so cruel.”

“True,” Minho says, surprisingly serious for once. “But let’s not act like she didn’t bring at least some of it on herself.”

Jennie raises her wine glass. “Here’s to not giving head under bleachers.”

The group laughs, clinking glasses and pints together in mock celebration.

Rose squeezes your hand gently, a small smile on her face. “You’d never get caught up in something like that,” she says softly. “You’re too smart.”

“Neither would you.”

“Yeah, because you two are fucking angels,” Lisa says, rolling her eyes. “That’s why we have to protect you.”

Jennie nods, her tone teasing but affectionate. “We’re your big sisters. No one’s messing with our sweethearts.”

“Not on our watch,” Jisoo adds, raising her spoon like a weapon.

Minho and Felix exchange a glance, and Minho smirks. “Guess we’re part of the protective circle now, huh?”

Jennie narrows her eyes playfully. “We’ll see. You have to earn it.”

Felix leans into her, fluttering his lashes dramatically. “Have I not earned it already?”

Jennie laughs, ruffling his hair, before she glances at you and Rose curled up in the swing chair. Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “You two ready for your great love stories to kick off?” 

Rose lifts her head from your shoulder, her cheeks pink, though whether it’s from the wine or embarrassment is unclear. “It was just a bit,” she says quickly, though the soft hesitation in her voice betrays her uncertainty.

You nod along, keeping your expression neutral. “Right, just a funny little moment.”

Lisa, sprawled out on the floor with her second pint of ice cream, snorts loudly. “No, no. Those two Alpha Phi boys are into the two of you. Big time. It’s not just a ‘moment,’ babes.”

Rose’s face heats further, and she buries her face in her hands with a groan. “Oh my god, stop.”

Jisoo smirks, her gaze flicking between the two of you like a cat toying with its prey. “They’re not just into you. They’re in love. I’m calling it now.”

Minho, perched on the chaise like he owns the place, raises a hand lazily. “Can confirm.”

Felix, snuggled next to him, nods enthusiastically. “Super interested. Like, they won’t shut up about it.”

Rose sits up straighter, her wide eyes darting to you. Before either of you can respond, Jennie leans forward, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “Are you two interested? Be honest.”

You and Rose exchange a panicked glance before simultaneously picking up the wine bottle on the nearby table. You tip it slightly, squinting at the label like it holds the secrets of the universe. “Oh, wow, fermented,” you say, nodding like a sommelier. “Uh-huh. Grapes. Cool.”

Rose nods along vigorously. “Yeah, so fascinating. It’s aged! Love that. Great stuff.”

Lisa bursts into laughter, clutching her stomach as she doubles over. “Holy shit, you two are so bad at this.”

“Seriously,” Jennie adds, her voice full of exasperated fondness. “It’s okay to admit you’re at least curious.”

Rose sets the bottle down, avoiding everyone’s gaze. “What about Theta Tau?” she asks hesitantly. “You know what they’re like.”

At the mention of the rival fraternity, Jennie’s playful smile vanishes, replaced by a steely determination. “I’m not afraid to smack a dickhead Theta boy if he starts shit.”

Lisa, Minho, Felix, and Jisoo all nod in agreement, their expressions mirroring Jennie’s resolve.

“They’re all talk anyway,” Minho says, rolling his eyes. “Big egos, no guts. I’d pay to see one of them try something.”

Felix grins. “Right? Jennie would take them out before they even got a word in.”

You shake your head, your quiet voice cutting through the heated energy. “No, seriously, guys. Rose and I can’t handle confrontation or tension. Like, at all.”

Rose nods emphatically, her soft voice chiming in. “We’ll stroke out. Full-on death by stress.”

Jennie’s expression softens slightly, her protective instincts kicking in. “Alright, alright. We’ll keep them in check. But you two don’t need to worry about Theta Tau. We’ve got your backs.”

You glance at Rose, who gives you a small smile. “Besides,” you add with a faint laugh, “don’t you like Chan?”

Jennie’s cheeks flush slightly, but she doesn’t miss a beat. “Yep,” she says with a smirk. “I’m just waiting for him to do something about it.”

Minho snorts loudly, his laughter filling the room. “Good fucking luck with that. Chan’s great at a lot of things, but making a move? Not one of them.”

“Hey, he’s getting there,” Felix chimes in, though even he sounds doubtful.

Jennie shrugs, leaning back against her pillows. “I’ve got time. But you two? Your boys are already making moves. You better be ready for what’s coming.”

The hallways of the criminal law department buzz with the usual post-lecture chatter as you and Rose step out of the classroom. The air feels heavy with the scent of old books and faint traces of someone’s too-strong cologne. You tug at the hem of your cropped lace-trim camisole, the pink and black leather racer jacket you’re wearing fitting snugly over your shoulders. Your messy bun is starting to come loose, strands of cherry-red hair brushing against your face as you adjust the strap of your bag.

“God, that lecture felt like it lasted ten fucking years,” Rose mutters, her voice tinged with exhaustion as she shifts her black leather jacket. She’s dressed in black baggy jeans, a white crop top, and chunky boots, her dark hair twisted into two neat buns that frame her face.

“Seriously,” you agree as you glance at her. “If Professor Kim said the words ‘precedent’ or ‘jurisprudence’ one more time, I think my brain would’ve shut down.”

Rose snorts, nudging you playfully. “You’re too polite to say it, but you were zoning out just as much as I was.”

You smile, your laugh blending with the bustling sounds of students moving through the hall. The two of you walk side by side, the weight of textbooks and notes pulling at your bags, when a loud voice rings out from down the corridor.

“Sleeping Beauty!”

You and Rose stop in your tracks, turning toward the sound. Down the hallway, Jisung and Hyunjin are approaching, their confident strides and undeniable presence turning more than a few heads. Jisung’s hair is tousled in that perfectly messy way that looks both effortless and intentional, his tattoos peeking out from under a fitted black shirt, his ripped jeans and combat boots giving him an edge that matches his cocky grin.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, looks ethereal. His black hair falls in loose waves around his sharp features, his long coat flowing slightly behind him as he walks. He looks like he’s stepped out of a magazine, his striking confidence tempered with a touch of artistry in the way he moves.

Jisung reaches you first, stopping just a step too close for comfort but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s electric. “This is for you,” he says, holding out a single pink rose. The petals shimmer faintly under the fluorescent lights, and you realize it’s fake.

You blink, momentarily stunned, and he winks at you. “Plastic doesn’t die,” he says, his tone teasing but soft. “Like my charm.”

Your cheeks heat up, but you manage a quiet, “Thank you,” as you take the rose.

Hyunjin, meanwhile, turns to Rose with a small, knowing smile. “And this is for you.” He hands her a white rose, the elegant simplicity of it mirroring the way he carries himself. “Something as timeless as you.”

Rose’s jaw drops slightly, but before she can respond, both boys turn on their heels, walking away with matching smirks.

“Did that just fucking happen?” Rose asks, still staring after them.

You look at the rose in your hand, the faint blush in your cheeks deepening. “I… think so?”

The two of you turn to look at each other, wide-eyed, before bursting into laughter. Without a word, you lift your hands for a high five, the sharp clap echoing down the hall as your giggles fill the space.

Rose, still grinning, tucks the white rose into one of her buns, the delicate petals standing out against her dark hair. “It suits me, doesn’t it?” she asks, posing dramatically.

“Perfectly,” you reply with a smile, sliding the pink rose into your messy bun, securing it in place. “How do I look?”

“Adorable, as always,” Rose says, nudging your shoulder lightly.

As the two of you start walking again, Rose’s smile softens into something more thoughtful. “Maybe we really will have great love stories,” she muses. “I mean, did you see Hyunjin? He looked like a fucking dream.”

You chuckle quietly, glancing down at the rose in your hand before slipping it into your hair. “Jisung’s tattoos, I like a man with tattoos.”

Rose laughs, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Reckon Hyunjin will paint me? Either make me a portrait or paint my skin. I don’t mind either way.”

You laugh along with her, the sound light and carefree. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he offered. He seems the type to do something dramatic like that.”

Rose sighs dreamily, her expression wistful. “Well, if this is the start of a great love story, I’m not complaining.”

You nod, your smile soft. “Me neither.”

The two of you exit the building into the afternoon sun, the warmth on your skin mirroring the quiet excitement blooming in your chest. Whatever happens next, it feels like the start of something beautiful.

The sound of loud music and boisterous laughter fills the Alpha Phi frat house as the boys lounge in the living room. Empty snack wrappers and soda cans are scattered across the coffee table, and Changbin and Jeongin are locked in an intense game of Mario Kart on the big screen, shouting insults at each other with every near-miss.

“Jeongin, you little shit, stop spamming red shells!” Changbin yells, leaning forward on the couch like his life depends on it.

“It’s called strategy, old man,” Jeongin shoots back, grinning as his character zooms past Changbin’s on the final lap.

Jisung leans back in an armchair, shirtless as usual, a tattooed arm draped lazily over the armrest. “Binnie’s gonna cry again. Somebody get a tissue.”

“Fuck off, Sung,” Changbin grumbles, his eyes glued to the screen.

Before anyone can respond, there’s a knock at the door, sharp and deliberate. Chan, who’s been scrolling on his phone from the other couch, groans but gets up to answer it.

“What now?” he mutters, pulling the door open.

Standing there are Jennie, Jisoo, and Lisa, each of them dressed casually but exuding the kind of confidence that instantly commands attention. Jennie crosses her arms, a sly smile on her face as she looks up at Chan.

“We’re here to help your two boys woo our two girls,” she announces without preamble. “Y/N and Rose are watching some true crime doc and drinking wine, so we decided to come here.”

Chan blinks, momentarily taken aback, before stepping aside. “Uh, come in.”

Jennie strides in like she owns the place, Lisa and Jisoo following close behind. They make their way into the living room, where the boys look up from their various positions, confusion written all over their faces.

“Why the fuck are you here?” Hyunjin asks, raising an eyebrow as he adjusts his ponytail.

Jennie ignores him, pulling a folded piece of paper from her bag and holding it up like a declaration of war. “We have a plan. A carwash fundraiser for students with learning disabilities. Girls will be in bikini tops and shorts. Guys in just swimming trunks. Stereotypical as hell, but effective.”

“Wait, what?” Jisung sits up straighter, his eyebrows shooting up. “Why are we-?”

“Because,” Jennie interrupts, her tone sharp, “this is important to Y/N and Rose. Rose has dyscalculia, and Y/N has dyslexia. This fundraiser actually matters to them, so you two are going to be there.”

Jisung glances at Hyunjin, who nods without hesitation. “Of course, we’ll be there,” Hyunjin says simply, his tone resolute.

“Good,” Jennie smirks, satisfied, before tossing the flyer onto the coffee table.

The room falls silent for a moment as the boys process what’s happening, but Jennie isn’t done. “Actually, you’re all going to be there,” she says, her gaze sweeping the room. “Every single one of you.”

“Do we have a choice?” Seungmin asks dryly, not even looking up from his phone.

“Nope.” Jisoo grins, pulling a clipboard from behind her back and handing it to Chan. “Sign your names, boys.”

Chan sighs but takes the pen, scribbling his name at the top before passing it to Minho. “This better be worth it.”

“It will be,” Jennie says with certainty.

As the clipboard makes its way around the room, Lisa crosses her arms and leans against the wall. “Think sexy,” she says, her tone casual but firm. “Oil yourselves up or something. We need to make this fundraiser a success.”

Minho smirks as he scribbles his name down. Without missing a beat, he turns to Felix, who’s sitting beside him. “You gonna oil me up, Lix?”

Felix blinks rapidly, his freckles darkening as his cheeks flush bright red. He opens his mouth, but no words come out, and he looks like a fish gasping for air.

The room erupts in laughter, and Felix buries his face in his hands. “Minho, you’re the fucking worst.”

Minho grins, unfazed. “Love you too.”

Jennie clears her throat, cutting through the chaos. “Now, let’s talk about Theta Tau.”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “Those moronic, douchey frat boys think they have some kind of claim on us.”

Jennie’s gaze sharpens as she turns to Chan, her smile turning into a smirk. “Must be why you haven’t asked me on a date, Bang Chan.”

Chan’s jaw drops slightly, his confident demeanour faltering as he gapes at her. “I- What?”

The room goes silent for a beat before the boys start snickering. Jisung covers his mouth with his hand, but his eyes gleam with amusement. Jeongin outright cackles, earning a swat from Changbin.

“Shit, you’re whipped,” Minho says, his grin wicked.

Chan stammers, trying to find the words, but Jennie doesn’t wait for an answer. “You better figure it out,” she says, her tone teasing but firm. “The ball’s in your court.”

The rest of the meeting devolves into playful chaos as the Kappa Tau girls finalize their plans, leaving the Alpha Phi boys no choice but to follow along. The challenge has been set, and the stakes have never been higher.

The sun is merciless, beating down on the campus parking lot where a row of cars glint under its rays, each awaiting its turn to be scrubbed down. Early 2000s music pumps through portable speakers, adding a nostalgic rhythm to the chaotic scene. A faint scent of soapy water hangs in the air, mixing with the tang of sunscreen and the occasional whiff of hot asphalt.

Jisung adjusts the waistband of his black shorts, the only thing he’s wearing aside from his sneakers. His tattooed skin glistens faintly, a sheen of sweat already forming as he stands alongside the other Alpha Phi boys. The tattoo that spells rockstar snakes boldly down his ribs to his hip, catching the sunlight. Across his right pec, the word BLESSED is inked above a compass, while his falling Icarus tattoo stretches across his left thigh. His right leg is a patchwork of intricate designs, and the sword running down his spine, encircled by a dragon, is an attention-grabber for anyone passing by. The scorpion tattoo on his neck adds an edge that suits his cocky grin as he surveys the scene.

“Hot as balls out here,” Changbin mutters, wiping sweat from his brow. His shorts sit low on his hips, revealing his abs. “I’m sweating like I ran a fucking marathon.”

“Stop bitching,” Minho says, grinning as he elbows Changbin. “It’s for a good cause.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jeongin chimes in, snapping the waistband of his own shorts. “Let’s just get this over with before we all melt.”

Jisung barely hears them, his attention snapping to a splash of pink and white near the centre of the lot. There you are, standing with Rose near a car dripping with suds, both of you laughing as you flick water at each other with the tips of your sponges. 

You’re wearing a pink bikini top tied behind your neck, the knot accentuating the curve of your shoulders, and white denim shorts that sit snugly on your hips. Your hair is pulled into a messy ponytail, a few loose strands sticking to your cheeks. When you turn slightly, Jisung catches sight of a tattoo at the base of your lower back, divine, written in elegant script. Above it, angel wing tattoos span your shoulder blades, the design subtle yet striking.

Jisung feels his chest tighten, the heat of the sun nothing compared to the warmth spreading through him as he watches you laugh. Rose, standing beside you in a black bikini top and ripped jean shorts, flicks water at your legs, and your high-pitched giggle sends his stomach into free fall.

“Yo, Sung,” Hyunjin says, nudging him out of his trance. “You’re staring.”

“Shut up,” Jisung mutters, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips.

Felix and Minho have already wandered off to tackle a car together, Felix’s freckled face glowing under the sun as he balances a bucket of soapy water. Jennie bounces over to Chan, her bright smile causing him to straighten up almost immediately. She gestures toward a car, and the two head off, falling into an easy rhythm as they start scrubbing.

“Looks like everyone’s pairing up,” Hyunjin says, his voice lilting as he glances at Rose and you. “Guess we better make ourselves useful.”

As if on cue, you and Rose wave them over, your smiles soft and inviting. Jisoo, standing near the speaker, grins mischievously as she changes the song to My House by 2PM. The sensual beat pulses through the air, and Jisung can’t help but smirk.

“Perfect timing,” he says, tugging at the strap of a nearby bucket as he and Hyunjin head your way.

Rose points to a car beside her, her voice teasing but sweet. “Think you two can handle this one?”

“Easily,” Hyunjin replies, grabbing a sponge with a dramatic flourish. “Watch and learn, ladies.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head as you hand Jisung a hose. “Try not to flood the parking lot.”

“No promises,” Jisung says, taking it from you with a wink. His fingers brush yours briefly, and the contact sends a spark up his arm. He busies himself with the hose, aiming a spray of water at the car as you and Rose start scrubbing the windows.

Hyunjin crouches beside Rose, dunking his sponge into the bucket with a flourish before smearing suds dramatically across the side of the car. “I call this my masterpiece,” he declares, his voice dripping with faux seriousness.

Rose giggles, flicking water at him. “Your masterpiece looks like a toddler went crazy with finger paint.”

Jisung glances at you as you scrub the hood of the car, your movements slow and deliberate. The curve of your back as you reach forward exposes the intricate detail of your angel wing tattoos, and he swallows hard, trying to focus on his task.

“So, Sleeping Beauty,” he says, his tone casual but his grin mischievous. “When do I get my happily ever after?”

You glance up at him, your eyes bright with amusement. “That depends. Are you planning on falling asleep for a hundred years first?”

Hyunjin cackles from the other side of the car. “She got you there, Sung.”

Jisung chuckles, shaking his head. “Fair enough.” He tilts the hose slightly, spraying a light mist toward you, and you let out a soft squeal as the water splashes your legs.

“Hey!” you protest, though your voice is more laughter than anger.

“Just keeping you cool,” Jisung says with a smirk.

As the hours tick by, the heat of the sun bears down, softened only by the tangy-sweet cocktails Lisa mixes at her makeshift bar. You and Jisung stand by the next car in line, sipping drinks from plastic cups with colourful straws. Yours is a strawberry daiquiri, bright pink and refreshingly cold, while Jisung’s lime-green mojito matches the mischievous glint in his eye.

“I gotta say,” Jisung says, leaning casually against the car as he takes another sip, “Lisa might be onto something with these. Who knew cocktails and car washes went together so well?”

You laugh softly, wiping suds off your arm with a wet sponge. “Leave it to her to make everything feel like a party.”

The next car rolls in, a rusty sedan driven by an older man with a salt-and-pepper moustache and a questionable smirk. He rolls down the window as he pulls up, his eyes lingering on you a second too long.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” the man drawls, his tone sleazy. “Bet you make more tips than the other girls, sweetheart.”

Your smile falters slightly, but you recover quickly, brushing it off as you move toward the car. Jisung, however, freezes mid-sip, his dark eyes narrowing as the muscles in his jaw tighten.

“Don’t worry, sir,” you say gently, your voice soft but steady. “We’ll have your car spotless in no time.”

Jisung doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he picks up the hose, his grip firm as his thumb hovers over the nozzle. The man’s grin widens as he leans out of the window, his gaze still fixed on you.

“Hey,” Jisung says suddenly, his voice smooth but loud enough to cut through the awkward tension. “You’re parked a little close to the line. Mind adjusting?”

The man leans back slightly. “Oh, yeah? Didn’t notice-”

Before he can finish, Jisung accidentally squeezes the nozzle, sending a powerful stream of water directly into the man’s face.

“Oh shit!” Jisung exclaims, his voice filled with faux panic. “I’m so sorry! Didn’t mean to-”

The man sputters, waving his hands in front of his face as the water sprays relentlessly. “Hey! Watch where you’re aiming that thing!”

“Crap, sorry!” Jisung repeats, though there’s no real urgency in his tone. If anything, his smirk is barely concealed as he adjusts his grip to send another, even stronger burst of water into the man’s face. ��Must be something wrong with the hose- Ah, shit, it’s stuck!”

“Cut it out, kid!” the man huffs, wiping water from his moustache.

“Sorry, sir!” Jisung shouts, still trying to turn the hose off as he casually ups the pressure. The stream grows stronger, soaking the man’s shirt and the inside of the car door.

The commotion draws attention, and Jennie approaches with a raised eyebrow, her hands on her hips. “What’s going on here?”

The man gestures angrily, water dripping from his face and clothes. “This idiot’s hosing me down! I came for a car wash, not a goddamn shower!”

Jennie doesn’t miss a beat, her expression cool and professional despite the absurdity of the situation. “Sorry about that, sir. These hoses are college property. Government-funded, you know how it is. Sometimes they’re a bit temperamental.”

The man’s jaw drops, clearly not expecting her to brush it off so casually. “What kind of operation are you running here?!”

Jennie shrugs, tilting her head slightly. “One that raises a lot of money for good causes. But I can see you’re having a tough time. If you’d like to leave, feel free.”

The man splutters, caught between indignation and disbelief. “Unbelievable,” he mutters, rolling up the window as he starts the engine. The car jerks forward, sputtering soap suds as it disappears down the line.

Once he’s gone, Jennie turns to Jisung with a pointed look. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Jisung grins, twirling the hose dramatically before setting it back down. “I was just defending her honour. Can’t blame me for being chivalrous.”

Jennie snorts. “Chivalry, my ass.” She glances at you, her expression softening. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Thanks, Jennie.”

“Anytime,” she says before walking off, muttering something about “men being idiots” under her breath.

As the tension eases, Jisung turns to you, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “You good, Sleeping Beauty?”

You look at him, the sunlight catching the sharp edges of his tattoos and the mischievous gleam in his dark eyes. “I’m fine,” you say, your voice quiet but steady. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Jisung replies, echoing Jennie’s words with a wink. “Now, let’s get this next car cleaned before I scare off all our customers.”

The sun blazes overhead, relentless and unforgiving, and Jisung is feeling every degree of the heat. He stands near a car, fanning his face dramatically with one hand. “Holy shit, I’m actually melting,” he complains to no one in particular, his bare chest glistening under the sunlight. His tattoos seem to shimmer, the inked rockstar on his ribs drawing attention as it stretches with his every breath. The scorpion on his neck gleams faintly, almost as if it’s alive.

You glance over at him from where you’re rinsing a sponge, a playful idea sparking in your mind. The bucket of clean water at your feet suddenly looks less like a tool and more like an opportunity. Biting your lip to hold back a giggle, you lift the bucket carefully, tiptoeing toward him.

Jisung continues fanning himself, muttering something about needing a fucking ice bath, completely oblivious to your approach. When you’re close enough, you tip the bucket forward, the cool water cascading over his head and shoulders with a loud splash.

“What the fuck?!” Jisung yells, spinning around to face you, his hair dripping and plastered to his forehead. Water trickles down his torso, accentuating the curve of his tattoos as his eyes widen in disbelief.

You’re already backing up, laughing uncontrollably as you clutch the now-empty bucket. “You looked hot,” you tease, your voice light and sweet despite the chaos you’ve just unleashed. “Thought I’d help cool you down.”

“Oh, you’re dead,” Jisung says, dropping the fan act entirely as he grabs the nearby hose. The grin spreading across his face is equal parts playful and dangerous.

“No, no, no!” you squeal, turning on your heel and sprinting toward the nearest car for cover.

Jisung doesn’t hesitate. The hose comes to life in his hands, spraying a sharp stream of water as he chases after you. “Get back here, Sleeping Beauty!” he shouts, laughing as you duck behind the car.

Your giggles echo in the lot as you peek out from the other side of the car, your messy ponytail swaying with the movement. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Wouldn’t I?” Jisung counters, narrowing his eyes before aiming the hose directly at you. The water arcs through the air, catching you squarely on the side. You shriek, dashing out from behind the car in an attempt to dodge the stream.

The commotion draws attention. Rose and Hyunjin, who’ve been quietly chatting while washing a car nearby, look up just as Jisung’s spray hits you again. Rose smirks, grabbing her own sponge soaked in water, and flings it directly at Hyunjin, hitting him in the chest.

“Oh, it’s on,” Hyunjin growls, scooping up a bucket of sudsy water and launching it at her.

“What the fuck, Hyun?!” Rose yells, laughing as she gets drenched.

Jennie, who’s been working with Chan on the other side of the lot, notices the growing chaos. “Oh, hell no,” she mutters before grabbing a bucket of her own and tossing the contents in Chan’s direction.

Chan sputters, shaking water out of his blue hair before locking eyes with Jennie. His smirk is slow and deliberate. “You asked for it,” he says, lunging for the hose near his feet.

Within moments, the entire lot devolves into an all-out water fight. Lisa and Jisoo team up, grabbing buckets and sponges to take on Changbin, Felix, Minho, and Seungmin, who retaliate with hoses and cups of water. Shouts, laughter, and splashes echo through the parking lot, creating a scene of pure, unfiltered chaos.

But amid the frenzy, you and Jisung remain locked in your own battle. He corners you near the speaker, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he raises the hose. You hold up your hands, laughing breathlessly. “Truce?”

“Truce?” Jisung repeats, arching a brow. “Do I look like the kind of guy who plays fair?”

Before you can respond, he sprays a gentle mist of water over you, the droplets catching the sunlight like tiny diamonds. You laugh, brushing the water off your face as you step closer, your playful smile disarming him completely.

“You’re relentless,” you say, shaking your head.

“Only when it comes to you,” Jisung replies, his voice lower, the playful edge softening into something warmer.

Nearby, Hyunjin and Rose are in their own world, oblivious to the chaos around them. Hyunjin has ditched his sponge entirely, opting to pour bucket after bucket of water over Rose, who retaliates by flicking soap suds at his face. They’re both laughing so hard they can barely stand upright.

“Are you trying to drown me?” Rose yells, gasping for breath between giggles.

“Maybe,” Hyunjin teases, grinning as he pushes his wet hair out of his face. “But you’re too pretty to stay mad at me.”

Rose’s laughter falters for a moment, a faint blush coloring her cheeks before she grabs another sponge and flings it at him.

On the other side of the lot, Jennie and Chan have abandoned any pretense of cleaning. Jennie has somehow wrestled the hose away from him and is now gleefully spraying his chest as he tries to dodge. “This is revenge for all the shit you’ve given me, Bang Chan!” she shouts, laughing.

Chan finally grabs the hose, tugging it away from her with a triumphant grin. “Yeah? Well, let’s see how you like it!” He sprays a light stream toward her, but instead of running, Jennie steps forward, meeting his gaze with a smirk.

“Is that all you’ve got?” she taunts, crossing her arms despite the water dripping from her.

Chan hesitates for a second, his grin faltering as he takes in her challenging stare. “Maybe I’m going easy on you.”

“Don’t bother,” Jennie replies, her smirk widening.

Back in your corner of the chaos, Jisung finally lowers the hose, stepping closer until he’s standing just a foot away. “You having fun?” he asks, his voice soft but teasing.

You nod, brushing wet strands of hair out of your face. “More than I expected,” you admit, your quiet tone laced with warmth.

Jisung’s grin softens, his dark eyes scanning your face before locking onto yours. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you can ask what he means, he turns the hose back on, spraying a gentle arc over your head as your laughter rings out, blending perfectly with the chaos of the day.

The sun filters through the trees lining the campus path, casting dappled patterns of light on the pavement as you make your way to the library. The pink cherry-patterned mini dress you’re wearing sways lightly with each step, your light pink wedges clicking softly against the concrete. Your hair is half-up, a small bun perched on the crown of your head, and the cherries drawn in red eyeliner on your eyelids complement the delicate pink of your eye makeup. You clutch a small stack of books to your chest, the clear gloss on your lips catching the light as you hum softly to yourself.

You’re almost at the library steps when a voice cuts through the quiet bustle of campus. “Hey, sweetheart.”

You stop short as an arm drapes across your shoulders. Instinctively, your shoulders scrunch up, the weight of the unexpected contact making you tense. You clutch your books tighter to your chest, your pulse quickening as the unfamiliar Theta Tau guy leans in, his smirk a little too wide and his cologne a little too strong.

“I hear you’ve been hanging around with that walking coloring book,” he drawls, his tone mockingly casual. “What’s his name again? The Alpha Phi guy?”

You glance at him, your soft eyes darting nervously. “Jisung,” you say quietly, though your voice is barely above a whisper. “His name is Jisung.”

“Right, right,” the Theta sneers, his grip tightening slightly as he steers you closer to him. “Guy looks like a fucking graffiti wall. What’s he got that I don’t?”

Before you can respond, a sharp whistle pierces the air. The Theta’s head snaps up, and you turn your gaze over your shoulder. Jisung is walking toward you, the sun catching on the ink that decorates his legs and arms. He’s wearing a black vest tucked into black shorts, his sneakers scuffing softly against the path as he strolls. A cigarette dangles lazily between his lips, a thin stream of smoke curling upward. His dark eyes lock onto yours, sharp and unreadable, but there’s a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jisung calls out, his voice light and warm, but there’s an edge of something dangerous underneath. “Ready to go?”

You seize the lifeline he’s thrown, nodding quickly as you glance up at the Theta still hanging onto your shoulders. “Sorry,” you murmur, stepping out from under his arm. “I have plans.”

The Theta scowls, his sneer deepening as he looks Jisung up and down. “Back off, Alpha Phi.”

Jisung hums, taking a long drag of his cigarette as he reaches you. He slings his arm around your shoulders with casual ease, his fingers brushing lightly against your exposed skin. You lean into him instinctively, your small frame fitting comfortably against his side.

“Move on, Theta,” Jisung says, exhaling a cloud of smoke that drifts lazily between them. His voice is calm, but his dark eyes hold a warning.

The Theta scoffs, his expression twisting into something ugly. “Is that a threat?”

Jisung’s smirk widens, his sharp canines flashing as he pulls the cigarette from his lips. “Yeah,” he says, his voice dipping lower, the word drawn out deliberately. “It is.”

The tension thickens, the quiet hum of campus life fading into the background as the two men stare each other down. You grip the edge of your books tightly, your heart pounding as you glance nervously between them.

The Theta Tau guy sneers, his hands clenching at his sides. “You think you’re tough shit, huh? Just ‘cause you’ve got some fucking tattoos?”

Jisung laughs, the sound light and almost friendly, but his grin never reaches his eyes. He leans forward slightly, his tone dropping to something darker. “I think you should walk away before I make you move. And trust me, it won’t be pretty.”

The Theta’s jaw twitches, but the look in Jisung’s eyes gives him pause. He steps back, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Whatever, man,” he mutters, glaring at you briefly before turning to leave. “Enjoy your little date.”

Jisung waits until the Theta is out of earshot before taking another drag of his cigarette, his smirk softening as he turns to you. “You okay?”

You nod, your voice quiet but steady. “Thank you, Jisung.”

“Anytime, Sleeping Beauty,” he says, his grin widening as he flicks the ash from his cigarette. “Now, come on. I wasn’t lying about those plans. Let’s get out of here before another asshole shows up.”

The library is quiet, save for the soft rustling of pages and the occasional clack of a keyboard. You and Jisung settle into a table in the back corner, away from prying eyes and the sporadic chatter of other students. The afternoon sun filters through the large windows, casting warm patches of light over the dark wooden furniture. You pull out your thick book on criminal case law in South Korea and set it on the table with a quiet thud. Next to it, you place a sleek purple cover for pages, carefully aligning it as you open the text.

Jisung watches you with mild curiosity, his tattooed arms resting lazily on the table. He’s leaned back in his chair, legs stretched out under the table, his black vest taut against his chest. “What’s that for?” he asks, nodding toward the purple overlay.

“It helps with my dyslexia,” you explain softly, smoothing the edges of the page. “The colour makes it easier for me to read without the letters swimming around.”

Jisung whistles lowly, leaning forward now, his arms folding on the table as he peers at the book. “That’s intense. What’re you studying?”

You glance up at him briefly, your lips curving into a small smile. “I have a pop quiz coming up on mens rea and actus reus in specific landmark cases involving sexual offences, murder, and assaults.”

Jisung’s brows raise, his expression caught somewhere between impressed and horrified. “Holy shit, princess. That’s heavy.”

The nickname makes your cheeks warm slightly, but you duck your head back toward your book. “It’s part of the curriculum,” you say quietly. “I need to know it.”

“Do you want me to quiz you?” he offers, his tone casual but curious.

You blink at him, surprised. “You wouldn’t mind?”

Jisung smirks, leaning back again and tipping his chair onto two legs. “I don’t do shit I don’t want to, princess.”

The nickname catches you off guard again, and you tilt your head at him. “Princess?”

He shrugs, his grin widening. “When I met you, you were dressed as one. It fits.”

Your lips twitch into a smile, and you nod toward the book. “Alright, go ahead. Just… don’t make it too easy.”

“Oh, I wasn’t planning on it.” Jisung cracks his knuckles dramatically before flipping through the book, his sharp eyes scanning the dense text. He finds a section with case law summaries and leans closer, tapping one with his finger. “Alright, let’s start with this: What was the mens rea in the case of the 2003 Gwangju arson-murder incident?”

You bite your lip, thinking. “That case… the mens rea was established as intent to kill, right? The prosecution argued that the act of starting the fire directly demonstrated intent.”

“Ding ding ding,” Jisung says, grinning. “One for one. Alright, next.” He flips a few more pages, clearly enjoying himself. “Here’s a tricky one. The 1998 Seoul assault case, what was the actus reus?”

You frown, your fingers tracing the edge of the table. “That was… the act of hitting the victim with a blunt object. It was categorized as deliberate physical harm.”

“Fuck yeah, it was,” Jisung says, leaning back with a satisfied nod. “You’re a fucking genius.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Hardly. I just read a lot.”

“Whatever you say, princess,” Jisung replies, his grin never wavering as he continues flipping through the book. He deliberately picks out the most obscure cases, challenging you with increasingly difficult questions, but you manage to hold your own, surprising both yourself and him.

After a while, he closes the book with a soft thud and leans forward on the table, resting his chin on his tattooed forearms. “Hey,” he says casually, his voice dropping slightly. “Wanna go to Lotte World with me next week?”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone. “Like… a date?”

“Yeah,” he says easily, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “Theme park, lots of rides, obnoxiously expensive snacks. We can get the train straight there.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you glance down at the book, pretending to study the cover as you gather your thoughts. “I… sure,” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “That sounds nice.”

Jisung’s grin widens, and he straightens up, leaning back in his chair again. “Good. It’s a date, then.”

You look up at him, your quiet smile returning. “It’s a date.”

The moment lingers, warm and unspoken, before Jisung picks up the book again, tapping the cover playfully. “But first, let’s make sure you ace that quiz, princess.”

You laugh softly, the weight of the day lifting as the two of you settle back into studying. The world outside fades, the quiet camaraderie between you and Jisung making the library feel like a sanctuary, a place where something new and exciting is beginning to unfold.

The Alpha Phi living room is a scene of organized chaos. Empty soda cans and crumpled snack wrappers litter the coffee table, and the faint smell of pizza from last night still lingers in the air. The guys are sprawled across mismatched furniture, the summer heat making the space feel even more cramped despite the humming ceiling fan above.

Jisung sits in the corner of the couch, one leg draped over the armrest, a smug grin plastered across his face. He’s only wearing a pair of neon green shorts, an unfortunate choice, but he hasn’t gotten around to doing laundry. His arms, covered in vibrant sleeves, are propped behind his head as he lounges like he owns the place.

“Alright,” Chan says, clapping his hands together as he leans forward from his seat in the armchair. His short blue hair is damp from a quick shower, and his sleeveless hoodie leaves his muscular arms on full display. “Let’s get this shit started. Progress reports, boys. Hyunjin, you’re up first.”

Hyunjin sighs dramatically, leaning back on the chaise and tossing his black hair over his shoulder with theatrical flair. “Me and Rose are a work in progress,” he says, his tone both exasperated and smug. “She’s warming up to me, though. I mean, how could she not? I’m fucking irresistible.”

“You’re fucking insufferable,” Changbin mutters from his spot on the beanbag chair, earning a chorus of laughter from the others.

Hyunjin ignores him, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “But yeah, I’m playing the long game. Slow and steady wins the race.”

“Sure it does, Romeo,” Seungmin deadpans, barely looking up from his phone.

“Alright, alright,” Chan says, raising a hand to silence the banter. “Let’s hear it, Jisung. What’s the deal with Sleeping Beauty?”

Jisung’s grin widens, and he shifts in his seat, leaning forward slightly. “Let me tell you, boys, I’m fucking killing it,” he starts, his tone full of confidence. “I helped Y/N study for her pop quiz, mens rea and actus reus, all that legal shit. We spent hours together, and I didn’t even mess with her once.”

“That’s a miracle,” Felix pipes up from the floor, where he’s lying on his stomach, his chin propped on his hands. “You not messing with someone? Did hell freeze over?”

“Shut the fuck up, Lix,” Jisung says, flicking a crumpled napkin in his direction. “Anyway, I’m building the groundwork, you know? Laying a solid fucking foundation. And get this, we’re going on a date to Lotte World next week.”

Changbin sits up abruptly, his eyes wide. “No fucking way. You got her to agree to a date?”

“Hell yeah, I did,” Jisung replies, holding out his hand for a high five. Changbin slaps his palm with a grin, the sound echoing through the room.

“Alright, Mr. Disney Prince,” Jeongin says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “What’s your plan for Lotte World? Gonna serenade her on the Ferris wheel or something?”

“Jeongin, shut the fuck up before I turn your face into a punching bag,” Jisung shoots back, though his grin never wavers. “I’ve got it under control. Trust the process.”

Chan clears his throat, drawing the room’s attention back to him. “Not to flex or anything,” he starts, though his shit-eating grin suggests otherwise, “but I fucked Jennie after the car wash.”

The room erupts into chaos. Felix drops his head into his hands, cackling, while Changbin nearly chokes on his soda. Hyunjin lets out a loud, theatrical gasp, clutching his chest like he’s been mortally wounded.

“No fucking way,” Minho says, his eyebrows shooting up. “You’re telling me the president of Alpha Phi finally got his shit together?”

“Not only that,” Chan continues, his grin widening, “but we’re going out for dinner tomorrow. So, yeah, things are looking pretty fucking good.”

Hyunjin claps slowly, the sound dripping with mockery. “Look at you, Bang Chan. Finally living up to all those muscles.”

“Better late than never,” Seungmin mutters, still scrolling on his phone.

“Alright, alright,” Chan says, waving them off, though his smugness is impossible to ignore. “Let’s not make this about me. Jisung, Hyunjin, sounds like you two are on the right track. Keep it up.”

Jisung leans back again, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. “Don’t worry, Captain. We’ve got this shit locked down.”

The air is alive with laughter, the hum of roller coasters, and the sugary aroma of cotton candy wafting through Lotte World. The vibrant colours of the park shimmer under the bright afternoon sun, and you can’t help but feel a little giddy as you walk beside Jisung. The two of you weave through the crowds, the sounds of children squealing with delight blending with the faint music playing from the park speakers.

Jisung is a striking contrast to the whimsical surroundings, dressed entirely in black. His cargo shorts and fitted vest top show off his tattoos, the falling Icarus on his left thigh catching the light as he moves. His scorpion neck tattoo peeks out just above the neckline, and his sunglasses sit low on his nose, giving him an effortlessly cool demeanour.

You, in your light blue cropped camisole and white denim shorts, feel like a pastel-coloured foil to his dark, edgy look. Your angel wing tattoos are visible on your shoulder blades, and the cursive DIVINE inked on your lower back peeks out slightly when you adjust your messy ponytail.

“We have to go on the log flume, right?” Jisung asks, breaking the comfortable silence as he glances over at you.

You nod, smiling softly. “It’s a classic.”

“Exactly,” Jisung says, grinning as he grabs your hand. His fingers are warm, his grip firm but not overbearing, and he tugs you gently in the direction of the ride. “Come on, let’s do it before the line gets insane.”

The warmth of his hand in yours sends a subtle jolt through your chest, but you follow him without hesitation, letting him lead you through the maze of attractions. The line for the log flume is shorter than expected, and soon you’re climbing into one of the wooden boats together, the faint scent of chlorine and wet wood filling the air.

Jisung slides in beside you, his arm immediately draping across the back of your seat. His closeness is impossible to ignore, his tattooed arm brushing lightly against your shoulders, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the water droplets clinging to the boat’s sides.

“You good?” he asks, his voice low but casual as he adjusts his sunglasses, glancing sideways at you.

You nod, your lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah. This’ll be fun.”

The boat begins to move, the gentle rocking of the water beneath it setting the rhythm for the ride. The cool breeze that sweeps through the air feels refreshing against your skin as the boat glides past the animatronic scenes that line the route. Jisung keeps his arm where it is, his fingertips occasionally brushing against your shoulder as the two of you take in the surroundings.

When the first small drop approaches, Jisung leans closer, a playful grin on his face. “You scared of getting wet?”

You glance at him, shaking your head. “Not really. Are you?”

“Please,” he scoffs, smirking. “I live for this shit.”

The boat tips over the edge, and you let out a soft squeal as the water splashes up, misting your face and dampening the ends of your hair. Jisung laughs beside you, his arm tightening slightly around your shoulders to steady you as the boat levels out.

“Not bad,” he says, his grin widening as he glances down at you. “You good?”

You nod, brushing a few droplets off your face with the back of your hand. “I told you, I’m not scared.”

“Fair enough,” Jisung replies, his tone teasing but warm. “Guess you’re braver than I thought, princess.”

The nickname makes your cheeks heat slightly, but you don’t say anything, focusing instead on the ride as the next incline comes into view. Jisung’s arm remains around you, his casual confidence somehow grounding despite the lighthearted chaos of the moment.

As the boat begins its ascent toward the biggest drop, Jisung leans closer, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “Alright, Sleeping Beauty. Last chance to bail.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jisung chuckles, his grin almost triumphant as the boat crests the top of the hill. The drop comes fast and exhilarating, the water spraying up in a cascade of cool droplets that soak both of you. You let out a startled laugh, clutching the edge of the seat as Jisung’s laughter rings out beside you.

When the boat finally slows and the ride comes to an end, you’re both damp and breathless, the adrenaline still buzzing in your veins. Jisung pushes his sunglasses up onto his head, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement as he looks at you.

“Not bad, princess,” he says, his grin widening. “You survived.”

“Barely,” you reply, your voice soft but teasing.

Jisung laughs, his arm slipping from your shoulders as the boat comes to a stop. He steps out first, offering his hand to help you out. You take it, your fingers brushing against his, and for a moment, the rest of the park fades away.

As the two of you walk away from the ride, your clothes damp and your spirits high, Jisung glances at you, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “What’s next?”

You glance around the park, a quiet warmth blooming in your chest as you realize there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. “Whatever you want,” you say simply, your smile matching his.

Laughter echoes between you and Jisung as you stumble into the photobooth together, the curtain swishing closed behind you. The dampness from the log flume ride clings to your clothes, making the enclosed space feel slightly cooler than the blazing sun outside. The booth is cramped, forcing you to sit closer than you expected, your knees brushing against his.

“Alright, princess,” Jisung says, leaning over to press the buttons on the screen. His tattoos flex with the movement, and he flashes you a cheeky grin. “We’ve got five shots. Better make them count.”

The countdown begins, the screen flashing a giant “3… 2… 1.”

For the first photo, you both grab a pair of oversized sunglasses from the prop bin. You stand back to back, arms crossed dramatically as you point finger guns at the camera. Jisung’s grin is wide and mischievous as he tips his head slightly, the scorpion tattoo on his neck peeking out under his black sunglasses.

“Looking like a fucking action hero,” Jisung quips as the flash goes off.

“You mean a fucking cartoon,” you counter, giggling as you turn to face him.

The screen counts down again for the second shot, and this time, you’re mid-laugh. Jisung has just finished telling you about Changbin farting during a deadlift at the gym.

“It was so bad,” Jisung says, barely holding back his own laughter. “Felix almost puked. Minho ran out of the room. Chan legit said, ‘Fuck this,’ and walked away. I thought I was gonna die.”

You’re laughing so hard your shoulders shake, your messy ponytail bouncing as you clutch your stomach. The camera catches the moment perfectly, your head tilted back, eyes scrunched in genuine delight, while Jisung leans forward, laughing along with you.

“Jesus Christ,” you manage to say through your giggles, wiping at your eyes. “That’s disgusting.”

“Changbin’s ass is a fucking weapon of mass destruction,” Jisung agrees, grinning.

For the third photo, you decide to up the chaos. Jisung sticks out his tongue and crosses his eyes, while you puff out your cheeks and pull at your ponytail, making your hair look even messier. The flash goes off just as you both start laughing at each other’s ridiculous faces.

“Holy shit, we’re gonna look insane,” you say, catching your breath.

“That’s the point,” Jisung replies, his grin wide and unbothered. “It’s art.”

The fourth photo catches you mid-laugh again, this time at Jisung’s story about Hyunjin ripping his pants at a party.

“It wasn’t just a tear,” Jisung says, his voice animated as he gestures wildly. “Dude bent over to pick up his phone, and the entire ass seam exploded. Like, gone. Everyone saw his SpongeBob boxers.”

You’re practically wheezing, your hand covering your mouth as you try to suppress your laughter. The flash goes off again, but this time Jisung doesn’t even look at the camera. He’s watching you, a small smile playing on his lips as he takes in the way your laughter lights up your face.

For the fifth and final shot, the countdown begins again, and the laughter subsides into a quiet, lingering warmth. Jisung looks at you, his eyes softer now, the playful edge replaced by something deeper.

Before you can ask what’s on his mind, he leans in. His hand comes up to cup your face gently, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. His lips meet yours, warm and sure, the kiss sweet but charged with an undeniable spark.

The flash goes off, capturing the moment perfectly. You’re too caught up in the kiss to care, your heart pounding as the world outside the booth fades away.

When he pulls back, his grin returns, a little smug but mostly pleased. “Had to make the last one memorable,” he says, his voice low and slightly breathless.

You blink at him, your cheeks warm as you nod. “You… definitely did.”

Jisung chuckles, reaching for the screen to pay for two copies of the photo strip. When they print, he hands you one with a flourish. “For your scrapbook or whatever,” he says, tucking the other strip into the back of his phone case. “And this one’s mine. Gotta preserve the evidence of how hot we look.”

You laugh softly, your fingers brushing against the glossy photos. “Thanks, Jisung.”

“Anytime, princess,” he replies, pushing the curtain aside and gesturing for you to follow him. As the two of you step back into the sunlight, the photo strip in your hand feels heavier than it should—like it holds more than just images but the start of something real.

The Alpha Phi frat house is already buzzing with noise when you and Jisung arrive. Laughter and loud voices carry through the open windows, and the faint smell of someone’s late-night cooking mingles with the ever-present scent of whatever questionable air freshener they’ve been using.

Jisung pushes the door open, gesturing for you to step in first. “Welcome to the madhouse,” he says, smirking as he steps in behind you.

The living room is packed. Chan is perched on the arm of a couch, his arms crossed and an expectant grin on his face. Minho and Felix are sprawled on the cushions, Felix holding a bowl of popcorn while Minho sips from a soda can. Changbin is on the floor leaning against the coffee table, and Jeongin and Seungmin are in the corner playing cards. Hyunjin is sprawled dramatically on the chaise, his hair messily tied back.

“Finally!” Chan exclaims as soon as he spots you two. “Took you long enough.”

“Fucking hell, we were about to send a search party,” Changbin adds, tossing a crumpled wrapper at Jisung, who easily dodges it.

Jisung doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he casually pulls his phone from his pocket, holding it up so the clear case reveals the strip of photobooth pictures tucked neatly inside. The black border around the photos makes the images pop, each one filled with laughter, ridiculous faces, and, of course, that final kiss.

The room erupts into chaos.

“No fucking way,” Felix exclaims, dropping the popcorn bowl in his lap as he leans forward. “That’s so cute!”

Minho glances at the photos, his lips quirking into a sly grin. “So, that’s how I win you over, huh, Lix?” he says, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “Just take you to a photobooth?”

Felix flushes immediately, his freckles standing out against his red cheeks. “Shut up, Minho!” he sputters, smacking him lightly on the arm.

Jisung smirks, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, assholes. You’re just jealous.”

“I mean, a little,” Jeongin pipes up from the corner, his tone teasing. “You got a whole-ass date at Lotte World, and I’m stuck here losing to Seungmin at cards.”

“Get good, loser,” Seungmin retorts, barely glancing up.

Hyunjin suddenly sits up, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “Alright, Y/N,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “Your turn. How do I win over Rose? Spill.”

You blink, surprised at being put on the spot. “Food,” you say after a moment, your lips curving into a small smile. “She’s from New Zealand, so anything that reminds her of home would mean a lot. She also mentioned wanting a portrait… either of her or something you paint for her.”

Hyunjin’s eyes light up, and he dramatically presses a hand to his chest. “Y/N, I love you,” he declares, jumping to his feet. “You’re a genius. A fucking genius!” Without another word, he bolts up the stairs, presumably to start planning his grand gesture.

Changbin chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s kinda crazy when you think about it,” he says, leaning back against the table. “This whole fucking romance train started with that disco pang pang ride.”

“Right?” Chan agrees, laughing. “That stupid ride caused absolute chaos. And now look, Jisung’s over here with photobooth kisses.”

“Fucking poetic,” Jeongin mutters, smirking.

Jisung waves them off with a dramatic eye roll. “Alright, losers, I’m done with this intervention. We’re going upstairs.”

“Wait,” Minho says, stopping him mid-step. He pulls something out of his pocket and hands it to you, a face mask in a sleek black packet. “You’re gonna need this.”

You blink at him, tilting your head. “Why?”

“Because,” Minho replies with a deadpan expression, “Jisung’s room is fucking disgusting. It’s a biohazard. This is for your safety.”

The room erupts into laughter, everyone nodding in agreement.

“Fuck off, my room isn’t that bad!” Jisung protests, but his grin gives him away.

“Bro, you live in a dumpster,” Felix says, still chuckling. “Let’s not pretend otherwise.”

You smile, accepting the face mask with a soft, “Thank you, Minho.”

Jisung groans dramatically, grabbing your hand and tugging you toward the stairs. “Don’t listen to them, princess. My room is fine. Let’s go.”

You and Jisung head upstairs, your footsteps echoing in the narrow hallway. Jisung’s hand is wrapped around yours, pulling you along as the sounds of the frat house’s chaos slowly fade behind you. The door to his room is ajar when you reach it, and he swings it open with a casual flick of his wrist, revealing the space inside.

“Alright, welcome to my humble abode,” Jisung says, stepping aside to let you in. “Don’t mind the mess.”

You raise an eyebrow as you step into his room. It’s not exactly what you were expecting. There’s a comfortable bed in the corner, a few scattered posters on the walls, but it’s the clutter that catches your attention. Piles of clothes in various states of cleanliness are stacked in one corner, and there’s a mess of gadgets, unopened boxes, and random knick-knacks littering his desk.

“It’s not dirty,” Jisung insists, closing the door behind you. “It’s just... I buy a lot of shit I never use.”

You can’t help but laugh quietly, shaking your head. “Yeah, I can see that.” You glance at him, catching a glimpse of a Star Wars figurine on the shelf, a couple of old video game consoles tucked under his desk, and what appears to be a half-used, brightly colored art set. “What is all this stuff, Jisung?”

Jisung shrugs nonchalantly, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “I mean, I was gonna do something with all of it. But, you know, procrastination is a hell of a drug.” He walks over to the desk and tosses his jacket over the back of the chair before flopping down onto the bed. “But, I’m not here to give you a tour of my shit. What do you think of my mess?”

You glance around again, spotting something on his desk that catches your eye, a criminal law textbook, open to a random page. You walk over to it, picking it up and raising an eyebrow. “Why do you have this?”

Jisung looks over at you, propping himself up on his elbows. “Figured it’d be good to have something to talk about, you know? Make me sound smart and shit.” He shrugs, completely unfazed by the fact that he’s openly admitting to this in front of you.

You look back at him, a quiet laugh escaping you. “You? Sounding smart? Yeah, sure.”

He throws his head back dramatically. “Hey, I’m a journalism major with a criminal psych minor. I can throw around some fancy words.”

“I’ll give you credit for trying,” you tease, before glancing around some more. That’s when you spot the Harry Potter shelf in the corner, filled with a collection of wands, scarves, and figurines.

“Wait,” you say, pointing at the shelf. “Are those... Harry Potter things?”

Jisung smirks, clearly proud of his collection. “Hufflepuff represent!” he announces with a dramatic flair, throwing his hands up like he’s about to lead a chant.

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “Hufflepuff? Really?”

“Hell yeah,” he says, looking at you as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “We’re loyal, hardworking, and way cooler than all those other houses.”

You roll your eyes, half-amused, half-surprised. “I took the quiz, and I was a Slytherin.”

Jisung’s face twists in mock horror. “You?! A Slytherin?!” he exclaims, raising an eyebrow in exaggerated shock. “There’s no way you’re a Slytherin. I thought you were, like, all sweet and shit.”

You shrug with a smile, enjoying the banter. “Turns out, I’m secretly cunning and ambitious.”

Jisung chuckles, shaking his head. “Fuck, that’s funny. But I’ll take it. Slytherins are smart as hell.”

As you glance around his room, something else catches your eye, a small book of poetry, sitting casually on his nightstand. You pick it up, flicking through the pages. “Wait, what’s this?” you ask, your voice playful as you glance at Jisung.

He sits up on the bed, his smirk softening into something more sheepish. “I saw on your Instagram that you and the girls did a wine and poetry night, so... I bought the book,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Thought it might be a good way to connect.”

You stare at him for a beat, processing the unexpected gesture. And then you can’t help it. You burst out laughing. “You are a secret loser!” You hold up the book like it’s evidence. “Han Jisung, a tattooed hunk with a chest bigger than most women, is secretly a loser!”

Jisung groans, flopping back onto the bed with his hands covering his face. “I swear to god, I’m never doing anything nice for you again.”

You laugh harder, walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I crush your tough guy image?” you tease, nudging him with your elbow. “You’ve got tattoos, a scorpion on your neck, and now you’re reading poetry. You’re like a walking contradiction.”

“Fuck off,” Jisung grumbles, but his voice is amused. 

You smile softly, genuinely touched by the effort, even if it’s a little silly. “I like that you’re a secret loser.”

“God, you really know how to kill a guy’s ego, don’t you?” Jisung says, though the affection in his voice is clear.

“Only because you deserve it,” you tease, picking up the poetry book and flipping through it casually. You can’t help but feel a little lighter in his presence, despite the teasing. “I like the effort. Really.”

Jisung turns his head toward you, giving you a genuine, softer smile. “You know, you’re not so bad yourself, princess.”

You look up at him, your heart unexpectedly fluttering as you feel the weight of his words. “I’m not the only one with layers, huh?”

Jisung chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Nah. Guess not.”

The Alpha Phi living room is a cacophony of banter and energy, as it always is when all eight boys are crammed into one space. Jisung is pacing back and forth in front of his friends, his hands flailing occasionally as he speaks, clearly deep in thought or at least pretending to be.

“Okay,” he starts, stopping abruptly to face the group before continuing his restless pacing. “So, we kissed. She spent time with me in my room. Called me a loser, which, by the way, rude as fuck, but also weirdly endearing, and now I need to make her my girlfriend.”

The room is silent for a beat before Jeongin snorts. “Dude, you’re acting like this is some undercover operation.”

“It is an operation, you little shit,” Jisung fires back, jabbing a finger in Jeongin’s direction. “Step one: romance. Step two: dates. Step three: make it official. Step four: sex. In that order. Because-” he pauses for dramatic effect, spinning to face Chan, “-I am not a heathen like Chan, who fucks before a date.”

“Hey!” Chan says, throwing a crumpled napkin at him. “Don’t drag me into this shit!”

“I’m just saying,” Jisung replies, grinning, “I’m a classy man. Romancing, dates, making it official. Then sex.”

Minho, who’s lounging on the couch beside Felix, raises an eyebrow. “Is it so she’s not scared off by the fact that the tip of your dick is pierced?”

Jisung pauses mid-pace, his mouth opening and closing for a second before he sighs dramatically. “Yes. I need her to accept me as her boyfriend first so we’re locked in before Prince Albert comes into play.”

“Jesus Christ,” Changbin mutters, shaking his head. “I didn’t need to know that.”

“It’s all about transparency, Binnie,” Jisung says with a flourish. “Now, ideas, people. I need ideas. No ideas are bad ideas.”

Hyunjin leans forward, his chin resting on his hands. “Okay, hear me out. You take her to one of those rooftop restaurants. Dim lighting, candles, a view of the city. Classic romance.”

“Solid,” Jisung nods. “Not bad.”

Jeongin raises a hand. “Cook for her. Girls love a guy who can cook.”

“You can’t even boil an egg,” Seungmin mutters.

“Hey, I didn’t say I’d do it. I said he should.”

“That’s actually not terrible,” Jisung admits, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “But I’d probably burn her dinner.”

“Do a grand gesture,” Changbin offers, grinning. “Show up at her window with a boombox, ‘80s movie style.”

“Changbin,” Minho says, deadpan. “No one does that anymore.”

“That’s why it’s genius,” Changbin counters.

Jisung stares at him for a moment before shaking his head. “Fucking awful.”

“Write her a love letter,” Felix suggests quietly, still hiding behind his iced tea.

Jisung arches an eyebrow. “What am I, Shakespeare?”

“Buy her a puppy,” Jeongin adds, grinning. “No one says no to puppies.”

“Jeongin, shut the fuck up,” Jisung snaps, though he can’t suppress a small laugh. “I’m not buying a puppy.”

Chan finally clears his throat, raising a hand to silence the chaos. “Alright, alright. Let me speak, children.”

Jisung crosses his arms, leaning against the wall. “Alright, Chan. You’re the romance man, despite your questionable methods with Jennie. Talk to me, papi.”

The room erupts in a chorus of groans and laughter as Minho jumps in, his smirk widening. “Yeah, Daddy Chan, talk to us. I need to romance Felix, Hyunjin needs to romance Rose. get talking.”

Felix flushes red, his head disappearing behind his drink entirely. “Minho, stop,” he mumbles, his voice barely audible.

Chan sighs dramatically, sitting up straighter. “Fine, you want advice from Daddy Chan? Here it is. First, figure out what she actually likes. Not just the surface stuff. Get to know her for real. What makes her happy? What’s her favourite thing to do when she’s stressed?”

“That’s… actually not bad,” Jisung admits, nodding slowly.

“Second,” Chan continues, “make her feel special without overdoing it. Don’t come off as fake. Do something that’s you, but with a twist for her.”

“And third,” Chan finishes, leaning back with a smirk, “be confident, but not cocky. Show her you’re serious without being overbearing.”

The room falls silent for a moment as everyone processes the surprisingly solid advice.

“Alright,” Jisung says, clapping his hands together. “Let’s do this. Chan, I’ll give you this one, you know your shit.”

“Damn right, I do,” Chan replies, grinning.

Minho raises a hand lazily. “Same advice applies for romancing Felix?”

Felix groans. “Minho, please.”

“Of course it does,” Chan says, smirking at Felix. “Just don’t be a dumbass about it.”

The room devolves into laughter again, but beneath the chaos, Jisung feels a quiet sense of determination. Whatever it takes, he’s going to make this work. After all, he’s not a heathen, he’s a man with a plan.

The sun is low in the sky, casting an amber glow over the bustling streets of Wolmi Myland as Jisung and you stroll side by side, his arm comfortably draped over your shoulder. You’ve grown used to the warmth of his touch, the gentle weight of it sending a calm buzz through your chest, making your smile even softer. The day has been full of laughter, rides, and moments you never want to forget.

Behind you, your friends make up a merry parade. Chan and Jennie are deep in conversation, their laughter filling the air, while Hyunjin and Rose trail behind, teasing each other about something only they understand. Minho and Felix, predictably, are doing their thing. Minho flirting with Felix in that easy, almost predatory way of his, like it’s just another Tuesday.

Felix, usually a shy mess in the face of Minho’s advances, has recently been taking notes from you and the girls on how to handle Minho’s brand of charm. You, Jennie, Jisoo, Lisa, and Rose had all gathered around Felix one afternoon and, in a moment of solidarity, had given him the pep talk of a lifetime. Look up through your eyelashes, bite your lip, speak soft but say something dirty, and so on.

You can hear Felix’s soft voice, but the words catch your attention because they sound like they come straight from a romance novel.

“So... you’ve been working out, huh?” Felix says, voice smooth as silk, a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He looks at Minho through his lashes, lips parted ever so slightly. “I bet those arms would look even better holding me down.”

The reaction from Minho is instant, and you almost choke on your breath as you hear the sharp intake of air from him. His eyes widen as if Felix had just dropped a bomb on him, and the whole group stops in their tracks. Even Jisung’s arm around your shoulder tightens slightly, but his lips curve up in a wicked grin, clearly enjoying the chaos unfolding.

“Marry me, Felix,” Minho says, his voice high-pitched with disbelief but dripping with genuine admiration. “Right now, I’m in love with you. That was fucking hot. I-” He shakes his head as if trying to process what just happened. “Where has this version of Felix been hiding?”

Felix, suddenly more confident than you’ve ever seen him, shrugs and smirks. “You know, just had to channel my inner bad boy. You know how it is, Minho.” He looks around at all of you, a playful glint in his eye. “I can show you more... if you’re really interested.”

Jisung chuckles beside you, squeezing your shoulder lightly. “Damn, Felix, I’m proud of you. Finally found your balls.”

Chan, walking next to Jennie, throws his head back and laughs. “This shit is golden. I’ve been trying to get Felix to do this for years and now he’s out here dropping sexual innuendo like a fucking pro.” He slaps Minho on the back. “What’d you say, Minho? You in love with Felix now?”

Minho, still staring at Felix like he’s seeing him for the first time, just shakes his head in disbelief. “I might actually be. I never thought I’d say this, but damn, Felix, where’s the ring?”

Felix raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the attention. “Maybe you’ll have to earn it, Minho.” He winks and, for a moment, the atmosphere is a perfect blend of playful and charged.

You can’t help but laugh, the whole scene unfolding around you like a whirlwind of flirtation and teasing. Jisung’s arm around your shoulders tightens again, his smile mischievous as he lowers his head toward your ear. “I’m gonna be honest with you,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, “if you ever get me to say something that filthy, I think I’ll have to take you home and lock the door for the night.”

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “You think you can out-flirt Felix?” you tease gently.

Jisung grins, leaning in closer to brush his lips against your temple. “I know I can. I’m just waiting for the right moment.”

“Sure, sure,” you say, your voice light but with a smile playing on your lips. You feel his breath against your skin, sending a thrill through you, but you play it cool, knowing exactly what he’s doing. You lean into him, the closeness making everything feel more intimate.

Felix, still standing a few steps ahead, turns around with a look of pride on his face. “You know, I might have to teach Minho a lesson now,” he adds, “maybe show him how to actually flirt properly.”

Minho’s head snaps toward Felix, a horrified expression crossing his face. “No fucking way. You’re not doing that to me. I’m the one who does the lessons, alright?”

Jisoo and Lisa, who have been walking behind you, laugh loudly, catching the attention of the rest of the group. “Felix, babe, you’re getting too good at this,” Lisa says, grinning. “We might need to tone you down before you leave us all behind in the dating game.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if we can keep up with that level of flirtation,” Jisoo adds, shaking her head with exaggerated disbelief. “Next thing we know, you’re gonna be the one teaching us.”

Felix just grins, clearly loving the attention. “If you want, I could. We’re all about equal opportunity here, right?”

Hyunjin, who’s been walking next to Rose, chimes in, laughing. “You know what, Felix, we might have to start giving you a class for all of us. Teach us your ways.”

The laughter continues, but Jisung’s arm around you stays firm, his presence as comforting as always. His hand brushes your arm lightly as he speaks again, his voice low and playful, “You know, I’ve got some skills of my own, babe. But I’ll let you in on a little secret, nothing beats genuine affection.”

You glance up at him, your heart fluttering. “And I’m guessing you plan on showing me that tonight?”

His grin widens. “You know it, princess.”

The night is in full swing as the group gathers in front of the Disco Pang Pang ride. The neon lights blink around them, casting colourful hues across the faces of your friends. You’re laughing, your hand still resting comfortably in Jisung’s as you walk, but that’s when it happens.

Suddenly, Jisung stops in front of the entrance to the ride. You blink in confusion. Then, he drops to one knee.

The entire group freezes. You can hear Chan and Jennie snickering quietly in the background, Hyunjin and Rose watching with wide eyes. Minho and Felix glance at each other, brows raised, clearly confused but entertained. Jeongin, Seungmin, Changbin, Lisa, and Jisoo all stop and turn toward Jisung, their attention now fully on him.

You, on the other hand, snort. You can’t help it. The sudden seriousness of the moment mixed with Jisung’s complete lack of seriousness has you giggling uncontrollably. You press your hand to your mouth, trying to hide it, but the sound of your laughter fills the air.

“Oh my god,” you manage to gasp between giggles, “are you- Are you serious right now?”

Jisung’s face remains deadpan as he pulls out a ring from his pocket. But it’s not a diamond, or even a normal ring. It’s a candy ring. He holds it up, staring at you with a glint in his eye.

“Y/N L/N,” he says dramatically, “Will you accept me as I am? A sexy secret loser with enough ink on my skin to be a soccer mother’s wet dream in cliterary format? Will you be my girlfriend and accept this ring as a symbol of our romance?”

At that, you burst out laughing again, the candy ring in his hand almost forgotten as you clutch your stomach. You try to compose yourself, but it’s impossible. Jisung’s smirk only grows as he watches you dissolve into giggles.

“Yes!” you finally say between fits of laughter, “Yes, you idiot, I’ll be your girlfriend!” You extend your hand, letting him slip the candy ring onto your finger.

The whole group erupts into applause, and even Minho can’t help but laugh, though he's still trying to figure out what the hell just happened. Jisung grins widely, clearly pleased with himself, and leans in to whisper in your ear, his voice dropping to a teasing tone.

“Oh, by the way,” he says, voice low and almost too smug, “my dick’s pierced. You accepted me as your boyfriend, no take backs.”

You blink, your smile faltering for just a moment. “Your what is what?” You look around, clearly trying to process what he just said.

Minho, who has been lounging with Felix nearby, shrugs and speaks up. “It’s true,” he says casually, snuggling into Felix’s side, clearly comfortable with this new conversation. “Jisung showed us all when he got it done. The whole frat saw it. Right, guys?”

The guys all nod enthusiastically, their voices rising in unison.

“Yeah, it’s true,” Changbin adds with a smirk.

“Couldn’t stop talking about it for days,” Seungmin chimes in with a chuckle.

Jisung just grins at you, clearly pleased with the reactions. “Think of it as extra ribbing,” he says with a wink, leaning in closer to you.

You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to stifle your smile, but it's no use. Your laughter bubbles up again. You can’t believe the absurdity of it all, but at the same time, it feels right. This- he- feels right.

Jennie, who's been watching the entire exchange with a raised eyebrow, finally speaks up, her voice stern but amused. “No! No talking filth in public, you two!” she calls out, pointing at Jisung and you as she laughs. “We’re in public, for fuck’s sake.”

Jisung raises his hands in mock surrender, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Fine, fine,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “I’m a gentleman. I’ll keep it clean for now.”

You smile up at him, your heart racing with affection for this ridiculous, wonderful guy. “You know, I really don’t think I can take you anywhere without you making a scene.”

Jisung gives you an exaggerated look of offence. “What are you talking about? I’m a fucking angel, princess.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you tease, rolling your eyes. “A real angel with a pierced dick and a candy ring.”

“Hell yeah,” he says, laughing along with you. “But hey, we’re at Disco Pang Pang. Our place. You wanna go on the ride? Should we go and relive the moment where we first met?”

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of the ride, the memory of how you met, of how everything changed in that one moment. The laughter, the absurdity, and the way he looked at you. It’s been perfect ever since.

“Lead the way,” you reply, your smile soft and warm as you take his hand.

Jisung’s eyes light up, and he gives you a cheeky wink. “You got it, princess.”

He pulls you along toward the entrance of the ride, and the whole group follows. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been more content in your life than you are right now, surrounded by your friends, by Jisung, and by a relationship that’s in its early stages but is already everything you ever wanted.

As you board the Disco Pang Pang, Jisung pulls you close, his arm wrapping around your waist. The ride begins to spin, and you can’t help but feel like everything has fallen into place. There’s laughter, excitement, and the feeling that this moment, this night, is exactly where you’re supposed to be.

And as the lights of the ride flash, the music thumping in your ears, you know that no matter where you go, as long as you’re with him, it’s going to be an adventure.

The ride begins to buck, and Jisung pulls you closer, a wide grin on his face as he looks at you with that familiar spark in his eyes. “You’re mine now, princess.”

You lean into him, grinning back. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

General Taglist: @nightmarenyxx

Proofread by the wonderful @eastjonowhere

[yanderecrazysie]

Hi! I really really love your work so much especially anything you write for Oikawa and was wondering if I could request for a Yan!Oikawa × reader fic, college AU where Oikawa is a frat president and the reader is a freshman (whether she's in a sorority or not i'll leave it up to you)

Oikawa is literally invading every aspect of reader's college life but its still kinda all fun and games until Oikawa sees the reader hanging out with another freshman from a rival frat (bonus points if the freshman is Kageyama 😂) and he just loses his shit

I know nothing about sororities/frats so please forgive me if it’s all off.

Title: Party Girl

Pairings: Yandere!Oikawa Tooru  x F! Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes

The sign proclaimed “Delta Phi Nu” in golden lettering, standing stark against the white marble arch. As soon as you walked under it, the door to the sorority flew open, girls streaming out to say hello to the newest addition.

It’s a hailstorm of shrieks and glitter, overly-excited young women all surrounding you, all trying to talk to you at once. It was overwhelming, but it was also everything you had hoped for and more. Their enthusiasm was infectious. 

Your suitcase rolled along the sidewalk, up to the steps to the sorority. You struggled to lift it up each step, the hot day causing sweat to materialize on your skin.

“You need help?” A voice called from across the street. It was a brown-haired guy in sunglasses, his brilliantly white smile blinding you more than the sun.

“No, I’m good,” you called back.

Little gasps left the girls around you. One of them leaned forward and, in a conspiratorial whisper, said, “But that’s Oikawa Tooru! President of Alpha Tau Omega!”

You looked back at her uncomprehendingly. “The most powerful frat on campus!” squealed another girl.

“Oh,” you said simply, not sure whether to laugh or not. It was just carrying your suitcase up the stairs- it’s not like you rejected his hand in marriage, like the women around you were acting like you did.

He gave you the creeps, and you weren’t sure why. But it didn’t matter all that much what you thought of him.

It’s not like you’d be seeing him around much anyways.

—------------------------------------------------

“Oikawa Tooru. President, scholar, athlete and- if you’re lucky- your future boyfriend.”

You shook his hand and let out an awkward laugh. Typical frat boy. 

Of course your sorority had paired with his frat for the Welcome Week Mixer, life just seemed to hate you that way. Everyone was in costume and, of course, Oikawa had somehow managed to complement your angel wings and halo with devil horns and a pitchfork.

“I guess this makes a match made in heaven,” he grinned, gesturing from your costume to his.

You nodded politely and took your hand back. “Or hell,” you muttered under your breath.

Oikawa either didn’t hear you or didn’t care. He leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry, angel, I protect you from all the demons tonight.”

The courtyard was lit up with hundreds of fairy lights and music pulsed through the still night air. You moved closer to the bar, looking for an excuse to get away from the frat president. The menu was empty of usual picks and instead was filled with drinks named after the frat boys. “Oikawa’s Elixir” seemed to be the flavor of the night.

Before you knew it, Oikawa was shoving a vodka cranberry with a pretty little red umbrella into your hands. 

“How did you-?”

“I make an effort to know what my girl likes,” Oikawa said smoothly.

“‘My girl’?” you choked on your sip, giving him a look of utter suspicion.

He shrugged carelessly and smiled at you, “Not yet, but this is only the first party of the year. Plenty of time for us.” 

You sipped your drink, enjoying the flavor and burn of alcohol. As soon as you’d finished, Oikawa grabbed your wrist, causing you to drop the cocktail glass and umbrella to the grass below. 

Then, he dragged you over to the beer pong table. The men at the table all greeted Oikawa with enthusiasm, beckoning him closer. You were dragged into the throng of people despite your protests. 

“She’s on my team,” Oikawa said loudly, “I only play with lucky charms.”

His cologne smelled expensive- it blanketed you with its scent as he guides your hand to throw each ping pong ball. You were losing badly.

“It’s okay, angel,” he said at the end, pulling you close to his chest, “You’re too pretty to lose.”

You didn’t understand what that was supposed to mean. You did lose, after all.

Sorority girls giggled behind red Solo cups and frat boys continued the game with Oikawa. He pulled you close after a particularly good shot and yelled, “That one’s for my angel!”

You peeled yourself away from his chest, feeling dizzy. It’s not the alcohol, you haven’t drank enough to be buzzed, but it’s definitely a mixture of the attention and close contact. His cologne is so strong on you that you feel nauseous.

“I need a break,” you murmured.

“Breaks are for losers,” Oikawa teased, slipping a hand into your back pocket and squeezing. You let out a tiny yelp of surprise and he laughed it off, retrieving his hand and flicking the halo on your head, making it wiggle back and forth. “I’ll allow it, baby, I’m generous like that.”

You slipped away and retreated to a place where the string lights gave way to shadows and the music became a distant pulse. He’s just one of those frat guys, you told yourself, frown pulling on your lips.

For a few minutes, you were alone. But then, a familiar voice was calling out to you from behind. You turned around slowly.

Oikawa had removed the sunglasses, revealing warm brown eyes that didn’t make you feel warm at all when they landed on you. “You sure left in a hurry. Didn’t even thank me for the drink.”

“Thank you for the drink,” you said automatically. 

“How are you enjoying Delta Phi Nu?” he asked.

You blinked at him, “It’s my first day.”

“And it’s already the best day of your life,” Oikawa snickered, “Your sisters are lucky to have you.”

Before you could say anything more, your sorority president appeared in front of you like a blessing in glittery eyeshadow, “Come on, girl, we’re doing the Cupid Shuffle.”

You expected Oikawa to protest, but he merely watched with lidded eyes as you were dragged away. 

—-----------------------------------------------------

You stumbled into Intro to Literature clutching an iced coffee in one hand, still half-asleep. You slid into a seat near the middle of the empty classroom. You had barely opened the syllabus when someone slipped into the seat next to you.

“Morning, Angel!”

You looked up slowly, “You’re in this class?” 

“What- no good morning for me?” Oikawa pouted.

“Why are you in this class? It’s general ed and you’re a senior,” you looked at him suspiciously.

“Had a gap in my schedule,” Oikawa replied, “I heard you were in this class.”

You managed to ignore him throughout the lesson. But when you went to lunch, he was at your table with a loaded tray minutes after you sat down alone.

“You always get fruit with your lunch?” he asked, picking a strawberry from your meal and popping it in his mouth. You gave him a dirty look. “What?” he snickered, “That’s a good thing. I’m just making sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“That’s creepy…” you muttered.

“What kind of future boyfriend would I be if I didn’t make sure you were taking care of yourself?” Oikawa asked playfully.

Your sisters adored it. He started to send flowers and teddy bears and chocolates to the front step of the sorority with notes like “For my lucky charm” or “To the angel who saved my night”.

When you told your president he made you uncomfortable, she just laughed, “Are you crazy? This is like dating the CEO of campus! You think Delta Phi Nu had this much attention last year?”

The rest of the girls didn’t even seem to notice your discomfort. Right now, they fought over who would take the first Instagram picture of the newest gift from Oikawa: a six-foot-tall teddy bear in a varsity jacket.

It felt like everywhere you went, Oikawa or something related to him was there. You found yourself pushing through the crowd of girls and past the teddy bear, no destination in mind. 

You wandered across the grounds for a half hour, finally alone. That’s when you saw him.

A man with blue-black hair stood against the vending machines, clearly at war with the snack machine. He punched the side of it so hard that three bags of trail mix fell from their perch.

He finally noticed you looking and blushed, “...sorry. It stole my money.”

You raised an eyebrow, “It gave you extra.”

“...That’s after it stole my money.” 

You laughed. He looked at you like he couldn’t tell if you were laughing at him or not. 

“I’m (Y/n),” you offered, smiling at him.

“Kageyama Tobio.” 

The two of you took a trail mix each and sat on the bench, chatting casually about the school. He was from a rival frat Kappa Epsilon. You asked him if he liked his frat and he said, “They tried to shave off my eyebrow during initiation.”

You posted a picture to your story- holding a trail mix up to the phone camera and captioning it “Finally got some peace!” 

Kageyama wasn’t in frame. He wasn’t tagged. You couldn’t even see his shadow. Yet, Oikawa’s account commented under it "Kappa Epsilon, huh?”

You didn’t respond. 

An unknown number sent you a picture. You opened up the message and found a picture of you and Kageyama, taken from far away. Your heart stuttered in your chest and you hid your phone when Kageyama asked what was wrong. You gave him a fake smile and said “Nothing! Just- nothing.”

Oikawa, on the other hand, glowered from his hiding spot, where he had taken a photo just moments before. He knew that face, always had. That stupid, awkward stare. Kageyama had taken things from him before. Positions on the volleyball team. Glory. Attention. 

He wasn’t going to take you too.

[imsogonesposts]

Is This Seat Taken?

|| ao3 || an: this is part of a series, but each fic can be read on its own || Not What I Thought Series Masterlist || Finnick Odair Masterlist ||

summary: A modern college AU. Maybe Finnick Odair isn't as bad as you thought he was. (wc: 1046)

Warnings: my knowledge of fraternities, sororities and all that is extremely limited to the movie scream 2 and the show scream queens, so take that with a grain of salt. (yes I got the fraternity name from scream queens, shhh)

Most people knew the name Finnick Odair. It was almost impossible not to, as he was president of Kappa Kappa Tau (KKT for short), the most popular fraternity the University of Panem had to offer. Finnick was the guy almost every girl had a crush on. The guy everyone seemed to flock to, the guy everyone wanted to be friends with, the guy everyone wanted the smallest piece of attention from. The guy who couldn’t help but annoy you the slightest bit due to his and his fraternity brother’s sometimes reckless behavior. 

“Hi, is this seat taken?” A voice asked, causing you to look away from your laptop and up at him- at Finnick. He was dressed in a grey hoodie and sweatpants, his hair disheveled just enough to almost look intentional, his green eyes lookinginto yours as he awaited an answer. 

“No,” you answered, “no, it’s not. Feel free.”

Finnick nodded with a smile placing his Jansport book bag on the floor as he took the seat next to you. Your seats weren'tclose enough to the professor to be called on, but not far enough that you would get distracted easily. 

“I’m Finnick,” he told you suddenly, interrupting your thoughts as you mindlessly scrolled through the last class's notes. 

You nodded as if you didn’t know who he was, as you told him your own name. He repeated the name slowly, as if testing it out before smiling an almost charming smile. “Pretty name,” he told you.

“Thanks, my parent’s picked it,” you replied noncommittally, as Finnick let out a laugh. A genuine, real laugh. 

“So, isn’t it a bit late to be joining the class?” You asked, finally turning to face the boy next to you after his laughter had died down. 

It was true, class had started almost a month ago, and this was the first time you had ever seen Finnick in class.

Finnick shook his head no as he fished a blue notebook out of his bag, followed by a black pen. 

“Nah, I’ve been here the whole time,” he replied, “used to sit in the back with some of my buddies, but I wasn’t doing much but goofing off, so” he shrugs, “thought it’d be better if I sat closer up front. Maybe I could actually learn a thing or two.”

You hummed in response as Professor Beetee began to write a math equation on the board. Luckily, Finnick had taken it as a sign to stop talking, pay attention, and began scribbling notes in his notebook, not interrupting you unless it was to ask a question. 

An hour later, math class was over. 

“So, what’s your major?” Finnick asked as the two of you began packing your stuff away.

“Hm?” You asked as Finnick repeated himself.

“Your major? I just thought if we were gonna be sitting next to each other for the rest of the semester, I should get to know you some more,” Finnick replied with a shrug as he slid his backpack on, carrying it off one shoulder as the other strap hung loosely to the ground. 

You paused at that, furrowing your brows as you asked, “oh, so this’ll be a weekly occurrence?”

Finnick nodded slowly. “I mean, unless you think I’m gonna distract you, or you just don’t want me to sit next to you,” he nervously trailed off, his hand holding that onto the book bag, now drumming against the strap. 

Despite how you felt about him, about fraternities and sororities in general, something inside you told you to just let him sit next to you. Maybe he really did just want to focus more in class and his friends had been distracting him. It wasn’tlike he had been distracting you either, he had left you alone to do your work for the most part. Plus, it would be nice to have a friend in class.

“No, it’s okay, you can still sit here,” you replied softly before telling him your major. 

Finnick smiled, a charming smile that almost made you understand why so many girls in this school seemed to have a crush on him. Seemed to sigh and giggle and twirl their hair whenever he was brought into a conversation. 

“That’s cool,” Finnick replied, “I’m doing marine biology.”

Your eyebrows shot up at that causing Finnick to laugh. 

“I’m guessing that’s a surprise?” he asked through his laugh. 

 You nodded. “Yeah, sorry,” you said through your own, nervous, laugh. “I don’t know, I guess I was just expecting something like business or accounting. Isn’t that what most frat guys major in?”

“Oh, you think I’m in a frat, huh?” Finnick asked, wiggling his eyebrows with a smirk. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his theatrics.  “Everyone knows you’re in a frat, Finnick. Aren’t you the president of the most popular one?”

Finnick smiled. “I am,” he easily replied.

Just as he was about to say something else, a voice from the back of the class interrupted him. A blonde boy with hazel eyes yelled, “Yo, Odair, you coming?”

“Just a sec,” Finnick replied to him before turning back to you with a smile.

“For the record, not all frat guys major in business,” he said, nodding his head toward the blonde boy who had just called for him. “Peeta over there is majoring in the culinary arts.” 

He said “culinary arts” in a horrible French accent that you couldn’t help but laugh at.

“God, that was awful,” you teased as Finnick’s smile seemed to have almost grown twice in size. You could notice the slightest crinkle in the corner of his eyes as he looked at you. 

“I’ll see you next week, then,” Finnick said with a wink before walking up the stairs, to his awaiting friends. “Make sure to save me a seat!” He called out to you as he and his friends made their way to the exit. 

And despite yourself, you couldn’t help but want next week to come, if only to deal with Finnick’s dramatics again. To laugh like that again. You found it was easy to talk to him. Easier than you expected, at least. 

[xelitzenith]

I think people forget when talking about using the zariman to go to tau is that. The zariman is the one thing plugging that rift and if it gets out so many void storms will be created from that, even yonta said something about it in her first interaction.

ask, no we can't move the ship. Something I wasn't sure existed has burst through the Albrecht Membrane and right now the Zariman is plugging that hole. Pop her out and we'd see Void Storms from here to Mercury. Which would be fascinating if memorably horrible. Anyway, feel free to bring me anything you think I might be interested in. That's all!"

[haologram]

how to be a latin lover ♡ h.js (teaser)

♡ synopsis: the dreadful semester has started — meaning your summer vacation has come to end, and so has your summer fling…or has it? ♡ genre: summer fling au ; big dummy dumb idiots to lovers ; ta x student dynamics. ♡ pairing: spanish ta!joshua hong x chaebol!fem!reader | side pairings: lee chan x jung haerim (weki meki) ; wen junhui x lee saerom (fromis_9) ♡ word count: 2.4k | full fic: tba because i don't fucking know. ♡ rating: 18+. minors do not interact, i beg. ♡ warnings: honestly, a little toxic if you squint. lots of pining. hella slow burn. [official warnings: joshua and y/n are absolute idiots. i'm talking the dumbest mfs you've ever encountered, you'll want to scream at them through the screen.] ♡ what to listen to: otro atardecer - bad bunny, the marías ; get to you - mac ayres ; more to come.

Friday, September 16th.

It'd been a little more than a week since you met with Joshua in the library.

And since the two of you officially acknowledged that you'd slept together. What you didn't know was, while he was having his own feelings about the history that weighed the two of you down, he wasn't going to force you to return his affections. In fact…he even felt a bit silly, liking you so much off of three weeks of getting the full experience of…well, you.

Better yet, he wasn't even going to tell you there are any residual feelings on his end. If he knew anything, it was you and your type. If he came off too strong – flowers, a date, chocolates and the like, he'd scare you off even more. You were skittish, like a deer, and he had to either slowly gain your trust…

Or irritate the living hell out of you every chance he got.

Subtle flirting, double entendres, maybe the occasional lingering look. He knew that if he wanted a chance, and man did he want it – he was going to have to work for it. No problem, though. You were definitely worth the wait.

"So, as you can see, the proper conjugation is hablar, not hablando." His laser pointer is steady at the bottom of the projector screen, and he looks up to see half of the class staring intently and the other half jotting down notes. You were neither of the two – your head was resting on Chan's shoulder, eyes low. He cleared his throat, your head jumping up and a wince crossing your features.

Joshua knew Chan was really no threat. The fraternity really liked him, and he was set to move in this weekend. According to Chan's Instagram story, you'd been at his dorm the night before helping him pack up. Saerom had also been there, and Soonyoung – another Beta Tau member. You had been holding a can of Red Bull and in one of the following videos, you were shotgunning another.

"Any questions?" He calls out, and Haerim shoots her hand up. "Yes, Haerim?" "Since this is a conversational class, how would we ask someone out? Or, for their number?"

The classroom fills with childish snickering, and Joshua just smiles as he shakes his head. "Well, I-" "I don't think this is an appropriate question, to be honest." Your voice is heard from the back of the classroom, and Haerim turns in her chair, a wicked smile crossing her lips as Joshua rounds the desk, perched on the edge of it. "And why not, Y/N?" She asks, and Joshua can see you shift uncomfortably in your chair.

"This is Beginner Spanish Conversation, not Coffee Meets Bagel. Flirt on your own time, at your own pace." You scoff, and Haerim's smile only grows wider. It's like she knows something about you, and Joshua notices you begin to bristle slightly. "Why are you so uptight about it, Y/N? It's just a question." "I'm paying for this class, as is everyone else. I think I'd like to appreciate my money's worth by learning something I'll actually use." "Alright, ladies. Honestly, Miss Y/N is partially correct. This is not Café y Rosquilla, but I do think that this is…a learning moment. Asking someone out does involve conversation, you know." Joshua attempts to diffuse, but he can see your subtle annoyance at his siding with Haerim. "So, for example, if I wanted to ask out…" He looks around the room, before a flash of diablerie crosses his eyes. "If I wanted to ask out Miss Y/N, I'd have to make conversation. I'd say…eres muy bonita." "Yeah?! What else?!" You hear Myungjun shout from the far left side of the room, and you can feel Chan's knee bumping yours. You scowl at him, earning a smile as he hides in his hoodie. "I'd say…" Joshua scans your face, and he knows you're probably embarrassed. Embarrassed, but enjoying his subtle attention. He pushes off the desk, pacing in front of the students. "Hm, I'd probably say I like her dress, or me gusta tu vestido."

He watches you cross your legs, tucking the extra fabric of your black dress under your thighs. "Okay, but how do you ask her out!?" Haerim interrupts excitedly, and Joshua is on the first step of the stairs before he catches your eyes again.

"You don't just ask someone out flat out like that. You build repertoire, you make conversation." He rolls his eyes playfully, and you think you're about to get off without any further embarrassment when you hear Chan speak up next to you. "How much repertoire can you even build at this point? Psychology says it only takes two minutes to decide if you like someone." Joshua sees you gape at Chan, before pinching his bicep. Chan pouts in your direction, rubbing his arm as Joshua holds back a laugh. "Psychology also says that there are five components to figuring out if we will have a crush on someone. Physical attraction, proximity, similarity, reciprocity and familiarity. Miss Y/N is very pretty, so physical attraction is checked off. Proximity is also checked, as we see each other three times a week for this class." "What about similarity?" Myungjun pipes up again, making you sink lower in your seat. Joshua is enjoying making you squirm a bit, and he steps up a few more. "Hm, I think that's something I'd have to figure out. Tell me, Miss Y/N, do you enjoy…long walks on the beach?" Your eyes are full of fire, and you'd be almost scary if he didn't notice the way your lip wanted to twitch into a smile. Haerim shouts for you to answer the question, making you send her a scornful look – and she just sticks her tongue out at you like a child. "I do…enjoy long walks on the beach."

"What a coincidence, so do I! Now, we have a similarity. Miss Y/N is familiar, because again, I do see her quite often. Now, it's about reciprocation. This is when you ask the question, this is when you try and make a move." "Shua, how do we make the move!?" Chan asks, and you kick his shin, about to tell him to shut up when Joshua finally reaches your row. He's looking you dead in the eyes, his hand gently wrapping around the edge of your desk. He leans forward, and you can hear the stupid woo-ing of your classmates. "Señorita Y/N, ¿le gustaría salir conmigo?"

Somehow, this all feels like some stupid romcom for the both of you. The class is egging you both on, and Chan is next to you with the most idiotic smile you'd ever seen. You huff, the class is now chanting for you to agree to said…"fake" date.

"No." You say quietly, and Joshua feigns pain. He holds his hand to his heart, a pained expression on his face. "You wound me, Miss Y/N."

He turns to the class, all of which are giving you the dirtiest look ever. "Now, now. This was just an example, don't look at her like that." He scolds, and the class turns back to face the front as he barrels down the steps, checking his watch. 

"Shit, it's already ten past noon. You guys are free to go, and if any of you are taking Psych with Professor Seo Jungkwon, tell him I fulfilled his lecture for the day." This earns a laugh from the class, except you. You're angrily stuffing your laptop into your bag, the class eagerly exiting the room. Chan is holding your arm, apologizing most likely, but you don't seem like you want to hear any of it. By this point, Chan looks a bit like a kicked puppy as he quickly takes the steps down, with you following slowly behind him.

Chan is out the door by the time you make it to the last step, and the classroom is empty.

You arms are crossed as you approach the desk, where Joshua is quietly shutting down the projector. His eyes don't meet yours as he disconnects the machine from the wall, winding the cord up to tie together. "Y/N." He calls gently, and you huff angrily. He bites back a smile.

"Why do you insist on embarrassing me? The first week, it was you running your mouth to my best friend. Last week, you practically held Jeonghan at gunpoint to apologize to me. Today, it's putting me on blast in front of an entire classroom with people I will continue to see for the rest of the year."

"Oh? Was it embarrassing?" He's nonchalant as he looks up, tucking the wrapped cables behind the projector. Your eyes are narrowed, and it seems you've caught onto his little game. "Do you get off on this or something? Knowing you fucked one of your students?" "Hm, not necessarily. And none of what was done was done to embarrass you, per say. It's just decent honesty, and we both know you deserved an apology for Jeonghan's behavior." He states matter-of-factly, making you purse your lips. "What about your behavior? You asked me out in front of all these people!" You gesture to the empty room, and Joshua gives you a small smile. "And you rejected me in front of all of those people. The way I see it, it's a teaching moment."

He's on the same side of the desk as you now, resting against it as you complain. HIs smile seems to be getting under your skin, because you grab his shirt by the collar, pulling his face close to yours before you speak through gritted teeth. "Use someone else as your stupid guinea pig. I don't want to be with you, Hong." You're holding him so close, your lips just barely brushing his. He can't help but scan your face quickly, his hand reaching to brush a stray curl off your face. Your eyes follow his fingers, feeling them tuck the hair behind your ear before he swallows carefully. You can feel your stomach flip slightly as his hand drops, ghosting over your hip as he pushes off the desk, making you slightly stumble back. His fingers grab you gently, pulling you flush to him before his nose is touching yours. "Tell me you don't want me," He whispers, his breath hitting your lips making your lashes flutter closed as you press your lips to his. A whimper escapes his throat as he kisses you back, his grip tightening as your hand lets go of his shirt, your palm resting against his stomach as your other hand holds his waist. The kiss is slow but desperate, your tongue licking into his mouth in the way that drove him crazy over the summer. 

He can't help himself, his hand moving to tangle in your hair, moving his lips down your jaw and exposed neck. A sharp inhale from you as he reaches one of the many sweet spots he'd discovered, a soft whine sounding in his ears making him feel dizzy as he nips at your skin. Pulling back, he holds your face close to his as he speaks again. "Tell me you don't want me, and we can stop this right now. I'll be nothing but professional for the rest of the semester."

He can tell that wasn't what you were expecting. Your eyes are wide and full of mixed emotions, but overall, they flash with a bit of fear. "I…" Your hands move to rest on his hips, a frown on your lips as you let go, and he does the same. His arms cross with an expectant look on his face, and you grimace.

"Stop embarrassing me in front of people, and if you don't have a good reason to talk to me or be near me, don't engage at all." 

He gives you a nod, his smile reappearing as he reaches to wipe your lip gloss from his lips. "That being said, I'm guessing you will not be attending office hours tonight?" Huffing, you look away. "No. I have to help Chan move into the frat house with you and your hooligan friends."

"So I'll see you tonight anyway." He speaks with a grin, and you tongue your cheek. "Leave me alone, Joshua."

You spin on your heel, but his arm is on your elbow before you can walk away. He pulls you back, pulling you into a hug, pressing his lips to your hairline as you hesitantly wrap your arms around him. He speaks against your hair, "One more. For the road."

"Joshua." You groan, trying to hide the giddy feeling spreading in your stomach. He smiles at you, planting a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Just one, and I'll let you slam out of here like we were arguing."

You roll your eyes, but let him slot his lips with yours, the minty taste of him still lingering from the previous kiss. This one is much gentler, the warmth of his body against yours comforting as he pulls away with a chaste kiss. And another. And another.

"You said one." You grumble, swatting at his side to make him let you go. He smiles, his thumb coming to wipe at your lips. Your lipgloss is gone entirely, just glitter remaining. "Mmh. I'll see you later." "Whatever." You pull away from him, and he watches as you slam your way out of the classroom, a few students from your class still lingering in the hallway catching his eye. They look questioning, but he just shrugs as the door closes. He sighs as he looks around the empty lecture hall, a glimmer on the third step up calling his eyes. 

Making his way towards the steps, he sees the gold plating of a seven-pointed star, a message engraved in the back. 

For my brightest star, Y/N.

Picking it up, the diamonds mock him.

He feels slightly stupid to think this is fate, while knowing that once you realize it's gone, you'll be panicking. It seems nothing is really going right for you these days – your car being hit, fighting with Saerom, not being able to stand your ground against him…and now your necklace is 'gone'. He wants to be selfish and say it's because you're being a bit of a jerk to him.

So he'll believe that.

haologram © 2024 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[signanothername]

What makes an Undertale AU like interesting and fun to get into?? I’ve always wanted to make one but I’m terrified no one will like it

Ok before i answer i’d like to make it clear that my answer is not objective or correct, i’ll only be talking about my own point of view of what makes an AU interesting to get into (it’ll also be a good idea for you to ask this question to different people to see their point of view, so you’d get an idea of what people usually care about)

So with that in mind, for me it’s the uniqueness of the Au

But don’t get me wrong with this point, what I mean by uniqueness of the Au is whether the Au’s concept take interesting twists and turns, the base concept or main idea can be like other Aus or it can have similarities with other Aus it’s fine

To elaborate further, let’s take a look at “Something New” and “Dusttale”, both Aus’ main concepts are Sans killing everyone in the underground, but this is where the similarities end, cause we can all agree that Killer and Murder couldn’t be further from being different, with different motives, different stories, different characteristics, etc

It’s completely fine if the Au has similarities with other Aus, but what does the Au have that’s different/unique about it? Does it explore something that’s been explored before but with its own unique take? Or does it explore a new idea/story?

To give you an example, @byrdblood ‘s TAU is an Au that I was immediately immersed into, and while it focuses on the Nightmare gang (which so many other Aus do btw), Keegan is using their amazing Au to explore concepts in so much depth and detail that nobody usually explores, which are all also explored through the pov of their own unique character called “Abaddon” (my beloved), who Keegan uses to explore their own ideas, what I’m saying, is that while Keegan is using characters that people have used before in so many stories and Aus, Keegan still brought his own unique take on the characters with emphasis on exploring traits and characteristics that people usually don’t really think of, all while bringing his own new and unique character into the mix to explore Abaddon’s unique story as they try to reach their happy ending (correct me if I’m wrong about any info here Keegan i’ve yet to read the carrd in full hchchcch)

Hell, you don’t have to bring in an idea, your Au can simply be unique by exploring a story through the eyes of a character that isn’t usually used in the fandom, for example, i always immediately get hooked to any Au that has Papyrus as the main focus! I really love Papyrus (and believe it or not, but in terms of favorite characters, Papyrus has always been my number one fave character, i prefer him over Sans actually), so when i see Aus exploring Papyrus in a fandom that explores Aus through Sans most of the time? I literally melt with joy, an example of this is the forgettable Au that I’m shaking with excitement to see what its creator has in store for it (the prologue starts tomorrow OML EEEEE)

But i still want to emphasize again that it’s ok for the Au to have similarities with other Aus, we all get inspired by each other and we all have our own fave things to explore even if it was explored a hundred times before, so please don’t get worked up about whether your Au is “unique enough”, or assume that you have to make up a completely new concept that has never ever been explored before for your Au to be interesting, cause believe me, people will recognize your hard work and the love you bore in your own Au, regardless of whether it explores a unique concept or not

With all this in mind, i’d like to emphasize again that this is all from my point of view, my answer isn’t an objective answer that should be taken as a rule for how you should make your own Au

And i have a genuine small advice, when you make the Au, make it so YOU enjoy it, not so it gets popular or that other people love it, i completely understand the desire to have what you worked so hard on and what you love shared with people so people will also love it, i genuinely understand it, but if you only make the Au with whether people would enjoy it or not in mind, it’ll only make you perceive your Au as some sort of burden that you have to perfect or that you have to make into something you yourself don’t even enjoy just so other people love it

And y’know, allow me to get a bit personal here

But I say this as someone who used to base my art and ideas/stories’ worth on numbers and likes and reblogs, etc, by the time i reached 2021? I actually genuinely and legitimately hated my own art, and it reached a point in which i was genuinely contemplating to quit making art altogether, but then i remember taking a 4 months break from social media after, and in that break, i continued making art without posting at all, in which i would literally cry cause i genuinely couldn’t even love what i made anymore, but i still pushed and continued making art, and it took me 3 months before i started liking what i made again, those 4 months reminded me what was genuinely important, why i made art in the first place, I made art cause I love it, i made art cause I enjoy it

And i made the decision after that numbers will never be my priority ever again, i’d be completely lying if i told you that it was easy to let go of the habit to care about numbers (and sometimes even get back to that habit from time to time), but it wasn’t easy at all, it took time, effort, and so much self discipline, but i actually did reach a point where I genuinely just don’t really care, but do you know what helped me not care? I stopped seeing my notes as numbers and start seeing them as people

Cause even if I get 1 single like or 1 single reblog, it is still one person who took time of their day to like/reblog the thing i made

What I’m saying, is there’s no way your Au will never be loved by anyone at all (it’s literally statistically impossible) even if it’s one singular person, someone is absolutely bound to care about your Au, and please cherish the people who care and love your Au even if they’re few, cause even if they’re few, they still love the thing you made y’know? And would definitely love to see what you do with it

And i’ll be the first, if/when you make your Au? Please send it over, i’d love to see your Au and know what it’s about if it’s ok with you (i’ll also reblog the main post you make about it so more people know about it and hopefully love it)

Good luck with it! Don’t let this fear stop you from doing what you love <3333

[smileysuh]

ghostie

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call. He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend.  You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you. Five minutes turns into ten, turns into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut. You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.

tw/cw. yandere/stalker subthemes, unknown caller, weed use, multiple reader orgasms, big dick!Johnny, oral, pussy eating, blowjob, deep throating, spit as lube, fingering, hand riding, dacryphilia, praise, dirty talk, cum/fullness kink, unprotected sex, heavy grinding, dick bulge, creampie, rough groping, slight restraint, size kink, submissive reader, subspace, dumbification, hair pulling, finger sucking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, good girl, pretty girl. (his) Ghostie.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 15k

🍭 aus. uni/frat au, yandere subthemes, Halloween, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. this might just be the best John fic I've ever written, or maybe I just need therapy

Sunday 

You pause your movie when your phone rings and you look down at the screen. The number is unknown, and you briefly consider not even answering it. However, you’ve had two job interviews in the past week, and you don’t want to miss any opportunities, so with a sigh, you bring your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Tiny, how’s your night going?”

Definitely not a prospective employer. Your sorority gave you the name Tiny during first year, something to do with the ‘tiny’ shots you always want to take, and only those within the Greek system use it on you. On top of the Greek-specific term of endearment, the man on the other end of the line is using a voice modulator of some sort, and it makes it impossible for you to identify him.

Your curiosity is sparked. 

“Who is this?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You sigh, leaning back against your bed and setting your laptop to the side. “I get that Scream is having a comeback, but this whole ‘calling a girl and being mysterious’ thing won’t get you laid anytime soon.”

“Are you sure about that?” You can hear a hint of laughter in the man’s voice.

“If you’re not going to tell me who you are, I’ll hang up.”

“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” There’s a pause then, “Let’s just say, a mutual friend gave me your number. They thought we’d hit it off.”

“Whoever this ungendered mutual friend is, I doubt they expected you to call me with a voice modulator and act out a Ghost Face fantasy. I get that Halloween is a week away, but come on… you can’t be serious about this.” 

“I am serious. Come on Tiny, live a little.” 

“You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you, Mister Ghost Face.” 

“I’ve got good reason to be, trust me on that.”

You let out a deep sigh, going through your roster of men who might think this sort of thing would be funny. “Yunho? Is this you getting high again?” 

“Wrong frat, but good guess. I didn’t know Alpha Tappa Zeta’s star quarterback was a stoner, thanks for the info, Tiny.” 

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself. You hadn’t meant to throw Yunho under the bus like that.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone about his… habits. That would be hypocritical of me.”

You search your mind for the stoners you know. Ones who would have the balls to call you like this. 

“Do you want to take another guess? I’ll give you three chances. You have two more.”

Aside from ATZ, you spend a lot of time with Sigma Veta Tau. Soonyoung is a well-known blunt roller in the fraternity system, but he wouldn’t do a charade like this. He’s very open about hitting on you any time you’re at one of his parties. 

“Jeonghan?” you ask.

“Last guess, Tiny.” 

He doesn’t confirm or deny if you’ve gotten the frat right, but you can’t really see any other SVT members who would fit this mysterious man’s profile. 

Your mind wanders to Nu Chi Theta. They’ve got quite a few weed lovers there, and you’ve been invited into many closed-room smoke sessions with the dirty NCT boys. 

There’s Yuta, and he’d definitely have the gall to entertain a flirtation like this. However, you don’t know of any mutual friends who would ever set you up with him. With another sigh of irritation, you throw out the last name on your shortlist of stoner acquaintances. 

“Hyuck? Please tell me this isn’t you.”

“Close but no cigar.” 

“I don’t like this game.”

“You’re not supposed to like it, but it is entertaining, don’t you think?”

“What’s your angle with all of this?” you question. “If you’re not going to tell me who you are, then what’s the point of calling?”

The line is silent for a few moments. “I guess… I just wanted to talk to you a little, is that so bad?”

Your heart softens, if only momentarily. “Then grow some balls and ask me out like a real man.”

“Where would be the fun in that?” The mystery man lets out a short chuckle, and your irritation only grows. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really annoying?”

“A few times actually.”

“Well, you’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met and I haven’t even met you.”

“Yes, you have.”

“God, I’m tired of this. Goodnight.” 

You don’t even wait for an answer, you simply hang up.

Despite trying to get back to your movie, you can’t get the mystery man out of your head. When you go to bed you can’t even sleep, your mind completely full of all the possibilities of who your caller could have been. 

You’ll have to do some digging tomorrow. You can’t not figure out who this guy is- and you know just the fratboy to give you all the details you could need.

Monday

Mark Lee is always fifteen minutes early, even when it comes to an 8am class. You feel like shit after tossing and turning all night, so when you slide into the seat next to him in the back of the class, he gives you a once over and his lips part in shock.

“Are you okay?”

“No, Mark, I’m not okay,” you snap, regretting it a moment later- after all, Mark’s not the one doing this to you. “Someone called me from an unknown number last night. A frat guy, I’m not sure who. He was using this voice modulator-”

“That sounds hella sketchy.”

“Super sketchy,” you agree. 

“I know it’s October and everything, but that’s a weird way to hit on a girl.”

“That’s what I said!” Mark always understands you. “He said a mutual friend gave him my number, thought we’d be cute together or something- whoever it was, I need to strangle them.”

“Is this friend a girl or a guy?”

“Mystery man wouldn’t tell me,” you groan.

“So… this dude could be literally anyone.”

“Not Yunho from Alpha Tappa Zeta, Jeonghan from Sigma Veta Tau, and not your roommate Hyuck. The guy gave me three guesses,” you explain, “the hint is that he’s a stoner.”  

“Lots of frat guys are stoners.”

“Exactly,” you sigh, leaning back in your seat. 

“What are you going to do if he calls you again?” Mark asks. “This kind of feels like stalker behavior.”

“It does,” you admit. “But at the same time, he calls me Tiny, and he says we’ve met before- when I asked what he even got out of the phonecall he said he just wanted to ‘talk to me a little,’ which, I don’t know, for some reason I feel like he’s not a stalker.” 

Mark gives you a look that says ‘You’re crazy,’ and after listening to everything that just spewed out of your own mouth, maybe you kind of agree with him.

 “So if he calls you again…” Mark reasks his earlier question, one you’d chosen to ignore.

But you can’t ignore it now, and you let out a deep breath.

“If he calls again… We’ll see what happens.”

“Tiny-”

“Mark,” you counter, knowing he’s about to chastise you. But you don’t want to hear it. If even he doesn’t have any idea of who your mystery caller could be, you simply can’t give up. If you never find out who this ‘Ghost Face’ dude is, you’ll feel unsolved for the rest of your life and you know it.

“Look, I’ll ask around a little,” Mark concedes.

You let out a squeal of delight, throwing your arms around your closet fratboy friend. He lets out a chuckle, gently squeezing you back. 

Mark’s a good guy. 

If only you were into good guys and not sleazy stoners calling you while getting a hard-on for being Ghost Face.

Monday pt 2

It’s nine o'clock and you’re starting to get tired while you study. You’re in need of a distraction, so when your phone rings with an unknown number, your heart practically jumps into your throat.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Tiny.”

“Wow, Mister Ghost Face,” you laugh, twirling in your spinny chair, “two nights in a row. You must really like me, huh?”

The laugh he lets out sounds genuine, even though his voice is obscured still. For some reason, the noise makes you grin, and you can’t believe you’re actually kind of having fun with this.

“I do like you,” the mystery man confirms. “Tell me about your day.”

“Tell you about my day?” You’re in shock.

“Uh huh.”

“No teasing or nothing? No three guesses about your identity?” 

“I’ll tell you what,” he lets out a sigh, “like you said, Halloween is in a week. If you keep letting me call you until then, I’ll reveal myself when you come to the party.”

“The party?” you repeat. “You make it sound like there’s only one frat party on Halloween.”

“Only one worth going to.”

“Is that so?” He’s so cocky- why does that turn you on? 

“Yup. In fact, I know you agree with me on this, because the past two Halloweens, you’ve come to my frat.” 

Your body freezes. He’s just given you a massive hint-

“So you’re an NCT boy?”

“Wouldn’t call myself a boy, and neither would you if you saw what's in my pants.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat, not sure how to even respond to the suggestive comment he’s just made. 

The man on the other end of the line lets out a chuckle. “Sorry, I’m two blunts deep. I should watch what I say to you, that's why I asked about your day.”

“You don’t have to- watch what you say, I mean.”

“Yeah?” You can almost picture him leaning back in a chair, a large half-chub growing in his pants- “Are you getting horny from a mystery man on your phone? Dirty girl.”

“Dirty guy,” you counter, “trying to entice me by saying your dick is big.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

“I’m intrigued,” you admit, “but not only because of your cock.”

“It’s a nice cock.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you about my day,” you sidestep. “Had an early class with Mark Lee, you must know Mark.”

“Of course.”

“Well, he has no clue who you could be.”

“You talked about me.” 

You can hear him smiling. 

“I bet you couldn’t even sleep last night. Too busy trying to figure out who I am.”

Okay, maybe he is a bit of a stalker. Or maybe he just knows you well… who the fuck is this guy?

“Stop being so cocky,” you insist.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” 

“Mark told me you’re probably a stalker, said I should maybe block your number.”

“I don’t have a number, if I did, that would be too easy for you. I’m an unknown caller… can you even block unknown callers?” 

“I guess we’ll find out when I block you.”

“Won’t happen though. What did you do after your class with Mark?”

“Are you really that interested in my day?” 

“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t interested.”

He’s a cocky softy, who would have imagined. 

You wonder what you ever did to make this guy so sweet on you- you’ve dated men who don’t even care to ask you how your day went, and this guy is out here doing it practically for free.

“Classes were okay, my sorority had a little fundraiser at lunch, we baked cupcakes.”

“They were good cupcakes.” 

“Wait…” your stomach churns a little. “You stopped by?”

“I’m a sucker for cupcakes, and how cute your butt looks in blue jeans.”

You search your memory, counting how many NCT boys came through around lunch. You realize that there were far too many for it to do any good in deciphering which one is the man you’re currently talking to.

“Did we talk?”

“You talked to everyone who bought something. I’m not special.”

Except… he kind of is special, in a way you can’t truly explain… not yet anyways.

“Maybe you are a stalker,” you decide.

“I can promise you I’m not, but I bet you’d be kind of into it if I was.”

This guy makes you feel such conflicting emotions, you’re not sure how to even handle him.

“Look, I was studying when you called-”

“Right, you should get back to that.”

“I should.”

“Sleep tight, Tiny. It’s been nice talking to you.”

Part of you wants to return the sentiment, it feels second nature, but the words stop on your tongue. In all fairness, it hasn’t been particularly nice talking to the mystery Ghost Face guy. 

Instead of saying anything else, you simply hit him with a “Bye,” and you hang up the phone.

However, you don’t get back to studying, you immediately call Mark.

He sounds groggy as he says “Hello?”

“Did I wake you?”

“No.”

“I just got a call from that guy again. He’s definitely one of your frat brothers, and he’s high right now.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down,” Mark sighs. “We sort of uh… all got high at the fire after dinner.”

“Mark Lee!” you screech.

“Sorry, sorry!” Mark groans. “I’ll uh… ask around some more. We’ll figure out who this dude is.”

“And if we don’t… he said he’d tell me who he is at your frat Halloween bash at the end of the week.” 

It’s Monday now, and the party is on Saturday. That means you’ll only have to wait a few days… you can hold out for a few days… can’t you?

Tuesday

You read over the email a third time, but it doesn’t make anything better. The words ‘We regret to inform you that you have not been chosen for the position’ make your eyes begin to well with tears.

Quickly exiting your phone, you grab your things. You refuse to cry in the middle of the library-

The bathroom will have to do the trick, and you hurry to get there, holding back the choked sob that longs to slip out of you.

You’d thought for sure this interview would land you a job on campus. The interview had gone well, or so you’d thought.

You don’t even know why you’re getting so upset about this. 

There’s just something so devastating about rejection. 

You get to the bathroom quickly, shutting yourself into a stall before you allow the tears to fall again. You cradle your face in your hands, allowing the sadness to overwhelm you.

It’s important to have a good cry every now and again, and you definitely need this.

Your cries, however, are interrupted by your phone ringing in your pocket. Wiping at your face, you reach for the device, lifting it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Are you okay?” 

“I really don’t have time for this right now, Ghost-” you groan, closing your eyes at the familiar voice-modulated sound.

“You do have time,” he insists. “Tell me what happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just saw you running through the library. Looked like you were crying.”

“I wasn’t crying!” you nearly yell. 

“Liar. Come on, Tiny, let Ghostie make you feel better.”

The affectionate-sounding nickname prompts you to wipe your eyes. “Are you sure you’re not a stalker?”

“I was in the library, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“Was?”

“I’m gone now, can’t have you figuring out who I am before Halloween.”

“Would it really be so bad if I did?” you question. “It would make me feel better.”

“Look at you, using your bad experience to try to swindle me,” you hear him laugh, and there are more sounds now, as if he’s walking across campus. “Seriously, Tiny, tell me what’s going on.”

“Do you always walk around campus with a voice modulator?”

“It’s an app on my phone babe, now answer my question.” 

“You didn’t ask a question, you commanded me to tell you what happened, and I’m not taking commands right now.”

He sighs. “Will you please tell me what’s making you cry?”

Your lower lip trembles. “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing that hurts you is stupid.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“It looked like you needed a friend.”

“You’re not my friend. You’re some guy who got my number and gets hard by pretending to be Ghost Face from Scream.”

“I could be your friend. Could be more than your friend. And I’m not hard right now. Not after seeing you cry.” 

You take a breath. “I applied for a job and I uh… they didn’t hire me.”

“Then they’re stupid.”

“Maybe I’m stupid.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m a girl who’s spent three days talking to a guy who keeps his identity a secret, and for some crazy reason, you’re actually making me feel better. That definitely makes me stupid.”

“No, it makes you soft. It’s one of the things I like about you.”

“Yeah?” you sniffle. “What else? And don’t say my ass in blue jeans.”

The man chuckles. “You’re soft, and kind. But you’re a fighter too. You’ve got a spark. Don’t even get me started on how smart you are-”

“And how would you know how smart I am?”

“For starters, you’re in the top-scoring sorority on campus,” he points out. “Whenever you come to trivia night, you wipe the floor with all of us. Mark talks constantly about how much you help him with his classes, which brings me to my next point, you care about charity. That’s a great sign of your character.” 

“You do know a lot about me, don’t you, Ghostie?” His words have stopped your tears, and you cradle your phone close to your ear. 

“Still not a stalker though.”

Now he even has you laughing. “Jury’s still out on that one.”

“You sound better already,” he muses. “Mark has a free block right now, I’m sure if you call him he’d take you for ice cream or something to distract you.”

“That’s a good idea,” you admit.

“I’m full of good ideas.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, Tiny.”

Tuesday pt 2

“This guy sounds like a full-on stalker,” Mark says for the sixth time as you grab ice cream and sit inside while a storm passes, rain splattering the windows.

“I mean, if he knew your schedule, I’m guessing he’s someone close to you.”

“He’s stalking us both, I don’t like it.”

“But he’s nice.”

“He’s stalking you, Tiny!” 

“He’s not!” you insist. “A lot of people were at the library today… honestly, I think… I think Ghostie is kind of sweet.”

“Ghostie?!” Mark stares at you in shock. “You’re calling him Ghostie now?”

“It’s cute, right?”

“It’s crazy is what it is!” Mark leans back in his seat, frowning. “This is giving me the creeps.”

“Well, it’s spooky season.”

“If I’m being honest, I don’t think any of my frat brothers would pull crazy shit like this. They’re mostly pretty chill dudes.”

“So you think he’s lying about being in NCT?” you ask, cocking your head to the side.

“I think he’s definitely lying,” Mark confirms.

“Well, agree to disagree.”

Mark studies you for a moment. “Look, the only guy who’s a freak like this is Yuta and he swore up and down to me yesterday that he’s not calling you with a fucking voice modulator.” 

“I don’t think this is Yuta.”

“Because you’re a Ghostie expert now, huh?” He scoffs loudly.

“Yuta’s not really a stoner,” you point out. “And besides, I can’t explain why I know it’s not him, I just have a feeling.”

“Yeah, is that feeling in your pussy by any chance?” 

“Mark Lee!” you gasp, scandalized by his choice of words. 

“Be real with me!” he insists. “You wouldn’t be entertaining this if it wasn’t… I don’t know, turning you on? Are you turned on by stalkers? Is this why you like Halloween so much?”

“Okay, maybe I am turned on, but that doesn’t make me a bad person.”

“It just makes you crazy,” Mark groans, running a hand through his hair. “I swear to God, when the dude reveals himself at the frat party, it better be one of my frat brothers and not a serial killer. And also, I’m going to fight him.”

“Something tells me he’d beat you,” you giggle.

“Now you’re trying to make me feel bad.”

“Says the guy who just called me crazy.” You grin, knowing that you’ve won.

“This whole thing is crazy.”

He has a point about that.

Wednesday

You’ve been waiting all day for a call from Ghostie, and it comes right before you’re about to head to bed. You practically launch yourself at your phone, putting it on speaker and saying “Hello?” as if you don’t know who’s on the other end of the line.

“Hey you, feeling better today?”

“You tell me, mister stalker.”

“I haven’t actually seen you today, it was a bit of a shame if I’m being honest.”

“Yeah?” God, this man has way too much power over you. “And why’s that, Ghostie?”

“Because I’ve been looking at your Instagram, but you’re cuter in person.”

“Do you follow me?” 

“We’re mutuals.” 

You’re mutuals with pretty much the entire NCT frat, it would have been more helpful if he’d said he’s not a follower, although, now that you think of it, that had always been unlikely. 

“Still trying to figure out who I am, aren’t you, Tiny?”

“Of course.”

“Remember when I was listing your good qualities? Patience wasn’t one of them.” 

“That’s so rude of you,” you say, although, you’re grinning at your phone.

“Here, I’ll make it better. I have an idea for you.”

“Let’s hear it then.” You get comfortable on your bed, wondering what he’s about to say.

“If you want a job, there’s this bar on campus, Skeets. Have you heard of it?”

“Who hasn’t heard of Skeets?” You roll your eyes. 

“They let just about anyone work there. A few of the NCT guys are bartenders, I’m sure they’d put a good word in for you with the hiring manager, he’s also a member of the frat.” 

You haven’t been to Skeets in ages, and you try to remember who you know amongst the staff. “Wait, you’re right- doesn’t Hyuck work there?”

“He does… This is the second time you’ve mentioned him, got something of a crush, Tiny?”

“Would that make you jealous?” you tease.

“I’m not the jealous type,” he states. “But yeah… it would.”

“Don’t get your Ghost Face mask in a knot, I don’t have a crush on Hyuck. In fact, if you turn out to be Hyuck and I find out you lied to me about your identity, I’m going to be really mad.” 

“I’m not Hyuck.”

“Good.” You consider his proposition for a moment. “Do you really think they’d hire me?”

“It doesn’t hurt to try.”

“You know, on Sunday, if someone had told me you’d be helping me find a job not three days later, I would have said they were crazy.”

“Guess I like to keep you on your toes.”

“I think you just have a major soft spot for me. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I can’t. I promised not to lie to you.” 

God, he makes you so giddy it’s insane. 

“Are you going to come stalk me at Skeets if they give me a job?”

“Goodnight, Tiny.” He’s avoiding the question, and you can hear him grinning through the phone.

“Night, Ghostie.”

It’s the first time he’s the one to hang up on you, and it leaves you wanting more.

Thursday

Ghostie had assured you that Skeets hires just about anyone, but that doesn’t help the anxiety building inside of you as you prepare to take your resume into the bar. 

You even do a Wonderwoman pose outside while waiting for Skeets to open, breathing deeply to psych yourself up while you go over possible interview questions just in case the hiring manager wants a chit-chat today.

“I love working in a team environment,” you say quietly to yourself, closing your eyes and running through responses. “The most important thing is that the guests feel welcome.”

The sound of something dragging across the cement ground has you practically jumping, lids flashing open as your head whips toward the noise.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your mantra,” the tall fratboy laughs, setting up the wooden sign with the daily drink menu just in front of the door to the bar.

“It’s fine,” you assure him, swallowing thickly. 

The man in front of you is Johnny Suh. He’s two years older than you, and you know him through Mark. When guys join a frat, they’re assigned a ‘Big,’ an elder frat brother to guide them through the process. Johnny is Mark’s big, and he’s always been nice to you whenever you’ve crossed paths.

You would call Johnny an acquaintance, not a friend, but he’s still a friendlier face than you may have expected to see upon your first moments interacting with Skeets staff. 

“You coming inside, Tiny?” Johnny asks.

“Yeah, sorry John, one sec, I just need another deep breath.” You wave your hand at him, turning your back and gulping down air while you hold your bag tight to your front, the resume within practically burning a hole in the leather.

The hot fratboy heads back inside and you finish calming yourself down. 

You can do this. You can get this job.

As you enter the bar that’s just open, you realize there are only a few staff members kicking around so far. Kim Jungwoo is rearranging chairs, and Lee Donghyuck is sitting on a table looking at his phone. Johnny Suh is behind the bar, and you decide you should probably talk to him, so you try to act confident as you walk through the small establishment.

Johnny’s brown eyes raise as you approach, and he offers you a small smile. “Tough day?”

“What?” You blink at him, settling against the bartop.

“You looked kind of off outside, and most people don’t come in to day-drink this early.”

“Oh, uh… I’m not here to day-drink.” You let out a tiny laugh. “Actually, I came to see if you guys were looking to hire new staff members, I brought my resume.”

You reach into your bag to pull out the papers, and you hand them over to Johnny.

His eyes scan the first sheet. “Wow, a cover letter, I’ve actually never seen one of these.”

People don’t apply with cover letters? The idea is kind of shocking to you.

Johnny hardly looks at your resume, setting it down in front of him to address you instead. “What makes you want to work at Skeets?”

“In all honesty, I need a job. I’m dependable, and I’ve got a decent schedule to work in the food service industry. I like working as part of a team, and I’m already friends with a lot of the staff here, so I thought it might be a good fit.”

Johnny nods, assessing you. “Have you bartended before?”

“I’ve got my qualifications to serve alcohol, but I’ve mostly had waitressing jobs,” you admit.

“At Skeets, we all do a bit of everything. Would you be open to learning how to mix drinks?”

“I’d be very open to it,” you nod. 

“Then let’s give it a shot,” Johnny smiles warmly at you. “You’ve got good timing, we actually just had to let go of someone for excessive drinking on the job. I was going to put a wanted ad up today, but looks like that won’t be necessary.”

“Are you…” you swallow thickly, “are you serious? I’m hired?”

“Yeah, why not?” 

You can’t help the squeal of delight that rushes through you, and a massive grin makes its way onto your face. You even jump a little, and Johnny seems to enjoy your excitement, smiling from ear to ear while you celebrate. 

“When can you start?” he asks next.

“I can start tomorrow! I mean, if you need me that soon.”

“Tomorrow is a big night here at Skeets, the Friday before Halloween. We could use the hands, but it will be a busy one, do you think you can handle that?”

You’re quick to nod. “Of course. But I uh… I should let you know, I can’t work Halloween, I promised a friend I’d meet them at your frat for the party.”

“Don’t worry about Saturday,” Johnny assures you. “Sigma Veta Tau has their frat party tonight, so it’s all us NCT guys working, and tomorrow we’ll switch. As much as Seungcheol is a good comanager, I don’t trust him to teach you how to mix drinks on Halloween.”

“So… you’re going to be the main person training me then?” you ask.

“If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself,” he confirms. 

You can’t help but beam up at the tall frat boy, overjoyed at this turn of events. As cute as Johnny is though, part of you is excited to tell Ghostie about this when he inevitably calls you tonight. 

Your life is definitely a little crazy.

“So, how about you come in tomorrow at seven?” Johnny suggests. “The bar will be open past midnight, but I figure I can show you a few things before it gets busy around ten, and then I can let you go early.”

“I’ll be here at seven.”

“And when it comes to what you’re wearing, we’ll give you a Skeets t-shirt,” he pulls at the black fabric stretched tight across his broad chest. “Other than that, you can wear any color of jeans and some sneakers.”

“Perfect.”

“You’ll be paid for the training shift, I’ll tip you out in cash, and if it goes well, we’ll get your banking details at your next shift after that,” Johnny explains. “I’ve got your number here on your resume, so I’ll be in contact with you on Sunday, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds like a dream.” You literally can’t stop smiling.

“Tiny’s going to learn to mix,” Johnny says fondly, “Mark’s going to love this.”

You already feel close to Mark’s big, and the opportunity to work with him is a good one. Johnny is one of the more well-known nice guys at the frat. Sure, he’s got a little bit of a dangerous edge to him, just based on his massive stature alone, but he’s generally a big softy bear. 

“Thanks again for this, Johnny,” you beam. “I won’t let you down.”

Thursday pt 2

“Hyuck said our favorite Tiny sorority princess got herself a job today.” 

“Hello to you too, Ghostie.”

“I wanted to cut to the chase and congratulate you.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten the job without you,” you admit. “So… thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” your mystery man says, and you can hear that classic grin of his. “I’m sure you got it on your own merit.”

“Apparently no one’s ever brought a cover letter with their resume before.”

“They must have been impressed.” 

“Hired me on the spot.”

“That’s my girl.” 

Your insides flutter. You like the way it sounds when he calls you his girl. “How about your day, Ghostie? Stalk any new girls?”

He laughs. “Only one girl worth stalking, which, I don’t do, by the way.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“My day was long,” he says finally.

“Yeah, it’s nearly midnight, I was thinking about going to sleep but…”

“But you wanted me to call,” Ghostie finishes your sentence for you.

“When you say it like that it sounds kind of depressing.”

“It’s not depressing, Tiny, it’s cute.”

“Cute?” 

“I like that you’re getting used to me.”

“You know… if you decided not to show up to the Halloween party- if you never called again, I think… I’d wonder who you are the rest of my life.” It’s a moment of vulnerability, and your heart races in your chest while you wait for his response. 

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Tiny,” Ghostie promises. “I’ll find you on Saturday, and not in a stalker way.”

“What costume are you going to be wearing?” 

“If I tell you, you’ll just show up and scour the whole place looking for me.”

“You know me too well, don’t you, Ghostie?”

“What are you going to wear, pretty girl?”

You literally kick your feet at the term of endearment, body buzzing. It takes a moment to collect yourself. “Honestly? I’ve got a Ghost Face mask hanging around somewhere.”

“And here I was being told I’m the one who gets hard pretending to be Ghost Face.” 

“Well… even though I don’t know you, not really, I think I got that one pretty accurate, didn’t I?”

“Maybe a little.”

“I thought you said you were big,” you tease.

“Okay, maybe a lot.”

You bite at your lip. After the great day you’ve had, it’s difficult not to feel flirty. “Are you hard right now, big guy?”

He groans, and even under the voice modulator, something tells you the sounds he makes are sexy as fuck. You can feel your panties getting wet. It’s dirty, but in the best possible way.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you grin.

“You’re being bad, Tiny.”

“Says the guy who’s literally hard right now.”

The other end of the line is silent for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

“What if… when we meet, you’re not interested in me?”

Well, this has just taken a turn. How did you go from horny thoughts to insecurity? 

It’s a valid question though, one you should have asked yourself by now, but for some reason you haven’t. You think about it for a few seconds. 

“I feel like… I know it’s been less than a week of talking but, you’re not like any other guy I’ve ever met. And not just because you’re calling with a voice modulator.” You let out a laugh. “You ask how my day is, and you care to hear my answer. You even helped me get a job, which is crazy to think about. For some weird reason, I think when I meet you, the emotional connection is already kind of there, so no matter what you look like, you’ll be more attractive to me.”

“You really think so?” 

“I mean, NCT is known for having hot guys, so I’m not sure who you could be that would turn me off. There are only a few NCT guys I’d say a hard no to at the moment.”

“Yeah? Who?” 

“Well, Doyoung and I have never gotten along, but I know you’re not him because he doesn’t touch weed. I dated Jeno for about a week, and I know enough about him to know I don’t want to do anything with him ever again, and also, that you’re not Jeno because he’d never ask me how my day was going-”

“What an asshole.”

You laugh. “All things considered, Ghostie, I think you’ll do just fine.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Is this why you’ve been doing the whole voice modulator thing? You’re worried I won’t be interested in you?”

“It’s one of the reasons,” Ghostie admits. “I also worried that if I did hit on you, you might think I was only trying to get you into my bed, which, yeah, it would be nice, but… as perfect as your body is, it’s not the most interesting thing about you.”

What a scrumptious take; A guy calling you up and using anonymity to prove to you that this connection isn’t only about sex. 

Your heart softens.

“Ghostie, you might be one of the sweetest guys I know,” you admit.

“More than your best friend Mark Lee?”

You laugh. “Maybe not, Mark would never do something like this. You’re a bit of a paradox that way, aren’t you?”

“If you say so, Tiny. As much as I’ve liked this talk, I think I should let you sleep. Halloween is two days away and I’m sure we’ve both got a lot to do before then.”

“What if I don’t want you to go just yet?”

“Then I’d remind you that patience is a virtue.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“Good thing we have an emotional connection so you’ll forgive me for it. Night, Tiny.”

“Night, Ghostie.” 

Friday 

Your first shift consists of shadowing Johnny. He’s a fabulous teacher. He’s calm, patient, and very encouraging. The first few hours are a breeze, but the bar gets increasingly packed as the night goes on.

It’s a little overwhelming, but Johnny helps keep you steady. He gives you the easy drink orders, things like beer and simple cocktails. While you’re filling a cup from the beer tap, he’s busy mixing five to ten different things into one glass for items on the Halloween special menu.

There’s something sexy about a diligent worker, and his beefy arms are all bulgy and hot in his tight Skeets shirt. You can tell that a lot of girls come up to the bar specifically to order from him. There are two other bartenders, but Johnny’s line is notably the longest.

You’ve had your own share of interested men pop over to say hi. There are very few frat boys here tonight, as there’s a party in full swing in the Greek village, so most of the guys coming up to grab a beer from you are people you don’t know.

Many of them are dressed up in costumes, and it’s interesting to try to guess some of the more obscure clothing choices.

Anytime you see a man in a ghost costume, your mind shifts to your mystery caller. You wonder if he’ll pop by tonight- but other than the men already working with you, no NCT boys walk through the front door. 

No Ghostie.

There’s not one second of reprieve, but staff need breaks, and finally, just before midnight, Johnny pulls you both for a breather. 

“Are you sure the others can keep up while we’re gone?” you ask, looking back at the swamped bartenders.

“They can manage,” he assures you, guiding you through the back staffroom to a door that leads to an alleyway behind the bar. “I know I’ve kept you on longer than I thought, but it’s just been so busy. How are you holding up?”

The cool night air is a drastic difference from the heat and humidity inside, and you take a deep breath, closing your eyes and enjoying it. “I’m doing alright,” you tell him. “You’re the one making the difficult drinks.”

“I’ve been mixing cocktails for years,” he brushes it off, reaching into his back pocket. 

“Well, it shows.” You watch to see him pull out a rolled joint, and next comes a lighter.

“Want some?” he asks, lifting the joint to slot between his perfect lips. 

“Are we allowed to smoke on the job?” 

“Hyuck was prescribed Vyvanse last year, so he’s practically on coke all shift,” Johnny grins, lighting the end of the joint and taking a puff. “Besides,” he lets out a deep breath of smoke, “in the service industry, sometimes you need a little buffer.”

Skeets really is a chill place if the hiring manager smokes weed on breaks with subordinates. 

“I didn’t realize you were a stoner,” you muse.

“Most of us frat boys are,” Johnny admits, pulling the joint from between his lips. It’s placed casually between two fingers, and his other hand ruffles through his pretty hair. “It’s a nice night.”

“It is,” you nod, looking up at the sky. Stars are twinkling in the dark

“I’m glad you joined the team, not sure we would have been doing so well without your extra set of hands.”

“I’m really grateful to have been given a trial shift,” you smile softly.

“Well, just so you know, it’s more than a trial shift. You’re hired.” He nudges your shoulder gently, and your grin only grows.

“Thank you.”

Johnny takes another drag from his joint. “Sure you don’t want a puff?”

“I really shouldn’t-”

“I’m going to let you go home pretty soon after this,” Johnny tells you. “So it won’t affect your performance that much.”

You wonder if this is a test, but… at the same time, you don’t think Johnny’s the type of guy to test you this way. 

You give in, accepting the joint and bringing it to your lips. It’s been a while since you smoked one of these, and your first tiny hit leaves you coughing, passing the joint back to Johnny while you try to catch your breath.

He grins while watching you, and you get the sneaking suspicion that Johnny thinks you’re cute. 

“Thank you,” you say, coughing again.

“You’ve got good manners, don’t ya, Tiny?”

You nod, wiping at the tears that have formed in your eyes from the smoke. 

“Who... who do you usually smoke with?” you ask.

“Why? You a cop?” Johnny jokes.

“No, it’s just uh… God, I could tell you the whole story but you wouldn’t even believe me if I did,” you find yourself laughing. “Just… I didn’t know you smoked, so, I’m wondering if maybe there are a few other guys in your circle who do too.”

Johnny looks you up and down. “Like I said earlier, Tiny, almost all us frat boys partake in mari-ju-ana.”

It’s clear he’s not going to give you any information that could help you figure out who your Ghostie is. You suppose you really will just have to be patient.

In less than twenty-four hours, you’ll be finding out who your mystery caller is, and the suspense is absolutely killing you.

Friday pt 2

It’s twelve thirty when you finally get home, and you’re very tired. But at the same time, you’re awake. You take your time getting ready for bed, ignoring the loud party sounds outside and around the frat village while you wait for a call from Ghostie.

As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call.

He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend. 

You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you. 

Five minutes turn into ten, turn into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut.

You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.

You try to self-soothe by assuring yourself you’ll meet him tomorrow, but it doesn’t really help. 

Tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, you fall into a blissless sleep.

Saturday 

You’re groggy when you open your eyes, but you still go to check your phone. There’s a missed call notification from an unknown number at three am, and suddenly you’re wide awake, bolting up in bed.

“Hey, Tiny, it’s me.”

As if it could be anyone else.

“Sorry I didn’t get a chance to call you last night. I was pretty swamped with Halloween stuff. But if it makes you feel any better, you were definitely on my mind.”

Here you are kicking your feet again.

“Probably won’t get a chance to talk to you until the party, I really do hope you come… in uh… more ways than one.”

God, he makes you wet.

“I get it if you’re a little mad at me for not calling earlier, and I promise to make it up to you when I see you, if you’ll let me.”

He’s so oddly respectful.

“But I get it if you don’t want to do anything at the party. I’ve enjoyed talking with you this week, and if that’s all it’s going to be then I won’t hold it against you. Anyways, goodnight, see you soon.”

Saturday pt 2

You feel cute tonight. You’d taken your Ghost Face mask off almost as soon as entering the frat, but the little black dress you’re wearing is enough to capture a lot of attention. 

Every frat boy that comes up to you makes your heart race, but none of them reveal themselves as your Ghostie. 

You’re actually beginning to get a little frustrated, and after two hours of floating around hoping to find your mystery man, you head with Mark to his room for a break.

Mark’s roommate, Hyuck, is sitting on his bed, bong already out and resting on one thigh while scrolls through his phone. He looks up when you enter, smirking. “Finally, smoking buddies.”

“You texted me like two minutes ago to come up here,” Mark rolls his eyes. “Have some patience.”

“Not in my nature,” Hyuck insists, setting his phone down and reaching for his lighter. “First hit is mine.”

As if you expected anything less. 

You watch him inhale the thick cloud of smoke, holding it for a moment in his lungs before he lets out a deep exhale. “Fucking hell, he groans, that was a good hit.” 

Mark takes the bong and Hyuck falls flat against the bed, closing his eyes and smiling.

“So have you found your stalker yet, Tiny?” Hyuck asks.

Your gaze flashes to Mark. “You told him?”

“He was curious why I was asking for a stoner list,” Mark defends himself. 

“Whoever the dude is, he’s got balls,” Hyuck says wistfully. 

There’s a knock on the door, and Jaehyun pokes his head inside. “Heard we’re smoking?”

“Yeah, come in!” Hyuck waves his hand, still collapsed on his bed.

The door is pushed open wider, and you catch sight of Johnny standing behind Jaehyun. Your new hiring manager flashes you a wink as they enter, and the door is shut firmly behind them. Jaehyun goes to sit with Hyuck, but Johnny approaches you, taking the seat next to you on Mark’s bed. 

“How’s your night going?” Johnny asks.

“She’s waiting for her stalker to come kidnap her and fuck her brains out,” Hyuck says loudly.

“Your stalker?” Johnny laughs.

“Some guy has been calling her all week,” Mark tries to explain.

“It sounds worse than it is,” you insist, feeling the need to defend Ghostie. “He’s only a little perverted.” 

“And you’re into that sort of thing?” Jaehyun questions, cocking his head while Mark takes a puff from the bong and hands it over.

“Not usually,” you admit. “But… this guy is different.”

“You don’t even know what he looks like,” Mark groans, collapsing in his desk chair and running an anxious hand through his hair.

“That doesn’t matter,” you insist. 

“Fucking girls, dude,” Hyuck laughs, sitting up and watching Jaehyun smoke from the bong. “You know what we need?”

“More weed?” Mark suggests.

“Yes, but also, shots.” Hyuck’s eyes shift to Johnny. “Not the shit from downstairs. The good stuff.”

Johnny lets out a chuckle. “You want something from my secret stash?”

“The tequila you brought back from Mexico,” Hyuck nods.

Jaehyun lets out a puff of smoke, holding the bong out for Johnny, who shakes his head. 

“You’re not taking a hit?” Jaehyun asks, staring at Johnny in hazy shock.

“Not tonight,” Johnny responds. Then he turns to you. “If neither of us are taking a crack at the bong, how about you come help me grab the tequila?”

“Careful, John,” Hyuck teases, “She’s not interested in you, she only has eyes for this Ghostie dude.”

Mark shoves Hyuck’s knee and Johnny simply grins. “Come on Tiny, you don’t want to get secondhand high on a night like this.”

He’s right about that, and you stand with him, heading to the door. Johnny’s so tall and broad, and you try not to stare at his shoulders, but it’s extremely difficult not to appreciate his large form. 

“What’s your costume?” you ask. 

“Oh, this?” He pulls casually at his black tshirt. “I’m a serial killer, they look like everyone else.”

“Very original,” you laugh, falling into step with the tall fratboy as you make your way down the crowded hall. 

“My room is on the top floor,” he tells you, heading to the stairwell and holding the door open for you. “I like your dress, by the way.”

“Thanks, it goes with this.” You hold up the Ghost Face mask to show it to him, and his grin widens while you climb the stairs.

“You’re gonna have to let me try that on.”

“I’m uh… I’m actually saving it for Ghostie to try,” you admit, feeling a little silly with how loyal you’re being to your mystery caller.

“He’s a lucky guy,” Johnny muses.

“Here’s to hoping it goes well,” you sigh.

Johnny doesn’t respond to your comment, and as you reach the top floor he guides you three rooms down, using a key to unlock the door before he holds it open for you. “After you, Tiny.”

The space is the same size as Hyuck and Mark’s, but it only has one bed. “I didn’t realize they had single rooms here,” you say, looking around. 

“There’s only a few, and I’ve got seniority,” Johnny explains. He closes the door behind him, walking over to the large closet. 

You take in the decorations. It’s unmistakably a frat boy's room, but much cleaner than you’re used to. There’s a gaming station, and a mini fridge that you’d guess is full of beer. A clothing rack shows off some of Johnny’s more sophisticated tastes. 

You’re curious about what else he has in his stash, so you join him by the closet, peeking inside. “We’re looking for tequila right?”

God, he has a whole shelf full of expensive bottles of booze. 

“Uh huh,” Johnny nods. “Should be in the back here somewhere.”

“Isn’t this tequila?” you ask, pointing to a bottle he’s brushed past.

“Close,” Johnny flashes a grin at you before continuing to rummage, “but no cigar.” 

You freeze. 

It’s been nearly a week since your first interaction with Ghostie, but you remember that interesting turn of phrase like it was yesterday. 

But- it can’t be. 

Johnny can’t be your mystery caller-

Can he?

“Found it,” Johnny announces, pulling an immaculate bottle of tequila out. His gaze lands on you. “You alright, Tiny? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I mean… have I?” 

He cocks his head. “What do you mean?”

“You’re…” You swallow thickly. “Are you my Ghostie?”

Johnny meets your gaze with a steady look. “Does it upset you?”

It’s not a clear confirmation, but it’s a confirmation nonetheless. 

You stare at him in absolute shock for a moment. He looks insanely gorgeous tonight, all broad, with his pretty lips- without even knowing what you’re doing, you find yourself throwing your arms around him and burying your face against his chest.

Johnny freezes, obviously startled by the sudden contact, but then he’s wrapping you in a tight embrace. One of his hands finds the back of your head, and he cradles you close.

Neither of you say anything, you simply hold each other while you come to terms with everything. 

He’s so stupid for ever thinking you wouldn’t want him-

You do want him. You want him so bad-

Pulling away from his chest, you tilt your chip up, reaching for his face. You cup his cheek while you move on your tiptoes to press your lips against his.

He appears just as shocked at this movement as when you’d hugged him, but he eases into it all the same, kissing you back gently.

But you don’t want gentle, you want him.

You’re pent up from a week of teasing, and you shift in his embrace, wrapping both arms around the back of his neck while you glide your tongue against his lip. 

Johnny lets out a groan, his mouth opening for you while his hands slip down to tug your waist closer.

The kiss deepens and now it’s your turn to release a moan, pressing your tits closer to his chest. He feels like heaven against you, and his lips are absolutely magic. His tongue glides gently against your own. You can taste beer, but it’s not unpleasant, in fact, it turns you on even more.

You thread your fingers through his hair, dragging your nails against his scalp-

“Fuck,” Johnny mutters against your mouth.

Then he’s bending down, hands grabbing at your ass and prompting you to jump. You wrap your legs around his hips and he carries you effortlessly, closing the distance to his bed.

Instead of tossing you down, he sits on the mattress and suddenly your knees are digging into his charcoal duvet. You’re on top, fingers in his hair, your tongue licking at his lip, and you’ve never felt so powerful.

It gives you the confidence to wiggle your hips a little, and you’re pleased to find he’s already growing hard in his jeans. God, he feels big- and your pussy throbs at the idea of what you’re going to do to him tonight.

You’re in a dress, and your panty-clad core feels delightful against bulging denim. Johnny’s grabbing at your bare thigh, kneading your flesh, and it makes you moan desperately. Not only is he skilled with his tongue, but his hands seem to know what they’re doing too.

Suddenly he’s grabbing at your hair, tugging you so you arch your head back, giving him access to your throat. His mouth feels amazing as he begins to lick and suck on your neck, finding your sweet spot way too easily-

“Who-” You swallow thickly. “Who gave you my number?”

Johnny laughs against your skin, pulling away to look up at you with dark eyes. “Mark did.”

“Mark?!” You’re in absolute shock now. 

“Gave it to me during finals last year,” Johnny explains. “But… we both had busy summers and…” one of his hands sneaks down to guide your hips, helping you grind against him, “I guess I wasn’t sure how you felt about me.” 

“You’re crazy!” 

“Maybe a little,” he admits. “I’m also Mark’s big, and it’s not like you and I have ever been close.”

“But you’ve liked me for a while, haven’t you, Ghostie?” 

He groans at the nickname, looking up at you with eyes full of wonder. “Longer than you know.”

You wish you could say you’ve felt the same- but in all honesty, you have always seen him as Mark’s big. As an older fratboy dad type-

The way he’s acted with you this week has inklings of that protective daddy personality you know and enjoy, but… he’s not been particularly dad-like. He’s shown you a new side of himself, and you’re so fucking happy he did.

“You know, when Mark finds out you’re my stalker he’s going to flip.”

“I wasn’t stalking you,” Johnny insists, grinning up at you as he applies more pressure to your hips, making you grind against him harder. 

“God, you even hired me for a job-”

He laughs. “It wasn’t favoritism, you had a cover letter, the bar owner was even impressed.”

“You’re so bad- this whole time you’ve been mind fucking me. I would have never guessed my Ghostie worked at Skeets.”

“Well, I do have a minor in psychology,” he admits. “Figured the best place to hide is in plain sight.”

“You even smoked a joint in front of me and I never guessed-”

“Yeah, I was playing with fire with that one,” Johnny laughs. 

“It’s funny. I was so busy thinking about being loyal to Ghostie that I was trying not to check you out last night.” 

“And I’m so lucky to have you. You wouldn’t even let me put on your Ghost Face mask, so busy saving it for Ghostie.”

“Saving myself too,” you note, grinning down at him.

“Yeah?” 

“We’ve talked every night since Sunday- I haven’t cum in over a week.” 

“Fuck, Tiny,” Johnny groans. “I guess I better help you out then.”

“Really? How are you going to do that?”

“I’ll let you stay on top for a while, let you grind against me until you’re begging for me to tear your dress off.” He pulls at the strap on your shoulder. “Then, I’ll flip you over, get on my knees, and eat you out like the good girl you are, stretching you open with my fingers.”

“And then?”

“When you’re shaking and delirious from cumming, I’ll fuck you right. Bet you’ve never really been fucked right before.”

God, you definitely haven’t. At least- you know you’ve never been fucked the way Johnny is about to fuck you.

“What if I already want you to tear my dress off?” you ask, grinding down against his cock.

Johnny lets out a low groan, grinning at you. “Tiny, you’re nowhere near begging yet.”

“I’m not?” You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his throat before your teeth drag against his earlobe. “Please, Ghostie, I’m already so fucking wet, you wouldn’t believe it-”

He laughs, hand finding your hair again. He tugs you away from his neck, pressing his lips to your own and kissing you hard.

He takes your breath away. His tongue is perfect, licking and tasting- making you moan loudly while you work your hips, swiveling on his denim-covered cock.

“Fuck, Ghostie, you’re so fucking big-”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he promises, grabbing a fistful of your ass and squeezing so hard it almost hurts. But the pain is wonderful, and you cry out in ecstasy, working yourself harder against him.

If it wasn’t for his enticing cock, you think you could make out with him like this forever. 

You just want to be naked, so you grab at your dress, intent on lifting it off-

Johnny stops you. “I’ve told you patience is a virtue, haven’t I, Tiny?”

You groan in annoyance. “John, please-”

“Ghostie,” he corrects you.

You don’t even care- you simply grab his hand, guiding it between your legs. His fingertips brush over your soaked panties, and you gasp at the feeling of him, immediately grinding down, looking for relief.

“Fuck-” you moan, closing your eyes and throwing your head back.

He begins to circle your clit through your thong and you’re forced to grab at his shoulder to steady yourself, whimpering loudly. 

“Shit, Tiny, you’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers.

“I need you,” you gasp, feeling an orgasm already bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “Please, move my panties to the side-”

Johnny doesn’t question you this time. He pulls your thong away, easily burying two large fingers into your wet, needy core.

Now you’re really gasping. You lean forward, wrapping both arms around his strong shoulders and burying your face against his throat. “Oh my God, Ghostie- don’t stop-”

“You’re going to cum from this, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

You nod desperately, swiveling your hips so your clit can rub against the palm of his hand while his fingers work you open. 

“So good,” you whimper. “So fucking good-”

Johnny groans, curving his fingers and stroking your gspot.

You squeal in his lap, thigh muscles clenching while your pussy begins to throb around the foreign intrusions. You’re so close to the edge you can almost taste it.

“Want you to cum for me. Wanna hear your sounds while you drip down my hand.” 

Fuck, he’s way too sexy, voice all low and seductive. He’s breathing hard, and you can tell you’re turning him on just from riding his fingers-

“Come on, Tiny, who’s my good girl?”

“I am-” you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders as your orgasm hits you straight on. 

You moan loudly, burying your face against Johnny’s neck. You’re panting against his skin, wiggling your hips while his fingers continue inside of you, driving you absolutely insane. Waves of pleasure are overtaking your form, and your mind is completely blank, overwhelmed by the feeling of ecstasy that Johnny provides for you.

“That’s it,” Johnny encourages you. “So fucking good for me.”

You’re shaking on his lap by the time your high is over, and you press wet kisses to his throat, earning groans from your Ghostie. 

You reach down for your dress, lifting it up and off your body. Johnny pulls back, watching you with dark eyes. He takes his fingers out of your wet pussy, bringing them to his lips to clean. But he’s not done there, as you toss the fabric to the floor, Johnny offers you his digits next. 

You lock eyes with him for a moment before leaning forward and accepting, taking his wet fingers into your mouth and helping suck them clean. You groa at the taste of yourself. Johnny watches the motion, his free hand finding your hip and forcing you to grind down against his cock. 

“You’re so hot, Tiny,” he says, removing his fingers from your lips.

“Wait till you see me naked,” you grin, reaching behind yourself to undo your bra. 

It falls away easily, and Johnny’s large hands cup your breasts almost immediately. His head dips, eyes taking in your newly exposed skin. “Fuck, how does a girl get this perfect?”

“How does a guy get a massive cock like yours?” you counter, rubbing yourself against the front of his jeans. 

“Touche,” he chuckles, leaning down to lick your nipple. 

You thread your fingers through his hair, guiding him to show more affection to your chest, which he’s more than happy to do. His large hand cups your right breast while he worships your other with his mouth, suckling on your nipple. His teeth drag gently against the sensitive bud and you moan loudly, rocking your hips all the while.

“As much as I’d love to keep sucking on your tits,” Johnny sighs, lips moving up your throat again, “I’d rather be between your legs.”

“Ghostie, do whatever you want to me,” you instruct, feeling delightfully submissive.

“You got it, Tiny.” 

In one easy motion, he flips you so your back is on the bed. Johnny pulls away from you, sinking to his knees at the edge of the mattress before grabbing you and tugging you closer. He tears his own shirt off, giving you a great view of muscles that make you even wetter. Then he grabs your panties, sliding them down your legs so you’re completely bare for him now.

Johnny doesn’t say anything, he simply licks his lips and dives into you. His tongue parts your folds, dipping inside to taste your walls while your legs shake around his head. “Fuck, Ghostie-”

You reach down to grab his hair, applying enough pressure to his head to let him know you’re enjoying what he’s doing… if he can’t already tell from your desperately needy moans. 

His lips move to suction on your clit and a squeal escapes you, your back arching slightly at the sensation. 

You’re sensitive from having cum already, sensitive from having not cum all week only to be getting this much attention now. But you’re also probably sensitive because this is Johnny, because there’s been a build-up that’s left you ready to pop, and he seems intent on making you pop multiple times for him.

“Oh my God,” you whimper, eyes closed, abdominal muscles tensing with effort as his skilled tongue works you up again. 

Johnny groans against your pussy and it’s one of the sexiest things that’s ever happened to you. Your grip on his hair tightens, your core throbbing with pleasure already.

When he adds two fingers into your dripping hole, you know you’re not going to last, but you don’t think he wants you to.

In fact, you’d bet that Johnny himself is just about ready to explode. You can’t believe he doesn’t have his cock out yet- can’t believe he’s so intent on making you cum twice before getting any satisfaction for himself.

“Fuck, Ghostie-” You want to tell him how close you are to cumming, but you can hardly get the words out between your moans. “I’m- holy shit-”

Johnny finger fucks you even harder, his mouth focusing on your clit, and you’re pretty sure he’s understood your garbled attempt to warn him, pretty sure he wants you to cum.

You allow yourself to find your release, your back arching again as you tug on Johnny’s hair, keeping his face between your legs. You grind down slightly, your body chasing your orgasm as it surges through you like fire in your veins.

Johnny lets out a low groan again, and your entire body twitches at the extra stimulation. You’re gasping now. Nothing has ever felt this good-

To his credit, Johnny tries to help you through your entire orgasm, but he pulls away before you’re truly finished. You can feel him panting against your pussy, and when you open your eyes to look down at him, you find Johnny staring at you with the horniest expression you’ve ever seen on a man.

“Ghostie-” you whimper, shifting against his duvet. 

“Condoms,” he says, pulling his fingers out of your core and standing up.

“I’m on birth control,” you tell him quickly, making him freeze. “And if we’re both clean-”

Johnny practically moans at the idea, looking down at your body. “Does my Tiny want to be filled up all nice and good?”

Now it’s your turn to groan, and you nod, licking your lips. You sit up next, feeling your skin heat at the words you want to say, “I also… I wanna suck you off first.”

Johnny approaches the bed again, towering over you. It’s hard to focus on his eyes when his abs and strong biceps and veiny forearms are drawing your attention, but when he cups your jaw it makes things easier. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You pretty much stalked me for a week,” you tease, grinning.

Your Ghostie lets out a laugh. He doesn’t bother to check you on the word ‘stalking’ this time, even though he’s always been adamant that’s not what he was up to. It’s nice to have this little win, and as a reward for him biting his tongue, you reach out to undo his belt.

As the buckle unclasps and you move to his zipper, there’s a loud banging on the door.

Johnny looks over his shoulder and you can hear Hyuck screaming “Tequila!” 

The frat boy in front of you lifts his finger to his lips, a shushing motion, and then he reaches into his back pocket for his phone. You bet he’s going to text Hyuck some lie about not being in the room, but you’re too horny to slow down.

You get his jeans undone and you bundle your hands up in all the fabric, roughly tugging them down.

Johnny lets out a groan when his large cock slaps up against his abdomen, and he moves his phone to the side to give himself a better view, holding it with one hand while raising a brow at you.

You’re on your knees at the foot of the bed now while Johnny stands there, and you steady yourself, grabbing the base of his cock. With one last wink at Ghostie, you lean forward, kitten licking his length from balls to tip.

The man above you quickly types in the text, then tosses his phone to the side, his large hand coming down to cup your cheek. You take this as a sign to accept him into your mouth, so you do exactly that.

He’s so large and thick- you haven’t sucked cock in a while, and you’ve never sucked a cock as big as his. You know you can take your time, Johnny’s always been patient with you. 

You start by paying attention to the head, swirling your tongue around him and getting used to his size. Your eyes close, mind focused completely on your task. You’re already drooling from this, and you can feel your saliva dripping down his shaft. You smooth your thumb along the new trail of spit, helping lube your hand so you can begin to pump his cock.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, tightening his grip in your hair.

You try to sink your mouth further onto his cock, but it’s difficult. He’s just so huge-

Your pussy throbs knowing that soon, this monster dick is going to be inside of you-

Without any lube that you’ve seen so far, you want to make him as slicked up as possible, and it helps that you’re drooling from how sexy all of this is.

His cock hits the back of your throat and you gag slightly, powering through the uncomfortable feeling as you glide your tongue along his shaft. You’re not a quitter.

“Holy fuck, Tiny-” Johnny praises you. “You don’t have to try to take more than you can handle-”

But you want to. You want to pleasure him the way he’s pleasured you, and his words only prompt you to suck harder, earning more groans from the man above you.

“You’re so good at this,” he continues his words of encouragement, and they do help you take him deeper. His voice is smooth, sexy, and thankfully not modulated in any way. 

You’ve never realized how nice John’s voice really is. 

You apply more pressure with your hand, pumping him faster-

“Okay, okay-” Johnny tugs gently on your hair, prompting you to pull off of his cock and blink up at him in confusion. “I have to fuck you now. I’m done waiting.” 

You let out a tiny mewl, nodding. 

Johnny kicks off his jeans completely, pressing a knee onto the bed. He leans down to kiss you, and then he’s grabbing your body. In one easy motion, he tosses you a few feet up the mattress, so your head can land against the pillows.

God, he makes you feel truly Tiny- it’s one of the sexiest things ever.

He takes his place between your legs next, lips finding yours. One of his hands cups your cheek, and the kiss deepens, his tongue invading your mouth while your arms wrap around his strong shoulders.

You can feel his cock sliding between your pussy lips, and it’s almost embarrassing how wet you are, how much drool you’ve left on him. 

“Please-” you whimper. You can’t wait another moment either, you have to know what he feels like. You reach your hand between your bodies, grabbing his cock so you can line him up with you properly. “Ghostie, I can’t-”

He kisses you, cutting you off. Something tells you Johnny understands, and the moment you have him properly situated, he begins to push into you.

You gasp against his lips, letting go of his cock so you can grab his shoulders. He’d worked you open with his fingers two times over, but nothing compares to this. You can feel your walls stretching to accommodate his impressive girth, and it leaves you practically brain-dead.

“Let me know if it’s too much,” Johnny tells you, lips moving to your throat so he can suck on your sweet spot while he continues to burry into your hot, wet core.

You wrap your legs tightly around his hips, closing your eyes while the feeling of him overtakes you. You’ve never moaned like this before, never felt anything like Johnny-

He groans loudly against your skin, gently thrusting, coating his cock in your juices to make things easier-

The moment his hips hit flush to yours, his full cock buried inside of you, you both gasp. Johnny grabs at your hands, interlocking your fingers and pinning them to the pillows on either side of your head.

“Fuck, you’re so big, you’re so-” You can’t even think, especially not when he takes another test thrust.

His cock drags against your inner walls and you cry out, body tingling. 

“You take me so well, Tiny,” he praises you, mouth still hot on your throat. “The perfect fit.” 

You can’t speak, not now, but you can squeeze his hands and tilt your head to the side, kissing his cheek. Johnny takes the cue to bring his lips back to yours, and you’re immediately lost in yet another breathtaking makeout session.

He’s moving slow, fucking into you at a gentle pace, allowing your body to get used to his massive size. 

But you’re feeling particularly desperate, and greedy. “More.” 

“More?” He laughs. “You sure about that?”

You nod, eager to be decimated by him. “Please, ruin me-”

Johnny groans, letting go of one of your hands so he can press his palm flat to the bed, giving himself more leverage. He begins to fuck you faster, and each meeting of his cock to your core has you whimpering like a whore in heat.

“You make the cutest fucking sounds,” Johnny breathes.

Only he - with his cock making you feral - would call your noises of pleasure cute.

He’s so stupidly endearing.

“Fuck, Tiny, you’re dripping- making this too fucking easy for me.” 

It’s absolutely embarrassing how wet you are. He’s gliding into you with no issues now, and each movement is like heaven. The head of his cock hits a spot deep in your stomach- you can’t help but reach down, pressing your palm to your abdomen-

You can feel him rearranging your guts, and you both groan when you apply a bit of pressure.

“Deep, huh?” Johnny lets out a moaned chuckle. 

“So deep-” you agree, words slightly garbled. 

“I’ve just started with you and you can hardly speak,” Johnny muses. “Wonder what’s gonna happen when I make you cum again.”

You cry out desperately, removing your hand from your stomach so you can claw at his hair, bringing his lips back to your own.

You’re tired of thinking- all you want to do is experience this, experience him, at your fullest- and boy, are you fucking full.

Johnny lets go of your other hand, reaching for your thigh. He adjusts it higher on his hip and suddenly he’s driving into you even deeper.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you gasp loudly against his lips. Johnny traces his tongue along your teeth, and you can feel him smirking.

You love that he’s enjoying this- enjoying watching you come completely undone for him.

“You know,” he says, “if you keep squeezing me like that, I’m not going to last long.”

You don’t even care. You know this isn’t the only time you’ll be fucking this man- and after cumming twice already, your body is near its limit of pleasure, if that’s even possible. In fact, there’s something very sexy about making a man cum quicker than he’s used to, and your pussy clenches at the thought. 

“Fuck,” Johnny groans again. “Can I flip you over?”

At this point, you’ll agree to any request, and you nod quickly, biting at your lip.

With one last kiss, Johnny pulls away from you. His cock slips out of your core and you whine at  the loss, only for his two large hands to grab your waist and manually turn you onto your stomach. Then he adjusts your hips, pulling you up into doggy position.

“If you need to scream, use the pillows,” Johnny warns you, lining up with your pussy again.

The first thrust has you doing exactly that. You bury your face into the pillow, letting out a loud cry as his cock hits deeper than before. 

This position might just kill you, but you don’t care.

His hands feel so good- so large and warm and steady on your hips as he finds an even rougher pace.

You can hear your ass smacking loudly against his front with each thrust and it only adds to your arousal. 

Bunching your hands up in his duvet, you do your best not to be so loud that the whole frat will hear you. But it’s so difficult not to just melt under him- 

You can feel your eyes welling with pleasure-fueled tears, and it drives you crazy.

“Fuck, you like this position, don’t you, pretty girl?”

“Yes, Ghostie!” you gasp, nodding while his cock continues to make you feel like absolute heaven.

“You look fucking perfect like this,” he tells you. “Face down, ass up. Pretty soon you’ll be begging for me to fill you up even more.”

His words flip a switch inside of you. “God, yes, please-” you cry out. “I want it so bad-”

“Want what?”

“Want your cum,” you whimper. “Wanna be so full-”

Johnny groans, grabbing rough fistfuls of your ass while he fucks you even harder. 

“I need it, Ghostie, I need it-” You’re crying now, and Johnny notices.

He bends over your back, bracing an arm across your chest so he can lift you onto your knees. He cups your jaw, thumb stroking through a tear track. “Holy shit, Tiny,” he moans, mouth hot against your shoulder. 

“Please, Ghostie, please-” you whimper, lower lip trembling-

You’re so close-

Johnny lets go of your jaw, and his hand slips down your front. You jolt when his fingers make contact with your clit, wriggling in his grasp.

“I’m almost there, Tiny,” he admits. “Watching you cum will tip me over the edge- you’ll be good and cum for me, right?”

All you can do is nod. Words are gone. Your mind is blank except for the pleasure that’s coursing through you.

Your noises are getting pitchier, and Johnny works you all the way to your peak. You gasp loudly as you topple over the edge, core clamping down hard on his cock.

Your legs feel like jelly, and Johnny releases you, allowing you to fall to the bed while your orgasm ravages your form. You’re clawing at the sheets, burying your face in his bed to muffle your screams-

His hands are bruising on your hips, and you hear him let out a loud groan. You can feel him filling you up, his motions faltering ever so slightly. His breath is hot against your shoulders and it’s added stimulus that makes you twitch, so completely overwhelmed that it almost feels like you’re about to black out.

But you don’t want to miss a second of this. His groans of pleasure keep you in the moment even as your mind is in a sex daze. 

Johnny rides you through your high, thrusts slowing until he comes to a stop behind you. 

You’re both breathing heavily now, and Johnny stays still for a moment, enjoying the last of your orgasm aftershocks. Then he flattens his chest to your back, hand falling to the bed next to  your own. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes. 

You can’t help but let out a small laugh, and it makes Johnny groan as your core clenches again.

He kisses your shoulder, lips oddly tender in comparison to the way he just blew your back out. 

“Ghostie-” you whimper, wanting to collapse on his bed from exhaustion. 

“Stay still, I’ll get something to clean you up,” he assures you, pressing one last kiss to your skin before straightening from your back. 

You miss his warmth as soon as he’s gone, and you especially miss his cock when it slides out of you. 

You feel him get off the bed, and a moment later, something begins to drip down your inner thighs. He really filled you up, and it makes you twitch. You reach a hand between your legs, cupping your core and rolling onto your back on his bed, trying to breathe properly.

Johnny is back a second later, and you can feel his gaze on you.

“Spread these thighs for me, Tiny,” he says gently, touching your knee. 

You open your eyes, and then you open your legs. 

Johnny moves your hand out of the way, letting out a groan. “You have no idea how fucking hot this is-” he tells you, wiping your core clean of his cum. 

You still don’t have it within yourself to speak, you can only watch him toss the tissue in the garbage before you’re making grabby hands at him.

Johnny laughs. He sits on the bed next to you, leaning against the headboard before scooping you into his lap. He’s so fucking big, and he makes you feel safe cuddled in his arms, your cheek pressed to his chest.

His heart is still racing, and it makes you feel better to know you’re not the only one who’s so affected by this.

Johnny’s fingers begin to thread through your hair, and he simply holds you while you come out of subspace. 

The party is still in full swing outside, and it’s an interesting feeling to have such a private moment with Johnny in the middle of a frat on Halloween. 

“Do you think anyone heard us?” you ask finally.

Johnny laughs. “Don’t worry about it,” he says soothingly. 

You pull away from his chest, looking up at him. His hand moves to cup your face and you press your lips to his. It’s a much gentler kiss than he’d given you mid-fuck, and it eases your racing heart. 

“Ghostie?”

“Yeah, Tiny?” 

“I like you a lot.”

He lets out another chuckle. “I like you too.”

“We’ll do this again sometime, right?”

“Of course, Tiny.” His hand smooths up and down your back. “I’d also like to take you on dates, if you’ll let me.”

“I’d like that,” you nod, relaxing against his chest again. “And… and when you call me, no more voice modulator.”

“No?”

“I like your voice, your real voice.” God, you’re feeling so soft and mushy for him.

“I like your voice too.” For a second, it’s a sweet moment, and then Johnny continues, “Liked listening to your whimpers.”

He’s such a frat boy, but you kind of love him for it. “Did you like my tears too?”

“Only if they’re for a good reason,” Johnny says. “If anyone else ever makes you cry, I’ll have to fuck them up.”

“My protective Ghostie,” you grin, leaning up to kiss the underside of his jaw.

“As much as I’d love to stay cuddling you forever, I should probably bring the boys some tequila,” Johnny sighs.

“The boys,” you echo. “I feel like I’ve just fucked Mark and Hyuck’s dad.”

“Do you have a daddy kink, Tiny?”

“For you, I have any kink you want,” you laugh. 

“I like the sound of that.”

“Just… kiss me again?” you ask. “We can bring tequila after.”

“Are you sure you want to come with? You can stay here and I’ll come back-”

“We should…” you lick your lips, “we should be social.”

“I just fucked your brains out and you want to go be social?” Johnny grins. “Maybe I didn’t work you over well enough.”

“You worked me over perfect,” you laugh, grabbing at his jaw so you can press your lips to his.

Johnny melts into the kiss, and there’s something in it that feels like coming home. You’ve never felt this safe with a guy before, and it’s kind of starting to scare you.

If you were to stay here- you think you might even fall in love with Johnny… that is, if you haven’t already.

You pull away from your Ghostie, letting out a sigh. 

Getting out of his lap isn’t fun, and your legs are wobbly as you stand next to the bed, but Johnny’s hands go to your hips to steady you.

When he stands, he towers over you, and you’re overcome by your thirst for him all over again. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, bringing him in for another kiss. 

It’s so easy to get lost in making out with Johnny, but you have to tear yourself away, nodding, “Tequila.”

“Tequila,” he echoes. “Can you stand by yourself?”

“I’m okay,” you assure him, but it still hurts when he lets you go. 

Johnny pulls on some sweatpants while you find your dress-

“You’re not putting that back on,” Johnny tells you, moving to his closet. “Let me give you some clothes.”

“Are you trying to announce to Mark and Hyuck that we’ve fucked?” you laugh, accepting the large t-shirt he throws your way.

“Trust me, Tiny, they’ll know.”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“After this, I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself, and something tells me you won’t be able to either.” Johnny pulls on a hoodie, grabbing the tequila and turning to you. “I know you, remember?” 

You grin, pulling on the pair of black boxer shorts he’d also sent your way. “Maybe a little too well.” 

“Or not well enough,” Johnny suggests, approaching you again.

“You’re such a sweet talker.”

“Only for you,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss you again. “You look cute in my clothes.”

“Do I look like I just got fucked senseless?”

“Definitely.” 

“Mark’s going to hate you,” you laugh.

“He’ll get over it,” Johnny brushes it off, reaching for your hand. “Ready to go?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” 

“You can still stay here if you want.”

“No, let’s face this now.” You need to be firm, need to get out of this love den before you find yourself even more loved up.

The two of you head to his door and Johnny holds it open for you. 

In the time you’ve been fucking, it looks like a lot of people have dispersed from the party, so walking through the hallway isn’t exactly a walk of shame. However, when you get down the stairs to Mark’s floor, you realize you still have to pull up your big girl panties to face him.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” you tell Johnny, “I’ll meet you in Mark’s.”

“You don’t want me to come with you?”

“To the bathroom?” you laugh. “I think I’m good.”

With one last kiss, you make your way to the frat bathroom at the end of the hall. It’s important to go pee after sex, for UTI reasons, your sorority big sister has drilled that into you since first year. When you’re done, you head to the sink, daring a look at yourself in the dirty mirror.

You look fucked, but you also look happy. 

In fact, you can’t stop smiling. 

After washing your hands, you dab some water on your throat, hoping it will calm you down. Once you feel good and ready, you exit the bathroom.

Mark’s door is open when you get to his room, and you poke your head inside. 

Jaehyun and Hyuck are on one bed, Mark and Johnny on the other, and they’re all lifting shots to their mouths. As you step inside, Mark’s gaze shifts to you. He takes in your new outfit and his eyes widen, then he spits out his shot, coughing loudly. 

Johnny’s hand finds Mark’s back while he practically coughs up a lung, and then Mark is leaping to his feet. “What-” His eyes dart between you and Johnny, and you can see the realization there. 

“Jesus, Mark, learn how to handle a shot,” Hyuck scoffs.

Mark doesn’t even entertain Hyuck, he simply turns to his big, pointing an accusatory finger at Johnny’s chest. “You’re Ghostie!?”

Johnny stands up. “You’re the one who gave me her number last year.”

“I what?!” Mark’s eyes are practically bulging out of his head now.

Hyuck and Jaehyun exchange a look, and Hyuck reaches for the tequila to pour another shot.

“Mark, it could be worse-” you say, trying to de-escalate the situation while stepping further into the room.

“How could it be worse!?” Mark bellows. “My Big is a stalker!”

“He’s not a stalker,” you defend Johnny, coming to join your tall new lover, your hand reaching for his.

“You’re her new boss!” Mark insists.

“Hyuck fucked our last bar manager,” Johnny points out.

“Guilty,” Hyuck smirks over the rim of his new shot.

Mark’s still not having any of this situation. “This is fucked up.”

“Mark, I’ve told you a million times, it’s spooky season.” You can’t help but giggle. This has been such a turn of events, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“You better not hurt her,” Mark says next, trying to meet Johnny’s gaze even while substantially shorter. 

“I won’t,” Johnny promises. 

“This is just-” Mark shakes his head. “Fuck this, I need to sleep.”

“We can move the party to my room,” Jaehyun says, already grabbing the bottle of tequila while Hyuck reaches for his bong.

It’s clear Mark’s done talking, and he collapses onto his bed face first like a tantruming toddler. You’ll discuss this with him another day, but you know now is probably not the time to push him to accept that his Big has a whole different side to him that Mark’s never seen. 

As you leave the room with Hyuck, Johnny and Jaehyun, Hyuck elbows you in the side. “I always knew you’d end up with one of us.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, gaze shifting to Johnny and Jaehyun who walk a few feet ahead of you.

“Once an NCT girl, always an NCT girl,” Hyuck nods. “And between us…” he leans closer, “Johnny is a good one.”

Your Ghostie looks over his shoulder at you, and you meet his gaze with a smile. “He is,” you agree. “Hey, John?”

“Yes, Tiny?” He stops at the door to the stairwell, holding it open and allowing you to catch up.

“I changed my mind, I think I am done with the party tonight.”

“Yeah?” Johnny smirks. “Gonna come back to my room?”

“If you invite me.”

“Tiny, my room has an open-door policy for you now.”

“Is that so?” you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Uh huh,” Johnny grins. “And free cuddles, anytime you want them.”

“I like the sound of that,” you confess. 

“Just get married already!” Hyuck shouts back at the two of you as he climbs the stairs with Jaehyun. 

You and Johnny can only laugh at Hyuck. Your willpower is completely gone, and you allow your Ghostie to take you back to his room. 

He cuddles you close as the party dies down outside, and you find yourself slipping into the best sleep of your life on Halloween night with your Ghostie by your side.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Halloween is my favourite Holiday, and there's something about Johnny and horror genre that makes me go feral

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🔮 preview. There’s no way he should be this fucking sexy. You’re outside in the cold, parkas on, a Santa hat on his head, a joint between his lips,  both your jeans down to your knees, his hand over your mouth to stifle your moans, and he’s about to fuck you against a wall with his massive cock- you’ve decided that Johnny as a whole is simply illegal.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism in an alley, weed use, slight temperature play, big dick Johnny, quickie, cum kink/filling panties with cum while at work, praise, dirty talk, size kink, hand over mouth silencing, choking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, pretty girl, good girl. (his) Ghostie.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.5k I teaser wc. 275

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!reader

bonus

You’ve been dating Johnny for a month and a half and you still can’t get enough of him. Whenever you pop over to the frat, it’s not long before one of you is dragging the other to his room. There’s never been sexual chemistry like there is for you and your Ghostie.

You’d never thought your biggest hurdle in the workplace would be refraining from jumping your bar manager, but here you are, every shift, practically drooling over him. Each brush of his hands across your body as he moves behind you to grab something makes you want to tear his clothes off, and your patience is at an all-time low. 

With Christmas fast approaching, the bar scene has substantially dwindled, and it’s making you even more needy. When Skeets only has a handful of customers, you fill drink orders while thinking about sucking on Johnny’s cock. 

It doesn’t help that he’s started wearing a Santa hat- why does it make him even sexier?

As Johnny smiles and makes casual conversation with a pair of girls sitting at the bar, you do your best to calm yourself. At the end of the night, you’ll be the one in Johnny’s bed, you just have to get to closing.

You notice in the periphery of your vision that the girls are finishing up with their drinks. Johnny excuses himself to grab the card reader, and as he slips past your ass, you feel his hard cock in his jeans. It’s difficult to stifle a moan, and you do so by biting on your lip. 

He loves teasing you, especially while you’re at work, and it drives you absolutely mental.

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[rafesbuzzcutseason]

wicked game

chapter 10 - charming

synopsis: y/n is sarah’s roommate and the embodiment of sunshine. rafe, on the other hand, is her complete opposite. when the boys place a bet that he can't win her over, rafe takes the challenge without hesitation. after all, he never backs down from a dare. the closer rafe gets to y/n, he finds himself drawn to her warmth in a way he never expected, and for the first time, he wants to be more than just the guy with a bad reputation.

but secrets don’t stay hidden for long, and when y/n finds out the truth, rafe is left to face the consequences. now, he has to prove that somewhere along the way, the bet stopped mattering, because losing her was never part of the plan.

masterlist

cw: language, alcohol

it was a long, exhausting night after lucas left. you felt numb, empty, lost. but a part of you felt relief. and you felt so guilty for feeling that.

you didn't let the girls come over straight away, you wanted to deal with it yourself and process it, but you knew you needed to go out tonight to stop yourself from moping.

by the time the evening had had arrived, your chest still felt heavy, but the grief had dulled into something quieter. something you felt able to carry.

you allowed yourself to get dressed up, promising the girls you would meet them there as you just needed to take your time.

you stared at the dress hanging on the back of your chair that sarah had given to you back when you first became roommates. "wear this when you want to feel hot. trust me." she had said to you that night.

this was one of those nights.

you put it on, did a quick once over and decided it was good enough for right now.

the kappa tau house was, as always, buzzing and full of energy by the time you got there.

you found kie and cleo, who both did a quick double-take when they saw you, expressions flashing from surprise to concern to that unspoken thank god you’re here kind of relief.

"you made it,” kie said, immediately pulling you into a hug. "how are you?" she asked with sincerity.

you gave a weak smile. "ask me after drink number three."

cleo handed you a red solo cup like she’d already prepared for that answer. "you don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to."

"i know," you said, taking a sip. "i just want to be with my girls tonight."

"speaking of..." cleo nodded towards the corner where john b and sarah were making out. "she's been a little preoccupied."

you laughed, "so they're official huh?"

"apparently so. they're fucking whipped." kie sighed.

"she's never in our dorm anymore. always at his." you smiled softly, glad she had someone like him. "i'm happy for her." they nodded in agreement.

for a little while, it was easy. you laughed, danced, and let the negative thoughts stay hidden. but as the night went on, you felt yourself overwhelmed and in need of a break.

"i'm just gonna go get some fresh air for a bit. you guys carry on." you said to the girls.

"are you okay? do you want us to come with you?" kie rushed, always the first one to worry.

"i'm fine! i promise. just getting a bit sweaty."

"ok, but we're here for you, yeah?" cleo spoke with concern.

"i know i know. i'll be back shortly." you stepped away, slipping through the crowd in the living room and making it out to the garden. it was quieter, darker, with the slight flicker of cigarettes being lit and phone screens.

you exhaled deeply, the cool air hitting your skin like a reset button. you leaned against the wall, letting your head fall back, eyes closed, just trying to feel something besides the dull ache in your chest that comes back as soon as you're alone.

"you always sneak off during our parties?"

the voice startled you, pulling you out your trance.

"i didn’t know you were out here," you said quietly.

"didn’t know you were either. guess we both needed a break."

you glanced at rafe for a moment before returning your gaze to the backyard. "you always this good at finding people when they want to be alone?"

"not really. just tends to always be you." he shrugged, "why do you want to be alone?"

"just not really in a people mood right now."

he tilted his head slightly, watching you. "rough night?"

"lucas and i broke up." you responded bluntly.

rafe didn’t say anything at first, just nodded slowly. no told you so. no smug comment. just a shift in his expression. shock and a hint of sympathy.

"you okay?" he asked after a few minutes.

"yeah," you said finally. "i think it wasn't good for a while. he wasn't like, bad or anything. we just grew apart. it felt pretend. and that's exhausting in itself."

he didn’t push you for more. "i get that," voice softer now. "sometimes it’s easier to fake it than admit it's kinda falling apart.”

you looked over at him then, his face barely lit by the glow of the inside, his eyes steady on yours. there was no judgment there. just a weird kind of understanding.

"you always this philosophical at parties?" you let out a small laugh.

he cracked a smile. "only when i run into pretty girls in gardens."

you rolled your eyes, but your lips tugged into the faintest smile, "charming"

"you smiled," he said, "that’s gotta count for something."

"we seem to end up together at parties away from everyone else quite a lot." you said, sitting down against the wall.

"is that a problem?" he sat beside you, close but not too close.

"not really," you said after a beat, voice quieter now. "just… interesting."

he hummed in response, resting his arms on his knees, head tilted slightly like he was trying to read between the lines of your words. "maybe it’s a sign."

you looked over at him, brows raised. "a sign? for what?"

"that you secretly like my company," he said, glancing at you with the smallest smirk, but it didn’t come off cocky. "or maybe you just keep ending up in the same places i go when i’m trying to get away."

"away from what?"

"the pressure of being a frat guy."

you both burst into laughter, you swatted his shoulder, but rafe caught your hand before it could hit him. and he didn't let go. holding it before slowly brushing his hand against yours, just gently. just enough for you to decide.

you hesitated, then turned your hand over, letting your fingers curl lightly into his. it wasn’t romantic. it wasn’t even flirtatious. it was steady. grounding. quiet.

his thumb grazed your knuckles, barely there. "you’re allowed to feel relief," he said softly, his voice low and warm. "even if it hurts. even if it’s messy."

"you always like this when you’re not pretending to be an asshole?"

he let out a small laugh. "don’t tell anyone. ruins the brand."

you smiled again, this time more real.

"i'm glad i keep bumping into you." you whispered after a while.

"yeah." he replied, just as quietly. "me too."

a/n: i hate this chapter wahhhhhhh anyway how much of this is bet rafe and how much is real rafe mwahahha

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[archivewriter1ont]

Echo and the Cadet Batch Chapter 21: Fun and Games and A Twist

art by @littletroggo

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58834273/chapters/163664335

Summary:

Back on Kamino, the Batchers are plagued with thoughts of leaving 99 and the Domino Twins as they try to figure out the relic that split the timelines.

SNEAK PEEK: ⬇️

Hunter’s superhuman senses hardly registered the familiarly bland taste of Kamino food as he chewed, true silence blanketing the barracks for the first time since he had returned with the twins. He forced himself to swallow the gray-flavored bite and suffered a quick moment of shock when he realized he actually missed the regular-issue ration bars. He really was losing his mind.

When the sergeant looked up from his plate, he found all the others in the same state they had been frozen in when he looked down – staring at him, waiting for more explanation, for more of the strange story he had just spun.

But he didn’t have anything else to give. “And…that’s it,” he said. He winced at how lame that sounded, even in his own ears.

“Well, I should hope so.” Tech was the first one to speak, and Hunter quickly clocked the slightly annoyed tone he used. “That is quite enough, as it is.”

“So, let me get this straight.” Wrecker put his hands on the table, palms inward as if he were trying to squeeze the tale Hunter had just recounted into a more tolerable amount of confusion. “You went looking for Tau Sol to keep him off our tails –” he moved his hands to the left, keeping them the same distance apart, portioning out each statement into chunks that were easier to handle. “–then you found little Echo and little Fives instead–” Another invisible chunk. “–then all three of you ran into Sol and Skirata –” Another. “But Skirata doesn’t like Sol, either, so he just stood by and watched while you shot him dead in the hallway.”

The sergeant double-checked the strung-together sentences in his head, then nodded. “That’s about it.”

He swallowed another bite and pushed his plate away, trying to hide a grimace as his tongue revolted against the sandy texture of the… nutritional gruel? Liquid permacrete? What even was the stuff they’d been fed for their entire cadethoods? No matter what its somewhat questionable identity turned out to be, he didn’t think he could muscle his way through any more of it.

“Yep! Except we found him .” Fives contradicted proudly, grinning around a mouthful of breakfast. “He didn’t even know we were there.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Echo chided, his fork poised halfway between his mouth and the plate. 

Crosshair smirked. He couldn’t quite tell if the cadet had simply stopped in the middle of the motion or if he was barely restraining himself from stabbing his sibling with the utensil.

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