#good luck using those in a sentence though

[alexanderwales]

Save the Cat is a snappy read, and only 8 chapters, so I'm just doing a liveblog of them unless I get bored or distracted.

Chapter one is about the pitch, the logline, the title, what you put on a poster and how you sell it. It doesn't necessarily come first, but I get the sense that for Snyder this would be his preferred way of doing it. (A logline is just the one-sentence "what is it about" that you use to sell people on the idea.)

Snyder says that writing loglines is awful, soul-crushing work, and I agree there. I'm awful at it. But Snyder also says that if you don't have a good logline, maybe there's something wrong with your movie, and that I don't agree with.

I think there's a fairly wide set of stories that have good, snappy, easy loglines, and are also good stories. But I think there are other stories that are good stories and don't have a great way to pitch them. The lack of a good pitch can exist for a lot of reasons, and sometimes it's just that it's more complex than can be summed up in a single sentence, or even a handful of sentences. I think in practice writers will often dumb down the story for the logline, lying about what's contained within, just to make sure that it will sell, that people will want to know what's inside.

One of the other main points of the chapter is that a good logline has irony to it, a twist inherent in the title, some kind of thematic tension, and I disagree with that too, maybe not from the standpoint of selling a script, but from the standpoint of storytelling.

Why does everything have to have an irony to it? Why does everything have to have a twist? Why can't we have stories that are just well-told explorations of conflict and character? It's like at some point people decided that they only wanted Distinct Pieces of Media, so if you wanted to tell a story that's been told before, something with its own unique texture, you're just shit out of luck.

I find this all the more irritating because often the twist/irony/idea/pitch is good, and then the execution is shit, and then people don't want that idea again. It's not like you can say "like that thing that flopped, but good".

Blake Snyder is trying to tell good stories, but he's also trying to sell stories, and this is a good thing for authors to know how to do. I accept this. I just don't like it.

So as a writing exercise, here are some loglines for things I've written, without the amount of care and polish and revision that a good logline needs:

Worth the Candle - A teenaged dungeonmaster gets thrust into the worlds he's created, where his recently deceased friend is a historical figure. (This is bad, not short and snappy enough.)

This Used to be About Dungeons - Five young adults team up to delve dungeons and bake pies. (I don't know man, I said I was bad at this.)

Thresholder - A man travels through portals to different worlds and genres, gathering powers and skills as he fights other people just like him.

Shadows of the Limelight - In a world where fame gives you power, a fanboy saves the life of the world's greatest hero in full view of the public.

The Dark Wizard of Donkerk - An orphan raised by two dark wizards adventures north with a wayward princess.

Millennial Scarlet - A gig-economy demon hunter grapples with the death of his mother and the plans she set up before she passed.

Alright, I found that less soul-sucking than usual, but I don't think that these are the oiled, muscular, perfectly toned and smiling loglines that are necessary to sell, just to be clear. The marketing unit of written fiction is not really the logline, though that helps, it's the blurb, and I am equally awful at writing those. I just don't agree with Blake Snyder that a blurb or logline coming poorly is a sign that you don't know the story.

[lynxgriffin]

Greetings, Lynx. I have a question. Your profile says 'any pronouns'. Does this include neopronouns? Because you give of xe/xem vibes for some reason lol.

Any pronouns means any, including neopronouns. So yes, those are fine!

[moviestarmartini]

alta suciedad. — franco colapinto x f!reader

summary: while interviewing franco, you misunderstood what he meant with 'talented with his tongue'. lucky for you, he's more than willing to actually show you his skills.

wc: 2.9k

warnings: interviewer!reader, hispanic!reader, porn with an ounce of plot, set during media day of the austin gp, casual sex, oral sex (fem recieving), p in v, unprotected sex, pull out and pray, mean dom!franco, dumbification, degradation, a teeny amount of praise, aftercare, spanglish/sentences in spanish.

A/N: based on this request and took some inspo from this other anon, i'm literally giggling typing this in order to publish it. no specific song for today even though there's a few references even in the title. hope y'all are hungry!!

“I’m talented with my tongue.” 

You didn’t have that much experience when it came to interviewing professionally— you’d been a kid reporter at the same sport you strived to get there, and in the course of getting there, you’ve seen a thousand and one million things that impressed you. 

But this? 

Your mouth hung open, giving him a few rapid blinks while your brain processed the information. 

“You wanna see?” Franco Colapinto insisted, not reading your expression well enough, or ignoring it at the very least. 

“¿Aquí?” You blinked, unable to process the event in the main language of the paddock. You were one of the youngest reporters there, but that didn’t mean you were inexperienced. That had just completely caught you off guard. 

Franco cocked a brow before showing you and the camera how he could manipulate said organ so the sides touched and a tiny hole formed in the middle. 

Yet again he surprised you, or more you surprised yourself with how further down the gutter your mind was at. 

“Oh, good!” You snapped out of it, but he had seemingly finally connected the dots, or so the smirk in his face made it seem like it. 

“Well, thank you for having us, Franco. Good luck during the weekend.” Your  composure was back not even two seconds later, the cameraman soon signaled the transmission was off. A relieved sigh left your lips while your shoulders relaxed, giving your coworker the mic and transmitter to take to the media tent just a few steps away. 

You were just turning back to head there as well, ready to get immersed in writing a report before your name was called. Your heels turned you around by force of habit, not realizing the tone in the driver’s voice might mean trouble. 

“Yes?” You asked politely, hands clasped in front of you to avoid any chance of fidgeting. Your little crush was idiotic, or so you considered it from the day you first interviewed him. 

“¿Qué vas a hacer hoy?” He took a step closer in order to ask the question, hands stuffed in the front pockets of his jeans. 

“¿Perdón?” You realized that sounded rude, your voice repeating a better answer soon after. “Seguir trabajando, why?” A frown settled between your brows, head leaning slightly to the right. Where was this going exactly? The confusion only settled further when you noticed his eyes darting around before leaning in. 

“Si querés que de verdad te enseñe que puedo hacer con mi lengua, entra al motorhome después de las siete, te dejo la puerta de atrás abierta. Mi cuarto está a la izquierda.” And with that, he pulled away, turned around and left. 

You did the same, convinced the idea was just a figment of your imagination, the drought you’ve been suffering for more than a year to get there tricking every nerve in your brain to believe those words. It was settling into the late afternoon, and you worked at a pace Sonic would envy. His words bounced around your gray matter, and after much debating you stayed after the six pm mark, when everyone else left. You peered your head out of your station noticing how the place was almost empty. It was Thursday after all, the whole crews were not active until the following day. 

The curiosity got the best of you, and you packed your bag to head there, skittish at the sight of anyone who crossed your way— or at least the few that did. 

No one was used to walking behind the team buildings, never mind during what’s considered after hours. Your breath got stuck in your throat when you noticed the door ajar, and no one came in nor out to justify the fact. 

“Thought you wouldn’t come.” Franco’s voice snapped you out of the hesitation, arms crossed over his chest. 

“I thought I was supposed to come in by myself.” You got the bravery to counter with the way your heart sped up with adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

“You’re late.” Franco’s response was quick, witty. His tone made you raise your brow; it was… different. Commanding, you could pinpoint. 

“I shouldn’t come out and get you, vení.” Before you could even process it, he took your arm and dragged you inside, going straight down the hallway and taking a left before the door closed shut— no witnesses visible to what he had just done. 

“You can sit wherever you like.” He invited, his voice was back to its playful tone. You nodded, putting your bag down by the door and sitting on the small couch near a corner. 

“Sos muy bonita, ¿sabías?” He complimented while finishing to fix up his room, side eyeing you. 

“Why am I here? What do you want?” You asked bluntly, not accepting the compliment. 

“Look, if you wanted me to write positively about you on the piece, you already got it.” You carefully watched him take a seat next to you, and you both turned to face each other.

“Tonta también, ¿no?” It was as if you were ignoring each other’s words, and before you could get offended, his fingertips brushed your hair out of the way of your face. Any smart quip you could’ve thrown at him flew out the window, your lips parting. 

“That’s just how you looked at me earlier. When you thought I was referring to something dirty. Tontita.” He inched closer. You couldn’t help but do the same, a bit eagerly, eliciting a laugh out of his lips. 

“Do you like me?” It was his turn to be blunt. Without hesitation you nodded, squeezing your lips into a thin line after realizing that might’ve been a mistake. An embarrassing one at that. 

“No pasa nada. Vos también me gustás preciosa…” His voice trailed with his head leaning closer, lips brushing against the prickled skin of your neck. “…inteligente…” A kiss pressed to the area. “…y al parecer, puta.” 

The gasp disappeared between the blurred lines of your lips and his crashing, the term disappearing in your mind while you kissed him. Your hands gripped the material of his team shirt while his own lowered down your back, pulling you closer, almost on top of his lap. 

“¿Hacés esto mucho? Sneak into other drivers’ rooms?” He asked while leaning back down to kiss your neck with a twinge of more harshness, ragged breath leaving your lips while you shook your head ‘no’ 

“¿Sos muda? Habla.” There was that commanding tone again, his fingers delving into the skin of your thighs to squeeze what he wanted out of you. 

“No. Nunca.” You replied with a gulp, leaning your head back to recieve more kisses as a reward for your answer. 

“So I’m the lucky winner?” It sounded something between a compliment and a joke, and you decided to humor him a little with a smile. 

“One could say so.” You replied, thinking you’ve gotten the gist of it. 

“I’m surprised. With that skirt…” He shook his head after tutting, making you figure out the context of his words. You were into it enough to not get offended by the allegation, normally would have defended yourself with the fact it was terribly hot outside. You didn’t like dressing similar to the rest of the reporters in the paddock, and maybe this once it played both in your favor and against it… sort of. 

His lips captured yours again, his tongue swiping your bottom lip. You weren’t dumb— even if he liked to say so— parting your lips without complaint, feeling the way your tongues tangled together while he pushed you down until your back hit the fabric of the furniture. 

The open mouth kisses started redirecting their path down your jaw, following a trail down the length of your neck. He took the opportunity to breathe your scent. 

“Olés tan rico,” He groaned, the growing erection in his jeans pressing against your upper thigh. 

“I can already imagine how that pretty pussy tastes. Can’t wait to make you cum just using my tongue.”  The idea made you shudder, his hands raising your top to move it out of the way while he kept kissing back. You took the initiative to just pull it over your head and throw it somewhere else. 

“You’re so good, stripping for me without having to ask.” Franco cooed, his pace slowing down when his mouth reached down your belly button, making him look at him expectantly. 

What you didn’t expect was for him to just tug on your denim skirt up to completely move it out of the way without removing the piece, his knuckles brushing the spot marked with your aroused slickness, your hips involuntarily twitching to lean closer into his touch. 

“Si solo te he besado y ya estás re mojadita,” Another coo left his mouth, this one with a certain amount of jest in it. You felt deeply embarrassed in a way your face displayed it, only making his smile grow in size. 

Franco almost ripped off the underwear and chucked it somewhere in the room. No moment to adapt was left at your disposition, his tongue pressing flat against your wet core. The noise of a moan coming from you clashed with the hum of satisfaction he felt from the sheer taste of you. 

“So sweet,” Franco praised, and those were the last words to come out of his mouth before he started to back up his words from earlier. 

The whole situation felt like a dream. Not only the fact he made an advance upon noticing how far down the gutter your mind was, but the fact you even came there in the first place. Not that you regretted it, with how he flicked that sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue.  

You didn’t believe his promise earlier— thinking it was just silly dirty talking— but he was proving you wrong. Your moans were the perfect evidence, fingers tangling in his curls while his left hand rose up to grope your exposed breast. 

The shuffling noise outside the room made him perk up and away from your dripping cunt, chin glistening with your wetness. He pulled his index fingers to his lips to signal you to be quiet before continuing, but his attempt fell futile. You were reaching your release quick, his magic working a little too well. There was no warning; his other hand left the grip on your thigh to cover your mouth, holding it down a bit too roughly to send a message. 

Your muffled moans and cries only set him off, teasing your entrance before licking the trail up to your clitoris, suckling on it. He fluttered his eyes open, and the sight was nothing but completely arousing. Your eyes were rolled back, column arching up while his expert affections tipped you over the edge. Your thighs simultaneously shivered and lightly squeezed his head, and it was enough for Franco to decide he was in heaven. 

Once the overwhelming sensation started to wear off, your legs relaxed, allowing him to pull away. With a clearer mind you noticed how his chin and lips glistened before removing the substance with the back of his hand, as if it was just sauce from an actual meal. 

“¿Por qué me mirás así?” Franco wondered at your blissful expression. “¿Ya te enamoraste, putita?” There was no verbal answer; he was eager to link his lips with yours again in yet another sloppy makeout session. This once, however, you couldn’t pretend you didn’t feel his erection pressing against your inner thigh. 

Taking initiative, your hand lowered down his torso to fumble the button of his pants a little before being able to undo it. A groan followed by teeth tugging at your bottom lip was the reaction you gained from jerking him off slowly under his underwear. That gave you enough confidence to swipe your thumb across the leaking tip in order to tease him. 

The sound of a moan from him echoed inside your mouth, a hum from satisfaction leaving consequently. However, your moment of dominance soon faded with his hand slapping yours away before spreading your legs even further— to the point it pulled on the muscles of your inner thigh just a little, the burning sensation mushing with pleasure— the skirt hiking up to rest on your torso. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He leaned in to whisper, feeling him nudge your entrance in order to tease you. The sensation that followed was something similar to your brain shutting down, managing to only nod. The smell of his cologne, his body pressing down on you. 

Franco, Franco, Franco, Fran— 

“¿Qué pasa tontita? Say it.” He egged you on, threatening to push himself inside, but not making it far enough to bring you satisfaction. 

“Yes, por favor.” You begged, getting a chaste kiss for a reward followed by the intrusion spreading your warm walls. You saw the way Franco tried to keep it together, the façade crumbling under a groan. You felt too good. His mind could only pinpoint your body under his, the warmth hugging his stiff dick and electrifying every nerve of his being. 

His mind couldn’t stop chanting your name. 

“Move,” You asked nicely, though it came out in a huff. He found himself too enthralled to complain at your tone, instead complying. 

The lower tone of his moans harmonized with the high pitched of yours, the sound of skin frantically coming in contact filling up the room enough for both of you two to forget what could possibly be going on outside. At least it had been a while since you last heard people outside doing whatever. 

“Dios, que apretadita estás,” Franco groaned out loud, his lips brushing against yours. You took the leap, closing the distance between the two of you. But you couldn’t get much out of it due to your own fault, moans interrupting the session. 

“No, besáme.” You whined when he pulled away slightly, and a smirk rose at his lips before he locked them with yours, pace increasing. You struggled to engage further, the moans and groans interrupting. 

“No, besáme.” Franco replicated your plea from earlier before laughing between heavy breaths. 

You couldn’t do anything but pucker your bottom lip out, not finding the words to complain about how mean he was being. Besides, all coherent thoughts disappeared the moment you felt your second orgasm peeking from behind you at a rapid rate. Your nails dug into the uncovered skin of his forearms, just below where the team shirt started covering his biceps. 

“¿Por qué me apretás tanto?” He hissed before falling upon the realization, deciding to keep having his fun with you and slowing down. 

“Fuck— ¡¿qué te pasa?!” You groaned, feeling the release reeling down into a sensation of being completely stuck midway. 

“Dale, decime lo que quieres. De forma bonita, como vos.” He kept his thrusts slow and deep, trying to contain his own release from the pulsating walls squeezing the life out of his cock. 

“I wanna cum,” You felt the embarrassment of having to request that out loud settle in your stomach, soon washed over by the sensation the quickening of his hips gave your core. 

“Si, si. Franco, that’s it,” You cried out, hiding your face in the crook of his neck while your thighs shivered once more. 

Your cunt was so warm and tight he almost didn’t pull out. Almost. After a groan left the back of his throat, droplets of white painted your lower abdomen, thankfully not staining your skirt. 

He kept himself supported by his forearms, allowing him to lean in and kiss your forehead and cheeks. 

There wasn’t much to be said, you knew that, and so did he. Carefully, he fixed his underwear and pants before getting up, muttering something under his breath in his attempt to find the wet wipes he knew he had… somewhere in the organized clutter of his room. 

“Dejá que te limpio,” His voice was tender, the wet tissue dragging across your skin to remove the seminal liquid, before another carefully cleaned the sweat off your forehead and neck. 

You thanked him with a nod, unable to hold eye contact for long. Once you felt comfortable you sat up, fixing your clothes and hair before getting up on your legs, still a bit wobbly. You took it upon yourself to clean the damp spot on the couch where you laid, still embarrassed by the whole ordeal. 

Quickly, you slipped your underwear on, unaware of the pair of eyes following your every move with a cold calculation. 

“¿Qué vas a hacer hoy?” The question he asked to what seemed to be ages ago popped up again, making you turn, just as confused as you were earlier. 

“Dormir… cenar. Ya veremos, dijo el ciego.” At your cheeky response his laughter echoed through the room, arms folded over his torso. 

“¿Habrá un espacio para mí en esa cena o nos vemos mañana a la misma hora?” He took a step closer. Then another. And another. Until he stood in front of you, leaning down enough to whisper in your ear. 

“No importa si no me querés ver hoy en la noche todo caballeroso, mañana procura llegar a tiempo y controlar esa boquita.” Yet again, his voice electrified goosebumps all over your skin. 

What did you just get yourself into?

[aphrogeneias]

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 — squirting

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: shy!reader (not "innocent" or inexperienced, just a little more reserved). penetrative sex.

Chrissy didn't know what she was doing.

It was an innocent question — as innocent as the questions being raised could be, that night. The conversation had quickly descended into more risqué subjects after Steve had gotten a little too tipsy and started complaining about his lack of luck on his latest escapades.

Nothing out of the ordinary, really. You were all used to talking about sex in one way or another. Eddie was famously loud about it, always having a story to tell, his or otherwise. Stories that made you imagine yourself on the receiving end of, guiltily wanting your friend to do those same things he was describing to you.

You kept those fantasies to yourself, though. Not wanting to be teased by the girls, maybe even worse, have them try to set you up with him. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if Eddie ever rejected you, or dated you out of pity. There was no scenario where this would work in your mind, no "you and Eddie", just you and your thoughts of him, where he would never hurt you, where all he did was make you feel good, imagining it his hands on your body, roaming until they found that place between your legs, instead of your own.

That night, it was no different. After Steve started the conversation, there was no stopping it. You often listened more than talked — not due to lack of experience, you were just a little too shy to share too much, even among close friends — but when the talk switched to Robin commenting about making her girlfriend squirt, you slipped.

"Good for her."

Your reply may have sounded a little more bitter than you'd anticipated, because, one by one, all of your friends looked at you. Maybe it was the scoff that has left your mouth, maybe it was the alcohol that had loosened your tongue. 

"What was that?" Nancy asked, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow at you.

"Yeah. What was that?" This time, it was Eddie who repeated her question. He sat on the opposite couch with his legs spread, tight black jeans stretching on his lean legs, making you wish you sat between them. You avoided his eyes.

"Nothing. I mean…", you signed, already regretting having said anything, "it's good! Good for her. Robin is good to her, that's a good thing."

You cringed even before you could finish all those convoluted sentences.

"Honey, have you ever… you know," Chrissy asked from her place on the floor, sitting as delicate as a fairy. "squirted?"

"No." You said, simply. Scared to run your mouth even more. "It's not a big deal. Doesn't happen to everybody."

"Have you tried?" Steve asked from behind his beer. He got a myriad of answers ranging from "that's not how It works, dingus!" from Robin, "it's not a matter of trying" from Nancy and "don't ask that, dude" from Eddie.

"I don't even know where to start, Steve. And before anyone asks, yes, I have cum from sex. Just not… like that."

You wanted to crawl into the nearest hole. It was even worse when you could feel Eddie's eyes on you, like he could see right through you. He tilted his head, and you weren't able to handle the kindness in his brown eyes. You looked away.

Your friends' opinions diverged again, making questions and trying to get you to speak, but you couldn't deal with their scrutiny anymore.

"C'mon, guys. It's fine! Can we change the subject, please?" You tried to swerve them. "Like I said, it's not a big deal. Maybe I'm just broken like that."

They shrugged. You shrugged. They moved on — but Eddie's eyes stayed on you for the rest of the night.

You're on Eddie's passenger seat, right in front of your apartment building, later that night when he brings the subject up again.

"I don't think you're broken."

The two of you had spent the entire ride silent, which was odd since Eddie was the chatterbox between the two of you, always filling the gaps with anything that would cross his mind. Neither that, nor his music filled the silence between you.

"What?" You looked at him, still not believing what you'd heard.

"You said that maybe you were broken like that. That's not true, you're… you're perfect."

That feeling of wanting to hide came back tenfold, making your eyes fill with tears. "Eddie, forget about it, please."

"Hey," he brought your gaze back to him with a finger to your chin, delicately turning your head. "I meant what I said. You're perfect, it's just that no one's taken the time to treat you right. It takes patience, from both sides."

"Yeah, and?"

"I was thinking that maybe I could change that. If you'd let me."

One thing you'd always admired about Eddie was his strength of conviction. He never said anything he didn't believe in, and backed it all up. His voice never faltered, he doesn't shy away from speaking his mind — and you hated that you were forcing yourself to disbelieve him.

"Eddie…"

"Look at me." He pleaded, and in spite of your concerns, you did as he told. His eyes bore into your with a sincerity that was so painfully him. "You can say no. I'll go home and we'll forget about everything I just said. But, sweetheart… I'm dying to prove you wrong."

Eventually, he did.

After you'd gotten up the stairs to your floor kissing and tugging at each other's clothes, letting Eddie's tongue taste yours over and over, stopping to let yourself be cornered against the wall by him. Getting lost in the feeling of his solid body against yours, the smell of him — a strong, masculine perfume, cigarettes and beer — making you dizzy, his lips on your neck making you even dizzier.

After he took your clothes off halfway down your living room, reverencing your body with his rough hands, kneeling between your feet in the middle of your halfway. He made you cum for the first time that night with his mouth, kissing your pussy the way he kissed your mouth, sucking on your clit the same way he sucked on your tongue. You came as you pulled his hair, his strong arms around your hips preventing you from falling.

After he guided you to your bed, still craving a taste of you. Hands not knowing where to sit still while he pulled another orgasm from you, his fingers deep within you, curling and stroking your walls, his mouth still not leaving your clit. Your ears buzzed with the force of your climax, not being able to hear Eddie's praise. "That's my girl," he said, head resting on the plush of your thigh, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, "doing such a good job, but I'm not done with you yet."

After he made your eyes blur with pleasure when you finally entered you, rubbing the head of his cock on your sensitive bundle of nerves, once, twice, three times before putting it in, slowly bottoming out. Leaving kisses all over your face, shining with sweat. You didn't think you could take it, curling your toes and hugging his narrow hips with your spread legs, feeling each thrust with a tenderness you never did before.

After he filled and stretched you to the brim, pulling out only to push it all in again. Uttering against your skin, broken whimpers, your name on his lips like a prayer. You were beyond the point of forming words, kissing him to stop yourself from screaming. You could feel yourself dripping down your pussy, and into the sheets, soaking Eddie's cock.

After he pulled your thigh higher up his waist, and stood on his knees, pounding into you with measured speed. He hit your spot over, and over, and over — you grabbed the sheets with both hands, repeating his name like a broken record, music to his ears.

"Yeah? That feels good, baby? Am I making you feel good?" Eddie looked like a god above you. Wild hair down to his shoulders, pale skin slick with sweat, eyes drilled on you. You made the mistake of looking down to where your bodies met, watching his thick cock drenched with your juices, going in and out of you. His pubic hair, also matted with your wetness, creating a delicious friction against your clit. "Tell me. Who's making you feel this good?"

"You, Eddie." You whimpered. "You, you, you. Always you."

"That's right, baby. That's" a hard thrust, "fucking," a a squeeze of your thigh, "right."

You felt your orgasm approach with a  deep pressure on your navel, building and building until you couldn't keep It down anymore. You let yourself go, the ringing in your ears louder and cleared, cumming with Eddie's name on your lips.

That's when you felt it. You were limp in your bed, with Eddie above you. You'd felt him cum too, dropping his weight above you, but still keeping himself steady by his elbows. but everything was distant, like it was happening in a dream. Slowly, you came back to yourself — to Eddie, gently coaxing you with sweet words, and to the warm wetness coating your thighs, your ass, and Eddie's lower half.

"Did I…?"

"Fuck yeah, you did." His boyish smile, so different from the confident smirk you saw not moments ago, made you smile too, weakly and still a little embarrassed, but too satisfied to care.

"Happy now?"

"Only when you do it again." 

[batchilla]

Your new partner is Grayson.

He’s a weird guy.

Not necessarily a bad guy, but a weird one.

He’s not cold, in fact he’s rather friendly. However, when you really consider it, he volunteered very little information on his personal life. Reasonable, you suppose. So long as he has your back in the field and gets his reports done, you don’t need to be best friends.

Your new partner Grayson is a recent Gotham transplant. You’d never personally been, but you weren’t oblivious to how utterly mad the city was. You could hardly blame him for getting out.

Your new partner Grayson, tenses up whenever someone mentions the Batman, or any of the nutcases he fights. You don’t pry.

You do your own research.

Your new partner Grayson watched his parents die. He’d been taken in by Gotham’s favourite son, a man he seemed reluctant to speak of. He’d had, and lost a brother, to the most deranged man Gotham, if not the world, had ever known.

You stop mentioning Gotham around him after that.

Your new partner Grayson is a weird guy, who seems constantly surprised whenever you demonstrate competency.

At first you’d suspected sexism. It wouldn’t have been your first partner to have that failing.

After a few days though, you catch him being equally surprised when officer Jackson makes a connection on a string of breaking and entries, and realise that perhaps he’s just not used to the cops not being utterly reliant on a very scary angsty furry and a small child without pants.

Your new partner, Grayson, is a weird guy, who disappears sometimes. Middle of a chase he’ll be gone, and you won’t see him again for sometimes as long as hours, before he’s back. More often than not, somehow through some insane luck, the perp will have been taken down by Bludhaven’s new vigilante, and tied to a lamppost for you to find. You both hated and envied his luck.

Your new partner Grayson was a weird guy… and he was a damn good cop.

He made connections like no one else. It was like he had some sort of sixth sense. You’d asked him once, about how he seemed to know all he did. How he seemed to have access to a whole other database of clues you just couldn’t see.

And he’d smiled that cheeky smile of his, and told you he’d been consulting an oracle.

Your new partner, Grayson, moves like nothing you’ve ever seen.

You’d initially attributed it to his past as an acrobat. The way he could simply parkour over and around anything in his way, run faster then he had any right to, chase down a perp like a bloodhound.

It was more than that though. You’d say without hesitation that if you were in a firefight, he’s who you’d want at your side. You must’ve owed him your life three times over by now. Even in those situations though, when no one would have blamed him for the use of lethal force, he never had.

You’d been pinned down by a smuggling ring. You, Grayson, and ten of them - all armed to the teeth.

He’d been incredible. Superhuman, almost.

Someone had shot out the lights. He’d told you one of the smugglers must have missed. You’d never once believed him.

Ten smugglers. You’d managed to knock out and cuff one, unwilling to risk taking a shot blind.

The other nine? Those had been your partner. He had them unconscious in a heap by the time your eyes had adjusted.

No bullet wounds. He’d done it hand to hand.

You didn’t know exactly what he was hiding, but you knew he was hiding something. You decided not to call him out on it. Not as long as you trusted that whatever he was using his … inexplicable skills for was good.

And trust you did.

Grayson was a good man. Even knowing little about him

Which was why this betrayal hurt so badly.

“Say again?”

You’d sat in relative silence in an unmarked police car for about half an hour on a stakeout, and Richard Grayson had just said the worst sentence you’d ever heard. You’d never been so utterly horrified.

“Peeps popcorn.” He says, holding up the tupperware containing an atrocious biohazard, grinning from ear to ear.

“One more time please?” you fight to keep up your faked anger, but fail in the face of that fucking smile.

Honestly, it should be some sort of crime to smile like that. Like everything would work out in the end, so long as you could keep him smiling at you.

“Peeps. Popcorn.” He says it a third time. He’s trying and failing not to laugh at her, at the way her mouth twists and flails to maintain a frown.

He was tempted to tell her it was in vain. He’d broken Batman, and he’d make her smile too.

Honestly, she had such a pretty smile. Not that he’d say that, she was his partner, and they needed to keep things professional.

“It’s my turn to provide stakeout snacks, and so,” he lifts the lid of the peeps popcorn balls.

“Peeps popcorn.”

She rolls her eyes, and looks out the window of the passenger side. But she’s smiling. “It is one of life’s great injustices,” she huffs “that you can eat like that and maintain your… impressive physique.”

Dick feels his chest puff out a little. While he had been able to tell all along that she had a crush on him, but he’d never risk acting on it. Still, it felt nice to be complemented by her.

“Seriously, do you clock off and just do the ninja warrior course all night or something?” She muses, her head against the window, looking at him out of the side of her eye.

“Not exactly,” he replies, sitting back in his seat, bringing his foot up onto the cushion. “Try one.” he presses, poking her side with the container.

She takes one, rolling her eyes and nibbles at the neon cluster of popcorn.

“No. no.” she gags, “oh that's nasty. Oh, it's so sweet. Why? Why Grayson. Why would you do this to me?” she asks, setting the sticky concoction on the divider between their seats.

Dick just laughs “I am determined to make you a peeps convert.”

“Never, regular marshmallows are fine.”

“Peeps are rainbow.”

“How old are you?”

“There is no age too old to enjoy whimsy, Detective.” he responds, biting into his own.

“Besides, are you implying that rainbow marshmallows are irregular? In this day and age? Tut tut.”

“We are not making me out to be a homophobe over peeps!” she protests, still laughing, slightly taken aback at the audacity.

“If you say so.” he says, stretching his arms over his head and into the backseat. Stakeouts were terrible. He was not built to sit still in a confined space for hours at a time. However, this one provided a useful opportunity he cannot afford to waste.

Not to torment her with his war of attrition for peeps supremacy - though that was fun.

He needed to be sure of something else.

“Well. You being wrong about peeps aside. I … wanted to check back on a file from a few months ago. You uh… you didn’t move the Holt murder file, did you?”

“Holt.” she clicks her tongue in thought “the guy with…” she gestures to her chest.

“That's the guy.”

“Not knowingly. I haven’t had cause to reopen it. No new leads. I tried to track down the kid… He didn’t want a bar for me. Guess I can’t blame him. I offered the help I could… but well… the last time someone helped him his dad got brutally murdered. He’s staying in the tent city by the docks, best I can figure.” She seems to feel guilty as soon as she says it, but Dick doesn’t blame her.

He had paid for that room. If he hadn’t… who knows what might have happened?

“But if someone moved it?” he prompts, not wanting to dwell on that gnawing guilt.

“Wasn’t me.”

Your new partner, Grayson, was a weird guy who ate strange and terrible foods.

He blames himself for what happened to poor Mr Holt. Because he was good to the core, and somehow that had led to something utterly twisted.

He’s also standing on your balcony. On the 20th floor.

And it all makes sense now.

Your apartment isn’t particularly nice. It was small, and frequently disorganised. Especially when you got overly invested in a case.

You’d been texted many gifs of the conspiracy board meme by friends over the years.

Work life balance? Not something you’d ever seen much value in.

And now, your unfairly attractive new partner Grayson was in your apartment, in full vigilante getup.

You need to find a way to be normal about that in ten seconds or less, because he’s staring at you, and you're staring at him, and it's starting to get awkward.

“Hello.” you eek out.

He greets you as Detective, followed by your first and last name.

Unusually formal, for him. Unless… unless he somehow thinks a few inches of fabric in the shape of a wingding is going to fool you.

Unless he thinks he’s got you hoodwinked.

“Nightwing… to what do I owe the pleasure?”

He leans in the doorframe, his hands braced against its top, so he is leaning into your space without touching you, and giving you plenty of ability to step back if you so chose. You don’t.

“I have reason to suspect there’s a serial killer moving though Bludhaven. And that whoever they are, they have someone in your precinct on the payroll.”

You fold your arms, bristling.

“Not sure I appreciate the accusation.” Sure, the bludhaven police department was ridiculously corrupted. But you’d hope that your partner would have at least the trust in you not to think you’d help a serial killer.

“No accusation.” he reassures “a request for help. I need someone I can trust inside the department. And my source says that’s you, sherlock.”

His source? Was he kidding?

No. No he wasn’t.

Oh this was madness.

This was hysterical.

He really, truly thinks that you can’t know him outside of his streetwear. And he’s trying to pass it off like he doesn’t know himself either.

Perhaps you should tell him you know.

But… Grayson and his peeps tomfoolery isn’t the only one who can have fun.

“So… you’re asking me to… what, exactly?” You prompt, unfolding your arms, willing to give him a chance.

Nightwing offers you a smile. It’s slightly different from Richard Graysons.

It’s just as sunny, and it makes you feel just as warm and fuzzy and giggly inside. You have to fight even harder to stop yourself blushing, given how much less this getup leaves to the imagination then his usual dress pants, shirt and tie.

But it’s a little more … brazzen. Flirtatious. More… cocky. Sure, He was always at least a bit of a show off, but as nightwing? He was one of the most capable, incredible people alive, and he wasn’t shy about it.

Oh, you were doomed. But that was a problem for later.

“I’m asking you to keep an eye on the ‘heartless’ case. Holt… he’s not the only one and I think there’s going to be more. And, to be blunt?”

He stands up straight, and puts an arm on your shoulder.

“It’s a big request. But you might be the only person in that station who I have real confidence in.”

You wonder what that says about his relationship with himself, but like so many things with Richard, you don’t ask.

“I can do that.”

“And I understand that it’s dange— I’m sorry, did you just agree?” he cuts himself off, staring at you.

You laugh then, just the once.

You owed him your life many times over as his partner. But as nightwing?

Since he’d come on the scene, you’d actually felt like something mattered. Like change could happen.

Like someone was willing to help the people of Bludhaven not to reap a profit, but because the system you’d once hoped to help restore was broken at its very core, and restoration wasn’t the solution - reformation and fundamental change was. And you didn’t know how to do that.

But then Nightwing had come onto the scene, and started kicking the asses of the worst of the worst, and you had felt like you had when you’d joined the force, bright eyed, bushy tailed, and determined to make a difference.

Before the incident. And every other day, when you’d felt that optimism slowly being crushed to death, into a fine powder and blown away in the wind.

“Yeah.” you say, and agreeing to help is one of the best feelings in the world. You get to help. To make a real difference.

“Bludhaven owes you a hell of a lot, Nightwing… seems like the least I can do is tell you if anything weird comes up.”

“Right. Thank you.” he clearly wasn’t expecting this. Maybe he’d thought it would be a harder sell.

“If I do… have anything for you, how should I alert you?”

He passes you a wingding. “Put this in your window. I’ll check in every few days.”

You raise an eyebrow “all your fancy tech and you don’t have a phone”

He shrugs “phones are traceable. Plausibly just something you picked up on a case as a trinket that you ‘forgot’ to log in evidence left on a windowsill? Lot harder to trace.”

“Fair.” you acknowledge.

“Besides.” he steps backwards onto your balcony once more “your place is on one of my main patrol routes. Can’t let anything happen to the best looking detective Blud’s got.”

You scoff, without any real offence. You know he’s only playing, and that he does, as Richard, respect your intellect more then your appearance - but you suppose as ‘nightwing’ he doesn’t know you that well.

“I think you mean best detective full stop.” you respond, and he gives a small bow of playful deference.

“But of course, sherlock.”

And then he’s gone.

That night, you don’t sleep.

You felt so stupid. He’s nightwing. He’s been nightwing the whole time.

The skills. The disappearing. The way he seemed to just… know things.

The way he tensed whenever someone mentioned Gotham.

… the timing of Robin reportedly becoming a child again.

Had your new partner, Grayson, been Robin?

Had he been using the Batman's archives to solve cases? Was that his so called oracle?

… wait.

Was Bruce Wayne the FUCKING BATMAN?

You screamed into your pillow. You were laying awake, face down in your bed, because now you had realised far too many things in one night.

The first: Your new partner is Nightwing.

The second: Bruce Wayne might be Batman.

The third: you, enchanted by that fucking perfect smile, had agreed to help track down a serial killer stealing hearts.

The fourth: Your new partner, Richard Grayson, between his stupid snacks, the Alfred Pennyworth foundation he’s been working to get off the ground, and his work as Nightwing, will save Bludhaven, you know it to your core.

And the fifth. The worst, and scariest part of your night: You may very well have fallen in love with him.

Chapter two

If you read this far, reblog?

Divider credit: @strangergraphics

Tag list:

@jasontoddproblems

@sunnie-angel

@stormz369

First time writing Dick! Feedback is welcome.

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐩 ! ♡. | xiao, kaveh, gorou, lyney, wriothesley x gn!reader

⤷ art by @/grimruu on twitter... i added the boops :> .. fluff, established relationship. dw its an actual fic ( just trsut me )

" boop ! "

— 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

he's startled, that's something certain. xiao's not used to random actions like this; shouldn't one move with purpose...?

blinking at you, his round eyes are more so filled with surprise than disdain. "what... what did you just-" yet... well, you've just tapped your finger to his nose, and now you're grinning like an idiot... truly, the hearts of mortals were something he'd never quite understand.

"it's fun!" yet again, you move forwards, and while xiao is expecting another "boop" from your finger, he's caught off guard when you give him a small kiss on the nose instead.

"boop."

xiao's voice is uncharacteristically faint, quiet. "ah..."

he hides his face behind a hand, trying to evade his clear embarrassment before it catches your eyes. "you're so... stupid."

... and you'd almost believe it, if it weren't for the evident flush dusted across the tips of his ears.

" boop ! "

— 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇

he's well into his third drink by the time you boop his nose, and it takes him another few seconds and a lethargic blink or two before he even registers the action.

when he does, a silly smile spreads across his face, his already drunkenly flushed cheeks warming further. "booop?" the word slurs together, and a slow finger moves to boop you on your nose as well.

too bad, it misses the mark, and he ends up poking your upper lip, frowning when he does so. "ah, oops... lemme try again..." this time, he manages to find your nose. a smugly proud smile appears on his features thanks to the success.

god, he was so pathetic. you loved him for it.

cupping his cheek, you sneakily lean forward and press a kiss to his nose. his skin is warm to the touch. "boop." before he can strike back, you hit him with a double combo, this time kissing him on the lips.

"whuh.. no fair," his eyebrows furrow as he pouts childishly. "i wan..na... too..."

he falls asleep before he can finish his sentence, slumping onto the table and conking out immediately. as expected. you tuck his messy hair behind his ear with a fond smile. he'd have a hell of a headache in the morning. ah, but... tolerating his whines would be worth it — you'd gotten to kiss him, after all.

... his lips tasted like wine.

" boop ! "

— 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐔

he jolts like he's been shocked, and you have to suppress a laugh at the sight. "e-eh, what was-?" one of his ears twitches subconsciously, and you can tell he's trying to maintain eye contact to the best of his abilities. hey, it wasn't everyday your lover swung by camp just to tap you on the nose... were you teasing him??

"it's a boop." you state it, matter-of-fact, and gorou only grows more helplessly confused. "boop." just like that, you poke him again. his eyes widen in realization (though he's far off the mark). agh, could it be that more rumors had spread of his "good luck", except this time, instead of rubbing his ears for good fortune, it's tapping his nose instead..?

you watch his eyes swirl with perplexion — really, what was the point in watching those highly-acclaimed entertainment films from fontaine when an entire life's worth of entertainment was right in front of you? "c'mon, don't tell me you've fallen for it too?"

...what was he even talking about? no matter, it was cute seeing him panic (though he'd disagree). you smile at him cheekily, "fallen? why, gorou, the only thing i've fallen for is you ~"

silence.

then the sound of someone choking. gorou upright sputters, his face hopelessly red, before springing forward and getting his revenge; that is, kissing you on the tip of your nose, too embarrassed to keep his eyes open while doing so.

"ugh, you're such a tease..."

... how could you not be, when he was so adorable?

" boop ! "

— 𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐘

he smiles, his eyes twinkling as they become upturned crescents. "oh? a tap to the nose..." he seems oddly delighted in the action, and perks up not long after, with a strange, mischievous shine in his eyes.

he shuffles through his signature deck of cards with a grin. "love, why don't you pick a card? any card from the deck, whichever one you want~"

you eye him suspiciously.

he has the demeanor of a cunning cat, one that if you turn your gaze away from for a mere second, is sure to cause trouble. well... he was your lover, so you should have some faith in him. drawing a card from the ones he's presented in his hands, you receive the two of hearts.

before you can even properly glance up from your cards, you're met with a faceful of brilliant red roses, each delicate petal perfectly curving in place and green, glistening leaves healthy and lush. lyney's the one behind it all, a smug smile on his lips, and before you can even open your mouth to speak, he leaps forward and swiftly kisses your nose.

"boop."

and he sticks his tongue out, smoothly tucking a rose (without thorns, mind you) into your hair.

hell, he was so smooth. your brain wasn't even able to register half his actions until half a minute after, and when you did, your face burned.

"haha~ what's wrong, love?"

... this guy was seriously dangerous for your heart.

" boop ! "

— 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

he stares you dead in the eyes, in a sort of, "did you really just do that?" kind of way. it's not that he's disappointed, per say, but more so shocked; even siegewinnie wouldn't dare do such a thing like pokingg the duke's nose, (on second thought, maybe she would)... either way, he sits there in a sort of shell-shocked manner, the cup of tea he had begun to lift to his lips long forgotten. "you..."

"boop." you say it like it's all the explanation he needs. in case he doesn't understand, you'll be so generous as to say it a second time, nodding your head for extra confirmation. "boop."

he lets out a lighthearted sigh, one that makes it easy to tell he's on the edge of releasing a chuckle. crossing his arms over his desk and leaning over it, he grabs your chin with his fingers, gently lifting it to raise your gaze to his level.

"boop." this time, he's the one booping you, and he seems all too amused about it, a sly smile on his lips as he does it moves to do it once more. "boop."

hey, was he copying you-? the thought isn't able to completely form before your brain utterly short circuits; the reason? none other than the duke of the fortress of meropide kissing your nose, of course.

wriothesley's enjoying this way too much... yet he seems so utterly unaffected when he pulls away, settling back into his chair and taking a serene sip of his tea, like he hadn't just committed several war crimes against your heart.

... fuck, if it skipped too many beats, would you die??

(a/n) happy boop- i mean april fools dayyy !! mwah mwah watch me pull some "im quitting" shii next year :>

𝐭 𝐚 𝐠 𝐥 𝐢 𝐬 𝐭 : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @solxima, @sangoqueenkoko, @haliyamori ...

[ghostaholics]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄-𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓

➸ PAIRING: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn!reader (aside from a single idiom whose origin uses masculine language/pronouns - every man for himself) ➸ SUMMARY: Against all odds, the Lieutenant accidentally falls asleep on your shoulder. Unfortunately, there are witnesses to the precarious situation (just your luck that it would be Gaz and Soap). ➸ WORD COUNT: 2k

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄: don't poke the bear.

Danger in your line of work typically consists of trying to walk away from a mission while still being left completely intact (i.e. the goal is to make it out alive, in one piece). You’ve survived a great number of ordeals: cornered into a shootout with a dwindling supply of ammo, tiptoed your way through a field of pressure-sensitive IEDs, dove towards probable death (with an awfully high probability of splattering onto hot, concrete hell like a bug on a windshield) because your helo was sent tail spinning courtesy of a perfectly-aimed RPG – and really, the list goes on.

It's been child’s play, in the grand scheme of things. An extensive catalogue of life-or-death scenarios accounts for your entire military career. And sure, this might be a bit of a stretch, but you'd wager that none of those instances thus far have been as high-stakes as the current predicament you’ve found yourself in.

Jesus-fucking-Christ. Why’d Ghost have to fall asleep on you?

𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: avoid sitting next to him on the plane ride home. You've had to learn it the hard way.

And the kicker is that this whole thing could’ve been avoided; it didn’t have to be your problem. You could’ve sentenced any one of the other soldiers to your seat. Every man for himself, right? Get off scot-free, have a normal trip back to base with plenty of legroom so that you’re not cramped. Theoretically, it would've been beautiful – a passenger's paradise, the closest you could get to a first-class ticket.

But no.

Instead, play the Good Samaritan; extend your hand out with an act of benevolence. What’s the harm, right? So, you'd spared the poor guy, said you wouldn't mind switching places with him because he'd looked as white as a damn sheet at the idea of being crammed beside this behemoth of a lieutenant who's infamously every FNG's living nightmare.

Yeah, well hindsight is 20/20. Had you known what was going to happen, you would've had no reservations about throwing him under the bus. Sayonara, mate.

Law of the jungle, plain and simple.

To make matters worse, he is, in fact, exhibiting terrible flight etiquette. His head (which is dead weight and feels about as pleasant as a fucking bowling ball, mind you) has taken up every inch of real estate on your shoulder and is practically tucked into the curve of your neck; you’ll need to take a trip to the chiropractor’s after this – several, probably. The edge of his skull mask is digging into you. And, the cherry on top: get this – he’s man-spreading, so his left leg's trespassing into your own territory and brushing against your thigh. Utter lack of regard for personal space.

Incredible.

You’d still rather die than wake him up, though. You're not sure what'll happen if you do, but that's a risk you're not willing to take.

All things considered, an achy shoulder is a much better alternative than incurring the wrath of one angry Lieutenant. He's more subdued in this kind of context. To be completely honest, if you weren't already well-acquainted with him, you'd find it endearing.

From here, it's easy to see the simple rise and fall of his chest, steady and even. Slow inhale in, slow exhale out. He's at peace, a rhythmic lull that matches your own breathing. You can't quite put your finger on the exact moment he fell asleep. (He's got a habit of shutting his eyes and folding his arms over his chest when he isn't in the mood to converse with the other soldiers onboard. But God willing, he would never voluntarily loll his head onto your shoulder.) For what it's worth, he deserves the rest – never been one to do it this soundly as countless missions have taught you that he's usually a light sleeper. You remember him roughly prodding the toe of his boot at Soap's arm once when the Scot was conked out and his snores were a bit loud for Ghost's taste.

Rather odd then, that the Lieutenant even managed to allow himself to doze off like this. It’s too loud, too unsteady – the droning of the plane engine doesn't exactly make for good white noise and the turbulence outside is jostling the cabin around. Moreover, this puts him in a position of vulnerability, and he’s not the type to let his guard down so easily.

But somehow he did it with you beside him.

You try not to think about the implications of that.

𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄.

Because, Soap's just woken up from his nap, the first among the entire company of soldiers in the cabin still sleeping, excluding yourself. His seat's parallel to yours, straight across the walkway within direct line of sight, so he’s got an unobstructed view of you and Ghost. Soap sends a questioning glance in your direction, eyebrow quirked. A look that says, The hell's going on?

The level of your voice is down; it's at a conservative decibel to avoid rousing the others. Yet you convey your distress with the same amount of passion as if you were stuck in the middle of a losing firefight. "MacTavish, help."

Soap works with bombs for a living. Surely, he's capable of defusing situations too.

Alright the man’s a demolitions expert, but that’s semantics.

He blinks like he's trying to make sense of the situation. Though, it's pretty obvious what the problem is here. You're not sure why he’s got to take a moment and contemplate it. You need a solution, now. And he's moving at a snail's pace.

For a second, you think he might sympathize with your plight.

But then his mouth morphs into a shit-eating grin and when he nudges Gaz awake, you know right then and there that you're absolutely fucked.

More witnesses.

Great.

Because that’s just what you need, isn’t it?

Gaz drags a hand down his face. He pans over to his right to figure out why he’s been jolted awake so suddenly, and sees Soap who’s inexplicably, nauseatingly jovial before his eyes land on you.

Much like Soap’s original reaction, Gaz can’t help but offer a quizzical expression. The confusion is evident. His brows are drawn together because he knows that the L.t. wouldn't fall asleep on your shoulder.

Soap's shifting, sliding his hand into his pocket before pulling out his phone. He messes with it – a few taps here, a few swipes there. And then before you're registering what's happening, he's aiming it straight at you, like one of those mums getting a snapshot of their kids in matching jumpers during the holidays.

"Say cheese."

An indignant gasp leaves your mouth. "If you so much as—

"Soap, no. Don't do that." Gaz says from beside him, plucking the phone out of his hands. He tsks him with a click of his tongue. Stern disapproval in spades. The meaning is clear: it’s a big thumbs down from the Brit. He’s not endorsing this type of behavior. “Gone mad now, have you?” he asks in admonishment.

You release a sigh of relief. Finally, some moral support. He's reliable. Your faith in him is unshakable. Always could count on Gaz to get you out of—

"Have to shoot with a wide angle, see? Or else it'll look wonky," he corrects, flipping the phone horizontally before handing it back to Soap.

"Aye, thanks mate.”

Gaz's smile isn't as excessive as Soap's but the smirk gracing his face tells you he's relishing in your misery all the same.

Fucking traitor.

"Knobheads—"

They’d risk their own hides to save you from certain death. You've seen it in Cairo, Valencia, and Seoul. Good men. Good hearts in the right place as well. However, they're also the type to embarrass you at every opportunity – public humiliation being somewhere on that roster as well. And for that, you want to strangle them.

"Rude,” Soap comments pointedly.

"Bite me, MacTavish."

"Just wake him up if it's bothering you," Gaz supplies unhelpfully.

"If you were in my shoes, would you do it?"

"'Course, not," he snorts. "I don’t have a death wish.”

“Well, I also prefer my head on my shoulders, thank you very much," you whisper furiously, nearly hissing at him.

And Soap is admiring his handiwork, when he coos, “Aw, the two o' you make quite the pair." He briefly twists the screen so that you can catch a glimpse of it, and even from this distance, you can confirm that he's captured the shot. Annoyingly well, to add insult to injury. Angle? Spot-on. Lighting? Brilliant. It's interesting, has character. Black and white photography. He's managed to make a stunning composition and your upper lip is curling up into a sneer of disgust at his artistic eye. How infuriating.

"I'll send this to the Cap. He’ll get a kick outta it."

"Sod off."

"He'll appreciate bein' included."

Gaz matches the energy with an equally gleeful smile, now delighted by the idea. “Hey, and the L.t. he looks—”

“—cute," Soap has the audacity to finish for him.

What.

There are many words that you’d use to describe Ghost.

Cutthroat, maybe. Imposing. Glacial. Taciturn. A stringent set of ideals that makes him the perfect soldier: disciplined, honed, fierce. Intimidating, if he's not fighting on your side – someone you'd much rather have on your team than against, unless you fancied death. He can be a stone-cold terror on occasion. The man’s been penned as a walking horror story by those in the military. Given his iron-hearted demeanor, you'd be hard-pressed to disagree with that statement; there's not much room to call his steel-encased resolve into question.

So, yeah. Above all else, he's certainly not cute.

Your eyes narrow at them. "Congratulations, the both of you have officially made the top of my shitlist."

Soap, indifferent to your crisis, asks, "Want a copy for your wallpaper?"

There's another heated remark waiting on the tip of your tongue, because there's no way in hell that you would and you're ready to tell him off, about to give him an earful.

But somebody else beats you to it.

“Wipe that picture, or I’ll wring your bloody necks.”

Ice surges through your veins. Goosebumps break out across your skin. Because that voice belongs to one person. Oh, Christ. Never in a million years would you want to be on the receiving end of it.

There's anxiety warping in your chest. You're scared stiff, paralyzed with fear in a way that implores you to remain stock-still. The coarse fabric of your trousers bunches underneath your palms as you try not to freak out. This isn't your fault. None of it is.

And here's the worst part: Ghost hasn't lifted his head from your shoulder yet.

But Soap's unfazed. He blinks a couple of times, seems like he's weighing his options – as if there's something else he could choose besides following his lieutenant's command – yeah, right. He wises up, settling for a simple answer in the end. "Alright, Ghost." His smile makes a reappearance, sweet and well-meaning. Troublemaker. "Any chance you'd like a copy before I do away with it?"

"What kind of fuckin' question is that, Johnny?" he grumbles. "Obviously."

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄:

"I take it you don't think I'm cute then. Have I got that right?"

"I'm sorry... mind repeating that again, sir?"

"You didn't have anything to say about Soap's comment."

"I have a feeling that whatever I answer will get my arse handed to me, L.t."

He's smiling in response – like sunshine trapped behind clouds. Despite it being obscured by the mask, you can see his eyes crinkling at the corners, which makes the black charcoal that's lining them begin to crease a bit. "Permission to speak freely, Sergeant. You have the floor."

Your mouth parts in surprise. Well, then. Maybe you stand corrected. And so, you appraise him momentarily, giving it some serious thought. There's more to Ghost than you give him credit for. He's terse and rough around the edges, but respected for a reason. Admirable. Someone you think highly of and has deserved your approval. The mask undeniably provides an air of intrigue. “I suppose you can be,” you start off, gradually warming up to him being more approachable. “When you’re not terrorizing the new recruits, that is.”

[adieutristana]

general relationship headcanons | arcane women x fem! reader

summary: general headcanons for dating arcane characters.

characters included: jinx, vi, mel, sevika, maddie.

tags/warnings: fluff, mentions of poor mental health, smoking, drinking, mentions of war and death, minor season 2 spoilers. slightly suggestive? lots of fluff.

jinx;

✧.* you are without a doubt jinx's first partner. she has never really seen herself in a relationship, never thought that was in the cards for her. until you came along, of course.

✧.* it takes jinx a while to process the fact that you're in a relationship. that you want to be with her, and you enjoy her companionship. she's so used to being perceived as bad luck to everyone, and those close to her dying. so when it finally does set in that you truly do like her, she'll do everything in her power to show her love to you. part of her will always think you're too good for her, though.

✧.* jinx is a very devoted lover. she lives and breathes for you, she worships the ground you walk on. she's constantly checking in on you, touching you somehow, or talking your ear off simply because she enjoys your company.

✧.* however, jinx is also a very jealous lover and can get possessive. she doesn't necessarily mean to be that way, but it's her head telling her that you'll find someone better. that you're too good for her, and some other pretty girl will come sweep you off your feet. it'll take jinx a while to get used to your friends and not think that they're trying to plot how to steal you from her.

✧.* with this, jinx is fiercely protective over you. if you're out together and get hit on, or you rant to her about somebody who's been bothering you, she'll have it 'taken care of' within a matter of hours. she won't tell you what that means, but you won't see or hear from the person again.

✧.* jinx wants to involve you in her world! that's one of her biggest ways of showing her love to you. she'll pull up an extra chair so you can watch her or help her with her newest contraptions. she'll invite you to tag walls across zaun with her. she'll tell you about all of her battle plans, giggling all the way. as if she's not discussing something that could cost her her life.

✧.* overall, jinx is rather unconventional in a relationship (and in general) and shows affection through her own unique little ways.

✧.* "i wish i could crawl inside you and be with you forever.. that'd be nice. huh? why are ya looking at me like that?"

✧.* jinx is very touch-starved. although she is very resistant to physical touch at first, she quickly comes to love it. it's reassuring for her, being able to touch her partner. feel them. they're real, and they're not going anywhere.

✧.* jinx's favorite forms of physical affection are kissing, holding hands, and cuddling. there'll be times where you're in the middle of talking to her (usually about something important) and she'll stop you mid-sentence with a cheeky kiss.

✧.* "what? your lips are right there." she giggles.

✧.* when it comes to cuddling, jinx enjoys spooning, and laying her head on your chest. being able to hear your heartbeat is relaxing to her. although jinx is a small woman, she almost always insists on being the big spoon. she doesn't care if you're a head shorter than her or a full foot taller, she just wants to be able to hold you close.

✧.* jinx is incredibly playful. she'll play pranks on you, like coming up behind you to tickle your sides, or sneak glitter bombs into your bags when you're leaving her base. she loves to see your reactions, and she loves to keep you on your toes.

✧.* she loves to make little gifts for you. if you mention needing a new speaker, she's got you covered. the next day, she presents you with a small speaker, decorated in jinx's typical colorful grafitti. she'll make music boxes that play off-key versions of your favorite songs, and she'll doodle on basically everything you have. it's a way to show that she cares, and seeing your reactions make all of the work worth it.

✧.* jinx loves pda. she gets to both show off her wonderful girlfriend, and remind everyone that you belong to her. two birds with one stone.

✧.* you're one of the only people that jinx lets braid her hair. they say that hair holds memories, and for jinx, that is absolutely true. her hair is incredibly important to her, so you knew she trusted you when she let you braid it for the first time. she lets out a gentle sigh as she feels your nimble fingers working softly through her hair, and you can see her body fully relax. she's still and at peace for a few moments.

✧.* jinx is not good with words. at all. communication is one of her weakest traits, so you'll have to be patient with her. if she's upset, she'll usually just hold it in. she'll take off randomly, or end up holding it in until it bubbles over (and then she apologizes profusely). this gets better with time, but for a while, jinx doesn't know how to express her emotions or concerns in a healthy way.

✧.* jinx needs constant reassurance. as mentioned, she has a difficult time regulating her emotions. she's constantly overthinking, having nightmares, and hallucinating. those all decrease significantly while she's with you, but they never fully go away.

✧.* "you're not gonna take off in the middle of the night and find someone else, are you?" jinx asks, her pink eyes full of worry.

✧.* "no, love. i'm here to stay. i promise." you reassure her, pressing your forehead to hers gently.

✧.* jinx loves pet names. being called them, and calling you them. her favorites are 'toots,' 'trinket,' 'baby,' 'doll,' and 'beautiful.'

✧.* calling her anything with 'my' in front of it causes her to positively melt. 'my dearest,' 'my love,' 'my girl,' the whole nine yards. yes, remind her that she's yours.

vi;

✧.* vi is a generally rather inexperienced lover. while she's had the odd fling and situationship, you're likely one of her first actual girlfriends.

✧.* with this comes her being unsure about how to navigate a romantic relationship at first, but she quickly gets the hang of it. vi is a natural.

✧.* despite her tough exterior, vi is a lover girl at heart, and she's ecstatic that she finally gets someone to share that love with. someone as incredible and perfect as you.

✧.* tease, tease, tease. she'll constantly have you on edge, your eyes wide and cheeks heating up. whether that be by peppering light kisses on your neck while you're trying to work, or whispering into your ear something along the lines of, "you're so beautiful, darling. tell, just how do you do it?"

✧.* she's also very playful and competitive. vi is likely to challenge you to a playful sparring match, and she gets very into board games. girlfriend or not, she'll show no mercy.

✧.* vi reserves most of her affection for private moments. the farthest she'll go in front of other people is likely just holding your hand. she believes that the way she holds you, the way she whispers sweet nothings against your lips is nobody else's business.

✧.* that's not to say she won't brag about her beautiful, amazing, talented, smart, perfect girlfriend to anyone who will listen, though.

✧.* vi has a lot of walls up, and guards her emotions. although she'll likely open up to you eventually about her worries and past, it'll be very gradual, in small amounts. she isn't used to being vulnerable, especially not feeling safe to be vulnerable.

✧.* despite this, she does communicate well and values honesty and trust. she believes in cutting problems at the source. if something is bothering you, tell her. if you need something from her, tell her.

✧.* vi is very strong, and won't hesitate to lift you up while giggling. she'll lift you to sit you right back down on a countertop, snaking her arms around your waist to begin pressing soft kisses to your lips.

✧.* vi doesn't hesitate to let you know how important you are to her, to reassure you that she loves you more than anything.

✧.* "y'know, i spent all day thinking about you. waiting for when i could see your pretty face again. you have no idea how much you mean to me..."

✧.* it may come as a surprise, but vi is very much a morning person. she generally prefers to wake up by 6am, getting an early start to her day and brewing coffee as she watches the sunrise. it's a little bit of quiet time before all the chaos that comes with the day. it's not rare for you to wake up without vi, but if you walk into the kitchen and sit down beside her, she'll wordlessly lay her head on your shoulder.

✧.* vi constantly returns home bruised and sore. she'll be eternally grateful if you bandage her, and if you gently kiss her wounds after patching them up, she may just melt on the spot.

✧.* although, or because she's constantly injured, vi has a very high pain tolerance. she'll often undermine just how much discomfort she's in because she's just so used to it. muscle tension, cuts, scrapes. part of this is also vi not wanting to worry you.

✧.* vi loves acts of service. if you mention that you're overwhelmed by the amount of cleaning you have to do, you don't even have time to say anything before she's doing it for you. she'll try to cook for you, although she's far from great at it. the point is that she cares.

✧.* however, she doesn't really like receiving acts of service. part of her feels bad, and she feels like she owes you in return.

✧.* vi does tend to come home drunk from time to time, and the frequency increases when she's having a particularly tough time mentally. although it's not healthy, it's a temporary relief. she'll never get wasted, but you may have to help her sober up fairly often.

✧.* vi also adores pet names. her favorites are 'baby,' 'gorgeous,' and of course, 'cupcake.'

✧.* sorry, but i think you'd need to remind her to wash up. vi is pretty much always covered in some kind of sweat or grime, and genuinely just forgets to take a shower after a long day sometimes. she's tired.

✧.* it's no surprise that vi can get rough. her hands tangle in your hair, she squeezes your hips while kissing you, her lips slamming into yours as if her life depends on this moment right now.

✧.* "god, baby. you don't know how much i needed this."

mel;

✧.* mel is pretty experienced, but none of her past relationships have really lasted. mel is a woman who knows what she deserves and knows what she wants, and none of her previous suitors have fit the bill quite right. you find it hard to rationalize how you have.

✧.* if you're with mel, be prepared to fully commit to her. mel sees casual dating as a waste of time and energy, and wants nothing but complete devotion. she dates to marry.

✧.* as gentle as she is, she'll remind you of that often. don't waste her time, don't waste her energy, don't take her companionship for granted.

✧.* mel is a busy woman. as much as she wishes things could be different, she has a job to do and a city to stay loyal to. there may be days-long, or even weeks-long periods of you not being able to see each other.

✧.* however, she'll still find ways to show her love and devotion to you when you're not physically together. it's not uncommon for you to get deliveries of extravagant, expensive bouquets to your workplace and/or home. complete with a note that reads something along the lines of, "i miss you most ardently, dearest. don't forget me, i'll be with you soon."

✧.* mel spoils you to absolutely no end. she's the richest woman in all of piltover, why wouldn't she? if your eyes even linger on something at a shop for a few seconds, or you mention needing something in passing, it's immediately yours. no ifs, ands, or buts.

✧.* mel has zero problems communicating how she feels with you, and expects the same from you. unfortunately, if you're unable to express yourself through words like she is, she becomes a bit upset. reassure her that you're trying, and she'll have patience.

✧.* naturally, she also has no problems having uncomfortable conversations with you. that's a major part of her job, after all: having uncomfortable conversations. usually it's something about an unfavorable decision the council had to make, or something weighing heavy on her mind about your relationship. mel wants to talk it over and be done with it.

✧.* mel loves nighttime. it's probably the only time she gets to herself, so she'll cuddle up to you in bed, pressing soft kisses to your temples and whispering her adoration. "you're so, so beautiful. so perfect. so lovely. everything that i need."

✧.* mel smells heavenly. she has an extensive skincare and hair care routine that she stays on top of. think warm vanilla and honey.

✧.* mel is also, in general, very calm and soft-spoken. it takes a lot to get her worked up enough to raise her voice or lose her composure outside of council meetings.

✧.* mel loves kissing. kissing, kissing, kissing. kissing your knuckles when she hasn't seen you in a few days. her lips capturing yours almost desperately while one hand cradles the back of your head, the other placed on your waist. kissing your neck lazily in the mornings while you're both still half-asleep.

✧.* naturally, with her position comes a great amount of power. you have mel's protection from anything or anyone that could put you in harm's way.

✧.* easily one of the most supportive partners you can ever have. she'll let you ramble on and on about your interests, support your newest ventures, and financially support you when possible. ultimately, mel just wants to see you happy. she honestly thinks there isn't a thing you can't do.

✧.* she tries not to let it show, but mel does get jealous. very, very jealous. you're hers, what are you doing going around piltover with unsavory characters? she'll clench her fists by her side, trying not to let her envy show on her face.

✧.* "darling. i thought i told you not to be in these parts of the city." she says, her expression completely stern.

✧.* mel values knowledge. she's constantly trying to learn new things, partly to feel enriched, and partly for her job. it's not uncommon for her to curl up in your lap with a recently-published book about current happenings, or ancient history that could assist her decision-making.

✧.* mel writes you letters very often. expect at least 6-page long letters, on paper lined in gold leaf with the neatest penmanship you've seen in your lifetime. she pours out her heart to you in each letter, telling you her deepest joys and fears both. she signs each letter with a kiss, her lipstick lingering on the bottom of the page.

✧.* mel absolutely refuses to engange in any kind of pda. not only does she find it unbecoming of a woman in her position, but she becomes flustered quickly. it's adorable, honestly.

✧.* however, whenever the two of you are alone, she's entirely yours. body and soul.

sevika;

✧.* sevika is very experienced, to the surprise of absolutely nobody. she's a regular at local brothels, and knows her way around relationships. she preferred to only ever have casual relationships, or so she thought.

✧.* once she's yours, she's yours. sevika completely stops going to brothels and entertaining other women. she is fiercely loyal to you, her devotion never wavering.

✧.* sevika is incredibly touchy. she always has to be touching you somehow. whether that be a hand firmly gripping your waist, her chin resting on your shoulder, or her thigh touching yours. it brings her a sense of security.

✧.* sevika is very strong and heavy-handed. there's no chance of her not accidentally leaving bruises on you by just grasping your arm, or pulling you in for a hug after a particularly dangerous mission. she apologizes profusely, swearing she didn't mean to hurt you, no matter how much you tell her it's okay.

✧.* she does learn to be more gentle over time, she's just not used to handling someone in an affectionate way. battle has toughened her.

✧.* she won't dare admit it, but you bring out the softie in her. she'll grumble as you lay your head in her lap, reaching up to interlace your fingers with hers. don't mention the way her heartbeat audibly quickens, she'll deny it until she can't anymore.

✧.* "i am not flustered. cut that out." "oh, but you're so cute like this!"

✧.* sevika loves pet names and nicknames as well, but also won't dare admit that. she particularly loves it when you call her 'sev.'

✧.* in return, she'll call you 'my pretty girl,' 'darlin', 'hun,' and 'babe.' the classics, nothing too fancy.

✧.* sevika doesn't have a lot of energy these days, as she gets older and battle takes more and more out of her. so those tranquil moments where she simply gets to lay with you, kissing the corner of your lips and whispering praises to you are some of her favorite. give this poor woman a break, please.

✧.* it takes sevika forever to open up to you. it already took her ages to admit that she had romantic feelings for you, so don't expect her to easily voice her feelings or worries.

✧.* even when you can tell something is wrong, she'll almost always brush it off. "don't worry 'bout it, babe. i'll be fine."

✧.* until she's not, and all she wants is for you to hold her. she'll simply slot herself in your arms and rest her head on your shoulder, embracing you in comfortable silence. yes, that's enough for now.

✧.* while she's not really one for pda, sevika will absolutely show you off to anyone and everyone, regardless of whether they want to pay attention. she totes you around like you're a prize- her pretty girl, who everyone can look at, but only she can have.

✧.* sevika doesn't really get jealous. she trusts you, and she trusts that you know exactly who you belong to. she doesn't mind you hanging out with your friends or even exes for prolonged periods of time, you know where home is.

✧.* she is very possessive, though. she trusts that you'll stay in line, but god help you if you ever let a hug with a friend linger for too long.

✧.* once sevika does open up to you, it's like an entirely different woman. she's telling you how grateful she is for you, how she never imagined she'd know a love like this.

✧.* "i never thought i'd... deserve something like this, you know? but you get me. you see me."

✧.* you're probably the one who cut her hair. she just decided she was tired of it, and came up to you with a pair of haircutting scissors, not saying anything. you were a bit hesitant, unsure if this was an impulsive decision or what she really wanted. but you were happy to help.

✧.* sevika loves to just... admire you. you're so beautiful, she can't help it. but tell her she's beautiful, too. she hasn't heard it nearly enough in her life.

✧.* she often comes home smelling of smoke, but as time (s2) goes on, that stops. she decided her health was more important, even if she couldn't undo the damage of years of smoking. you helped her come to this decision, although unconsciously.

maddie;

✧.* maddie has only really had flings and friends-with-benefits situations in the past. you're her first actual girlfriend, but she's determined to be the best girlfriend you could possibly ask for.

✧.* maddie looks like a total sweetheart. and she is, to an extent, but looks can be deceiving.

✧.* maddie is nothing if not a tease. she'll blow cold air on the back of your neck just to hear you yelp, she'll stop short just before kissing you to tell you something completely stupid and unrelated. she loves seeing your reactions, she thinks they're adorable.

✧.* "and then commander said that i needed to adjust my posture, it was unfit for an officer. i mean, can you believe- oh, you wanted a kiss? sorry, i didn't realize!"

✧.* maddie is very protective, and very confrontational. especially when it comes to you. if someone is making you uncomfortable, she'll get right in their face and tell them off then and there, her usual peppy voice dropping an octave.

✧.* maddie is pretty good at expressing her feelings and communicating, but doesn't really make it a point to do so. it comes up when it comes up. she mentions how she's feeling in passing.

✧.* overall, she's pretty unpredictable. she likes to keep you guessing when it comes to your relationship.

✧.* of course, maddie's loyalty is unmatched. she knows a thing or two about devotion as a junior officer, but when it comes to her dearest girl, she'll genuinely lay her life down before she ever thinks of leaving you.

✧.* maddie is a busy woman, but will make time for you, no matter what. even if that means showing up at your door disheveled and tired right before midnight, not seeming to care about how tired you look.

✧.* quality time is incredibly important to maddie. time is money for her, as is for piltover, and she intends to give you the most time she can. she'll often drag you along on walks along the city, talking your ear off about whatever adventures she was up to in the hours previous.

✧.* i'm not sure why, but i think that maddie would really enjoy reading. she'd curl up next to you, your arm draped around her as she softly reads aloud from the novel in her hand. it's peaceful, the way her voice is so quiet and she yawns every few sentences.

✧.* maddie cuts her own hair, undoubtedly. with dull scissors. she employs your help, though, in making sure that it's all even and looks presentable.

✧.* "come on, i don't need anything else. these scissors work fine, y'see?"

✧.* probably one of the most chaotic sleepers. she hogs the blankets, elbows you in her sleep, and snores, loud. she'll apologize while giggling in the morning, but something tells you she's not actually that sorry. it just adds to her charm.

✧.* she does love to hold you, though. she'll tuck your head into the crook of her neck, one hand through your hair and the other on the small of your back. no words uttered, no words needed.

✧.* loves pda. she won't miss a chance to show off her beloved, and cover her pretty face in kisses in front of all of piltover if she gets the chance. you're hers, aren't you? that's something to be proud of!

✧.* maddie knows piltover like the back of her hand. she often takes you to her favorite spots, 'hidden gems,' as she calls them. she'll tell you all about the history of the specific place, all while holding your hand and clinging tightly to you.

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

calling skz clingy headcanons ◦ ot8

Paring◦ ot8 x reader

Words◦ 3,578

Genre ◦ hurt and comfort

Warnings ◦ reader blows up at the boys a few times, mild cussing I think, hyunjin is lowkey toxic in this but the reader is more toxic, honestly all of our boys are pretty dramatic lmao, they keep getting lazier and lazier😭, I fucking hate y/n in this like fr I'm gonna kick her sorry little ass, seungmins is... suggestive...dirty talk and fingering only for like one line, so is hans lmao all happy endings because I am not sadistic... or realistic

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222, @ur-fav-lvr

A/N ◦ honestly this is my super random chaotic thoughts I had at 2am bc I was really hating the way I was writing a love lived between the stars and the sea so I wanted to take a small break and clear my pallet I hope you all like it even though it lowkey sucks lmao <33

Also im lowkey fucking with making headcannons this is kinda fun...

~cookiecreates 🍪

chan

I feel like Chan would be the most emotionally mature about the whole thing, especially when he sees the storm brewing in your eyes before you even spit those venomous words.

"Fuck Chris, do you have to be so clingy all the time?" You shout, your mouth curling in a disgusted sneer. 

You've never flinched away from him like that, never been so mean-

He's first hurt then he sees it-

There are cracks in your demeanor; large gashes in your heart; he could read you like an open book; the stories your soul wished to tell resided in your glassy eyes.

Hurt people hurt people.

You didn't think he was clingy; no, you loved his touch. You were simply overwhelmed, overflowing with so many simmering feelings—his love did not have room to shimmy through.

So he makes room-

He tilts your chin up with a sincere voice and asks, "What's the real reason why you are shutting me out?"

The unadulterated dedication in his words leaves you in shambles. 

Chan would tear open his heart before your eyes just to prove that there are openings for your soul to pour all your pain into him.

and he would still find a way not to spill a drop

"It’s so hard,” you sob. “They told me you were too good for me, that I wasn’t enough. They said I should shut you out, run away before I got too attached. I had to make you hate me so that I could never weigh you down again."

Chan is fuming.

He wants to ask who said that? He wants to ask where they live? He wants to ask if you want to witness their destruction? He wants to ask if he should use a knife or a gun?

But instead, he says, ‘Darling, you would have more luck breaking the bounds of the moon than untangling the way you are threaded into my soul."

what. the. fuck.

Chan the next William Shakespeare up in here

...was this based on something I wrote for my new series...yes. am I ashamed... no.

I'm a hopeless romantic who wants to marry a poet.

Sue me.

You never thought the apocalypse would be so rewarding, because you are reeling, spinning out of orbit, a meteor spit out into space, hurling towards unknown destruction—destruction that tasted like fresh morning dew.

Chan was perfect.

what the fuck were you thinking?

He holds you through the night, chasing away the whistling of the cold winter wind, his warm arms creating a home around your heart.

lee know

do not ever ever ever ever ever ever ever call Lee Know clingy unless you are willing to dedicate your life into creating the next wheel of time because after you plant the seed in his head, he will blossom a garden of newfound insecurities.

"Can you please not be so clingy right now? I'm having a really bad headache," you whisper through the thick fog clouding your brain; you have been living with a red hot rod skewed through the back of your brain all day. You didn't mean to say the word clingy, but it is futile to search a thesaurus from a blurry page, and right now the world seems to be nothing more than a piece of abstract art.

He just wanted to hold you and you call him clingy??

To others, the sentence would be like water rolling off their backs, but to him, it was a ragged shard of glass stabbed straight into his chest.

Lee Know is extremely inexperienced in the world of intimacy, often clumsy with his actions—hesitant with his words, so why would you say such a thing?

Knowing how insecure he is??

You would only ever say it if you meant it fully and completely??

Honestly, in his head, he would be lowkey, really dramatic, but he's so beyond hurt, feeling like you're just picking at a gaping wound.

like I said, dramatic.

justified. yes.

dramatic... also yes.

I am a firm believer that his tough-guy act is only that.

an act.

He was pretending like he didn't care what you said, but when he gets into the other room, it takes everything in him not to shatter into a million different pieces, feeling so overwhelmed with how many emotions are coursing through him.

No matter how much you apologize after that, no matter how much you prove what you said was nothing more than your head foggy and in pain, it still will take lifetimes for that scar to fade.

and he will only ever get over it with a million reassurances and a thousand conversations

which you are willing to do as long as he needs it

changbin

Honestly, I dont really have a clue with this one, but I am definitely leaning towards him being more like Chan in the emotional mature way he handles it, but instead of comforting you at the drop of a hat, he just leaves the room and lets you stew on your sorrows.

"Your so clingy," you groan, shoving his arm off; rolling your eyes as the mattress shifts with his weight. You just want to be left alone. You weren't sad. You weren't mad. You were just tired and did not want to be touched.

In perspective, could you have handled it better? Yes, but what can you do now? I'm going to punch this bitch in the face I swear I hate y/n and I'm creating her

He's first very confused, then the hurt hits like a falling star crashing into his chest.

What do you mean he's clingy??

"Fine," he states, still dizzy from the utter whiplash you were giving him.

like what the hell?

Sleeps on the couch that night (bad idea don't do this)

He stews about it far past the dreams in his head

That is, until you trudge out of your bed in the morning with red-rimmed eyes and a face filled with regret.

After a shitty nights sleep without the heat of your boyfriend's arms, you realized very quickly what it would feel like if you were to never feel it again, and all of a sudden, you never want to be left alone like ever again.

The grudge he was previously trying to hold drained out of him, and in that instance, he jumps up, pulling you into his arms.

He is very quick to forgive you, when you voice your reason for snapping at him, was nothing but compressed frustrations manifested into the wrong source.

hyunjin

hyunjin. hyunjin. hyunjin.

I feel like in a fit of both hurt and the toxic trait of self-isolation, he would be petty and stay at the boy's house for a few days.

He had tried to give you a good morning kiss that day, but you were stressed and late for work, rushing to put on your clothes. The way he whined about wanting to be touched ground your gears beyond belief. You got stuck in your shirt, which was too tight after you shrunk it in the dryer, and your firm has yet to give you another one. Hyunjin's flighty hands wrapped around your waist, trying to help you untangle yourself from the mess of fabric, only for the button to get caught in your hair, pain ripping through your scalp.

"Stop it hyunjin!" you shout, attempting to unthread the way your hair has meshed into the slits of the button. "You're so fuckin' clingy."

It was all a mess—your heap of shifting fabric and jerking limbs, hair sticking up at every angle. His heart was crushed somewhere in a pulp on the floor in front of him.

He just wanted to help...

Your red-hot anger quickly bled into a tightening anxiety that pulled underneath your ribs as you imagined the look on your boss's face when you came in disheveled and late.

"I just wanted to help," Hyunjin sniffles, bouncing his eyes around the room, filling with tears. You heartlessly roll your eyes.

"Here come the waterworks," your voice is steady, flaming with annoyance mixed with a sickening tilt of mockery. His jaw drops.

you're being so mean

His ears burn when you glare at him, disgusted by the tears streaming down his cheeks. He desperately wipes his emotions away with the back of his hand, suddenly embarrassed to even be showing you the cracks in his soul.

He runs away, like, quite literally runs out the door, sprinting to his car and driving straight to the group's house, collapsing in a fit of sobs in Chan's arms.

He stays there for a good 3 days, ignoring all your calls and texts.

No matter how much it hurts his heart not to talk to you, he shuts you out in a weak attempt to show you what it would be like to live without him.

But this tactic is short-lived when you arrive at the boys' house, snot sobbing into his chest.

"i-im so sorry," you repeat over and over and over into his skin, hoping the further you dig into his chest, the closer the words will hit his heart. 

He's not going to lie; no matter how much you cry, a little bit of pettiness will still stay during the conversation, a small scar of his hurt dictating his choices.

"Why didn't you come home? I thought we were over?"

"I thought that asking to sleep in the same bed as you would be too clingy"

Your heart cracks. He sees it, immediately regretting all his words.

"I'm sorry!" he yelps, pulling your head straight into his chest again.

You shake your head remorsefully, "No, I deserved that."

Even though so much of him still wants to be petty, his love for you trumps the feeling.

(I'm not forgiving you though wtf)

han (this one is long asf)

Han is freaking out.

I mean like the devil's bony hand gripping at the base of his spine, stale breath wafting down the skin of his neck type of freaking the fuck out.

You had a job that required you to go on-site, on-call often, like Han’s—that’s why you were so understanding about his busy schedule; yours was just as bad.

Today was a nightmare. Your coworker, the devil in disguise, didn't show up for the presentation she had created, and since she threw you under the bus saying you helped her (you didn't), you were forced to come in and present it.

Leaving Han at the restaurant waiting for you to arrive-

You forgot-

It was debatably the biggest presentation of the year, showing off her new design to multiple new investors, and yet your phone kept buzzing.

You told Han this was important

You never sent the message

You don't think you have ever seen your boss so furious

From Han's point of view, he's been sitting here for 2 hours, and you are still not here.

There are so many scenarios flying around in his head—

Are you okay?

Did you stand him up?

Are you breaking up with him?

Did you get kidnapped??

Han got tunnel vision when he was scared, his restless brain shooting out dire scenarios faster than he could decipher the impossibility of them. It was overwhelming. The walls were closing in on him. Nowhere in the world was safe. His head was swimming, the room was spinning, the earth was popping through space.

He keeps texting and calling and voice mailing. The icy anxiety crystallizing in the pit of his core turns his fingers brittle, creaking as he jams them into his phone screen.

He can't breathe.

Too many possibilities.

Untill-

Your boss got fed up with your phone ringing, screaming at you to go answer it since it was clearly more important than your job.

he was a prick

You answer it, the heat of your building anger curdling a deadly brew inside your soul. Without looking at the 200+ messages Han had sent you, you answer the 50th call of the day, immediately hissing into the speaker, "Do you know what you just did, Han? I got yelled at by my boss in the middle of a presentation because your clingy ass can’t exist without constantly needing my attention for more than 5 minutes. Stop texting me." Your finger smashes the end call button before unruffling your skirt and walking right back into the room.

Han feels like he might just melt straight into the seats, the way his whole body burns.

The whole world stops for a moment, the earth bleeding down the walls, swirling into pools of muddy color. He was sinking, lungs filling with the ink of a million different sweltering elements.

He ruins everything.

He was so wholly overwhelmed he could barely crawl into his car, desperately gripping the steering wheel while the earth collapsed in on him.

He ruins everything.

It's almost impossible to get to his house the way his tears blur the road.

(that's actually fr dangerous don't drive while crying)

He ruins everything.

He doesn't cry when you walk through the door.

He doesn't touch you when you run to him, standing over him, huddled on the floor.

He doesn't breathe as you cry over his body, twinkling in and out of consciousness.

He ruins everything.

Your makeup runs down your cheeks as you try to shake him awake.

He fainted in the kitchen. It wasn't uncommon when he was alone during his panic attacks, the anxiety ripping harsh bouts of oxygen from his lungs.

You squish his cheeks together, forcing his lips into a pout, shoving your faces together, pouring unadulterated passion into his system.

He short c i r c u i t s.

"I'm so sorry," you sob against his lips. "I didn't mean to be so mean. I didn't mean anything I said. I was just stressed, and I thought I sent the message telling you not to text me, and I didn't. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Your voice is high and wet, pushing his mouth deeper into yours.

It would be sceintifically impossible for your lips to get any closer-

and yet his tries.

He pulls your trembling body into his lap, fireworks exploding from the ashes where your words had lain.

"So you don't think I'm clingy?" His voice cracks, fresh tears collecting on the outer corners of his eyes. You have never shaken your head so adamantly in your whole life.

"No, never, never ever."

"Then come here."

You two have never been so close before in your life, hearts tangling in your chests as he presses your body into his.

You were going to prove just how much you loved his touch.

:D

felix

Oh Felix, my kind sweethearted boy that deserves nothing less than prince treatment. He’s so kind, even though he’s so hurt. He’s actually scared he’s annoying you, so he makes himself more distant so he doesn’t bother you.

""Fuck, Felix, can you not see I am clearly just trying to relax? I mean, you don’t always have to be up my ass all the time," you snap, curling back up into the sheets Felix ripped off. You were exhausted—there was no excuse; you were just really tired. Felix, being the loving boyfriend he is, wanted to hold you while you slept, but of course, you being the dumb idiot you are, shouted at him.

are you stupid like fr cause like THE LEE FELIX WANTS TO HOLD YOU AND YOU SHOO HIM AWAY

you deserve federal prison

Felix is so many synonyms for destroyed that it should be physically impossible to still be alive with a heart that lies shattered in the pit of his stomach.

Felix doesnt know how to feel sad, angry, hurt, upest, embarrassed.

He just clenches his jaw, trying to keep his bottom lip from trembling.

Felix has always been secretly self-conscious about the way he expresses his love toward people, often being very touchy-feely. He understands that this isn’t everybody's favorite thing and how it can get fairly annoying.

He’s already so terrified you’re going to leave him; he overanalyzes every interaction.

But this interaction did not need to be analyzed to know what you meant. You were very direct about that.

The way your venomous words attached to his stomach, pumping him with poison that swirled his stomach sick.

You don’t apologize when you wake up, not believing you need to justify yourself. He was being clingy, and you had every right to express your opinion about it.

im going to punch this bitch in the face

As surprising as this is, he actually doesn’t cry about it. He doesn’t cry about it because he is so worried that him crying about it would annoy you, so he would rather let his sadness seep into the back of his brain than show you emotions that could potentially turn you off.

Like I said, destructively kind.

He really takes what you said to heart, trying his best not to give you any skinship unless it’s to guide you through a crowded room or pull you away from the bustling activity of the road, holding your hand until you get to your destination.

He actually feels like he can’t function without your touch, but he muscles through it, relishing in the small actions he can get.

He tries to show his love in other little things that aren’t physical touch. It gets to the point where he is so deep in his head he shies away when you try to initiate skinship, terrified he’s going to get back into the habit of the joy of touching you and make himself seem annoying again.

He’s so beyond scared of being a nuisance.

It’s been two weeks with this flighty physical touch, and it all finally starts to click when you notice his smile isn’t nearly as bright anymore and some of the stars in his eyes have faded away.

"I want you to be clingy again, please, please, please. I mean, cling wrap, Kola. If you ever think you’re being too clingy, please hug me a little tighter. I’m an idiot, a complete and utter moron. Really, I should be evaluated on why I am even able to exist in society."

His heart literally bursts so relieved he can finally touch you again.

He gives you the most dopamine-coddling, brain-boggling cuddles known to mankind that night.

Your skin is so close together it feels like there isn’t a part of your body Felix doesn’t occupy.

He has created a home in your heart that no other man will ever stay, where he will rest until the day you fade away.

seungmin

Oh bro is pissed

"You're so clingy," you deadpan as his arms wrap around your waist. You had seen a stupid TikTok prank on your For You page and had the brilliant idea to try it on your boyfriend. But the way his whole body tenses against your skin, muscles rippling underneath your fingertips, you know you are so beyond fucked. "What did you just say to me, baby?"

well you just signed your death certificate

So many ideas brewing in that beautiful head of his-

Like, your ass will be red, your stomach will be painted, your mouth will be filled, and you will be descending into the grave. Like all the rest are lovey-dovey 'I’m sorrys,' no—your sorry will be told on your knees.

He will edge you intill you are teetering on the ledge of oblivion

"You want to cum, baby?" He's so condescending, easily lifting your waist from the sheets, his sticky fingers creating bruises when he pins your legs down to gain more access to ruthlessly abuse your g-spot.

"Yes, Yes, Yes, please," you beg, body trembling on the bed, large qaukes of pleasure rushing through your bones as his mean fingers plunge into your messy cunt.

"But that would be too clingy wouldn't it?"

oh how i want his fingers

(this one is really short bc i hate writing smut but i feel like this would be smutty)

jeongin

I honestly have no clue. I feel like he’d be more confused than anything because, like, me?

clingy?

mf I barely touch you?

Honestly, kind of annoyed more than sad—like pissed that as soon as he wants to touch you, you think he's clingy. But he's like Chan in the fact that he sees past your words and into the anger brewing in your eyes, allowing both you and him to cool off before he says something he will regret.

He just walks out of the room and lets you calm down.

I am also a firm believer that this man is healthy as hell.

He could tell that his heart was starting to beat a little too hard and his head was getting a little too fuzzy with all the raging words he wanted to say. But instead, he just walks away and lets you calm down, then talks to you about it before you go to bed because he is also an extremely firm believer in the fact that you should NEVER go to bed angry.

this one is shorter bc like I'm lowkey running out of motivation and ideas

did you like this? check out my new series a love lived in between the stars and the sea here

or maybe read doomsday here

[violet-eng]

f!reader reacts to Zhongli (Morax)! "apoptosis" during Rite of Descension | angst + 🔞 NSFW

So... I've always wondered how Zhongli's close friends (let's pretend he has close friends) would react to his death during the Rite of Descension...

╔══════*.·:·.☽✧  ✦  ✧☾.·:·.*════════╗

Summary: Zhongli and you are a couple, and you know he's Rex Lapis. How would you react if your beloved dragon boyfriend dies in front of your eyes during the Rite of Descension? Or worse yet, how would you react if you found out that he is actually alive?

Tw: Angst (a lot), smut, 🔞, MDNI, p i v, nipple sucking, words of hate during sex (i hate you), mentionsof death.

🎨 by: Nid417 2k words.

╚════════*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*═════════╝

The soft caress of Zhongli's fingers on your forehead woke you up in the morning, bringing you back to the earthly realm and wrenching you from the comfortable sleep you had taken as a reward for your performance the night before. Like every night, Zhongli had abused you in bed, using you until he left his empty balls in your belly. 

The light streaming through the window, the rays of sunshine heralding a new day, brighten your face as you realize that Zhongli has gotten out of bed. You watch him get dressed, the shirt covering his arms, golden marks on his dark skin, the marks of your nails on his back, crimson traces open to the passage of your passion.

"Today is going to be a long day," your ardent lover says as he adjusts his tie, "I'm sorry to have to wake you, it's never my intention to cause you any discomfort, but I'm afraid on this occasion it was absolutely necessary."

"The Rite of Descension is today, I had forgotten," you mention, leaning back on your elbows and rubbing your eyes, the locks of hair falling over the valley of your breasts, the sheet covering you sliding down to your waist, giving Zhongli a magnificent view as he adjusts his pants.

"When it's all over, we should have dinner... and then maybe try our luck at starting a family," he says, though it's hard to make out his words because of the volume of his voice. Zhongli speaks with a tinge of nostalgia, a back and forth of dark feelings and a melancholy aura, he has been in this state for several weeks now.

"I guess there's no point in me asking you again what's wrong with you today," you say, embellishing the sentence with a subtle laugh, sometimes your dear Morax is very secretive about his feelings and manages to become hermetic and unshakable as a rock, today is one of those days.

"I promise you that once the Rite culminates, all your questions will be answered," he says, sitting next to you, caressing the curve of your back and tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. One of Zhongli's favorite images is your face when you wake up...especially the morning after a good fuck. There's something about your puffy eyes that drives him crazy, or the scarlet color on your skin from his teeth the night before that makes him lose his mind, whatever it is, he finds you to be the most charming creature he's ever met in his millennia of existence.

"I only ask you," Zhongli says, continuing the conversation, keeping the cryptic tone he had a few moments ago, "I only ask you not to be afraid, no matter what you see, do not be afraid. I will come back to you no matter what happens”

"You always do," you say as you turn around, your face lit up with a smile and your breasts in full view as you reach out a hand that manages to caress his cheek, "that's our contract, darling, you always come back to me."

Zhongli fiercely fights the desire to fuck you at this moment, these words and this image you have given him.... He takes a deep breath before getting up from the bed, ignoring his instincts. There will be time to indulge your carnal desires.

You know the Rite of Descent in detail, you have witnessed it and heard it performed firsthand. This time there is nothing out of the usual, perhaps a new face or two, but nothing out of the ordinary. You find yourself looking forward to what will happen next, and perhaps during the night you will comment to Zhongli how strange it is to see him in his draconic form, and how sweet you find his empathic act of introducing himself to the....

The rumble of the lifeless body of the Lord of Liyue falling echoes through the place. The offerings table is a mess, and the ensuing uproar even more so. There is talk of murder, the Millelith rushes in pursuit of the suspects, and as the rest of the crowd disperses, you lie in place, frozen, stunned by what you have witnessed. You bring your hands to your chest in a reflex to stop the heartbeat that seems to pierce your skin, the sound of the Millelith's footsteps confused with the thumping rhythm of your heart, your lip trembling and your hands sweating, your trembling fingers clutching the fabric of your clothes, trying to bring you back to reality as you watch the body of your beloved Morax lying lifeless before your eyes.

"Tell Wangsheng Funeral Parlor what happened," Keqing orders you... or is it Ningguang's voice? " Y/n! There's no time to waste, go!"

Much to your chagrin, you find yourself running to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, your eyes on the verge of bitter tears and deep weeping, but you cannot afford to do so, not when you cannot explain your reaction to others. You walk down the stairs, wondering: Did Zhongli's recent attitude mean that he suspected that someone wanted to kill him, and if so, why didn't he trust you? The questions cloud your mind, you stumble over some people while debating with yourself, Zhongli knew it, in short, that's why he had such a mysterious attitude lately, he knew he would abandon you? No, you're cursing yourself, you can't think about him like that, especially now that he's... You can't even think of the word, Morax, Rex Lapis, your beloved Zhongli, is an immortal being who has traveled miles of life, he is a powerful being, the strongest of the gods... or he was... ....

You resign yourself to the facts, to the image of the dragon lying on the rubble, his chest motionless, his eyes lifeless... you had not even been able to say goodbye to him that morning. With regret gnawing at your heart, you burst into Wangsheng's funeral parlor and called out to Hu Tao.

"Rex Lapis," you say with a lump in your throat, as she grabs your arms and asks you to calm down, "Rex Lapis is..." you pause over your words as the figure of your lover emerges from one of the offices.

"Y/n" Hu Tao agitates you, but you are absorbed in the image coming towards you, the way Zhongli hurries to give you a drink.

"He's dead," you manage to finish the sentence without taking your eyes off Zhongli. Hu Tao is shocked by this and laments over such an unfortunate event, delving into theories that could have led to something like this happening.

"There is no reason to jump to conclusions at a time like this," Zhongli suggests, "Ninnguang must need help.

It is Hu Tao who leaves the place at his subordinate's suggestion, leaving him in charge of your welfare, your poor condition being too obvious to the average eye. It is just the two of you in the room, the sound of commotion outside is beyond reproach, but at this moment, you are oblivious to what is going on outside.

Zhongli holds out his coat to you, draping it over your shoulders and adjusting the collar over your chest, you holding the drink he offered you a few moments ago. You analyze him closely, your eyes scanning him in detail, taking in every inch of his image. 

"Y/n," he whispers as he caresses your shoulders, his hands coddling your arms, looking at you like an infant about to cry.

"Zhongli," saying his name feels like breathing out your last breath of life. You bring your hesitant hand to his face, a reflection of your desire to check if what you are observing is real. You press his skin against your palm, and he leans into the familiar touch of your caress.

"My beautiful y/n, I beg your forgiveness" he muses as he moves the cup away from your hands, to take your small limbs between his, kissing your knuckles gingerly.

The gesture causes you to burst into tears, to throw yourself into his arms and release the sea of bitterness and pain that had built up in your chest. Zhongli pulls you close to him, wrapping you in an embrace that he hopes will never break, that he hopes will prove how sorry he is for the hurt he has caused you. You ask him for explanations between sobs, you reproach him for not being clear with you, for letting you believe he was dead, you beat his chest in agony and resentment, and he allows you to do so, if it were up to him, you could actually kill him at that very moment, he deserves no less, not when he has made you shed tears for him so bitterly.

"You should have told me" you whimper, and your legs start to shake. The burning in your chest grows and you feel like you will faint at any moment. Zhongli senses it, senses every change in your organism, so he hurries to ask you to return home.

The road passes in silence, Zhongli has put his arm around your shoulder, and along the way he has showered you with pleas to redeem himself, but you ignore him, you don't even look at him, and that hurts him deeply.

You cross the door and go into the room to lie down on the bed, finally you can no longer use your legs, you have never felt so weak, so useless... You let out the rest of your cry on the pillows, leaning on your hands, your chest heaving for air, the shock hasn't completely left you...

Zhongli approaches you and puts a hand on your back, but you clearly warn him not to come near you, not to touch you, and maybe you are being too hard on him, but it is what you think he deserves. 

"Go away," you order sharply, "you're supposed to be dead... you..." you speak nonsense, it's the pain of shock that overwhelms you.

"What are you saying?" Zhongli exclaims in anguish, searching for your face, though you hide it well for him. He struggles with you, trying to bring you to your senses, "I'm here, my love, it's me... I'm alive," he says, taking your hands and pressing them to his chest, where his desperate heart beats in desperation. You look at him pitifully, your eyes drenched with tears, your lip trembling.

"This is the heart of a living man," he says, "and this is the warmth of a living man's skin," he says, bringing your hands to his neck and chest, unbuttoning his shirt in a desperate act, and as the shock of his desperation strikes your complexion, you seem to snap out of your trance.

"Zhongli..." you finally whisper.

"Here I am, beautiful, I came back for you..." he muses, pressing his forehead against yours.

"You always..." you falter, "you always come back to me," your breath mingles with his, as hot as yours. You rush to his lips, so eager to taste his breath of life, the divinity escaping his mouth like groans as you bite his lip, pressing it harder against your mouth.

"This is our contract," Zhongli says between kisses, a trickle of saliva between the two of you as he removes his shirt and your clothes.

He fucks you with anger, with desire and a burning he didn't know he was holding back. And you scream, your moans high and boisterous, not caring what is happening outside or how sacrilegious it is that you are fucking while everyone outside is suffering the death of Rex Lapis... the same Rex Lapis who is pounding on your cervix with fervor and enormous force, the same one who is massaging your clitoris while sucking on one of your nipples.

"I hate you," you spit angrily, drowning out your moans as you cling to his arms.

"It's what I deserve," he says, just as vulgar as you, sonorous and quite vocal, resting one of your legs on his shoulders, "hate me all you want, y/n, but then scream my name when you cum and when you give birth to our children."

"You bastard," you moan as your fingernails leave scarlet marks on his sculpted shoulders, "don't stop.... Zhongli, don't stop," the way he pounds you is delicious and your guts know it as they twist in a hot knot as his cock makes its way into your pussy.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he repeats, not stopping his assault, settling on top of you to look at the bulge rising in your belly where his cock is abusing you. He puts one of his hands on yours, the other massaging your thigh and the flesh on his shoulder, looking at you with a devotion that you do not recognize, as if you were a treasure, a goddess....

His hips crash mercilessly against yours, and you, as spiteful as you are horny, can't help but make the most vulgar sounds you can. You feel Zhongli's balls slapping against your skin, the frantic movement in and out of your pussy, the way something inside you seems to snap from the force of his penetration. He has you wide open for him, fully exposed, and he gives himself to you like the devotee he is when he fucks you, seeking only your pleasure.

"Zhongli..." you moan as one of your fingers gently caresses the line that divides his scarred abdomen, your digit running down the valley of his rock hard muscles....

"Let me take care of you, darling," he says, taking your hand and planting a kiss on the back of it, leaning down to capture your lips with his mouth. His tongue penetrates the roof of your mouth and you feel your throat receive the visit of such a welcome guest.

Zhongli turns you over, your body snug against the sheets, your face deep in the mattress, and he on top of you. He continues to stir your loins as he lets his chest fall on your back, his face sinking into your shoulder, and you feel that this way, so close to him, he has better access to you. His cock twists in your favorite spot, the one that makes you let out a yelp and reach out a hand for support, grasping the silk between your fingers. Zhongli intertwines his hand with yours, and there, trapped beneath his body, at the mercy of his relentless assault, he whispers a "I love you" with deep regret.

"Zhongli," you moan, completely trapped between the bed and how well he is fucking you, your hands trapped in his, "I love you...damn it...I love you," you cry out as you convulse beneath him, your orgasm erupting as he bathes your velvety walls with his white seed.

You turn your face to breathe. Zhongli doesn't let go or leave you. You stay like this for a moment, enjoying the heat the other gives off. Zhongli kisses your shoulder blade and you feel the remains of his cum leave you as he pulls his cock out of your abused hole. The empty feeling makes you moan. He doesn't let go of you at any point, clinging to you as he lies down and sets you beside him, wrapping you in his arms, securing you in an embrace as he leaves deep kisses on the back of your neck and shoulder. Your chest heaves for air, the ecstasy you feel is unlike anything you have experienced before, no previous encounter has ever been like this.

"I didn't mean it," you say, your voice hoarse, your throat scratchy from shouting, "I don't hate you...I couldn't," you turn to him, meeting amber eyes that look at you with calm and deep regret.

"Do you forgive me?" he asks in a sweet, syrupy, insistent tone. 

"My dear Morax," you whisper, taking refuge in his chest, "I forgave you the moment I felt your aching heart beat with concern for me."

These words are enough for Zhongli to ease the weight he was carrying so that he can rest his chin on your head and breathe in the scent of your hair, mixed with the smell of sex in the room.

He strokes your back, running his fingers over your small human form, downplaying the commotion outside, focusing only on you and your well-being....

[jareaul0ver]

I Can See You

Summary: As the media manager for the UConn WBB team, you've always kept a comfortable, and professional, relationship with the team; but one night out changes everything.

wc: 1.6k warnings: suggestive content, drinking, nothing else really pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader

"Can you guys listen for once! It isn't that hard to stand in a straight line!" You sighed, getting frustrated with the team. It was media day, and Geno wanted a picture of all the girls together, but it was damn near impossible with the way they acted.

A few of them giggled, making your voice go stern. "I swear, ladies, I'm gonna tell Geno that you're all fuckin' around instead of taking these pictures."

They all groaned and shouted in protest. "Then get in a straight line and show me those pretty little smiles everyone loves, got it?"

A collective sigh was heard from the group and you laughed a bit under your breath. You lined the camera up, taking a few pictures. "Alright, do a fun one now, since I know you wanna."

They all changed their poses and looked utterly stupid. You snapped a few photos of them like that and finally media day was over. "Okay, girls, I'm done with you all. Get out of my sight." You smiled at them as they walked past you and to the locker room.

You gathered your things and were putting them carefully back into your bag when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned around and looked up, meeting Nika's warm gaze. "Nika, what's up?"

She smiled at you and cleared her throat. "Hey, um, few of us are going to the bar later if you want to tag along." Her voice was soft and a little hoarse, probably from all of the yelling they did today. You could still hear her accent clearly, though, and it was making your knees weak.

"I'll be there." You smiled up at her. She squeezed your shoulder and mumbled a quiet "perfect" before saying goodbye and walking to the locker room with the rest of the team. Your eyes stuck on her as she walked away.

'Fuck, Y/N. Be normal. Be professional for God's sake.' You thought to yourself as you shoved the rest of your things in your camera bag. You shot Geno a text saying you'd have all the pictures sorted out within the next few days and would send him everything.

You slung your bag over your shoulder before leaving the gym and heading back to your apartment.

You stood against your bathroom sink and looked in the mirror as you applied eyeliner. Your roommate leaned against the doorframe and smirked at you. "Who're you getting pretty for tonight? Is it Nika? You never shut up about her, y'know."

A sigh left your lips as you shot her a glare. "And you just never shut up. I'm going to the bar with a few of the girls on the team, nothing special."

"Is Nika gonna be there?"

"I would think so considering she's the one that invited me-"

Your roommate gasped. "Hold on, she invited you?"

You groaned. "You're looking to far into this. We're just friends, it's nothing more than that. Besides, it would be unprofessional to be anything else."

"Right." She side eyed you. "Well, while you finish getting pretty for your girl, I'm gonna go figure out what to get for dinner."

You rolled your eyes as she walked away, mumbling a quiet "whatever" under your breath as you finished your makeup. You ran your fingers through your hair and decided that you were ready.

As you were leaving the apartment, your roommate called out. "Have fun tonight! And good luck with-" You shut the door behind you before you could hear the rest of her sentence. The bar was a little far from the apartment building, so you called an Uber and rode in silence on the way there.

You got out of the car and looked around, seeing if any of the girls were outside. You didn't see any of their cars, so the either weren't there yet or took Ubers.

You made your way inside and scouted the place out. You still didn't see any of them. You frowned as you made your way over to the bar and ordered a shot, getting head start over everyone else.

After sitting at the bar for a few minutes, making small talk with the bartender (the place wasn't busy in the slightest), you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. You spun around in your chair and met Nika's eyes.

"Sorry we were late. Someone took forever to get ready." She shot glares at Paige and Azzi. They weren't listening though. They were already getting drinks in their system.

You smiled at them and looked back up at Nika. "Don't diss them, they look beautiful."

She rolled her eyes, a tinge of jealousy in her heart, even though she knew you meant the compliment in the friendly way. "Yeah, whatever." She stepped next to you and ordered a drink for you and herself. You gladly took the drink from her and took a sip.

She reached for one of your hands and pulled you off of the barstool. You shot her a confused look. "Let's go dance?"

You smiled and shook your head at her. "Fine. But I can't dance to save my life."

Nika laughed softly as she pulled you to the middle of the floor. The bar had gotten busier, and there were bodies surrounding your every side. Nika had you pulled close to her, letting one of her hands rest on your lower back as the other held her drink.

You looked up at her as you did your best attempt to dance. Her eyes never once left your face. She was down bad for you, and she knew it.

You finished your drink and leaned up to talk in her ear so she could hear you. "Gonna go get another drink, be right back."

She nodded and watched as you walked away from her, but eventually lost you in the crowd. You made your way back over to the bar and got another drink. Paige and Azzi spotted you and came over.

You were lost in your own thoughts. Thinking and seeing all the things that could happen between you and Nika tonight. You and her shoved in a bathroom stall together, your skirt hiked up and her eating you out. You bit your bottom lip and let out a deep breath.

"Yo, you good, ma?" Paige put her hand on your arm. Your head snapped to look at her and you nodded.

"All good, don't worry." You flashed a smile at her and took a sip of your drink. You couldn't focus on her next sentence though. You needed to find Nika again.

You cut Paige off. "Sorry, P, I told Nika I'd be back a few minutes ago." You pat her shoulder before rushing off. Paige and Azzi sent each other knowing looks before shrugging it off and doing their own thing.

The crowd of bodies had only increased in size since you went to get a drink. You shoved your way through the crowd, trying to find Nika in the mess of people.

A few more people shoved to the side revealed her. And a girl very obviously flirting with her. You weren't sure whether Nika was interested in this girl's advancements, or if she was totally oblivious to it.

You took a few steps forward and wrapped your arm around Nika's bicep. "Hey." You tilted your head and looked up at her. Her gaze instantly went to meet yours.

She smiled at you, relief washing over her face. "Hey."

You turned to look at the girl that was flirting with her. She stood there awkwardly and watched the two of you. You glared at her and she took that as her sign to leave.

Nika brought her free hand up and turned your face to meet hers. Your bottom lip found its way between your teeth and Nika's eyes were stuck on it. "Come with me." She said lowly before dragging you away from the dance floor and in the direction of the bathrooms.

You hoped and prayed that this was going the way you wanted it to. You wanted to end up with Nika's head between her thighs, your hand tangled in her brown locks, and her eventually finishing you off in the bar bathroom.

She pulled you into the bathroom and into the handicapped stall, locking it behind you. "What was that?" She questioned. You could smell alcohol on your breath, and you knew she could smell it on yours.

"What was what?" You retorted, playing a little dumb about the situation.

Nika breathed out and took a step forward, trapping you against her and the wall. Fuck, she was hot. "You know what I mean." Her eyes had gone from her innocent bright ones to a dark look that you hadn't seen from her before.

You didn't say anything. The two of you stared at each other before she went to speak. You shook your head and leaned up, wrapping your arms around her neck and getting close to her ear, cutting off her words before they even left her mouth. "This isn't professional."

She grunted a response before leaning forward and latching her mouth onto your neck, leaving sloppy and wet kisses down the column of your neck. "Maybe not, but don't tell me you haven't noticed how things have changed." She said lowly.

You tilted your head back, letting her have easier access to your neck. she continued her assault on your neck, making you forget everything you were about to say. "No response?" She questioned teasingly.

"You're- fuck." She slotted her knee in between your thighs, causing a groan to escape your lips. "You're so fucking addicting."

Her smirk could be felt against your neck for a split second before she pulled away, looking down at you with her cocky expression. "Thought we had to keep things professional?"

i didnt really know where else to go with this one bc tbh i didnt really feel like writing smut for it, but i hope you guys enjoy! i also have a decent amount of requests to respond to, so pls be patient w me while i try and navigate the last 10 days of my classes, up through graduation, and writing these things 😪😪

[barcaatthemoon]

you don't owe me anything || ona batlle x reader ||

your first match against on doesn't go according to plan for either of you.

the red jersey that had once been a dream felt like a prison sentence. you had always wanted to play for manchester united, and there would never be another team for you, but it was still hard sometimes. you missed getting to see ona, even though you knew all it would take for you to break down was a single look shared between the two of you.

somehow, you had gotten into the finals for the champions' league. standing across from you was the barcelona team, and way in the back, ona. barcelona was always in top form, but today was different. they were all playing things even more seriously than they usually did. your team had just barely scraped through to the final.

"oh, i like that look," mary said as she nudged you. everybody on the team had been worried about you. it had been a long time since united had a game against barcelona, and even longer since you had seen ona in person. somehow, you had luckily managed to avoid those game days. "that intensity, it's going to get us a win today."

"or it'll get someone a foul," ella joked. mary shot her a nasty glare. it felt like bad luck to even joke about that, even if you knew that it was true. you were still upset over ona, and even angrier once you learned that she had moved on with one of your national team teammates. whether you'd end up playing aggressively with ona or lucy was anybody's guess.

"just don't injure bronze, we do need her for the friendlies," mary reminded you. you just gave her a curt nod as you returned to lacing up your boots. technically, this was your fourth time doing that, but you were nervous and it helped you calm down a little. ella had been watching you closely, as had katie.

you managed to unlace and lace your boots back one more time before you were being called into the lineup. you could feel ella's hands on your shoulders as the two of you stood in line waiting to go out. beside you, keira was staring at you, but you didn't look over. she was your friend and had done nothing wrong, but you needed to get yourself in the right headspace to properly play the game.

apparently you weren't the only one who was off their game. barcelona's backline was a bit shoddy, allowing for you to get an early goal in. your teammates crowded around you to celebrate, but all you could do was look smugly at ona. she turned away from you ad lucy comforted her, which was when your smugness was snuffed out.

"hey, keep your head in. we're in the lead, but it's not over yet," katie said as she ushered you back into position. the next time you had a chance for a break, it was stopped by a shady tackle from barcelona's captain. you tumbled onto the ground with a groan. somoething definitely felt a little off, but you wanted to play through the whole game.

"hey! what was that about?" you were surprised to see ona shouting at her own captain. the ref let the dirty tackle go, which seemed to infuriate ona a little bit.

"are you good to continue?" ella asked you. you nodded as you dusted yourself off and resumed playing. she didn't like you were being quiet, especially after something like that happened. ella knew the tells for when you were hurt, but you were seemingly moving just fine. you were already in a bad mood, so everybody assumed that the grimaces were from that.

things progressed quickly in the first half, both sides conceding a few goals. the game was high scoring, both teams just going back and forth. barcelona managed to pull ahead by one goal, giving a 3-2 scoreline. you were ready to tie the game up and give an extra one to push your team ahead. your first opportunity came as an assist to ella, who ran straight into your arms and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

ona was subbed out after that one, so she was sitting on the sidelines when you came in hot for what should have been the goal to give your team the lead. instead, the goalkeeper knocked it away for a corner kick. tensions were high as you pushed against several players. the cross came in almost directly to you and you headed it in, but in the process was knocked into the goal post by a barcelona player.

this time, it was impossible for the card not to be issued. you were cradling your head, completely unaware of the blood pouring from a cut on the side. ella and katie didn't even let you attempt to sit up as medics came with a stretcher. you were escorted off of the pitch, much to your dissatisfaction.

your head was stitched up, and afterwards, you failed the concussion test. there were talks of a hospital visit, but you refused it. you were escorted by one of the reserves to the locker room to get cleaned up and changed out of your kit, the shirt of which was soaked with blood.

"(y/n), there's someone to see you." you weren't quite sure who you had expected to see while you waited for your team to finish getting ready to leave. all you wanted to do was go back to the hotel and sulk a little, even if you knew that nobody would have let you fall asleep. you thought that maybe keira was worried about you, but you didn't expect to see lucy standing there waiting for you.

"i don't need much time, maybe just a minute," lucy said. she seemed sort of nervous, which you definitely weren't used to. the two of you had been to a few camps together since she had reportedly begun dating ona, all of them having been very awkward and tense. at first, she thought that it was because of your friendship with keira, but then ona had spilled the beans about your relationship in manchester.

"go on," you said curtly.

"ona is beside herself worrying about you, and i can't believe i'm saying this, but you should go talk to her. we were supposed to be on a short break, but i can't let things go back to normal between us, not when i know how she feels about you," lucy told you. she was playing with her fingers as she kicked at the floor.

"what are you saying?" you asked her.

"technically, i'm not saying anything if anybody asks. just, go talk to ona and comfort her because i've tried and you're the only person she cares about right now." lucy pushed you towards barcelona's locker room, where ona was crouched outside with her head in her hands.

"hey." you nudged at ona, who looked up at you in surprise. she immediately stood up straight and pulled you in for a hug. you let her have that, but pulled away when she tried to kiss you. "ona, you and lucy."

"we're on a break. we've been on a break since you guys qualified," ona admitted. you knew what that meant in ona's mind. she knew that she'd be seeing you again, that maybe there would be a chance for a good reunion. instead, things seemed to be nearly catastrophic. "i was hoping that we could spend some time together, or at least talk."

"ona, just because your girlfriend here is fine with you fucking around with me, doesn't mean that i am. we're not together, i'm here for a game, not to hook up. it's not like that anymore, it hasn't been like that since you left." the reminder of how things ended was not something that ona had been expecting. "i'm not yours anymore, you can't expect anything from me."

"i didn't expect you to come home with me. i just miss you. it's hard being apart from the woman you love," ona said. you scoffed, and instead of getting mad, ona just doubled down with the sappiness. "just because we're not together anymore doesn't mean that i stopped loving you."

"i'm not yours to love, ona. you have lucy. we had a chance to get back together and instead, you fuck the first woman who looks at you with sad eyes." your words felt a bit harsh, but they seemed to get the point across. ona put her hands up in surrender and walked back into her locker room, now upset for an entirely different reason.

[mrchiipchrome]

The Drunk Dial

W.C.- 3.8 k

a/n; i know that this is extremely shitty

------

Alessia Russo hated you. You would go as far as to say that she despised you. You don’t know when it started, but it’s been one of the only constants in your life ever since. Your parents divorce? Meh, she couldn’t give a damn. You break your arm? Good going trying to get her to sign your cast. You get called up? Ugh tell someone who cares.

It wasn’t like you didn’t try to become friends with the blonde, it was just that she rejected your every advance. In fact that’s all you did the first year or so, until you realized it was futile of you to even try. Ever since the two of you had been living in disharmony, arguing with the other every chance you got.

That’s why you’re so confused when you hear the voicemail she left you the night before as you’re walking to training. The slurred words quickly makes the confused look disappear, a smirk replacing it rapidly as you realize the ammunition you now have.

The girls look on in confusion as you basically skip your way into the meeting room, eyes scanning for the blonde head of hair you’d gotten used to seeing daily over the last few weeks. When you inevitably don’t see her, you take a seat closer to the door than you usually would.

“Oi, Y/n you’re in my seat!” Katie whisper shouts as she takes the seat right beside you, wanting her favorite seat back. 

“Tough luck Katie, come earlier next time” You tease, adding an overdramatic wink at the end of the sentence to emphasize. You’re not even mad when the older girl pushes harshly at your shoulder, in too good of a mood to have it be dampened by anyone.

The meeting finishes as quickly as it had started, Alessia not appearing until the meeting itself had concluded and people had started to file out the door. Not you though, you stayed right where you’d taken your seat 20 minutes before. 

Your humorous glare didn’t even falter as you felt the harsh one coming from the girl with baby blue eyes, who’d coincidentally thrown herself into the seat opposite of you. Jonas looks at Alessia expectedly as the blonde girl slowly lowers her sunglasses, the tall man expecting an apology from the obviously hungover girl.

“I’m so sorry for being late Jonas” The gaffer looks on in slight disbelief before sighing loudly.

“It’s okay, just don’t let it happen again” He fixes her with a pointed look, quickly disappearing from the enclosed space with Alessia nodding vigorously.

“Can I get you anything Russo? Water? Smelling salts? An alibi for why you’re late?” The teasing tone in your voice is almost as prominent as the striker's headache, the headache that makes her feel like her head is splitting.

“No but you could fuck right off!” Alessia rests her forehead on the cool surface of the table in an attempt at easing her pounding headache. She runs her hands over her sloppily tied hair, the bun she’d hastily thrown her golden locks into quickly falling apart.

“Ooohh, that stings.” Your hand comes up to cover your heart, like the women in those renaissance paintings. “Not the words, but the cloud of vodka that accompanies them” Your teasing continues even after she gives you the finger. 

“Fuck you!” Alessia groans out through clenched teeth. With a response as quick as light, you counter.

“Oh you wish” You’re able to see the disgusted expression on her face from miles away, but strangely you also see the slight rosiness of her cheeks. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I went out with some old UNC friends last night” Your eyebrows furrow at her explanation, she doesn’t owe you one.

“Yeah, then you thought ‘Oh, I should call Y/n at 3 am’” The smirk on your face widens exponentially as Alessia lifts her face from the table, confusion on every corner of her expression.

“Really, yeah cause the first thing I do when I’m having fun is think abou-” Her sweet accented voice is cut off by her own, only the latter is slurred and barely audible.

“Y/n Y/l/n I’m ringing you because…what was it?” Alessia’s giggle on the recording of her voice cuts off her next words, “You’re probably asleep but you’re pretty…I don’t even know” The recording is cut off with the sound of someone shouting for shots. Alessia’s face is beet red by now, expressing every horrified thought running through her pretty head.

“The drunk dial. So much subtext. So much intrigue. So much booty call implication.” You’re oh so satisfied with yourself as Alessia opens her mouth to respond, but ultimately doesn’t. The chair bounces off the floor as the blonde legs it out the door, your laughter providing a back track.

The loud clicking of cleats against the floor catches your attention, and when Gio’s head pops into the room from the doorway. 

“What happened with Less?” The younger girl questions, having seen Alessia running to the locker room only moments before.

“Russo drunk dialed me! After years of hating me, she called me drunk last night and I got the voicemail to prove it.” Gio’s expression turns from neutral to worried faster than a lightswitch turns a lamp on.

“The drunk dial?! Ohhhh this can’t be good!” Now it’s your turn to be confused, the girl in front of you extremely worried.

“Hey, it’s no biggie. We tease each other all the time, she hates me” You explain apprehensively, not wanting to make the girl more worried.

“That’s the point! What can she do when you hold all the cards? It’s like when two people see each other naked in sitcoms, the balance shifts.” The girl in front of you grabs your shoulder wildly, as to implicate exactly how important it is that you understand.

“So you’re telling me I need to show Russo the lady parts?” Your smile indicates that you’re joking, and Gio shoves your shoulder telling you to go and get ready for training. Still, the talk with the younger woman sticks in your mind throughout practice, especially when Alessia can’t look you in the eyes and when she doesn’t tackle you as hard as usual.

Eventually when practice ends you all file into the cafeteria for lunch, and you end up in line right behind the blue eyed beauty. The blonde avoids your every attempt at meeting her eyes and starting a conversation, not giving you her usual snide remarks. You’re worried now, her snide remarks usually hurting you but in a good way.

“Russo, once when I was out at the pub with the team I hit on a dude who I thought was a chick.”  Her sky blue eyes meet yours for the first time since that morning, tens of different emotions swirling around in them.

“Why are you telling me this?” She questions.

“Well it’s to tell you that no one acts like themself when they’re drunk, I wouldn’t think about flirting with a dude sober. Sooo…” You answer her confidently, that confidence disappearing when she gives you a dirty look.

“Fuck off Y/l/n” Her voice is more venomous than a black mamba, and you have to hide the slightly shocked expression from your teammates who all look on in confusion at the interaction. 

After getting your food, you make your way to where Gio is sitting in a conversation with Kathrine. The chair thuds as you drop down into it and you effectively pull Gio’s attention away from her best friend, the girl looking at you with a knowing smile.

“You were right, it’s all awkward now and she won’t even insult me.” You throw your hands up into the air as Kathrine looks on in confusion.

“Wait, let’s hear that first part again” Gio demands with a satisfied smile. You sigh, knowing that this was the only way for you to get her to help you.

“You were right.” 

“And just one more time for good measure” You fix the brunette with a slight glare before once again telling her that she was right. “Oh it’s like music to my ears, now the only way to get everything back to normal is for you to even the score.” Gio tells you, Kathrine giving up on trying to understand what you were talking about.

“I have to show Russo my bits?” This time, unlike the other, you’re completely serious. Gio slaps her hand on her forehead at you as she tries to explain what she means to you.

“No, you have to drunk dial her! Have you ever acted drunk before?” The girl questions curiously, looking at you expectantly.

“No I’m not drunk, seriously I’m not drunk.” You slur your words painfully, swaying slightly in your seat to give it a realer look. Gio winces at the horrid performance, knowing that she would have to get you drunk for her plan to work.

“That was horrible, I’ll go home with you after the weight session and we’ll practice, okay?” You nod in response before digging into your food.

—-

After another rather awkward training session with the blue eyed girl, you find yourself in your apartment with your young companion who’s trying to coach you on how to act drunker than you are.

As Gio pours you another shot of the clear alcoholic beverage, you can’t help but wince slightly at the burning sensation at the back of your throat from previous shots.

“Bottoms up” The girl tells you playfully as you throw the liquid courage down the back of your throat. “Now, try again. Let’s see your drunk impression.” You imitate an old phone as you make beeping noises.

“Wassup Russo, your call was a nice surprise so I decided to give you a ring to thank you for it” The slurring words don’t help you in the slightest as Gio once again looks on in disgust.

“No, not like that, come on!” The young girl explains.

“Gio, I love you and all, but to be honest you’re a horrible drinking buddy.” You can see the girl's expression change drastically as she picks up the bottle of alcohol. Looking on in shock, you see how the brunette chugs the alcohol directly from the bottle.

“I thought you didn’t drink” You express, Gio looking at you like you’re crazy.

“I don’t, but it’s all for the plot. The things I do for you my friend, the things I do for you” Gio pours two shots for you both to take.

What follows is a night full of drinking with one of your best friends, and one very long very detailed call to your nemesis…

—-

The rude beeping of your alarm going off for the tenth time makes you groan, your head pounding viciously in protest of the light coming in through the blinds and directly into your eyes. Your back aches dully as you feel the hard floor beneath you, looking up to the couch you see Gio’s sleeping form resting all over it.

Crawling over to the girl, you slap her leg hard to wake her up from slumber. The girl wakes with a slight yell as she sees you lying on the floor, questioning where she was.

“What happened last night?” You ask, running your hand over your face, the apartment in shambles with empty bottles strewn around like it would after a high school rager. The young girl shakes her pounding head before perking up again.

“Did you call Less last night?!” You pick your phone up with a rapid pace, looking at your outgoing calls.

“One outgoing call to Russo, and one outgoing call to Kimmy…oh fuck me, that’s not good” You tell the girl, who nods with wide eyes nearly bursting out in laughter at your terrified expression.

“Oh fuck, oh shit, look at the time! We’re so fucked!” You scrambled up from your place on the floor, rushing into your bedroom to gather some new, not alcohol drenched clothes for you and Gio. Throwing the clothes on the youngster, you tell her to hurry up and put them on before you’re even later than needed.

You’re both out the door in record time, slipping the pairs of sunglasses you always kept with you over your eyes to block out the light even more. 

Pulling up to training, the two of you rush out of the car and into the building. The locker room is nearly empty by the time you reach it, the only people there being the only two in the whole world that you didn’t want to see at that moment. Kim raises her brow at the door slamming open and as you look into her eyes, you see the disapproving look that’s settled there. When Gio runs into your back only moments later, it only becomes worse.

You rush to your cubby, located only meters away from Alessia’s, Alessia who looks at you with a satisfied smirk on her face. The stupid smirk entices you, and you wonder what you possibly could have said to get her to look at you like that.

Pulling your shirt off, you don’t notice her Alessia’s eyes follow the movement, her eyes locking onto the shaped abs and the ridges that appear on your arms as you struggle to get the shirt off. Just because you don’t notice doesn’t mean that Gio doesn’t, she smirks at the obvious attraction Alessia holds for you.

After getting your training clothes on, you make your way to the door where your skipper is waiting for you. She holds the door open for you before slinging her arm around your waist, you bringing your arm up and around her shoulders. 

“Did you have fun last night?” The older woman asks you, your eyes widening slightly in surprise at her question.

“If I’m honest, I can’t even remember most of last night.” Your free hand comes up to rub at the back of your neck, the door behind you opening up yet again.

“Well, next time you and Gio decide to have a night full of drinking, please make sure that you dial Alessia’s number right away instead of calling me, okay?” Your cheeks darken exponentially at the blondes words, the woman a mentor to you.

“I’m so sorry Kimmy.” She smiles up at you in response, patting your stomach lightly before breaking away from you.

Back in the locker room Alessia is getting ready to get out of the locker room, that is before she hears Gio call her name.

“Alessia, I can see the way you look at her when you think no one’s watching you.” The shorter girl keeps her voice low, like she’s talking to a scared animal.

“What are you talking about?” The blonde questions, her eyes betraying her real feelings as the love shines through the apparent hatred.

“I’m talking about you and Y/n, listen I know that you hate her or whatever but the eyes never lie chica, the eyes never lie” And with that, Gio walks out of the room, leaving a stunned Alessia Russo behind.

—-

Only days later, it’s time for an away game and as you settle into your seat on the bus you can’t help but think about your blue eyed teammate. Staring out the window, you get startled out of your thoughts by a body flopping into the seat beside you. Looking to your left, you see the person you least expected to sit beside you.

Her ocean-like eyes look into your own for a second before she stares back towards the front of the bus. When she starts to talk, she does so in a whisper that barely gets heard over the bustle of the bus.

“So, you think I’m pretty huh?” She leans into your body slightly, her minty breath wafting over the side of your face. The cool mint contrasts the hot nature of your tomato red face, wide eyes scanning her side profile nervously.

“What? I’ve never said that!” Your voice comes out shaky and unsure as your eyes flit around the bus, now it’s Alessia’s turn to study you.

“Oh, so you don’t deny that I’m pretty?” She teases, your face becoming even more red than before if that was possible. The sputtering coming from your throat doesn’t help your case as you choke on your spit.

Alessia pulls up her phone to play the voicemail you’d left her only days before, the slurred voice on the recording obviously yours as it was your turn to be embarrassed.

“Hey Ruse-Cruise, I was just calling to tell you that you're so pretty. I can’t believe that you’re real, you always look like a fucking goddess and I’m so jealous that I can’t call you mine. Yeah, sober me is gonna hate myself for that but I don’t care. Kiss Kiss!” If you could, you would throw yourself off a cliff. 

Pulling your hoodie up and over your cartoonishly red face, you wish for the ground to swallow you whole or at least get Alessia to move away from you. And after a bit, it seems like your prayers are answered because Alessia moves over to sit beside Lotte and Gio moves into the spot Alessia had occupied only moments before.

“Gio, kill me” You plead to the younger girl, who looks on in part amusement and part concern.

“That bad, huh?” Your head drops down onto her shoulder and you hum in agreement. “It’ll be alright, don’t you worry.” The younger girl strokes your back to comfort you, catching the eye of her partner in crime and nodding. The plan had to be set in motion.

—-

Ever since you had heard that godforsaken voicemail, you had been ignoring the older girl who it had been sent to. The only time you actually gave her any semblance of attention was during training or games, and even then it was only a second of eye contact or a quick word.

The striker's friends had even started to notice the effect your absence had on her, the girl much more frustrated and closed off than normal. It had gotten so bad that her performance on the pitch was worsening slightly. Something had to be done, and fast.

Just to their luck, the two matchmakers had created a plan that was sure to work.

When Gio comes running for you after training one day, her worried expression fools you just the right amount and as she runs away in the opposite direction you were going in, you just had to follow her.

What you didn’t expect was to be pushed into a storage closet only moments after arriving to where Gio had stopped, another body being pushed into you seconds later before the telltale sound of the lock clicking shut sounds throughout the cramped space.

The person leaning against you soon jumps away from you, a voice sounding from the other side of the door.

“I don’t care how you do it, but the two of you need to make up. Only then will you be let out.” The scowl on your face widens at the smugness in Gio’s voice and your fist pounds at the door viciously as you scream and yell for them to open the damn door. 

In your attempts to get the girls on the other side to open the door for you, you don’t notice how Alessia starts to panic nor do you notice how she’s now on the ground. 

“Y/n shut up!” Her tone is harsh as you continue to bang your fist on the door. “No seriously Y/n, shut up!” The way Alessia speaks has you looking towards her, seeing the dark silhouette of her body sitting on the floor.

“I don’t like tight spaces” She whispers into your ear after you’ve dropped down beside her, taking her hand in your own, you don’t have the stomach to tell her that her death grip is cutting off all your circulation.

“Hey, Russo, how can I help you? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me how” The free hand caresses her shin in what’s supposed to be a comforting action. All the years of supposed hate disappears when she looks up at you with tearfilled eyes, begging you to do something.

“I don’t care what you do, just distract me please” She begs. The idea that pops into your head will probably make her hate you even more, but alas it’s the only way to distract her.

“Fuck it” You lean in closer to her, the fact that she isn’t pushing you away is definitely a good sign.

“Can I kiss you?” You whisper against her lips, in place of a response she leans in slightly and presses her soft lips against your own.

The only way to describe her lips was that they were heavenly, and definitely distracting. They move slowly, testing the waters before diving in. Without breaking the seal of your lips, the forward slowly moves over into your lap, her hands tasseling in your locks whilst yours settle comfortably on her hips. The bruising grip of your fingers doesn’t let up even after the blonde pulls away from the kiss.

She twirls your hair between her long, perfectly manicured fingers and her intense gaze settles on your face, eyes flitting over it like she’s trying to commit it to memory. Your thumbs find their way under the hem of her shirt, stroking the skin softly.

“I’m sorry” She speaks up quietly.

“What could you possibly be sorry for, pretty girl?” 

“The way I’ve treated you, I couldn’t even tell you why I did it.” Alessia explains, her fingers caressing your cheek sweetly. You lean into her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her palm before speaking.

“Eh, that’s all in the past, how about we make some positive memories to replace the old ones huh?” You whisper back, pulling the shorter girl in for another kiss. 

“Hey, Gio! Can we come out now? We’ve made up” Alessia’s cheeks darken slightly at the particular choice of words. You two stand up as the door gets unlocked and opened, letting Alessia exit first, you soon lunge at the brazilian who’d locked you in. Pulling her into a headlock, you hear the sweet sound of Alessia’s laughter and you can’t help but laugh yourself.

Let’s just say, Alessia Russo doesn’t hate you anymore, the kisses you share deep into the night a sure indication of that…

[loves4ge]

Hello, could you possibly write a Megumi x reader fic (or could be gojo x reader, idk, as you prefer), but the reader, in terms of personality and behaviour, is a bit like Megumi? Like rather quiet, serious and reserved, and has trouble expressing their emotions? And could the characters just be asexual please ? Anyway, I really like your work, it's always great and fun! Hope you have a nice day

"are you sure about this? you know it's bad luck." your mother says, worryingly. it's sweet how she cares but you don't believe in omens like those. these superstitions would get in the way of your comfort. megumi doesn't mind though. and neither do you.

"i'm sure. plenty of couples do private first looks. it'll make us feel better, alright? now, which room did you say he's in?" your mother sighs, a frown still etched on her face. still, she relents and points to a closed, brown door down the end of the hallway.

you kiss her cheek, smooth her eyebrows to erase the frown. you poke the corner of her lips to get to her to smile, turn and start moving.

you feel your heart growing heavier, nerves rattling as you try to calm your breathing. you don't think it's working. you're at the door too quick. would it be weird if you circled the area a couple of times before you came back? probably.

you raise your hand to knock, your knuckles softly knocking against the hard wood twice. there's a muffled "come in" and you twist the doorknob, swallowing your spit and hope your fears went down as well.

you open the door to see megumi turned around, with his back towards you. ah, his suit is a grey charcoal because you were adamant on him not wearing black.

his hair is styled perfectly even from the back and the emotions overwhelm you. though you're sure it doesn't translate across your face; you've always had a little bit of a poker face, almost always unintentionally.

"you can turn now," your voice is soft, steady as you stand behind him, hands clasping rosy-hued flowers. his turn is slow, dramatically so, until his gaze fixes on you.

for a minute, there's silence. you look into his eyes and he looks back. there's not a lot you can say. you want to, but it doesn't come out. you've never been very good at this affirmation thing.

but it's easier with megumi. it always is. he knows you; the thought brings a smile to your face and you set the bouquet on a nearby table.

"you're so gorgeous," he whispers, though his hands stay by his sides and you don't rush to hug him. it's nice to stare at him like this.

"i can't believe i'm going to be upstaged by the groom." he believes this to be wholly untrue, smiling at your words. you wish you could articulate the feeling you have right now.

you feel like you're fifteen again, seeing him for the first time when he did his hair spikier than what he does now. god, you loved his eyes, and they're staring at you right now, swirling with nothing but love and admiration.

your sentences are caught up in your throat, and your voice is scratchy. instead, you step closer, take his palm in your hands. tracing the lines; love, fate, career. you turn his hand gently, and bring it up to your mouth, softly brushing a kiss against his knuckles.

he warms. straightens his back. his free hand snakes across your waist to the small of your back and he pulls you close. the sudden movement makes you jump, dropping his hand.

he touches your forehead with his own; you're both warm.

"i know." you want to ask what he knows but you already know.

i love you. i would break the sun and the moon and the stars for you. i would cross an ocean, climb a mountain, venture a forest for you. my heart, my soul, my love. you are the reason i breathe, the reason i live, the reason i love.

[chaedomi]

Hi I just found your blog and you are so talented, your writing is so immersive you really have a gift, I was wondering if you could write for some yandere oshi no ko? Maybe with the mc being a very famous model, platonic or romantic is fine

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋 ✦ onk

fem!reader x aqua, ruby, kana, minami, frill, akane (yandere / separate), can be read as platonic or romantic, hints toward spoilers in manga (and anime for those who have reached a certain point), implied stalking, unhealthy relationships. ꨄ — masterlist

YOU WERE pretty and sensational. You had a diverse career that allowed you to explore different types of styling, keeping the job interesting. You were also a huge influence and an inspiration to many, encouraging them to pursue a career in modeling and to experience various brands of fashion and cosmetics.

However, what attracted people to you the most was not your career, but rather your unique personality and your unparalleled charisma. It was one-of-a-kind, something that would leave people aching for more… similar to a former starry-eyed idol. It's no surprise that you have a ton of admirers, and that includes the odd ones as well.

AQUAMARINE HOSHINO

Let's be real. Model or not, unless you were of use to him or acquainted with his sister, AQUAMARINE would see no necessary need to interact nor get to know you. Why should he care about someone who will eventually fall from stardom?

But, in this case, it was different. Very much so. It was as though time stopped for a split moment when you both passed each other in the school hallways. Faster than his mind could process, his hand was already reaching out to grasp your arm as if he were to let you go, you would disappear for an eternity. Unusual of him. After you overcame your brief surprise from the sudden contact, you offered him a polite smile, eyes twinkling with unspoken mischief… to which he gawked at like an idiot.

How was it possible for you to possess the same charm as 'she' did…? He’s so stunned and in disbelief that he’s incapable of constructing a coherent sentence for some time. No investigations were made to confirm his assumptions… he was THAT convinced. You best believe he made the effort to become associated with you. It wasn’t as though he was desperate to attach himself to you, you noticed, but somehow, he always found a way to be around you, and if on the correct setting, it was beyond unnerving. You shrugged your shoulders at his abnormal behavior, justifying it with a “you’ve handled worse.” By the time it is finally drilled through your thick skull that hey, ‘something is wrong,’ Aqua would have fully wedged himself into your life. Good luck trying to avoid him…

There is an annoying obstacle in the way… namely your career as a model. Not to mention, the large fanbase you have gained over the years. So much as it was very tempting to find shady methods to force you to void your career entirely, the problems that can arise afterward will be more than problematic.

As said, because you remind him of a certain individual, his extreme tendencies will begin to lay on you. Just because he cannot end your career does not mean he cannot become overbearing. The fear of seeing you injured or harmed in any way replays a very unpleasant memory in his head…

He constantly monitors what you do, and whom you choose to interact with, and makes decisions that seem appropriate for you. It's as though you’ve lost your right to free will…

He's aware of how wrong it is. But, to him, it feels like a second chance, to lift some of the burden that he has carried on his shoulders for a while, to rid of the guilt that was slowly destroying him mentally and emotionally. Well, at the very least, he didn't convince himself you were 'her'. Even though there were some strong resemblances in characteristics, it was still easy to nitpick many differences (to him).

RUBY HOSHINO

There's without a doubt, Aqua was only familiar with your existence due to RUBY. A walking and living example of a true stan and diehard fan; god, she was obsessed with you. Magazines, products, advertisements, brands, merch, anything that has your face plastered on it, she’s out to grab it all… what she can afford, by the way. Your hair! Your lips! Your EYES! How can someone be this attractive!? Forget Model… someone put you in a museum for you to be admired by millions, quick!

As you can tell, Ruby has quite an attachment to you. And this is her without the yandere tendencies included. It was terrifying and had the potential to creep out anyone unfortunate enough to listen to one of her passionate rants. Other than her fawning over you for your glorious visage, there was another reason as to why she acted the way she did. You were just like 'her', the way you spoke, the way you moved, everything was down to par. It filled her mind with memories of 'her' helping her cope through dark times, and you were too doing the same, distracting her from the negativity that threatened to cloud her mind. At some point… she fully believed that you were 'her' in another body. You just had to be! Explain the similarities! It took thorough reasoning for her to understand that the possibilities were low. You were around her age, so by the time 'she' passed away, it would have been too late for that to happen.

On the day of school, it came as a big shock to her seeing so many famous faces inside the premises. But the biggest one of them all was when you walked inside her classroom all smiles, apologizing to the teacher for your tardiness. Shit… was she actually inside a dream right now!? She pinched and twisted her skin for good measure. Nope! She was alive and conscious! There’s no room for argument, she most definitely did snap a couple of pictures from where she seated, behind you. Somehow, she mustered up the courage to converse with you after class, falling deeper into her admiration for you.

Unlike her brother who saw your career as a nuisance, she fully supports you to continue all the way! In addition to that, it's a massive stroke to the ego that she had the privilege to bask in your presence while the majority had limitations. Do you know how many people would kill just to breathe the same air as you, The Loveable Model?

Turns out, Ruby can make for a dangerous yandere. Once Ruby puts her mind into something, the results made afterward are so impressive that it’s scary… But, it’s not like she’ll ever need that to happen, as long as you vow to stay by her side, she’ll make no drastic attempts to prevent herself from losing something as she previously did.

KANA ARIMA

For KANA, at first, it was an in-between… Although it was not to the extent of Ruby, she was a fan of yours… you were just too entrancing! You’re the reason why she went through many style phases, buying useless shit she didn’t need, wearing expensive brand clothing that you featured in… you get the main idea. Sooner or later she had to stop as she noticed the money she made from her child career quickly diminishing the more she allowed herself to indulge in her fan side for you. Begrudgingly she put a halt to it, still buying your magazines every now and then.

The other half is completely sour when she sees how whipped Aqua is for you. (she totally doesn’t question if Aqua’s attachment to you was romantic or not…) She kind of gets it; your personality, your looks, and your status as a famous model, you were a ten. But, there was a difference between love and admiration, so you were some sort of rival to her.

Fear not, Kana gets past that, clinging onto you instead as she got to know you in person. It was bound to happen. Kana was already ‘under your charm’, so it was only a matter of time before that admiration morphed into an obsession. Kana can be very clingy and manipulative. Manipulative in the sense that she uses her sad-sob backstory to ground you by her side. The majority of her supporters are now her anti-fans, she doesn’t have her parents around, and now you, the idol she looks up to, want to leave her too!? You wouldn’t do that to your lovely supporter, right?

Kana wouldn’t care about your career too much, she understands what it’s like to really love your job, so she doesn’t complain a lot. As long as you treat her kindly and remember her, she is content. Please.

MINAMI KOTOBUKI

It's like, the calmer the individual is, the uglier their hidden side will be. And MINAMI will not be excluded from that logic. There is no doubt that Minami was affiliated with you due to her status as a pin-up model. On some weird, rare occasions, you would find yourself as her partner for a certain aesthetic for a photoshoot. So, yes… you knew each other to an extent.

What you couldn't wrap your head around was the fact you always felt a sense of unease around her. She out of all people. Why? She's an absolute sweetie, gentle and pure at heart. She always compliments you on how you look and praises you for the work you put in toward modeling. She goes on further to say she can see why people adore you so much.

There's nothing for you to worry about… except for the glaringly obvious issue that her eyes seem to follow whatever movement you make. It could be the twitch of a finger or any minority; glance to the side and there are pink doe eyes already staring holes into your face. Or when you're seated in the courtyard and just so happen to look at the corner nearby and see Minami there, who smoothly brushes it off with a friendly wave.

It was fine to you, till you began to see those pink doe eyes in the more uncanny places, namely restaurants you're in, or your job… you could swear you saw those pink eyes somewhere inside your house one time. But as you blinked, they vanished. As you take a peek at Minami who catches your gaze and laughs brightly, you can't help but wonder if it was just your imagination and you were overreacting…

FRILL SHIRANUI

Hmm… This one is a bit tricky. You see, FRILL doesn't tend to expose much of an expression or a reaction. You never know what's going through her head or how she feels about something till she bluntly puts it into words.

She's also affiliated with you because of your careers, (the magazines of hers and you are always trendy and are the most popular) so you weren't awkward or tense around her. It's just… Why is she looking at you like that? It's similar to Minami in the sense her eyes never leave you, but there is a layer of coldness in her gaze, in addition to the slight furrow of her eyebrows.

You thought she hated you. For what? You didn't know. It couldn't be career-wise, she had a great number of followers and need not be concerned about you overthrowing her. She didn't come across as the petty type either.

What did you choose to do about the matter? Simple. You approached her with a blinding smile, getting straight to the point. That day you got to witness a sight you'd never think you'd receive an opportunity to.

Embarrassment. She got embarrassed and the light blush that crept its way to her cheeks had you staring in astonishment. It was out of character for her, much more the difficulty she had to fumble out a proper sentence.

You just left for your next class as the bell rang because wow, that was unexpected. It was cute to watch, seeing Frill become so soft-spoken around you. Who knew that a high-ranked celeb like her looked up to and admired you too!?

You're so amused by her change of personality that you don't notice the icy glares she shoots toward people daring enough to take another step closer to you…

AKANE KUROKAWA

Another person who viewed you as a rival due to how whipped Aqua was for you. It didn’t matter whether Aqua’s attachment to you was platonic or romantic, the undivided attention Aqua gave you was something AKANE dreamed of having. So, when the chance arrived for her to develop a new character for the reality show she was featuring, she jumped at the opportunity to become what Aqua desired in a person. Spending hours studying your character, she aspired to impersonate you. Sadly, it didn’t work as well as she thought it would. Of course, she could never compare to you and your charisma. You were beautiful, very famous… there are just some things you cannot copy.

Initially, it was disappointment over Aqua’s lackluster reaction to her change, after all, she thought this a good way to pay him in return for what he did for her. Later, as she began to develop romantic feelings for him, the disappointment morphed into frustration. She felt like a loser all over again… No effort will make him adore her as she wants him to… So, she gave up.

Strangely enough, you managed to weasel your way into her heart in place of Aqua. She didn’t know what to make of it at first, frozen with a pale blush on her face when you praised her for her work. The way her heart thudded against her chest… she didn’t even react like that to the boy she so claimed to like. Perhaps he wasn’t the one she should waste her time on…

Even though Akane is considered one of the more ‘dangerous’ yanderes with her high intellect and analyzing skills, she’s pretty much harmless. In the nicest way I can say it, Akane is akin to a loyal devotee of some sort… As in whatever you desire, Akane will try her best to provide it, impersonation or not.

Akane is familiar with your works (god, BLESS the photographers for capturing your elegant essence in the most perfect angles), and is amazed, but she's not that into it??? Maybe if you were to branch out into her area of acting, the hype would be stronger… That doesn't mean you should stop in any way though! Continue to pose and look pretty while she appreciates (read as obsesses over) the sight. However, if your career were to ever… become an obstacle between you both, THAT will get her FULL attention.

BONUS: AI HOSHINO

In this scenario, let's pretend you were around the age when AI was still alive. Let's think about this. Suppose you had a terrible childhood without correct familial guidance, or experienced situations that resulted in you being unable to feel and express love properly.

Now, imagine you came across a person who made you feel the very emotions that you desperately sought out. Would you want to distance yourself from that person, especially when they granted you something you've been seeking for so long?

The answer is no, and that's exactly what Ai did. By far, the worst one out there. She isolates you, she breaks your bonds with other people, and when you try to voice your complaints about her actions, she has the audacity to play innocent, baffled by your accusations.

A master with her words too, you would point fingers at her, the bad guy, and somehow, the argument would end with you apologizing and her rubbing your back gently as a large smile spreads on her face.

Surprisingly, she was the one who encouraged you to pursue a career in the entertainment industry. You agreed, thinking she was being normal for a change, but then later found out it was for her to spend time with you without consequences… Who would complain about two famous celebs hanging out with each other!? Not that she had a problem maintaining a lie, she just wanted the easier route.

It was very shameful that you felt a sense of satisfaction over the announcement of her funeral. Too bothered by the things she did while she was alive to you, the news deserved a celebration instead.

You lived a few more years of your life in peace. However, the day both of her children arrived on your front doorstep, it made you realize that Ai had no intentions of leaving you alone, allowing her children to replace the role she owned in your life. Even in death she still found a way to trouble you…

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

[chimivx]

That one fucked you over last year, this one is fucking you over this year, you had no idea she was involved with him, someone over here has been lying to you, you didn't mean to end up in that ones bed, he told you he loved you... Does anyone even trust anyone anymore?

👫 -> college!teez x fem!reader/oc {frat/sorority} #️⃣ -> 16k exact. (part SEVEN of ten) good luck. ‼️ -> 18+, sexual content, drugs/alcohol, college life, all the drama, heavy angst, infidelity adjacent moments, mean boys, mean girls, mentions of anxiety/depression… IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

{ there are names & faces in here that come from NMWID <3 }

september 23rd ~ monday ~ 11:20 a.m.

“I’ll take a shot of vodka, or something else, whatever you’ve got.”

Theo smiled, then shook his head, leaning over the counter toward you.

“You can get that later down the street,” he said. “Want me to surprise you if you aren’t gonna make a decision?”

Clasping your hand over your hoodie you shrugged. “Please.”

Getting to work, he sent the occasional glance over his shoulder. “You’re in a weird mood, what happened?” He wrapped his hand around a large sized cup and took it to the espresso machine. “What’s happened since Friday, I should say.”

A lot, you wanted to say. You’ve realized you’ve fallen in love with a boy who was your best friend, said boy has snuck onto your roof and confessed his love for you, you’re both set to ‘break up’ with people you aren’t even together with, and all the meanwhile the boys girl has started a lie that has now spread throughout the ITZ house.

Nothing has been said to Yunho or Tori as of yet, you were meeting Tori for lunch after your noon classes so you would tell her there. The video had to still be up on Chan's profile, those things lasted for twenty four hours. She was a liar, Mina was. Though you can’t piece together at the moment why she would lie about something like this. Chan is her brother, and he’s apparently been through many struggles in his lifetime.

Your father has been through many struggles in his lifetime, never once do you ever use his shit as an excuse for your behavior, nor would you ever use his shit as a way to warp people’s minds, their feelings. The beings in both houses knew little of your dad, aside from Yunho, Tori and unfortunately Wooyoung. You’re sure Mingi knew a little something, he’s dating Tori, but you don’t care what he knew. If he’s trustworthy enough to date Tori, he’s trustworthy to know who and what your father is.

Mina’s pretty, she’s smart, she comes from a good family. Why would she lie?

Pulling out your phone you open a thread of messages and type away.

[you]: we have to talk about something questionable

It took him three seconds to respond.

[youknow everythin]: This is how you answer my good morning text? What did you just wake up?

[you]: i’m at blend i have a class in thirty

[you]: i’m sorry i didn’t answer, i read it before i got in the shower

[youknow everythin]: Take me in the shower with you, duh

[you]: you are such a boy

[you]: any mina updates

[youknow everythin]: She’s hurting. I told you last night what she was saying, her brother and all that. I got the full run down. She was keeping a lot from me this summer.

You tried real hard to not let those words tug at your heart.

[youknow everythin]: You know what it made me think of? That psych thing or whatever it is, the invisible child thing? Where one childs needs are so great that the other kid kind of goes unnoticed? But… Not totally unnoticed, they’re just more self sufficient? I feel like that’s Mina. She just needs someone to see her.

That made your stomach feel weird.

And not because of his last sentence.

Because you understood.

You didn’t have any siblings, but you had to grow up pretty self-sufficient.

[you]: damn i didn’t think of it like that

[you]: makes me feel like a bitch for what i’m about to say

[youknow everythin]: Tell me

“You are so out of it,” Theo said, handing the beautifully decorated coffee over to you. With whipped cream on the top he swirled caramel around it. Looking up at him, he gave you a smile and stepped away from the counter to take care of another customer who had appeared beside you while you were focused on your screen. 

“I’m sorry,” you sighed.

[you]: i think she’s lying about her brother

“The drama never ends,” you whispered, picking up the coffee to take a sip of it. It was equally sweet as it was caffeinated. “Oh my god,” you groaned after a swallow. Theo smirked over his shoulder. “I’ll text you the money,” you said, tapping away to open his messages, but he stopped you.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, flipping the other person's coffee over to shake it. “Someone left you an allowance. I think you’re good for the rest of the semester to be honest.” He chuckled as your brows rose. “You have another friend down at ATZ, and I assume he’s told you all about me.”

“Soul,” you mumbled, and Theo shot you a look that did little to warm your heart. “Yeah, he, uh, he told me.”

Popping a lid on the small sized cup in his hand, he slid it over the counter to the person next to you and muttered, “Three eighty seven,” and took the cash as they handed it over. “I don’t want to tell you to stay away from him,” Theo said to you, giving the person their change, “He’s really not that bad of a guy.” Shifting back over to your side of the counter, he leaned over on his elbows and looked up at you. “He’s just been through some shit.”

Rolling your eyes, you sipped your drink and tried not to laugh. “Seems to be the theme of the day.” Theo flattened his lips into some sort of smile. “What was her name?”

He closed his eyes and released a breath. “Soojin.” When his eyes met yours he laughed at your pout. “Don’t, it’s okay. She was a year below me in school, they had another year of high school together, I was here, it wasn’t a big deal.”

With another sip, you tried to hide behind your straw when you asked, “When did it happen?”

Theo smirked, assessed his surroundings and the little people that were inside his cafe. “She was a senior, he was a sophomore, I was a freshman trying to get into the prestigious ATZ. I was upset when it happened of course, she and I were still dating, but, when you really look at it, what kind of senior in high school takes an interest in a sophomore…”

“Oh my god,” you sighed, your eyes going wide. Theo grinned.

“Yeah, so I ended that quick,” he nodded once, standing up to clean up behind his counter. “And, I made sure Shota was okay, even though he was all smug about it. He was sixteen, he had every right to think he was hot shit for sleeping with a senior, but brotha’ was a victim.”

Soul’s dark eyes that never seemed to have a thought behind them came to mind, and you were gutted. “Tae, oh my god,” you said and he shrugged, wiping down his machines. “He told me that you hate him for it.”

Theo huffed a laugh, then hung his head for a few seconds. “If that’s what he wants to believe, I’ll take it. I don’t hate him,” he turned to give you a look. “He’s impressionable. Don’t take this the wrong way, but he’s not… all there,” he came closer to you. “His parents are… were… kinda messed up. You can’t tell him I said any of this,” Theo pointed at you, his eyes going stern.

“Promise,” you whispered, holding up a hand.

Theo tapped his fingers on the counter, watching them for a moment. “He was in therapy for a while.”

“Weren’t we all?” you attempted to lighten the air, smiling, and he laughed.

“I guess at some point,” he breathed. “I mean, I was after my parents got divorced, so… No, but, Shota, he’s been into a lot of things kids shouldn’t get into. This ability for him to… attract… that kind of attention, like with Soojin, I don’t know, it’s…” 

“His eyes,” you whispered, and Theo never looked at you faster. Sheepishly smiling, you said, “He’s been following me around for a little bit now, Tae. He showed up to ITZ one night.” Theo’s eyes shot open wide. You nodded. “Yeah, he’s persistent. I can kinda see why he’d so easily coerce someone… Not saying that’s what he did, or has done, but… Yanno?”

Theo thought about it, then asked, “So, you were catchin’ a crush?”

“No,” you said, hushed and rushed. “I have way too much happening to have a crush on a freshman. That makes me Soojin, just many years later.” He smiled, popping his brows. “And, now that I know he’s your little brother? That’d be weird. You and I were dates at Date Night last winter, my allegiance is to you, Taeyang.”

“I’ll never forget Wooyoung's face when we got picked,” he said, and you both shared a smile. “He was pissed.”

Names were chosen at random between the sorority and the fraternity, pairs made for the night. Date Night, one of the more exciting events thrown between the houses, kicked off with a bang though neither house raised enough to put toward this current year. Still, it was fun, and you were paired with Theo who drank your required liquor when you couldn’t stomach anymore. The two of you danced, you laughed, you hung out with Tori and Yeosang, her randomly chosen date, and you partied until the next morning. 

The kicker… You were strapped together at the wrist. You physically could not leave your date alone, and if someone else wanted to talk to you, you had to talk to their date, too.

Vernon was paired with Isla.

Yuna and Jongho were matched up.

Ryujin and San.

Chaeryeong was paired with a senior, as well as Mingi, like you and Theo.

Hongjoong had a senior from ITZ on his wrist.

Seonghwa and Lia both had freshman recruits.

Yunho got lucky enough to have Mina follow him around.

And, Wooyoung had Yeji.

You could say that was the start of the downfall, that Yeji and Wooyung were paired up together, so who knows if that night they hooked up as well, but you’ve stopped letting the thought bother you.

“It was fun,” you gave him a small smile.

“It was.” He returned it. “Are you guys gonna do that again? I know that one’s like tradition, right?”

“Tori has it on the schedule,” you said. “She’s stuck it sometime in October now, I think around Halloween? It might land on her birthday, I’m not so sure.”

“Well,” he stood up straight, having leaned over the counter again, and slapped his hands on the vinyl. “If you get paired with Shota, keep an eye on him.”

“Think I might do that regardless now, Tae,” you said, lifting your drink a bit to signal your exit. “Thanks again.”

Theo smirked and watched you leave the cafe. “Thank my brother.”

september 23rd ~ monday ~ 1:47 p.m.

[youknow everythin]: Rory there’s nothing there though, we can’t just assume, can we?

“It was here yesterday!”

Sitting forward, you laid your phone on the table beside your plate and groaned in frustration. Tori, cross legged with her waves over her shoulders, watched you with a raised brow.

“He deleted it, he had to have deleted it,” you whispered, refreshing Chan's profile three times before giving Tori a look of dismay. “When we were at the library, he posted it.”

“It’s been a day, it’s not going to be there anymore,” she said, picking up her fork. “I want to believe you, though.”

Eyes bugging out of your head, you attempted to refresh the page again. “You don’t believe me? How?” When you met her eyes again the taste in your mouth went sour. “Tori, I’m not lying to you, I swear to God, she is lying to us.”

“What person would lie about their brother like that?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” you shouted, and many heads turned your way. The two of you were at a small table toward the front of the sushi restaurant you stormed out of over a week ago. “Yunho thinks she’s got that invisible child thing. You know, where they pry for attention, or something.”

Tori, sipping her water, rolled her eyes. “Listen, I want to believe you, Ror, but now that you’ve got this thing with Yunho, it looks like you’re trying to make her the bad guy.”

Right, she was still miffed about the whole situation.

“I know what it looks like, okay?” You squeezed your eyes shut. “I’m not trying to… Win the boy, or whatever it is you think I’m doing. I have the boy. It’s not about that.”

Tori sat back in her chair and folded her arms. “You do, do you?” You nodded and she pursed her lips. “Then, what is it about? If she is lying like you say she is, what’s the point of calling her out for it? Just let it go, all shit comes out eventually.”

She was right.

Letting her go back to her sushi, you swiped back to your messages.

[youknow everythin]: She has been giving me specific updates, Rory

[youknow everythin]: I don’t think she’s lying

september 24th ~ tuesday ~ 2:44 p.m.

In four days you and your sisters would be walking through the doors of ATZ with your recruits. The two houses would come together for dinner, an introduction of sorts, a welcome to the life type of night. There have been freshmen in and out of the house since yesterday morning, touring the property, meeting the board, sucking up to Yeji who spoke to them all with the fakest smile you’ve ever seen.

Standing in the foyer now, your new dark blue ITZ t-shirt on and tucked into the waist of your jeans, two girls walking through the door in sundresses caught your eye. Wide eyed and excited, they gasped to themselves as they gaped up at the ceiling, the two of them arm in arm, linked together. It reminded you of you and Tori. They joined the few girls already walking the first floor, taking in the photos on the wall, reading every description, every story that lived on the white paint.

Ryujin, in the same t-shirt, stood beside you. Nudging her side, you gestured toward the girls.

“Those are the two I met at ATZ,” you whispered. Ryujin scanned the group, then found them and squinted. “They’re freshmen, and I think they come as a pair. Can’t buy them separately.”

“Like you and Tor,” Ryujin mumbled, and you smiled. “My gaydar is going off looking at the shorter one, I can probably make some magic happen.” Fluffing her shaggy hair, she adjusted her shirt to be a bit more frumpy, letting it hang over the waist of her wide legged jeans. She was gone in seconds, flashing a sideways smile to both girls who shook Ryujin’s hand with caution. Sure enough, the shorter one let her eyes slip up and down the seniors frame, but that could mean anything. Ryujin was walking sex appeal, if you swung that way you’d be sneaking out of her room every morning instead of an ATZ bedroom.

Taking a quiet moment for yourself, not being bothered by freshman looking to kiss ass, you pulled out your phone and checked your messages.

[youknow everythin]: How's it going over there? These freshman are ridiculous

Smiling, you worked your fingers on the keys.

[you]: at least you don’t have to listen to a trillion female empowerment stories

[you]: think every girl in this house right now has told the same story

[you]: i think i love it though, they all have something to prove, it’s admirable

[youknow everythin]: Does it remind you of your recruitment? 

[you]: totally, i was coming from a single father who lived paycheck to paycheck, i had to be obnoxious and prove myself. i’m seeing a lot of yeji’s and chaeryeong’s in this crowd. money money money

[youknow everythin]: Same over here, lots of guys flashing their bank accounts. And why is everyone a business major?

[you]: hey, don’t diss

[youknow everythin]: Not what I meant <3 <3 <3

[youknow everythin]: Have you talked to Seonghwa about anything yet? I assume not because he’s been nice to me all day

[you]: no, we should just wait a little bit. shit isn’t hitting the fan right now, we’ll be better off later. you haven’t said anything to mina yet?

[youknow everythin]: Not with this brother thing happening. Plus, she's VP so she’s got a lot on her plate at the moment.

Glancing up at her now, the Vice President, it was written on her t-shirt that she tucked into her denim skirt. Jeans were the dress code for this day, but apparently any denim was acceptable. She was smiling ear to ear while she spoke to a group of girls that gazed up at her with starry eyes. Admitting to yourself that it was impressive she was Vice President already, a sophomore, it didn’t make the feeling in your gut lessen.

Something was off.

It made you wonder if she heard your conversation with Tori the other day.

[you]: understood. keeping shit undercover

[youknow everythin]: It’s been hard to keep Mingi quiet. He’s so nosey. He wants to talk about us all the time.

[you]: us

[youknow everythin]: Us

[youknow everythin]: <3

“Great turn out today, don’t you think?”

Chills ran down your spine. Shoving your phone into your pocket, you turned over your shoulder and plastered a smile onto your face.

“So great,” you said. “I was just thinking about how there are so many like minded girls in here that have something to prove.”

Yeji pierced you with her fox-like gaze, attempting to look through you, into you. In all of the past weeks you’ve never had to be one on one with her, you’ve only had to deal with her in meetings. Her ombre hair curled perfectly laid over her shoulders, tucked behind one ear, showed off the diamonds she was wearing in her lobes. In her t-shirt and skinny jeans, she topped off the fit with strappy black heels and thin silver and gold bracelets on her wrists.

“Like minded?” Yeji asked, letting her eyes leave you for only a second to take in the group. “Explain.”

Swallowing, your mouth had gone dry, you nodded. “Their grades are fantastic, first of all, which you know to me is the most important of all.” Yeji narrowed her eyes. “But, the stories they’re telling us, what they’ve gone through to get here, some being told they’ll never make it to this school, that they’ll never get far… And, they’re here.” She bobbed her head, and smiled once you said, “It makes me think of Mina.”

“Does it?” she questioned, taking a peek at her second speaking with the girls.

“It does,” you whispered. ��Everything with her family, yanno? She’s here, at Nasara, and she did that for herself. It’s incredible. I mean, even Isla, she wanted to do something for herself and she’s-”

“Leaving us in a day or two,” Yeji muttered, and your heart stopped. Taking in the shock on your face, she nodded, her stone cold expression never changing. “Don’t worry, she’s not being kicked out. Her brother has been in contact with us. He’s going to come get her, she needs his help. I’ll be sharing the news with Ryujin tonight, so if you could do me a solid and not tell anybody?”

Looking for the senior, the unsuspecting girl laughing it up with the two girls you met at the party, the walls seemed to tighten around you a smidge. She had no idea she was losing her roommate of the last three years. The two met on this day, Ryujin a sophomore, Isla a freshman. They clicked, they understood one another, they became best friends. Ryujin has done so much for Isla within the last year, and now she’d have to go through her most important year alone.

“She’s withdrawing?” you asked Yeji.

“She’s done,” the president nodded. “Withdrawn from classes, from the sorority, from Nasara entirely.”

“Where will she go?”

“With DK,” Yeji shrugged. “We don’t have the ability to help her here. She needs her family. That’s important, you know that, right? Family?” The look she gave you before she scampered away to greet some more freshmen wandering into the house was unreadable. 

february 14th ~ thursday ~ last semester ~ 11:21 p.m.

The ball hit the edge of the cup and bounced onto the floor, a choir of groans echoing throughout the crowded living room. Bumping into Tori, your pong partner, you grabbed onto her arm and voiced your own disappointment. Across the table, the two boys you were playing simply laughed.

“Leave us alone!” Tori shouted playfully. “She’s not good at this, okay, we know this!”

Blushing, you laughed aloud, too drunk to care that she had half roasted you while trying to defend you. “I suck!”

“You do, is that the best you’ve got?” Yunho grilled, wearing a devious smirk on his lips. Poking his tongue out the corner when you looked at him, he raised his brows and motioned toward himself with his fingers. 

Mingi elbowed him, smiling at his girl from across the table doused in beer and liquor. The room was dark, people in the crowd around you were using their flashlights on their phones to light up the table for you four. You were both down to the last three ups on either side.

“She doesn’t seem so bad, you guys are tied.” A voice that wrapped around your heart made you smile. Turning around you bump into Wooyoung who wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his chest. Bringing his lips to your ear he said, “Stand up straight, keep your elbows to yourself and throw without thinking too hard.”

Pulling away from him, he kept a hand on your back, he smiled at you and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. Following his instructions, standing up straight, you made eye contact with Yunho who now wore a scowl. Music flooded your ears, peoples shouts from everywhere in the house threatened to pull your liquor fueled brain elsewhere. Wooyoung took his hand around your waist and gave you a squeeze.

“Breathe,” he said, and you listened. “Look at the cup… Good.” You turned your chin to look at him and he laughed, using his other hand to maneuver your focus back to the table. “Look at the cup, baby, you can do this, prove them wrong, I know you can.”

“Don’t think someone’s allowed to touch the player while they throw,” Yunho called out, and Mingi laughed. Tori shut him up with a glare. 

Wooyoung curled his lip. “Shut up.” Moving behind you, putting both hands on your waist, he cradled his chin into your neck. “Throw it. Show them.” His lips ghosted your skin and you longed to drop the ball and spin around in his arms, but the way Yunho was glaring at you made you want to throw the ball at his head instead of the red cups waiting for you.

“Any day now,” Yunho complained, tipping his chin backward.

“Ro, shut this guy up,” Wooyoung said loud enough for him to hear. Smiling, feeling his hands press into your waist, you pulled your hand back and released the ball. It went into a cup and swirled around in circles, and the three of you on your end of the table cheered for half a second.

Yunho dipped his fingers inside and flicked it out, both him and Mingi laughing together. The crowd was impartial, no one knew who to be happy for.

“Are you kidding me?” Wooyoung spat, pulling you away from the table, planting his hands on the edge. Yunho raised a brow, a shiteating smirk on his lips.

“That’s the game,” he said.

“You’re a piece of shit, just let her have it,” Wooyoung said, throwing a hand toward the cups left in front of the boy many inches taller than him. “It’s one cup.”

Yunho glanced down, then scoffed. “Yeah, it’s one cup,” he parroted, and Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “She’ll get it again, though she’s missed the last ten shots.”

Tori circled the table and ended up somewhere around Mingi, her boyfriend craning his neck down to press kisses to her cheek. Waiting behind Wooyoung, not knowing what the hell was going to happen, you turned around and found San making his way through the crowd. Raising your hands in the air, you shouted for him.

“Sannie!”

His face lit up. “Ror!” Elbowing past bodies, he found your side and groaned. “Oh no,” he slung himself over your back when you turned around to face the table. “What happened? Why’s he mad?”

Pointing at Yunho, your best friend giving you two ounces of attention, scrunching his nose at San, you said, “He was talkin’ shit, I threw the ball like Wooyoung said, I made it in, but Yo knocked it out.”

San shook his head. “No, you’re kidding, shit move, Yunho!” He looked back at you and San at the sound of his name. “You always play girls like that?” 

Wooyoung smiled at San and held up a hand. “Hang on.” Pointing at Yunho, he said, “Own up to it. Or, you give me the balls, and if I make it in the other two cups, the girls win and you both forfeit for the night. I’m tired of seeing you both standing over here.”

Yunho and Mingi shared a look. From beneath his arm Tori said, “You don’t have to be a jerk, Wooyoung.”

Giving your roommate a look, he quirked a brow. “You wanna take their side over your own sisters? Damn, Tori, that says a lot about you doesn’t it?” San snickered behind you, his hands tangling over your chest. Wooyoung turned back to Yunho. “Balls,” he wiggled his fingers, and the boy obeyed, rolling them across the table. Clutching them both, Wooyoung rolled them in his hands and smirked. “I make it in those two, the ones she didn’t touch, they win. You’re done.”

Yunho crossed his arms and tilted his head back, the smug look in his face doing something to you. “Do it,” he scoffed. “If you don’t make it you have to leave for the rest of the night, how about that?”

Wooyoung threw both balls, one right after the other. They landed in both cups, the ones you didn’t touch, with a splash. The room lost their minds. Yunho and Mingi dropped their arms in shock.

Wrapping an arm around you, acquiring you from San, Wooyoung flashed them a sweet smile. “I was planning on leaving anyway.” And he whisked you out of the living room, leaving the boys dumbfounded behind you.

Barreling through people, both of you laughing, you babbling on about how crazy of a shot that was, you were seconds away from telling him he got lucky when he pressed you against the wall in the hallway, just short of the stairs. 

Almost nose to nose, he placed a hand on the wallpaper and the other to your cheek, dragging his thumb over your skin. He wore a smile, his lips closed hiding his perfect teeth. His hair hung over his forehead, the waves having been pushed side to side all night.

“Did you like the way he was talking to you?” he asked, letting his fingers dance into your hair, pushing it gently off your shoulders that were bare in Tori’s strapless top you borrowed.

Blinking, getting lost in the depths of almond eyes, you took a breath. “Who, Yunho?” Wooyoung nodded, the smallest gesture. “Not really, but it’s Yunho, he never really means what he says. He could talk all the shit in the world and then seconds later his mood changed.”

“It wasn’t cool, Ro,” he said, his hand taking to your shoulder, not dropping any further. “I didn’t like it.” His lips formed a pout. “He was talking about my girl.” Your cheeks warmed, and he smiled, flashing you his perfect teeth. His beauty was indescribable, you couldn’t put words to it. So unique, so undeniably gorgeous. He was a wanted man, and he was here in your arms.

“Your girl,” you whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips. “Since when am I your girl?”

Laughing to himself, he brought both of his hands over your neck, his hands taking to your chin, tilting you upward. His grip was gentle, everything about how he dealt with you was gentle. “I want you to be my girl,” he whispered. “But you get hung up on jackasses, just pay attention to me, Ro, these other guys don’t matter.”

Blinking a few times, you muttered, “Wooyo, I’m drunk.” Exhaling heavily, you wiggled in his grip and he let you go. “I pay attention to you, what’re you talking about?”

Having taken a step backward, his hands were to himself. “You do,” he said. “I just mean… Nevermind.”

This time you came closer to him, sliding your arms around his neck, pulling him in. He walked backward so he could lean against the wall. Taking his arms around your back, he gazed down at you, studying you, taking in every little piece of you.

“We can talk when you’re not drunk,” he whispered, dipping his chin down to brush his nose against your own. Whispering your agreement, he smiled, then tilted his chin and pressed his lips to yours. In mere seconds your hands were in his hair, holding onto him like he’d soon run away. You yearned to melt into him, to stay here forever with his lips on yours, taking your time as if it was the first time you’ve found yourself here.

He treated each kiss like it was fragile, like if he moved too fast the moment would end. Soft lips pulling you under, his tongue meeting yours to deepen it further. There was no rush, no hurriedness about it. By now one would figure you’d be pulled upstairs and stripped to nothing, but, not with Wooyoung. Not now.

Neither of you crossed that line. Neither of you wanted to, not yet. Though many, many make outs, like this one, have ended with sweaty skin and the need to change your pants, both of you, the drive to go further always pulled you both back. Wooyoung had always been quicker to stop it, to stop you if your hand fell to the button of his pants, or if you seemed to fall into some sort of conditioned way of moving about him. 

At first it was strange, him wanting to take his time, but for a couple months now you’ve both been reeling in the build up, in the excitement of what’s to come, the two of you unspokenly going about this thing like it were your first time ever.

“Aurora,” Wooyoung whispered, touching his forehead to yours. Looking up at him through your lashes you smiled. “So beautiful,” he kept his voice low, just for you. “Promise me,” he said, and you lowered your brows. “Promise me you’ll stay away from them.”

“Away from who?”

“Don’t let them pull you into their games,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s how this shit works, this life. They won’t stop until they win.” His hands slipped into your hair, pushing it away. Pausing, he studied you once more and kissed you. “They’ll snuff out anything standing in their way.”

september 25th ~ wednesday ~ 7:15 p.m.

[you]: hey, hope its okay tae gave me your number… you didnt have to do this, but thank you. i’ll blame you for the caffeine addiction next semester

[soul]: come to atz to thank me in person

[you]: too much to do, sorry friend. i’ll see you on saturday, right?? you used your brain instead of your wallet, yeah?

[soul]: yeah…… something like that.

[you]: good. keep it up.

[you]: do me a solid?

[soul]: anything for you

[you]: tell yunho to answer his phone if you can find him, he’s supposed to meet me somewhere and i think he’s drowning in books right now

[you]: hope those boys arent giving you too much of a hard time

[soul]: not at all :)

He was fifteen minutes late. That’s extremely unlike him. Yunho was a cluster fuck, but he was a punctual cluster fuck. 

The two of you were finally meeting at Blend. You had secured a booth in the farthest corner, not that the place was buzzing with life anyway. Away from the windows, away from the door. You weren’t looking to create any problems. All of your board members were busy situating girls to rooms anyways, all of the details needing to be mapped out by Friday morning when all of the new recruits would arrive.

Tori let you in on the secret, there were maybe ten at max that made it through all the way. There were only a couple set aside for now, needing a couple more details set in stone before they could move forward. 

Not needed around the house, actually trying to stay out of everybody's way, you were able to corral Yunho to agree to come out this evening. Unfortunately it looks like homework may win again, however. You wanted to unpack this month with him, unpack what had happened on the roof, discuss Mina when you both weren’t delirious and half asleep.

Sending him the second ‘where are you’ text, you locked your phone and tossed it to the table as the door to Blend swung open. Heart hoping it was Yunho waltzing inside with a hilarious apology, you’re surprised to see Seonghwa, in all black of course. He had his hair pulled back in a tie, hanging low on his neck. It took him three seconds to find you, his eyes scanning the room as if he smelled you the second he walked in. 

“Ror,” he said, his voice and his smile giving you some sort of comfort.

“Hey,” you said quietly, toying with the straw in your cup. Seonghwa gave the smallest wave, if you could call it that, to Theo, then he changed his course and came over to you, leaving the barista dumbfounded as his eyes followed him over to you. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know,” Seonghwa half laughed, sliding into the booth across from you, leaving his legs dangling out the side, his feet touching the floor. He slid his hand across the table and brushed his fingers over yours. “I’ve been feeling a little off, think I wanted something warm to drink.”

Raising a finger, letting him slip one beneath yours, you tilted your head. “Feeling sick?”

He shifted in his seat, swinging his legs underneath the table, his knees bumping into yours. His height was unreal. “No, not sick,” he muttered. “Just… off.”

Hooking your finger onto his, you pouted. “Is there anything I can do to help?” Nodding toward the counter where Theo worked behind it without a sound, Seonghwa glanced over there. “Get a drink,” you smiled. “It’s on me.”

Blinking once, he moved his eyes to you, then he released a laugh. “Now that I can’t do.”

“Why not?” you asked, watching him lace his fingers within yours.

“Because,” he whispered, his lashes fluttering as he spoke.

Leaning over the table, you lowered your voice and flipped your brows. “You helped me, now let me help you.”

Seonghwa mainted face. “Did I?” His voice was a whisper. Eyes sharp, the sudden vulnerability swallowed you. A lot has happened since you slept with him. 

At least it felt like a lot.

“I mean, yeah,” you said with a small shrug. Clenching his jaw he glanced at your hands.

“Then you won’t be upset if I tell you he went to see Mina tonight?”

You yanked your hand back, tucking it into your lap with the other. Nausea filled your gut, you could get sick in front of him right here.

“She’s been having a hard time, I've heard, they talk everyday.”

Gulping away the lump in your throat you dropped your eyes to the table and sucked in a shaky breath.

He told you he’d be here.

He promised you that you would talk, about everything.

He hasn’t said that word since he snuck onto your roof.

“Ror?” Seonghwa tapped one of his fingers on the table, pulling you from your thoughts that didn’t circle as much as you thought they would. It was simple. “You okay?”

Rolling your shoulders back, sitting up straight, you sighed and smiled at him. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Seonghwa tried to smile, but his lips could only crinkle as the corners lifted.

“You sure?” he whispered.

The space between your lungs tightened. “No,” you breathed, lifting your hand back onto the table, touching your finger tip to his. Seonghwa looked down at them for half a second. “I thought…”

He bit the bullet and folded his hand within yours again. “Tell me.”

The rub of his thumb over the back of your hand soothed the hurt. “Just thought I really had him this time.”

His brows lowered ever so slightly. “What do you mean?”

Tightening your grip on his hand, his thumb stopped moving. “Hwa, you can’t get mad,” you whispered, poking out your bottom lip a bit, praying your shining eyes would persuade him enough.

“Why would I be mad?” he questioned, his voice going deep.

“Because,” you said, and he narrowed his eyes. “Tori told me you do this… thing. Well, really, Mingi told her.” Seonghwa blew air out his lips and let his eyes close for a second. “I’m serious. You gave me a crazy ass hickey, Hwa. Apparently that means I belong to you.” Ignoring how his eyes darkened, you smiled when he did.

“A man can’t just do it ‘cause he likes it?” he snickered, shaking his head. Shrugging your shoulders, his thumb resumed its dance over your skin. “Ror, you don’t belong to me. Did I love our night together, fuck yes, you know how to ride a dick.”

“Hwa!” you giggled, glancing around the cafe, taking a peek at Theo making a drink behind the counter for a customer not present. He didn’t hear him.

“You're cute when your cheeks go all pink,” he mumbled, bringing your attention back to him. “When did you guys happen? At the next one?”

“Jesus, Seonghwa, I’m not an animal.”

“I am,” he smirked, getting the exact reaction out of you he was hoping.

Calming your smile, you squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head vigorously. “Stop,” you laughed, “I think it was like a week after, or something. You picked me up and brought me to the party where it all… went to shit, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“No, it’s not your fault, come on.” Wiggling your hand in his you forced his eyes to yours and you smiled what you could. “I should’ve listened to you.”

Seonghwa took a breath and adjusted himself in his seat. “I mean,” he smirked, “Technicaly you did, I said fuck him.”

Laughing with him, you groaned. “Bad idea. Bad idea.”

“It was?” he asked, leaning forward. “I thought you really liked him.”

“Unfortunately I think I do,” you said. “But, at the same time, and I said this to Tori… I don’t know what that feels like.” Seonghwa zoned in his focus and slowly nodded. “I’m… attracted and all that, but I don’t know what it feels like to… be in love with somebody.”

“Love, sheesh,” he muttered. “Who uses that word anymore?”

“Yunho,” you whispered, giving him a sheepish look, one he raised his brows at. “Yeah,” you sighed. “Don’t spill that to anybody. I trust you.”

Seonghwa smiled. “I know you do, that’s why you let me-“

“Stop,” you cut him off with a wide smile, your tone singing a song. Laying your other hand on top of his, you took a deep breath. “We’re not gonna talk about that, okay?”

“Okay,” he said with a bow of his head.

The door to Blend opened, not nearly as confident as when Seonghwa came in. Turning a bit to peek at who it was, your nerves shook themselves awake.

He didn’t see you until he was at the counter, grabbing onto the small white cup that Theo slid over to him.

“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa said loud enough to get the boy to turn. He wore a leather jacket, one hand shoved inside a pocket, and dark blue denim jeans. The shirt on the inside was black.

Kicking your foot into his shin, you shot Seonghwa a glare. Wooyoung turned, confused as hell, but once he processed it was the two of you, you swore he rolled his eyes.

“Since when did you come here?” Seonghwa asked, sharing an equally confused look with his brother.

Wooyoung sipped his drink and lifted the cup in answer. “I’m here every Wednesday night. Last semester I was here every Tuesday night.”

“And the semester before that?” you questioned, slightly teasing him. He moved his eyes over to you and you felt the earth shake beneath you. Both of you were sober, facing one another for the first time since the end of last year.

“I was here every Monday night.” His gaze hardened.

“Why?” Seonghwa twisted his brows, looking the boy up and down. Wooyoung took two steps closer to the table.

“‘Cause,” he started, lowering his chin, balancing his cup in his hand against his bottom lip.

“Chai tea,” you mumbled, and both Seonghwa and Wooyoung looked at you. The boy across from you raised an eyebrow. “And Blend has the honey your mom uses at home.” Glancing at Wooyoung, he watched you. Subtle shock lived in his face, but he wouldn’t show it.

“You remember that?” he asked quietly.

Nodding with a shrug, you said, “Yeah, you told me about it when she called you to yell at you about your psych grade last year.” Seonghwa, in awe, released your hand. Wooyoung took notice.

“Why these specific days though?” Seonghwa shook his head.

You spoke before either of them could. “It means his hardest classes are today…”

It took you a couple seconds to work up the courage to look at Wooyoung again, but you did, and you found him thinking, his brows pointed and his eyes somewhat soft. Parting his lips as if to speak, he bit down on his bottom one instead and turned to walk out the door, telling Theo, “Thanks, Tae, I sent the money.” 

Seonghwa’s eyes were on you, hot. The moment the door was closed and Wooyoung was gone, he started to laugh.

“Don’t start,” you whispered, looking up at him.

“How can I not?” He shook his hair and sat backward. “That was entirely too adorable, Ror. Remembering his order? Remembering why he came here? You’re a real lover girl, aren’t you?”

Averting your eyes to the table, you pushed your drink aside, feeling too sick to drink anymore. “I just remember,” you shrugged. “It’s important to me. Remembering. Especially things like that.” You looked at him. “If you care about somebody, you tend to remember those things.”

At the word care he scrunched his nose.

Your phone buzzed on the table, both of you glancing at the screen that lit up with Tori’s name. Beneath her message was one from Yunho. Picking it up, you opened his first.

[youknow everythin]: Oh my god, I forgot. Rory. I’m so sorry, holy shit.

You flickered your eyes up at Seonghwa momentarily.

“What happened?” he asked.

He went to see Mina tonight.

“Nothing,” you whispered, focusing back on your screen.

[honey sweetie light of my life (no she didn’t make this her own name in your phone)]: get to the house NOW

[honey sweetie light of my life (no she didn’t make this her own name in your phone)]: ryujin losing her shit hurry hurry i cant get her to stop yelling at yeji

[honey sweetie light of my life (no she didn’t make this her own name in your phone)]: isla is gone, no one knows when she left, her stuff is gone

“Seonghwa, I gotta go,” you mumbled, barely giving him another look, leaving him at the table. Not a word was spoken elsewise. He let you go.

It took ten minutes to walk back to ITZ. Placing a hand over your racing heart, you barreled up the stairs and paused. Through the door, through the walls, Ryujins voice echoed into the outside. It sounded like things were being thrown, there were voices on voices and bangs on bangs.

Pushing the door open you’re greeted by a shoe falling to the floor in front of you from the second floor. Shutting the door with your back, you snapped your neck up and found the back of Yeji, standing against the railing with her arms folded over her chest. The shouting was coming from up there, Ryujin.

“YOU NEVER SAID SHIT YEJI! She’s GONE, where the FUCK did she GO!?”

Bending to pick her shoe up, finding many more littered about the floor, a hand grabbed your wrist and stood you up. Tori, eyes wide and brows high, shook her head and gestured toward the upstairs. “Don’t bother, she launches them back down. Yeji’s dodged almost every sneaker she owns, if we bring them back we’re only supplying her ammo.” She pulled you toward the stairs, out of the way of unidentified flying objects.

“What the hell is happening?” you asked, keeping your voice low. Ryujin still screamed, every profanity possible. Turning to Tori, she cringed. She had been crying, her eyes were glassy. Glancing upstairs, the other girls were either in their doorways or on the other side of the staircase, out of the way of Ryujin’s rage.

“Isla’s gone,” Tori whispered, the tears welling up in her eyes. “All of her things are gone, all of her belongings, her furniture, it’s gone. There isn’t a trace of her in that room. Ryujin came home from class and lost her shit.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” you muttered. “No one’s tried to stop her?”

Tori gave you a look. “That’s her best friend, Ror. If this happened to you, and I suddenly disappeared, wouldn’t you freak the fuck out?”

Your heart sank. “Suddenly? What do you mean suddenly?”

She shrugged, a few tears falling down her cheeks. “No one knew, she didn’t tell anybody.”

“Who?” you whispered. Tori gave you another look, her brows meeting in the middle of her forehead. 

“Isla,” she sighed. “She didn’t say anything, she just… left. Quietly, too, no one knows how she did it.”

Gritting your teeth you took a breath and turned your attention to the senior on the second floor telling Yeji exactly what she thinks about her, and the president was unmoving. Still, not frozen, but still, Yeji watched her. Watched her scream, watched her sob, watched her throw whatever she could at her, and she didn’t say a word.

Now you could be sick. Now you could fall to the floor, your knees weak. Grabbing onto Tori, your best friend wrapped a hand around your back, laying her chin on top of your head, sniffling. 

Yeji knew how she did it. Yeji knew how she left. She knew when she left.

And so did you.

september 28th ~ saturday ~ 6:00 p.m.

Twenty five boys stood on the front steps of the ATZ house. Most of them wore smiles, and neatly buttoned shirts and pants, their hair styled to perfection, standing tall as you and your sisters approached the porch. Whispers moved through their group, the boys excited, and hungry. They had outdone you. ITZ was only bringing ten more girls.

Nineteen of you. There would’ve been more, but those girls you met at the party, and some others, didn’t make it past the cut. Turned down, Yeji signed five letters telling them they weren’t eligible for advancement into the sorority. You weren’t even able to protest without exposing to Yeji what you’d done, having attended the party, and met them in the kitchen when you were plastered. As much as you’d love to have those girls here with you, have them add a little more muscle to your sisterhood, this past month has been too much. You couldn’t risk anything at this point.

Tori, beside you in a little white dress, she slid her arm beneath one of yours and smiled. Her boyfriend was on the porch, standing in front with the original nine of ATZ. He’d already spotted her, the way he teetered back and forth on his feet shifting his weight while he waited patiently for her to find him entirely too adorable. They hadn’t seen one another in a few days, none of you have been here for a few days, both houses have been too busy preparing for this moment, and thankfully so.

Yunho stood next to Mingi, his shirt buttoned in totality, unlike his best friend who left the to one undone. The corners of his lips were turned up. A smile of sorts, but he seemed nervous. His eyes gave him away. The text he sent you Wednesday night, before rushing home to calm Ryujin- which you did- you never answered. He’s sent you a message everyday since, only two, you didn’t get one today, but it didn’t matter.

He forgot to meet you, or he was lying like his stupid girlfriend and he went out with her instead, comforting her and her allegedly real situation. For days she’s moped around the house, taking longer to talk on the phone, hanging around Yeji more than she’s ever had. She’s even taken Tori from you on a few occasions, and your roommate would come back in twenty minutes with some sort of update, telling you that Mina wasn’t feeling any better about the situation.

If she was telling the truth, she had every right to be upset. You understood that more than anybody. You’d go days without hearing from your dad sometimes, it was scary, even if you knew they were coming back. Some days it felt like they never were. Since he’s been back from his work trip in Contramano you’ve heard from him twice. A text when he returned, and then the shortest video call so he could see your smiling face.

Some days you wished you could tell him everything, that he’d be the kind of dad who would listen, and understand. Maybe he’d even give you some advice, tell you how to handle the shitshow you were swept inside of, but no. He’s taught you how to wear false emotion on your face and gave you the skill of juggling multiple situationships at once. Like you, your father didn’t know what love was. You like to think he gave you the best he could, that whenever he told you he loved you, that you were his everything, that he was telling the truth.

Maybe that was enough. The two of you trying your best to be the best people you could be for one another, knowing that at the end of the day it was just you and him. He didn’t want anything to happen to you, and though you longed for him to be detained maybe just one more time so he’d change his life, you didn’t want anything to happen to him either. He did try his hardest to be the best dad, and you could admit you gave him too much shit, but he couldn’t blame you for that. Your father has been through hell and back, a hell that he’s somewhat protected you from, a hell that he’s been learning from. Almost.

Old habits die hard.

Hongjoong stepped down from the porch with his head held high, extending a hand toward Yeji who stood at the front of your group. Smiling, his confidence exuding him, he took her hand and shook it, bowing his head as he did. Yeji returned his smile, matching his energy, and smiled. They exchanged a few words between themselves, the presidents moving with poise and juxtaposition. Hongjoong in a dark suit, his jacket buttoned with no shirt beneath it, and Yeji in a baby blue dress, her hair curled and her skin covered properly. Two halves of a whole, their knowing eyes reading one another with a careful tenacity. No one could deny their power, their own energy almost too much for themselves.

Up on the porch on the other side of the stairs stood Seonghwa, a being most of the girls behind you whispered about. A being that could have any girl in this group. All he’d have to do is point to one, and he’d have them crawling up the stairs. But, his eyes were on you, gentle and soft. When you met them he smiled. Trying to return it, your eyes fell to Vernon standing in front of him.

Brows low, his eyes were sharp, on alert, scanning your group from left to right, and back again. He tilted slightly side to side to get a glimpse of some of the girls hiding behind others. He was looking for something. Someone. When he met your eyes he questioned you with a raise of his brows, the action so small it’d go unnoticed by someone out of the know. Shaking your head, pulling your lips into a frown, you could feel the hurt that cracked his usual stoic expression in half.

Quickly composing himself, he glanced away, focusing on Hongjoong who turned back to his house, but then he narrowed his glare and shot it toward Yeji. Beside him, Wooyoung put a hand on his arm and whispered something to him. The boys spoke back and forth for a second while Hongjoong introduced himself to your sisters and new recruits, Wooyoung taking a peek at you every now and again while Vernon whispered to him.

Yeji introduced herself to the boys on the porch, the majority of the newbies visibly drooling over her. Some took their time with each face, marking their prey before it even stepped through their door. Soul was up there, leaning over the railing to the left of Seonghwa, his two freshman friends with him. The cocky one, Jongseob with his eyes set on Tori, and the shy one, Intak, who wore a smirk, eyes set on a girl somewhere behind you. 

Soul had his eyes on you. Smiling at him, his smirk deepend and he stood up straight, ripping his eyes from you to look at your president.

Both houses recited their mission statements for one another, whipping you into shape quickly, pulling your attention off the boys, and then, you were in the house. 

Dinner for the most part went smooth, to plan, as it should have. The boys let you and your sisters into the house first, their greetings respectful and kind, likely the doing of Hongjoong and Seonghwa. It was how they all moved through dinner as well, respectful and kind, treating the nineteen of you like important guests in their home, serving you, proving themselves. Soul had been the one to bring you a drink, something without alcohol in it.

That was for later.

This was all an act.

The recruits with you expressed their shock, their surprise that the frat house wasn’t a mess, not dirty in the slightest, and you wanted to let them in on a secret, but figured they’d see it soon enough. As soon as the clock struck ten the house flipped over.

For the majority of dinner Yunho kept to himself, hanging around Yeosang who gave you nothing more than a smile, though he hugged Tori. The first of many questionable things to happen within the hours before the party started.

Yunho didn’t say hello, he was actively trying to keep his eyes off of you. Finding something else to occupy him if the two of you got too close, usually another boy or a plate to clean up or a drink to fill.

Seonghwa checked in with you, noticing how Yunho avoided any interaction with you. In front of a group of his freshmen following him around, Soul included, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled. Soul made sure to touch your shoulder, giving you a shake before they walked away.

Vernon hovered in a corner focused on his phone for most of the dinner, his nails finding themselves between his teeth as he tried to listen to people speak, the higher ups giving tours and sharing makeshift speeches with anyone who’d listen. He couldn’t even entertain the ATZ freshmen when they’d ask him about baseball, he was totally disconnected, and he hadn’t been able to get you alone to ask you what had happened, at least not yet.

Tori and Mingi hung onto one another with class, answering the freshmen’s questions of ‘Are you together?’ with smiles and happy nods. Mina found herself beside them often, Mingi now involved in the comfort Mina project.

Wooyoung hung around the outskirts of the dinner, like he would at any of his parties this semester it seemed. A complete change from how he’d act in the past, outgoing, loud, the center of attention. It didn’t click with you until you heard your friends speak about not being able to find him when they’d come here, that he’d hide. Hide, or just know how to not be seen. Even on social media he’s gone quiet, only the occasional post going up to his story, nothing big, not since that first party when he got you in trouble.

Hongjoong walked around with Jongho, the two of them seemingly becoming partners in crime this semester more so than Hongjoong and Seonghwa. The pair were almost comical, the muscle behind the beauty, like a bodyguard, stopping anybody if they got too close to his president. The sophomore did find himself with Yuna at some point, her chocolate brown curls melting his hardened exterior in seconds. Sharing a job, Yuna would often argue, since last year, that they spoke mainly about work, but the eyes never lie. There was something there.

San, well, he was San. A polite dinner party would not stop him from waltzing around the house without a care, taking after his president, wearing no shirt beneath his suit jacket that he unbuttoned as the night drew on and on. Shamelessly flirting with anybody who’d entertain him, not even knowing he was flirting, he accidentally collected a following, boys and girls alike who some would fall victim to later on.

Somehow you collected your own following. A few of the ITZ recruits found it comfortable at your side, asking you questions about the house, about the boys whenever one would pass by you and shoot you a wink. Ryujin accompanied you, lingering close by with a scowl on her face, and rightfully so. She didn’t want to come tonight, but contractually she had too. Avoiding Vernon for now, she unspokenly clung to you.

When the clock did strike ten, however, everybody changed. The entire house flipped over, and it happened fast.

Red cups littered the place within the hour of the party starting. The lights were shut off, the music had been turned up to a volume one had to shout over, and boys jackets and girls sweaters were draped over any furniture in the vicinity. Pong tables were going in the back of the living room, shouts coming from there, Mingi and Tori’s included. Both you and Ryujin didn’t know what to do, sipping your first drinks of the night, gathering some of the girl's belongings that had been strewn about, you weren’t sure whether to chaperone or drink away your sorrows.

As the first hour progressed, Ryujin decided on the latter. Flopping onto a couch amongst the brothers and sisters chattering away, dancing around the living room, she requested a full cup from an ATZ recruit and he obliged. At least you’d know where to find her, but now this meant you were on your own.

september 28th ~ saturday ~ 11:23 p.m.

“How is Yeji okay with any of this?” Vernon said, walking with you toward the living room, dodging drunk recruits wandering to the kitchen latched to one another's arms. Glancing over your shoulder at the boy and the girl laughing, you sighed.

“It’s tradition,” you suggested, giving him a shrug. “But, it’s funny though, right? She can ban us, but then allow everybody to run free tonight. It’s a tease to these new girls, they’re gonna be so disappointed.”

Taking up a spot on the vacant stairs the two of you sat side by side, Vernon sipping from his cup, his first and only of the night. You were on your second, taking your time, not wanting to be delirious for the whirlwind that already was this night.

“You know,” Vernon started, looking over into the archway of the living room. 

San was on the back of the couch, shirtless, with his tongue down an ITZ recruits throat. You believed she was a sophomore so you didn’t feel the need to run in there and put an end to the way her hands ran over his muscled chest without a care. Even if she was, you weren’t Yeji. The fun would commence, but you’d still keep a watchful eye over your sisters, old and new.

Vernon shook his head. “I don’t even remember what I was gonna say,” he turned to you, “I thought this night was gonna go one way, but it’s gone the exact opposite since you guys got here.” 

Twisting your cup around in your hands, you took a breath. “I know,” you said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” he mumbled, knocking back what was left in his cup. “I just don’t know why she wouldn’t tell me she was leaving.”

Thinking about that night and Ryujins freak out, you circle back to the day before, when Yeji told you that Isla was withdrawing from Nasara and leaving with her brother. It was supposed to make sense, it should make sense, but for some reason, like the rest of the vague bullshit that occurred around here, it didn’t.

“She didn’t tell you anything at all?” you asked, and he shook his head, his brown curls dancing on his forehead.

“Nothing,” he nearly whispered. “I mean, I get it, she doesn’t owe me anything, we only hooked up once and she leaned on me for help, even though I genuinely wanted to help her…”

Letting him vent, you smiled once it was over. “She was still your friend, Vernon. That stuff hurts, and her not telling you that she was leaving should hurt.” He bobbed his head, letting it hang. “When did you guys… If you don’t mind me asking? I didn’t know you guys were like that.”

“Me either,” he admitted with a huff. “She, uh, showed up at my practice Monday night, and you know my coach keeps me late because of the scouting and wants to make sure I’m ready before I go up to triple A. She stayed and watched me hit, watched me work first base, bullying me the entire time- though she has no right ‘cause her brother is a pitcher and I am not, but whatever,” you both laughed, “It was really late, she helped me get my stuff together, followed me into the locker room which she’s done before, but… Something about this time she just… She got me.”

“I’m going to ask you something, please don’t take it the wrong way, okay?” you said, and he nodded. “Was she sober?”

“Completely,” he spoke fast. “Trust me, Ror. Wouldn’t have let her undress me if she wasn’t.”

“You two were really out there living every high schoolers fantasy,” you said with a giggle. “Sex in the locker rooms after baseball practice.”

He shared in your laugh for only a second. “Yeah, and now she’s gone.”

“You can always track her down,” you offered, bumping him with your elbow. “Instagram? Text? She’s with her brother, work your baseball magic and get her.”

He looked at you, his eyebrows lowering over his big brown eyes. “She’s with her brother?” A tiny spark of nerves ignited in your chest. “How do you know that, you’ve heard from her?”

“No, she hasn’t talked to any of us.”

His tone was slowly turning sharp. “Then how do you know she’s with her brother?”

“Yeji,” you whispered, unable to lie to his pretty face. “No, Vernon, wait!”

Leaping from the stairs, Vernon dropped his cup to the ground and barreled into the living room, ignoring your shouts for him to come back. Following him, jumping onto your feet, a hand landed on your shoulder before you could cross under the archway.

“Let me go,” you spat, turning around in haste. “Oh,” you sighed, and the spark of nerves turned into a flame. “What do you want?”

Yunho parted his lips as you tugged your shoulder from his grip. “Can I talk to you?”

“I don’t think so,” you said, and he scrunched up his face. “Go talk to Mina.” Spinning around to follow after Vernon, Yunho yanked you back again. “Let me go, Yo!” Facing him, he tried to put both hands on your shoulders but you swatted him away.

“Rory, can I just-”

“She said to let her go.”

Shooting a glare over your shoulder, Yunho dropped his hands to his sides and said, “You think you really have room to speak here?” Backing up from between them, you glanced at Wooyoung who glanced at you at the same time before piercing Yunho with his glare.

“A girl just told you to take your hands off of her twice, Yunho,” he said. “You think Hongjoong would be pleased to hear that?”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you Wooyoung, you really think he’ll listen to you?”

Wooyoung smiled. “Regardless of what my supposed reputation says about me, what all these people will say about me, never once have I ever been involved in a situation like the one you’re presuming I’ve been.” Yunho clenched his jaw. He caught a glimpse of you, but you were locked in on the boy speaking. “Maybe I’ve done some shitty things, but I know basic respect and consent.”

“Wooyoung, it was only this once,” you muttered, and he looked at you, his eyes swallowing you whole.

“It doesn’t matter, Ro,” he said, his tone calm as he spoke to you. “This is how it starts.” Gesturing behind him with his head, telling you to move along, you listened, and heard Yunho protest as you wandered off into the living room.

“Aurora! Aurora!” San shouted at you from the couch he was on, the sophomore in his lap now, waving for you to join them. There were bodies around them, everyone talking over everyone, taking shots they’d pour with any of the multiple bottles of liquor on the table in the center of the furniture, offering you one as you stepped over their bare legs and sweaty bodies.

“How the fuck did this turn into this so fast?” you breathed, taking the cup from an ATZ recruit, flopping onto the sofa beside San who slung an arm around you. Pressing the cup to your lips you gulped down the, you think, vodka, with a cringe.

“You’re not drunk enough,” San said, grabbing the sophomore by the waist, lifting her with him as he reached for the bottle on the table. She yelped and giggled, grabbing onto him in some way to stay on his front. In the extremely dim light you could make out her pretty face and the several purple marks on her neck from San already. “Why are you not drunk enough? There’s no rules tonight, Ror. Look at what’s happening.”

“I’ve seen what’s happening, Sannie, half of our recruits are being corrupted by yours,” you smirked and he laughed, pouring straight vodka into the cup you held out for him. “You’ve taught them well.”

“I haven’t taught them a thing,” he said, giving you a look. “They came that way. It’s not our fault every single one of you is fuckable.” Twisting the cap on the bottle he tossed it to the other side of the couch and settled his hands on his girl's hips, digging his fingers into her curves. “You know, your girls aren’t totally innocent, they know what they’re doing. They want it too.”

Sipping the liquor, you licked your lips and leaned into him, your noses centimeters apart. His breath hitched in his throat, his eyes darting down to watch your tongue. “It’s not our fault every single one of you is fuckable.” With parted lips, he sighed.

“Wanna join us?” he whispered, poking his tongue out to wet his lips. Honestly weighing the possibilities, the liquor doing nothing to keep you logical, it was possible. “Holy fuck, Aurora,” he muttered. San had an unnatural ability to figure you out, to figure anyone out. It’s how he always got what he wanted, most of the time. That and his physical appearance alone.

“Find me after I finish another drink,” you whispered, and he started to smile. Reading your mind, he met you in the middle and kissed you, your tongues moving in between it all. You’ve kissed him before, once on a dare, and then again on your own. It was all purely platonic, a fact he knew as well.

Ryujin, still planted on the couch across from the other with a girl on her lap now, she watched the three of you.

“Wait, are you serious?” he asked, calling after you as you parted from him and rose from the couch.

Sipping from the cup, you shrugged and said, “Don’t know yet, just come find.” Winking at the girl on his lap smiling at you, you spun around and continued your venture through the house, almost tripping over feet and shoes thrown about, giving them their moment back. If tonight went to shit, if you ended up with nobody, which you were somewhat hoping for now that you were on drink number three, you could possibly want to end up with San. For nothing more than just pure fun.

Tonight was a night for that, for fun. Legal, allowed to be having, type of fun.

Approaching the archway into the second half of the living room, you almost froze. Yeji was coming toward you, her eyes on watch, patrolling the property. As you passed one another her smile grew, and it was anything but comforting like your president's smile should be. It was menacing, the liquor twisting it into something to be afraid of.

“There she is, Ror!”

That was Soul’s voice. Escaping from Yeji you turned to follow the freshmans call, finding him holed up in a corner with a few others, his friends included.

“Come here,” he said, waving you forward with his hand not holding a can. Wandering toward him slightly sideways, he laughed and shook his head, holding open an arm for you to tumble into. “Where’ve you been?”

“Around,” you said, sipping your drink. Soul gave a look to Jongseob to his left and smiled.

“What are you drinking, babe?” he asked, taking the cup from you easily, tipping his chin back to take a sip. “Jesus,” he groaned. “Straight?”

“No, gay,” you said, narrowing your eyes and the boys around you laughed. Soul smirked, pressing you into his chest for a few seconds. “Here’s your fuel.” Handing the cup back to you, he watched you take a bigger sip this time around. “Where are you on your way to? Seonghwa?” Two of the boys snickered, Jongseob and Intak. Turning in Souls arms you gave a look to Jongseob, but then took your time with Intak, watching him clam up beneath your interrogation. 

He wore a suit tonight like the rest of the boys, his hair styled neatly on top of his head. His white button up beneath the black jacket was slightly disheveled, a few buttons undone from the top, not like it was hours ago. Holding a drink, he sipped it and blinked feverishly, his cheeks flushing as you pushed yourself out of Souls arms and wobbled over to him.

“Intak, catch her,” Jongseob muttered, and the boy listened, holding open his arms. Latching onto him, you smiled up at his brown eyes. 

“Is this the chick you were telling us about?” An unknown voice said from behind you. One of the boys they were standing here with. Twisting in Intaks arms, pressing your back to his front, giggling at how he tensed, you found the stranger's face and audibly sighed, expressing your contentment with his appearance. Curly ginger hair shamelessly let his eyes roam about your body.

“Who are you?” you asked. “I’ve never seen you before.”

The boy looked into your eyes and smiled, his even more charming than Jongseobs. “Jiung,” he said, and the name flowed off his tongue with grace. His suit was tailored perfectly to his form, showing off exactly what you’d get beneath it.

“Damn,” you breathed, laying your head onto Intak’s chest. “Why are you all hot?”

The boys broke out in laughter, making you smile. Intak slid an arm around your waist, keeping you close to him.

“Yeah, this is the chick you were telling me about,” Jiung said to Soul.

Looking at him, you asked, “What’s that mean?”

Soul faced you, put a hand on your cheek and pinched your skin. “Don’t worry about it.” Sharing a look with his friend that you pushed your ass against, he raised a brow. “Remember what you said about Intak?”

“I do,” you said. “How could I forget, Soul, he’s so cute.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, with a smirk, “So are you.” Soul’s smile was satisfied. Looking at Jongseob you said, “And so are you, and you.” You added a glance to Jiung as well.

“Aurora, where’s your friend?” Jongseob asked, ignoring your compliment. “The tall one, brown hair, big eyes… Boyfriend.”

Your brows shot up. “Tori?” you snickered, putting your hand over Intaks, sliding it higher on your torso. Soul and Jiung watched it move, both shocked and disappointed you stopped before it reached your chest.

“Yeah, Tori,” Seob’s eyes flashed with something dark.

“Me?” Her voice was heard before she was seen, and in a flash she was glaring around at the boys and snatching onto your wrist, pulling you off of Intak. “What’s going on here?”

“We’re just talking,” Soul said, tucking his hands behind his back. Intak shoved a hand into his pocket quickly. Tori looked him up and down and scoffed.

“You guys are disgusting,” she sneered. “Welcome to ATZ, you fit right in.” Her eyes found Jongseob last, and when he winked at her her entire body reacted, shivering as she held onto you. “I can have Mingi over here in seconds.”

“Do it,” Jongseob challenged, and Tori’s eyes shot open wide.

“Leave me alone, Seob,” she said, her tone packing a punch. “Come on,” she said to you. “How are you messed up already, who’s making you drinks?”

Watching her while the two of you walked toward the back of the living room, rather, while Tori supported your body weight as she walked toward the other room, she didn’t seem all that drunk. She could hold her drinks better than you could, that was a fact, but at this point in the night she’d be a giggling mess under Mingi’s arm.

“Are you drinking?” you asked.

“Of course I am,” she said. “I’m just not drinking fast,” she glanced down at you. “I didn’t think you wanted to get drunk tonight.” Moving around the crowd around the tables focused on the dual games going on, Mingi towering over the crowd around one end, Tori maneuvered you onto one of the leather couches pushed against a wall. A couple of other girls sat close by.

“Not drunk,” you mumbled, and Tori sat next to you with a laugh.

“Okay, then what are you?” Her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Horny now,” you said, laughing and she slapped a hand to her mouth, holding back her own laugh. “Have you seen all of these boys?”

“I have,” she said. “Jongseob has been flirting with me all night, and unfortunately he’s really good at it. I’m seconds away from telling Mingi to stand in front of me for the rest of the night.”

“Where have you been? In here?” you asked, taking a bigger gulp from your cup, almost finishing the liquor in it. Tori nodded, her eyes scanning the room.

“Me and Mina were playing over here not too long ago,” she said and your stomach sunk. “She’s still upset, I’m trying to keep it fun for her tonight.”

The light feeling your drunkenness was giving you fell flat, like you just crashed through several floors of a building. “She’s a liar.”

Groaning, Tori tipped her chin back. “Don’t start with this, Ror.”

“No,” you said, a little louder. “I think I will start with this, ‘cause it’s all… screwy, Tor.”

“How?” Your best friend pressed her lips together and put her hands in her lap.

Holding up a finger, you said, “First of all, I saw that video, her brother is at home.”

“Okay?” Tori shrugged. “Maybe he was missing that morning, and then he came back home. She can still be upset.”

“For this long, though?” you questioned, twisting on the couch to face her entirely. “Get over it already, man, it’s been a week. I once didn’t hear from my dad for a month, you think I let that hang over me once he came back? No!”

Tori tilted her head, sliding a hand over your leg. Not picking up on her attempt to comfort you, you continued.

“And, not for nothing, but it really seems like she’s milking the whole thing. Her brother had problems, we know this, don’t we all have problems?”

Tori glanced up behind you, behind the end of the couch and sat up straight. “Ror, hang on, Ror.” Grabbing onto a hand she held out to you, you shook your head. “No! She’s, like, using it for attention. Who in their right, conscience mind would use their own brother for their own personal gain? He has problems, Tor, and she’s using them to her advantage. My god, she’s already Vice President, what, does she want to take Yeji’s job? No one wants Yeji’s job. Either way, she’s lying!”

“Aurora,” Tori whispered, her eyes wide. “Stop talking.”

“Everyone wants to shut me up,” you grumbled, messily slipping out of her grip. “Can’t do anything, or anyone in this place without being burned at the stake for it.” Standing to your feet you turned to walk out of the room, but froze in place. 

Her eyes were as wide as Tori’s, but not as full of shock. Instead they were pointed, and angry.

“You think I���m lying?” Mina spoke through her teeth.

Downing the rest of the contents in your cup, you dropped it to the floor and started to smile. “I don’t think you’re lying, I know you’re lying.”

“Aurora,” she said. “You think I would do that?” Nodding without a care, you crossed your arms. “Why?” Breathless, she spared Tori a glance who stood up behind you.

“Because,” you started, then laughed when Yunho conveniently appeared behind her. “Of course,” you threw a hand toward him, “Thanks for showing up.” Looking at Mina you pointed at Yunho. “That’s why.” 

Mina looked at him, her brows screwing up on her forehead. “What!?” She whipped her head back to you, her bob swinging beneath her chin. “You think I would lie for Yunho? He has nothing to do with this.” The boy's eyes shot open, catching on.

“Not for him, Mina, to have him,” you said, speaking slowly, chopping up your words like she was a child. “You need his attention so bad that you’ll lie to keep it, ‘cause you have some sixth sense that tells you that he’s been-” “Aurora!” Tori shouted, taking your wrist, tugging you backward.

Mina grit her teeth. “You’ve been jealous since last year, Aurora.” She threw a hand behind her to touch Yunho’s chest. “He would tell me all about it.” 

You met his eyes, his worried, anxious gaze.

“The complaints, ugh,” Mina rolled her eyes, looking up at him. “Don’t deny it, Yo. Remember in the summer?” She looked at you, her glare hot. “You wouldn’t leave him alone, Ror, it was pretty desperate.” 

You felt like you’d been kicked in the gut. Yunho couldn’t say a word, he could only watch his world burn in front of him.

“I’d have left him alone if he told me he was with you,” you spat, testing your limits in Tori’s grasp, attempting to lunge forward. “Your boyfriend didn’t tell me a thing.” Mina shared a look with him.

“Aurora, don’t you dare say anything you’re gonna regret,” Tori whispered to you. Some people had their heads turned toward you and Mina’s shouting, watching the scene take place. “Don’t be stupid.”

“You know he complained about you too, Mina,” you said, cocking your head to the side. Grinning, you laughed aloud. “Is she why you always needed two rounds, Yo?” Something flashed across her face, but you couldn’t read what. Yunho, though, looked like he’d been shot. “He’s been fucking me since May, Mina,” you curled your lip. Her face went unchanged. Gasps were heard around you. Lunging in Tori’s hold again, you laughed. “He kisses you but he’s inside of me.”

Tori attempted to walk away with you, but your feet dug into the floor. This was entirely too much fun, better than joining San and his latest conquest into his bedroom. She spoke to someone behind you, but your ears were ringing, you could hear your blood pumping.

“Just wait till you get him like that,” you said. “If you ever get over yourself and let a boy touch you.” Stumbling over your feet you headed toward the archway with Tori. “Ask him to get on top, you’ll love the face he makes!”

september 28th ~ saturday ~ 1:10 a.m.

[hbic]: She confessed. Straight up. Word for word.

[seonghwa]: What the fuck, now what? If she outed herself, no sense in us doing it all over again.

[hbic]: Yeji is expecting it from us. I’ll tell her what happened. Will let you know what we’re doing.

september 28th ~ saturday ~ 1:13 a.m.

“Stay here.” Tori’s tone was stern, her hands firm on your shoulders as she propped you in the corner of the empty kitchen. Everybody danced about the living room, or the hallway, even the upstairs. There wasn’t much for them here except for a quiet space. “You’re insane, Ror, insane.” She hurried from the corner, your voice stopping her for a few seconds.

“Where are you going?” you asked, peeking at her from around the fridge. Her hair flipped over her shoulder, her eyes ablaze.

“To clean up your mess.”

Laughing as she walked away toward Mingi waiting in the doorway glaring at you, you attempted to run through what had just happened, what you threw in Mina’s face, what you had done to you and Yunho’s relationship, and you couldn’t comprehend it. You couldn’t figure out why you did it, why you said what you said, but it felt really good to say it to her face. To finally be rid of a secret that was becoming too heavy to carry. Last you heard, he was with her anyway. He could comfort her if she was upset, if she was hurt. Though, she didn’t show much of that.

She didn’t show much of anything.

Sliding down to the tiled floor, your smile dropped, and you took in the quiet. A sound so loud, even with the bumping of the music across the house. Alone with the room spinning, you took a shaky breath and felt the familiar lump in your throat.

“Why am I gonna cry?” you mumbled to yourself, attempting to blink away the tears welling up in your eyes.

Don’t cry, you thought. She deserved it.

You suppose Yunho deserved it, too. This whole time, bouncing back and forth between the two of you, even if he made the whole thing out to be him not so interested in Mina, and very much interested in you. Your closest friend of almost three years now, playing you like a fool. Confused, because it didn’t seem like he wanted to be playing you, you’re reminded of what you thought of when Mina was telling you about how good Yunho was that first week back.

Yes, him.

Yes, Yunho.

You should’ve taken your own advice.

Tears fell steadily now, staining your cheeks, falling onto the sundress you wore. You could’ve stopped it, you had all the power in the world to put an end to you and Yunho, but something kept you going, and you’re not sure if it was him or if it was your own fucked up perception of love. He spoke empty words, and you took it like he was giving you the stars from the sky. Depth didn’t exist. He didn’t remember. He never remembered.

You took his crumbs and were content with starving. For what?

“Ro?”

Lifting your head, going dizzy, you tried to wipe your cheeks but it was no use, the tears were replaced in seconds. Blinking, you found Wooyoung making his way through the kitchen, a certain hurriedness in his walk.

“You’re gonna make this worse,” you cried, squeezing your eyes shut.

He paused in front of you, squatting down. “Ro, I don’t want to make it worse, I want to help.” His voice mimicked the way he was just walking, quick and rushed, all while trying to stay calm.

“Why do you want to help me?” Opening your eyes, he wore that face he’d give you months ago.

“Because you’re really drunk,” he said carefully. Reaching out a hand, two of his fingers touched the hem of your dress and tugged it over your legs where your knees were pulled into your chest. “You don’t have to like me, you can hate me all you want right now, but please, just trust me. Let’s go outside.”

Sliding your legs out straight, your feet touched his ankles. Sighing, you shook your head and let out a cry. “It’s because of you.” Wooyoung raised a brow. “You did this.”

He held back his smile. “I got you trashed and on the floor of the kitchen?”

Holding back your own smile, you sniffled and whined. “It started with you, all of this, you’re why it’s a mess, you’re why this is happening. I was trying to get over you, and I made a mess.”

Glancing away for a second, Wooyoung held out a hand and released a breath. “Okay, let me make it up to you then, please. Come outside with me.”

“Why?” Giving him a look, he returned it.

“Because,” he said, looking toward the entrance of the kitchen. “There’s people who aren’t nice in this house.”

“And you are nice?”

Wooyoung sighed, shaking his outstretched hand he wanted you to take. “I’m trying to be nice.”

Scoffing, you shook your head. “Nice for what?”

He took a breath and looked you dead in the eyes. “Because you may have gotten over me, but I am not over you.”

He may as well have sucker punched you in the chest. You couldn’t feel your body. You were drunk, but you were not expecting those words to come out of him.

“I don’t believe you,” you whispered, and he cringed.

“I don’t expect you too, not after what you’ve been through,” he muttered, shaking his hand for the last time. “Not after what they’ve put you through.”

What?

“I told you, Ro,” he said, his voice tiny. “These people will snuff out anything standing in their way of what they want. They will get what they want, that’s why we need to leave.”

“What are you talking about?” Finally taking his hand, he sighed in relief and helped you to your feet, but it was too late.

“Oh, good,” Yeji said, turning into the kitchen with Mina and the rest of the board, from both houses, behind her. Even Tori. Even Yunho, and Mingi. “You’ve got her, good work, Wooyoung.”

He shook his head and moved in front of you. “No, I didn’t get her, I didn’t find her. We’re leaving.” 

Hongjoong, with his hands folded in front of him, laughed. “I don’t think so.”

“Aurora,” Yeji took the attention back. Peeking at her from over Wooyoung's shoulder, you stepped to his side and tightened your grip on his hand. Tori’s tear filled eyes glanced at them, then let out a quiet cry. “Something has been brought to my attention.”

Taking in the other girls, Yuna was in shock, her hands planted to her chest. Chaeryeong and Mina though, they were smiling. Tori clamped a hand over her mouth and looked at Mingi for help. Her boyfriend could only shake his head. In disappointment? In disapproval? You weren’t sure.

“What has?” you asked, hoping to play dumb, but these girls were smarter than that. Yeji was smarter than that.

Towering in the archway, Seonghwa hung his head low, piercing you with his gaze. Jongho stood behind Hongjoong as usual, wearing some form of shock like Yuna. Then Yunho, jaw tight, eyes glassy, he couldn’t look at you.

“Not only have you broken a brand new rule that’s been set into place, you’ve also broken the trust of several members of both houses,” she took a few steps into the kitchen. “Not only that, but it’s been going on for a while. Since we’ve been back, is that right Mina?” She glanced over her shoulder and the sleek brown bob gave her a nod.

“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, throat tightening. Grabbing onto Wooyoung's arms with your other hand, you pressed your fingers into his skin. A few recruits wandered up behind the board members, curious. “I promise, I didn’t mean to.”

“That doesn’t matter, unfortunately,” Yeji said, a ghost of a smile haunting her lips. “There are consequences.” She shifted her eyes over to Wooyoung and batted her lashes. “Wooyoung, you’re not needed any longer, you can leave.”

Your heart burst into pieces. Tears thickened, you let go of him, but he didn’t let go of you. Looking at you, Wooyoung gulped, then shook his head.

“No,” he said, and Yeji’s demeanor faltered.

“Wooyoung,” she said, her voice dripping with venom. He shot her a look and fully laced his fingers with yours.

Shaking his head again, he said, “No.” Taking a few steps forward with you, he said, “Let us through. We’re leaving.” Jongho stepped around Hongjoong, coming closer to the two of you. Wooyoung looked up at him and snickered. “Come on, man, let us through. I don’t feel like making a mess of anyone's kitchen tonight.”

“Wooyoung,” Yeji snapped. “Let her go, and leave the room.”

He half listened to her. Taking his hands off of you, he clenched his jaw and walked up to her. Entirely vulnerable before all of them, you wrapped your arms around yourself and dug your nails into your skin.

“Good job,” Yeji smiled at him. She lifted a hand to touch the bottom of his chin. “Your work here is done.”

Smacking her hand away before it could touch him, Chaeryeong gasped and Mina narrowed her eyes as Wooyoung opened his mouth. “It is, Yeji. My work here is done. I’m done playing your game. I’m done being a puppet.”

“Wooyoung,” Yeji whispered, her fists clenching at her sides. “Watch it, you know what’s going to happen.”

Looking back at you, Wooyoung shrugged. “I think it’s pretty worth it.”

“You don’t even know if she’ll want you,” Yeji said, her voice never breaking. “You’ll lose all of this,” she gestured to everyone behind her. “You could make it out of this with nothing, or, you could walk out of here with us on your side. You take your pick.”

He smiled at her. Looking at his brothers, he nodded. Hongjoong stared him down, his eyes flickering to Yeji for a few seconds. When Wooyoung turned to come back to your side, you let him take your hand. He was wearing that face again. That I care about you face.

“Wooyoung,” Hongjoong almost shouted.

“You have several other pawns to play with,” Wooyoung snapped at him. Then he looked at you. He made sure you were looking at him when he nodded. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and you couldn’t feel your knees. “I want you to believe me, but I understand if you don’t, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Last semester,” he started, and the nausea must’ve been apparent on your face because he slid a hand over your cheek as tears fell. “What you thought happened? What you think we did? Me and Yeji?” You took a shaky breath and he brushed away tears beneath your lashes. “It didn’t happen. It never happened.”

The boys in the archway whispered to one another, turning into a circle while Yeji, Chaeryeong and Mina watched them, waiting for something.

“What?” you gasped, eyes shooting open wide.

Wooyoung nodded. “It wasn’t real. It was made up, it was a lie. I never slept with her, she made it seem like we did.” Making sure you kept your eyes on him, he squeezed your hand. “Aurora, I was hurting. You were clearly in love with him, and I was watching it happen. I wanted to give you… everything. I’ve never felt like this about somebody, ever, and I barely even had you.”

There weren’t any words you could piece together to give him any sort of answer. Beside yourself, you could only coach yourself to take deep breaths.

“I fell into their game, and it was easy to do, you know what everybody thinks of me,” he said, and that hurt your heart more than it should. “I don’t understand how I’m sluttier than San, but that’s besides the point.”

“What’s the point?” you whispered.

Wooyoung took a breath. “You were supposed to be the president, Ro.” Your legs almost gave out. Moving his arms to your waist, he held onto you. “She paid them off. They wanted you. The others wanted you. When the houses came together to decide who’d move up, who’d get the spot, your name was on the list.” He gestured his head toward the archway. “They still have the fucking papers, I’ve seen them.”

“Tori,” you whispered, and Wooyoung listened. “Tori knew? Yuna?” You both lifted your heads to look their way. Chaeryeong, Mina and Yeji joined the group of boys. Tori and Yuna were against the wall, holding onto each other. They didn’t know. Your best friend pleaded with you with her eyes to believe her. Mingi moved from the group, his own eyes wide, joining his girlfriend who pushed him away.

“Ro, they wanted to get you out,” Wooyoung whispered. “I’ve been watching all of this happen since last semester. I know that makes me not a great person right now, I could’ve told you, but there was a lot at stake. A lot that I’m not afraid to risk right now, because this is ridiculous.”

“What is it? What’s going to happen?”

“He’s done, Aurora,” Hongjoong said, loud enough to cut into the bubble you and Wooyoung were creating around yourselves. “He’s out. No more ATZ for Wooyoung.”

NU home ✧ nice for what masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ thank you for reading <3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.