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tainsan · 10 months

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misfits: II (college!ateez x reader)

{a/n: thank you so so so much for the support just after the first chapter! i am so grateful for all of you who have been reblogging and sending in feedback}

do not steal my work or repost on places other than tumblr.

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-----THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT-----

⇢ master list ⇠

previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter

warnings: not really anything, just a little bit of swearing.

word count: 6.2k

“No radius is half of the diameter; did you not pay attention in high school?” You say exasperated, half laughing half scowling at the black-haired male situated in front of you.

“I was too busy denying my sexuality in high school,” Minho says rolling his eyes, causing a boisterous laugh to erupt from your throat.

“You do know you’re not supposed to be here?”

Minho snuck into your advanced calculus class earlier saying he was bored, and Jisung was in a Finance class, where the teacher isn't too keen on letting random students into his lectures. Luckily you were close to the end of the lesson, meaning your professor was partially done, letting students talk among themselves whilst he does God knows what on his computer.

“It’s not like any of our professors remember our faces. I think I’ve had Bartley for three years in a row and he still thinks I’m a freshman.”

You snort at his remark knowing he has a point. The teachers don't get paid enough to remember every student anyways.

“You need to study more, how are you going to open your own business if you don't know the basics of math?” you question, joking slightly.

“I have you for that. Plus, it’s not like I want to become one of those smart-ass CEOs, I just want to open a nice dance studio far away from this goofy place.”

“That’s still a business Min, and it would help to know math so you can at least calculate your revenue.”

“Yeah, but I don't need to know the radius of a circle for that,” he once again rolls his eyes mockingly, causing a chuckle to emit from you.

“Touché Lee.”

Minho winks at you cheekily, then looks at his phone that had just vibrated notifying a message. His eyes widen hugely, causing your curiosity to spike.

“Girl, not to alarm you but Bin said there’s someone looking for you.”

“Why would that alarm me?”

Before Minho can get another word out, the large wooden door to the entrance opens widely, and in walks a guy wearing all black, glasses perched across his nose. The entire room goes silent, and you swear you can hear your own heartbeat. Leaning towards Minho slightly, you mean to ask why it has gone so silent all of a sudden, but you cannot get the question out as the man in black soundlessly makes his way toward where you and Minho are situated, walking up the stairs.

“__, right?” the nameless man asks as he reaches you, his voice breaking the thick silence in the room. Immediately, whispers sound across the room from almost everyone. Starting to feel self-conscious of the sudden attention on you, the familiar feeling of a heavy heart residing in your chest. You momentarily wonder why he even asked for your name if he knew who to go to in a class with over thirty students.

“Come with me?” The request is said as a question yet the tone he uses is harsh and demanding, as if he is not giving you a choice to say no.

You look at Minho, confused yet you see the same confused expression on his face, yet the look is definitely more prominent on his. You probably would have laughed at the expression on your friend's face if it were in a different circumstance.

“Okay let’s go,” Minho says, helping you grab your books off the desk.

“I wasn't talking to you,” The guy says slightly rudely, looking at Minho with a piercing cold glare. Minho, looking offended starts to stand up, puffing his shoulders and advancing slightly towards the man in black. Chattering and whispers spur around the class, someone even gasping audibly.

“Minho, it’s fine, just wait here.” You grab his hand and pull him back to his sitting position gently. The small action not going unnoticed by the mysterious man, who looks between the two of you, almost as if he is analyzing the situation. As you stand up, the man dressed in black heads for the exit, not sharing a glance with anyone who ogles at him.

‘Goofy ass’ you mumble under your breath as you start your walk towards the exit. Not missing the way countless eyes are on your form, you trudge out of the door, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden interest in you. You ponder in your head why on Earth this man has so much attention all of a sudden like he is a celebrity or something. Rapidly closing the door, you rest your eyes and take a deep breath to calm your racing heart, you rest against the closed door behind you, breathing steadily you slowly feel your nerves go down. You open your eyes when you’re ready and see the strange man to your right, resting his left side against the wall body turned towards you. Quickly, you scurry to gain your composure and turn towards the man watching your movements like an eagle. He has a sharp nose and high cheekbones, his gaze intimidating. If you weren’t so confused, you would probably think he was very handsome.

“So, uh what did you want?” you question, cringing at your scratchy voice due to a dry throat. Almost scoffing, the man rolls his eyes and passes you a water bottle that was conveniently resting in his hand.

“Um, thanks.” You say, feeling the heat rise up your neck.

“You need a place to live right?” He says bluntly, staring at you whilst you take a swig of water. Almost choking on said water, you bring your hand to your mouth and try to keep the water from coming out. Why does this random stranger know your life?

“I’m sorry, I don't know who you are, how do you know I need a place to live?” you reply when your mouth is free of liquid. For some reason, the tenseness on the man’s shoulders seems to loosen a little, almost as if he is relieved and you don’t fail to notice the slight change in his behavior.

“I’m friends with San and Jongho, they told me you lost your apartment.”

You are hit with a realization, and then things seem much clearer, without you knowing a smile comes to your face thinking of the two sweet people you had tutored a few days ago. This smile does not go unnoticed by the male opposite you; he even feels somewhat happy you are smiling whilst thinking of his friends, not scowling or cowering like other people would do.

“Um, I’m Hongjoong, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to uh have a look at our place, we have a room open.” Hongjoong introduces himself, stumbling on his words, you recognise his name, yet you have no idea where from. It seems a stark contrast to the scary image he was showing less than thirty seconds ago, now he is nervous and fairly restless, fiddling with the rings on his fingers and unable to make eye contact for more than three seconds. Feeling hopeful about finding a new place, your mood perks up immensely.

“Seriously?” you inquire, a hopeful smile adoring your features. Hongjoong seems to look surprised at your reaction, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink and his eyes widening, quickly he coughs and continues the cold expression on his face.

“But wait…” you trail off, remembering the whereabouts of their accommodation, “as much as it would help, you guys live in the richest area near here, and I would never be able to afford it.” your eyes droop as you look at the floor, upset that you yet again have to go on dormfinder.com for an affordable place to live.

“We are more than happy to pull some strings, I’m close to the landlord.” His words are still calm, but this time rushed.

“I really appreciate the offer, Hongjoong. I just don't see myself living there, even if you were to pull strings, my student loans barely cover the school funds let alone a place in Eastwood.”

“Your parents do not offer help?” Your breath catches in your throat, and you feel your eyes start to sting, which does not go unnoticed by the male.

“It’s just me.” You reply, your voice sharp. Seeing Hongjoong flinch slightly at your sudden harsh tone, you are quick to apologise.

“Maybe you could just have a look?” Hongjoong’s eyes stay hopeful as he peers down at you. The height difference isn't huge but still to the point where you have to lift your head slightly to meet his callous eyes.

“Look I don’t have time to be browsing through places that are out of my league, I truly appreciate it Hongjoong, but I just can’t.”

“My mother is the landlord, I already spoke to her about it and she’s happy with you staying for five hundred a month, as long as you are clean and keep the house in order.”

His words take you aback. Four hundred was the price you were paying for your old place, it’s not cheap but it's still a good price, especially for such an amazing place. Yet you are more taken aback by the fact he has already consulted with his mother. Was he so certain you were going to say yes that he already made a deal?

“I thought rent there was at least six thousand, what’s the big catch?” You are interested but keep your hopes low, you don't want to get ahead of yourself and potentially harm your heart.

“My roommates can be, well um messy, loud, and a little overbearing.” Hongjoong admits he sees your brow furrow slightly, “But we are friendly, fun, we will respect your space and never make you feel uncomfortable.” He rushes on his words again, almost as if he’s trying to sell a product. “It’s a lovely place trust me.”

“Who do you live with?” You inquire, if you want to even think about moving in you need to know who your roommates would be.

“Are you familiar with Ateez?” Hongjoong is slow and cautious with his words as if he is treading on thin ice. Your eyes widen, and you feel your heart start to race again. Hongjoong is quick to notice this and waves his hands in front of you, dismissing what he just said. Even though you may have had good experiences with the men you know as Ateez members, you don’t know if you could get involved with them after what you've heard about them. Not knowing if you can trust them, you are hesitant to accept the offer. But then again, rumors are deadly but mostly not true. You know that better than anyone.

“We aren't as bad as people perceive us; I swear.”

Now this confuses you even further. Hongjoong is another person in Ateez? Part of you believes his words, yet part of you believes your best friend. They are a selfish, cold, heartless group with no care for others' feelings. Even the way Hongjoong is presenting himself is on character, even whilst offering you the deal of your lifetime, his image is scary and cold, his words nothing more than blunt and harsh. But then again, your encounters with the rest have so far been so different and confusing. The way Hongjoong is quick to convince you that they aren’t bad people, or at least as bad as people say, leads to being even more baffled.

“No, I wasn't thinking that I was just honestly confused why you guys would ever let anyone who isn't a part of your group live with you. Why are you even doing this in the first place?”

It takes a moment for Hongjoong to reply, your words hovering around the both of you. You can almost see the cogs turning in his head as he processes his answer. Looking as if he is debating whether or not to answer, he looks at you and then around him, looking to see if anyone is watching. Slowly, he decides to answer, his sharp, cold image melting away.

Hongjoong takes a swift step closer to you, his breath fanning against your face as you look up at him. Heart pounding like it’s about to explode, the sudden closeness between our two bodies makes you small, only about a foot separating him from colliding with your tense form. His eyes are a harsh contrast to the cold, lifeless expression he previously held up, now they are soft, and kind and you feel your body loosen up as you get lost in the warm gaze of his deep brown eyes. His eyes feel so frequent as if you’ve stared into them before.

“You were the only one ever who was truly kind to us. Please, just have a look, ___,” his voice is no more than a mere whisper and you can feel your heart in your throat. Never having someone this close to you, speaking so softly, is new and you aren't sure if you like it or not. The look in Hongjoong’s eyes both comforts and unnerves you. Before you can even register what has happened, his body is back in the same position as previously, his cheeks turning red and momentarily regretting his sudden uncontrolled actions.

“I'll tell San to message you the address,” Hongjoong’s cold stare is back as he departs toward the general exit of the building, leaving you to fan your face and take deep breaths to calm the pounding of your heart. Glancing down at the water bottle in your hand, you are now even more confused than you were at the beginning of the week.

What the fuck?

----

Laying on your back, facing the ceiling, millions of thoughts run through your head as you try to decide. Next to you resides your phone, lighting up the dim room, with the messenger app open. Sighing, you pick your phone up one more time to reread through the message for the nth time.

‘Hey, here’s the address for our place. San’

Peering at the profile picture of the contact, the corners of your mouth turn up as you see a cute photo of the animated character Kuromi sleeping. It actually suits San well. You remember when you were with him at the library when he saw your phone case of the Sanrio characters. It seems funny that he has the same characters as his profile picture now. Curiously looking at his profile, you see, the picture was changed six days ago. Just after your tutoring session, it’s probably just a coincidence. As you’re staring at the picture and getting lost in your thoughts, another message notification appears on the top of your screen. This time, it's from Yeji.

‘hi girl, I really don’t want to rush you but my new roommate is moving in tomorrow, you can maybe sleep on the sofa for the time being but you really need to find a place, my landlord isn't happy about you living here rent-free.’

Groaning, you throw your phone down against your bed once again, bringing your hands up to your eyes to wipe away the stinging sensation rising in them, your stomach feeling uneasy from this whole situation. Every free hour and minute you have, you have been searching for cheap apartments close to the school, yet the only one that you even managed to find was almost twenty miles away and you do not feel like using public transport at ungodly hours in the morning.

Glancing at your phone once again, you feel conflicted in your head. You know that the boys you have met of Ateez wouldn’t be mad at you for not showing up, yet you feel like you are obligated to. Yes, the place is cheap and only about a ten-minute walk from campus and a fifteen-minute walk to Jisung’s. But it's the idea of living with the Ateez that spooks you a little bit, not really knowing what their true identity is. ‘Fuck it’ you think, what have you got to lose. Throwing yourself off the empty bed, you rush to the suitcase of your clothes to find something somewhat presentable to wear. Settling on one of the three outfits you now have, due to the rest being burnt to a crisp, you pull it on and hope that it at least looks good to them. ‘Why do I care what they think?’ you suddenly think to yourself, not wanting to have to worry about impressing them with your looks. Hurriedly grabbing your necessary belongings, you bolt out of the door, excited and both nervous. You just hope the entire group isn't there to analyse you.

----

Strolling through the long street full of large white brick houses, you feel exceptionally out of place in this insanely rich area. You’re not even sure how you ended up here in the first place and you just know Jisung would smack you if he saw where you were heading. Maybe it was the impression Hongjoong left on you, you still see his warm brown eyes whenever you close your eyes, his soft expression as he moved closer to your body. The way he spoke so softly and tenderly. You haven't even begun to unpack what he said, not knowing what he meant by you were the only one kind to them. Maybe you unknowingly lent them a pen in class? That doesn’t seem like a big enough gesture for them to invite you to literally live with them. Maybe Hongjoong likes you, you think to your self grinning giddily. Smacking your head gently, you remove the grin from your face and try to divert your thoughts from the handsome man, realizing he would never like you like that, let alone want to be your friend. Looking for the number 2410, you scan the houses as you walk from place to place. They are all beautiful detached houses with a large porches. Before you know it, you see the large number appear in front of you, the house seeming much more intimidating than the others, perhaps it's because you know who lives there and who is potentially inside. The walls of the house are white, the roof light blue, with large windows adorning the front and sides. Walking up the driveway and towards the porch, your heart gets heavy with anxiety, realizing the situation you are about to get yourself into. I just hope none of them pull a stunt like Hongjoong did, anything is better than getting your heart swooned again by another handsome male, which just so happens to be all of them so far, fuck. You really don’t have time to be falling for the ‘bad boys’ right now. Surely they won’t get angry at you if you show up and say no to the offer, right?

Reaching the front door, you hesitate to ring the doorbell, your heart attempting to jump out of your throat. When your finger reaches the button, a loud, long ringing noise is heard within the walls of the home, which breaks you out of your semi-unconscious thinking state. You step back slightly, to make sure you’re not right next to the door when it opens, not wanting to be up in the face of the person who opens it if they open the door. Gripping onto the strap of your tote bag for dear life, you silently hope that there is nobody home, but then hope there is someone home, then hope there is not. You heavily debated at this moment whether you should just run away from the door and pretend it was some kid ding dong ditching. Moving away slightly, you get ready to run for your life, when all of a sudden your hopes are shattered and you hear the click of the lock signaling the door to be opened, and you’re met with the top of someone’s head, clearly, he’s more interested with whatever video is playing on his phone.

“Unless you’re selling some of those delicious red velvet cookies, can you kindly piss off, please and thank you.” The door goes to close, yet you quickly stop it by speaking out, causing the man to halt his actions.

“I don't have red velvet cookies, but I could maybe bring you a nice red velvet muffin,” you joke, realising the man behind the door is Wooyoung. Snapping his head up, Wooyoung's ice-cold facade melts away within an instant, being replaced with the same warm smile you saw a few days ago. He can’t believe you actually showed up at the house after waiting for what felt like ages.

“Muffin?” he is surprised to see you, “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up, again,” Wooyoung admits as he opens the door fully, letting you enter. Still not used to the nickname, your heart speeds up ever so slightly.

“Better late than never, right?” You reply bashfully, feeling sorry for coming so late.

“True,” Wooyoung helps you take off your coat and for a moment your heart stops when you feel his warm hands brush against your shoulders, not knowing the way the man helping you feels as he contacts your skin. You mutter a thank you as you take off your shoes, ignoring the way your skin burns upon touch with the man.

“Sang! She’s here!” Wooyoung yells up the tall stairs placed near the entrance of the house. Suddenly, you hear a clunking coming from upstairs, followed by some banging and shuffling. Then you see a head of white hair pop his head over the top of the staircase, his face is red and hair messy.

“Uh give me one second,” he then disappears and more shuffling and banging sounds are heard. Turning to look at Wooyoung with a confused look on your face, he just shrugs with an amused expression.

“We don't usually have visitors; he’s likely just cleaning all the shit off the floor.”

You nod in recognition, your lips turning up slightly at Yeosang’s rushed, cute actions, knowing all too well what it’s like to have unanticipated visitors.

“Would you like something to drink?” Wooyoung asks you as you both walk further into the house; he opens a door leading to a grand kitchen that looks like it's made for celebrity chefs.

“Whoa this kitchen is insane,” You stare at it in awe, walking towards the marble top counters, running your hand over the cool material.

“I love it here, I can make all the food my heart desires here,” Wooyoung admits, walking towards where you're standing. You are slightly taken aback to know that Wooyoung likes to cook, but then you remember the amazing muffin he made for you a few days ago and you realise, yes, he is a good cook. Reaching behind you, he opens a cupboard full of glasses, grabbing two he places it next to the large American fridge freezer.

“No drink?” he asks one more time.

“Oh, I’m sorry, just a water would be nice,” you reply, slightly bashful. Wooyoung’s heart speeds up at the sight of your flustered expression. Grinning at you slightly, Wooyoung then turns around to open the fridge. It's then you hear the banging of someone descending the stairs, rather quickly you notice too. When you turn around you see a red-faced Yeosang, smiling lightly at you. Happily, you return his smile, saying hello to him, to which he replies. He is not the only one who can’t believe you’re standing in their house, finally. Wooyoung hands you a glass of cold water and you thank him. Making his way towards the kitchen island, Yeosang takes a seat at one of the barstools placed around it.

“For a house with eight roommates, it sure is quiet here.” You admit, taking a sip of your water, surprised by the serenity of the place, the only banging coming from Yeosang a few minutes ago. Wooyoung lets out a laugh and Yeosang smiles to himself.

“It’s just us home right now, everyone else is finishing their last lectures of the day or doing homework in the library. Yeosang and I finished early because our dance professor got the flu.”

“You guys are taking dance?” You question, your curiosity getting the best of you, you know Minho and Felix are taking dance too, however, they have never mentioned the two males before, maybe you have to ask them later about it. From this question, the two males’ chests fill with joy knowing they have your interest, even if it’s only for a split second.

Yeosang smiles and answers, “Yeah, we are.”

“Now you really don’t know anything about us, do you?” Wooyoung says, also curious, “Not to sound narcissistic but I thought almost everyone knows what course we are taking, kinda comes with being the group everyone talks about,”

Chuckling slightly, you answer, “Like I already said to Yeosang, I kind of live under a rock, I didn't even know about Ateez until like a few weeks ago, and even then, I didn't really care. No offense of course.”

“None was taken,” Yeosang says, his hand tapping on the island, his eyes watching you intently. Smiling at him once again when you make eye contact, you decide to take a seat on the island too. Choosing the one closest to you, you sit down and are pleasantly surprised by the comfort of the small stool.

“Which dances do you prefer, like hip hop, ballroom, jazz, or contemporary?” You ask the two males, too curious to not ask some questions, the men look at you incredulously and are taken aback by your question. “What has no one ever asked you that before?” you add, confused by the reaction of the two.

Wooyoung stands on the opposite side of the island, resting against the counter behind him, “Not really, people usually just ask for us to dance for them, dance with them, do a sexy dance, you name it, I don't think anyone has ever actually been interested in the sort of technical stuff, except for maybe our parents.” Yeosang nods to his statement and you start to feel somewhat upset no one has taken the time to actually take interest in their likings, or attempt to know them better. It isn't hard to ask someone what their favorite dance is.

“My mother used to be a dancer, I used to watch her dance all the time when I was younger. I’m interested because it kind of reminds me of her. Plus, it’s much cooler than asking someone to sexy dance for you,” You admit, smiling fondly at the memories of your mother dancing in the living room late at night with your brother hobbling along trying to keep up with her pace, even though he was tired he still moved along with her, wanting to have fun with her. Wooyoung and Yeosang feel extremely happy you care about their dancing in a way not many people do, asking them a question to know them better, and for sharing something personal about yourself.

“We mostly do hip hop, but Wooyoung is into contemporary these days,” Yeosang answers you, his soft smile not leaving his features whilst he talks. It feels like it's been ages since he’s truly smiled at someone other than his seven friends.

“That’s so cool!” You exclaim loudly, “I wish I could dance but I’ve got similar to the rhythm of an elephant.” Hearing Wooyoung and Yeosang laugh heartily at your comment, your heart swells in your chest, an unfamiliar feeling arriving deep in your heart.

“You’d be surprised, apparently elephants are really good at following a beat,” Wooyoung says, grinning at you from across the counter, sending a small wink in your direction.

“I'll take your word for it, but it doesn't mean you're going to find me in the dance studio any time soon, mark my words.” You joke and laugh together with the two other men, a comfortable silence falling over you.

“As much as we’d love you to be here for dinner, you’re here to look at the house, right?” Wooyoung is the first to break the silence, not wanting you to leave the comfortable space just created, but knowing he has a duty to fulfill.

“Yes, but it doesn't mean I’m going to take the offer, I just needed to see what there is, you know?”

Wooyoung and Yeosang’s shoulders droop slightly hearing your comment, upset that even though you’ve come here, you might not take the other. Yeosang is the first to gain his composure, clearing his throat and continuing the conversation in case you notice the small dip in their behavior.

“So do you want to see around?”

“I’d love to.”

They first take you upstairs, there is a long hallway with eight doors placed along the walls, and you can’t help but wonder how they managed to fit so many rooms. Wooyoung explains each room, showing you inside the two bathrooms that are both equipped with a sizable shower and large bath in the corner, each with a toilet and sink. They do not go into the six bedrooms explaining that their roommates would prefer not to show up without their permission. This causes you to smile to yourself, realizing that they do indeed have respect for people’s boundaries even when they aren't around. However, you can’t help but wonder how each of their rooms differs, how they have decorated them, and how clean they are. When Wooyoung reaches the end of the hallway, you see there are two doors that haven’t been explained yet.

“These are mine and Yeosang’s rooms,” Wooyoung clarifies and you nod in realisation. The two doors face each other and you laugh mentally, knowing that the two men are close friends so of course their rooms are right next to each other. You expect Wooyoung to move on to the next part of the house just like he has done with every other room, yet when he doesn’t you are surprised. Opening the door he just signified was his room he lets you have a peek in and you suddenly feel grateful that he is sharing something so personal with you. It is a rather plain bedroom, with a large bed in the corner, the bed sheets a dark blue colour, and a bedside table next to it. At the foot of the bed on the opposite side of the wall, is a sizable desk with a monitor screen and a pc. There is a big wardrobe on the other side of the room also. You don’t notice much except for the fact it is very clean and how the bed is much bigger than a regular bed. You also notice a picture frame on his bedside table, you can’t see much of the photo, but it seems awfully familiar for some reason, feeling like you’ve seen it before, you stare at it probably a little longer than you should have.

“That’s my room, just so you know if you accidentally walk into it.” Wooyoung beams at you, closing the door. He momentarily feels insecure by your peering eyes analysing his room, hoping you liked it.

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen your room tidy,” Yeosang says nonchalantly, though you can see the teasing grin tugging at his features. Wooyoung’s ears go red as he gently smacks the blonde-haired male.

“How about you show your room too then?”

Immediately, the grin on Yeosang’s face disappears, replaced with a bewildered and taken aback look. Wooyoung sticks his tongue out at him soon after, walking towards the stairs and shaking his head slightly. Laughing softly at the twos bickering, you follow Wooyoung to the stairway and descend down the wide staircase. When downstairs, Wooyoung walks past the kitchen again, and into a different room which seems to be the dining room. In the dining room, there is a large table with four chairs on each side of it. In the center is a bowl of apples, bananas, and pears. The room is rather plain but still feels cozy. Next, the two lead you to the living room which is rather large. There is an enormous U-shaped couch placed against the wall, and a coffee table in the centre, the couch faces a television standing on a display that has shelves full of DVDs. You are impressed again at how clean it is and mentally make a note to check out the movies they have and also to rest on the couch, wishing to see if it is as comfortable as it looks. Strolling back to the hallway, you notice two doors that you didn’t realise were there when you first walked into the house. Yeosang is in the lead as the opens the door, which has some stairs going downwards to some sort of basement. This makes you stop in your tracks immediately and thoughts race through your head.

“Okay not to be rude but I’ve watched enough horror movies to know you never go into someone’s basement when it’s your first time being in their house.” You admit, not too excited to go into the basement of some people you don’t know too well. Wooyoung lets out a boisterous laugh whilst Yeosang is having a hard time keeping his chuckles in. They don't care that you don't want to go down, knowing that it’s smart to not give your trust to them straight away, even if they really want to gain it.

“That’s okay, for another time then, all we have done with the place is put some beanbags and a projector for when we want to have a movie night,” Yeosang speaks out, explaining why they wanted to show you. They aren’t offended at you, understanding why you have your doubts. You nod in consideration; always loving movie nights make you add another pro to why you should potentially take the offer. Closing the door, Yeosang leads you back to the kitchen and around a corner where three more white doors are placed. Two face each other whilst one faces towards the kitchen, almost similar to a u shape.

“These are more bedrooms, these ones have en suites so there’s no need for an extra toilet downstairs,” Yeosang explains. You briefly remember the door near the entrance of the house, next to the basement, which Wooyoung pointed out as the communal toilet.

“These are Yunho’s and Seonghwa’s bedrooms, and this door is um…” Wooyoung trails off. You notice the way Wooyoung and Yeosang both seem to get somewhat nervous, he continues, “If you were to move here this would be your room,”

You find it somewhat annoying that if you were to move in, you’d be residing next to the two males you have yet to meet. But then again it would give you a chance to get to know them better.

Both Wooyoung and Yeosang have hearts full of hope as you open the door to move inside the room. The room is plain, with nothing but a bed, wardrobe, and desk with no objects on either. You are pleasantly shocked by the size of the room, it’s big but not huge, the perfect size for you to make it into a cozy bedroom. One thing that does stun you though, is the size of the bed. It’s almost the same size as Wooyoung’s, definitely big enough to fit more than three people. Maybe they just all like big beds? One thing you can’t deny is how comfortable it looks. Another thing that confuses you is that there are sheets on it, looking as if someone has slept in it recently, which baffles you a little bit. There is indeed a door inside the room that leads to a stunning bathroom, with a huge shower, this makes you beam, not having to worry about awkward encounters with any of the boys when sharing a bathroom.

“So, what do you think?” Yeosang is the first to break the silence, his voice echoing through the empty space. Both the males are unknowingly looking at you with large, hopeful eyes.

Peering around the room, turning in a circle

“It’s amazing,” you begin, causing the two to hold on their breaths, full of hope, you continue, “But are you sure it’s okay I live here, five hundred doesn’t seem real to me?”

Immediately Wooyoung and Yeosang jump into action with their words.

“Yes of course! Joong said he pulled strings and so has Seonghwa.” Yeosang stutters out, his voice louder than you’ve ever heard it. This makes you baffled as to why two strangers would pull such strings for you, knowing their reputation it seems rather peculiar for them to act in such ways for someone they have never met before. It seems weird to you that they would even think of helping you, let alone pulling so many extreme strings to ensure you a place to live. Perhaps they aren't as bad as people make them out to be, perhaps they are just huge sweethearts.

You stay silent for about two minutes, contemplating all the options in your head. Little do you know how much the silence pains the two men in front of you, wishing they could read your mind. After one more silent and dreadful moment, you decide to give your answer.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t…”

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wonlovie · 8 months

Text

— ON THIN ICE.

After a nasty fall, you, world-renowned figure skater and stealer of hearts, are forced into an early retirement. But with a boyfriend who’s the star player in one of Korea’s leading hockey teams and a friend group of trending skaters who refuse to leave you in the dust, the cameras stay on. So, how are you supposed to keep it a secret when Yang Jungwon, your boyfriend’s publicly declared rival and enemy, decides you’re his next target?

— starring. hockey-player!jungwon x ex-figure-skater!reader, ft. enhypen as jungwon’s teammates, le sserafim’s yunjin and itzy’s ryujin as reader’s friends, oc as reader’s boyfriend

— tags. my super unfunny humour, some kys/kms jokes, they joke abt jake being 'dead' but he's not, smau, minor angst, fluff, kind of but not really enemies-to-lovers, slowburn, some mature content in later chapters: [cheating (not by jungwon or reader), brief depiction of drunken assault, nothing nsfw] tags will be updated as needed

— status. in progress [started 2023/09/03]

— update schedule. every sunday and thursday! bonus chapters may be posted at any time :)

— notes. my first smau !! this was originally thought of with stray kid’s han in mind but that was many months ago LOL the plot and everything has since been revamped and reimagined for jungwon so hopefully u all like it ! :)

— teaser. blossom!

— profiles. pretty ICY || jungwon + his six kids

— content.

PROLOGUE. don't drag me down

ONE. #pushkids

TWO. yoon's hit list [smau + written ~0.8k]

THREE. JUNGWON GET HIS ASS

FOUR. respect for the lil guy

⇀ BONUS CHAPTER. the fight [written ~1.5k]

FIVE. uh,,, oops

SIX. embarrassing

SEVEN. no one ditches movie night

EIGHT. we're lying to each other now?

NINE. i'm literally gonna get violent (smau + written ~1.1k)

TEN.

ELEVEN.

TWELVE.

THIRTEEN.

FOURTEEN.

to be updated

taglist [open! send an ask or reply to be added // bolded cannot be tagged]

@jiawji @lovelovelovebts @enhacatalog @manooffline @delulu4-life @sooshibot @nwjws @lilriswife4life @maimoirs @shinrjj @bluxjun @aylin-hijabi @luviehyck @y0ubleedjusttoknowyourealive @jngwnlvs @jaeyunsleftnostril @pansies-garden @ilovecheese09 @enhaz1 @amesification @woncine @zellypop-main @underneaththestarlight @gg1609 @glitterssim @sunukissed @in-somnias-world @catsyoon @angigls @ladyartemesia @clairecottenheart @beatr2x @sunghoonsfeethair @en-happiness @woncheecks

*if you cannot be tagged, your visibility may be turned off! tumblr also doesn’t allow users to tag new blogs sometimes. i will periodically retry tagging you if your user is bolded!

©WONLOVIE please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

#wonlovie #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen smau #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #jungwon #yang jungwon #jungwon x reader #jungwon scenarios #jungwon fluff #jungwon angst #jungwon smau #yang jungwon x reader #yang jungwon scenarios #yang jungwon fluff #yang jungwon angst #yang jungwon smau

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ellssbellss · 25 days

Text

(NEW! pt.2) Lavender Roses ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

pairing ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

In which a rational head hides a generous heart, but you have always known how to see past his walls and help him bloom into the gorgeous rose he is. Enjoy a slow burn between an honor student and our beloved glasses character!

here is part two!

see masterlist! masterlist

taglist! @abbysblogsstuff @sunukissed @kisskissshutmydoor @idonia-dovahkiin @greensnakegoblep @vervainnnn @desert-fern @delievia @obeythemasters @luca-nightshade @sweetandsourwrites @wrzloyd @1234567890nono @inactivecrofters @katiebwalczak03 @reader3 @radical-bunny @stevexbucky404 @localgaytrainwreck @jade-digital @eleventhdoctorsangel @ozdramaqueen @httpzace @wrzloyd @localgaytrainwreck @kawaii-onikuma113 @httpswilloww @pest-ill-ence @akumakitsune21 @britty-yk @daniels2003 @jade-digital @eleventhdoctorsangel @ozdramaqueen @sadpotatoondrugs @name1nonexistent2 @jstanaxx @yikesarooni

A Challenge from Lobelia Girl's Academy!

The collar of your white button down carved into the skin of your neck, only cutting deeper each time you swallowed. The (s/c) of your suit set seemed like a good idea this morning, but now it blared at you from your peripheral, a warning of possible danger ahead.

Room A326 was a bland one, only consisting of a podium, a projector, and your teacher perched neatly on a chair in the back. In the middle of the room, a long table sits three of your high school's most influential people, one of them being Chairman Suoh. The man’s blonde lashes flickered over you and Kyoya as each of you ran through your practiced dialogue, the presentation not suffering at all from your time apart.

It was almost eerie, in fact, how easily the both of you fell into the groove of working together again, as if it was second nature.

But the thing that made your nerves stand on end wasn’t the investors watching your every single move. It wasn’t the fact that you and Kyoya had barely gotten together maybe an hour or so before one of the biggest presentations of your life. And it wasn’t that that hadn’t gone very well.

It was the fact that if you were shaken by just how natural this whole thing felt, working so fluidly together without so much as a word to each other in days, Kyoya was knocked off his feet.

People who hadn’t known him for years wouldn’t have caught the tick in his jaw, or the long looks behind his frames when it was your turn to present a slide. He gripped his index cards a little too tightly, and his tie rose too high up on his neck, the material crinkling the fabric of his shirt.

It appeared that you weren’t the only one about to burst at the seams because of how unfair it was. That the both of you had finally found someone that understood you both inside and out, made you feel comfortable in your own skin, supported you, brought you back to earth, and shared your ambitions and secrets. All for one petty, rotten, evil argument to bring it down like a gust of wind on a tower of cards.

As you fixed the lapel on your blazer, you caught eyes with him again while he spoke. His gray irises quickly flitted to look somewhere else as he swallowed thickly, and you huffed through your nose.

Rolling your eyes internally, you turn back to the projector, smiling for the investors while a million thoughts ran through your head.

Why was he acting like this? He was the one that broke your heart, and he was too stubborn to apologize for it. He had only spoken to you when absolutely necessary, and ignored you after one of the most traumatic events of your life. You knew that that day on the cliff had been a shock to everyone, but everyone else had gotten over themselves.

You knew he had an ego bigger than Mount Fuji, but you had hoped you meant more to him than his reputation.

Such a stupid thing, hope.

“And that’s why this product should be dispersed globally.” You hear yourself saying, walking in a synchronized motion to the front of the podium alongside Kyoya. “It could change the lives of millions globally, and redefine what we label technology today.”

“Thank you for your time.” Kyoya’s voice resonates in the beige room, and as you both bow deeply, your presentation ends with a period written in black ink.

Applause scatters throughout the room, but you swallow. The presentation was easy, planned. The hard part is what follows, answering questions.

“Nicely done.” One of the investors says, a woman with streaks of gray in her black hair. “Your charts were extremely easy to digest, and very well organized.”

“Agreed.” The investor to Chairman Suoh’s left nods, fixing the glasses on top of his nose. “And your idea to use rising social media as a way to advertise your product is smart. Effective.” His voice is grumbling, barely audible behind his dangling jowls.

You hitch your breath as Suoh hums, fixing his hands into a pyramid on the table, like a god about to give judgment. “The two of you have created something that could truly sell itself, and maybe become a staple in a household’s everyday life. It really could change the market for products like this.”

Kyoya’s lips stretch into his business smile. No dimples, no teeth, just kind, practiced eyes. “Thank you, Sensei, that means a great deal coming from –”

“...in theory.”

The smile drops.

“Sir?” You ask, trying to drag your heart out of your stomach.

Both of you turn to look at the Chairman as he reaches for his reading glasses, perching them on his face before glancing back down to his notes. “Isn’t that what this all is? Theory?”

“Absolutely not, Sensei.” Kyoya says, briskly walking back to his computer and bringing up the slides of the detailed plan he made to put this idea into production. “As stated previously, it would all start with the investments from–”

“Oh, please.” The Chairman dismisses Kyoya with a wave of his hand, almost laughing. “I admire the to-do list you have here, son, but it takes more than a checklist to get things off the ground. It takes research. It takes money.”

“The research is in production as we speak, sir.” You say, joining Kyoya at the computer to access your resources that you cited at the end of your slides. “While it is in the newer stages, the results have been consistent, even leading to brand new–”

“How many patented technologies have been made with this research?”

You swallow, the blue light from your screen being projected into your irises as you look up your friend’s father. “None, sir. This would be the first.”

“So it’s a risk.”

“It is.” Kyoya confirmed next to you, his lengthy form crossing to the side of the podium. “But what is reward without the risk?”

“A guaranteed one, Ootori.” Suoh clips, and he rests his reading glasses on the table.

“It might take some trials, Chairman Suoh, but you said it yourself.” You say, taking center stage. This could help millions, possibly even billions of people across the globe.”

“And how expensive is one of those trials?” He asks, his ego spilling from his chair.

You swallow, and Kyoya meets your gaze before answering in a cold tone. “Seventy-five billion yen, Sensei. As stated.”

“I know. I just wanted to hear you say it again.” The billionaire chuckles, along with the two other investors as they shake their heads, as if that amount of money could even put a dent in their personal checking accounts, let alone their savings.

Then, his face falls gently, and Suoh’s violet eyes pierce into yours, but they don’t hold the same warmth that Tamaki’s do. Just the judgment. Just the cold.

“(L/n)-san. Would you spend seventy-five billion yen on a risk?”

The collar of your shirt suddenly isn’t a smooth blade. It’s a jagged knife, tearing your skin and cutting through your windpipe as you force yourself to think. How could you be so smart and not be able to defend this project that you had poured your blood sweat and tears into?

Can you even recover from this? From the doubt that is clearly in the scowls of the investors in front of you, the disappointed frown from your teacher in the back. How could you show your face to Tamaki again, after his father had humiliated you so thoroughly? And Kyoya, god knows Kyoya is raging inside his ice-cold demeanor.

If there was ever a chance that your relationship would go back to the way it was, it was drowning in whatever vengeful emotion the Shadow King was feeling. You’re sure you’d make it back to the club room tonight and see your uniform folded neatly on a table, a note written in perfect cursive telling you, curtly, to get the hell out of his sight.

“Respectfully, Sensei. If I may.” Kyoya’s voice rings amongst your spiraling, and you’re pulled back into reality as he places a hand on your shoulder. You even feel him give you a gentle squeeze, causing you to let out the breath you have been holding.

“We can agree that seventy-five billion yen does sound like a large sum. And, yes, it is risky to bet on a product that is based on theory and predictions, therefore leaving the end result undetermined.”

Kyoya paused, and you watched as Suoh’s smirk just grew larger, nearly showing his canines in the process. “But hasn’t that been the start of all revolutionary businesses around the world? We all know that Apple Inc. started in a garage, but did you know the same was true for Amazon? Google?”

Kyoya’s back was turned to you as he began to speak to these investors like equals, his potential lighting up the room like an upcoming star.

“The same can be said for Blockbuster.” The woman said, tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear. “Or MySpace. Blackberry.”

“All startups that ultimately failed in the long run.” The man added on, a permanent frown on his face as he analyzed the straight-A student in front of him.

“Because they couldn’t adapt.” Kyoya emphasized. “Our product is not only revolutionary, it’s evolutionary, and will change with the ages.”

“It may be a large investment, but it’s a worthy one.” You speak up, feeling supported under the confidence of the Ootori son’s words.

“I believe in this product. I believe in us as spearheads for this technology. This project will not fail with the two of us overseeing the development.” You say, gesturing between yourself and the suited host next to you.

“You two do work well together…” Suoh surmised, his cocky grin twisted into a slight frown.

You swallow the emotion you feel, playing the angle that you know will get the best response. “In the years I have come to know Kyoya, he has never once gave up on something he believes in. He is always going after what he wants with the finesse and ambition that anyone would want to have on their team.”

Kyoya brings his fist up to his throat, clearing it before fixing his lenses. “And I could say the same for (Y/n). Her creative intelligence and determination in her work is unmatched, making her not only an asset to this product, but also to Ouran as a whole.”

You look at him then, catching the way the veins in his jaw pulsed under the stress. His posture was straight, hands clasped in front of him maybe a little too tightly as he finished his praise.

He’s practically shaking, breaking his own pride to admit that he needs you. Believes in you, just as he always had. And that breaks something in you as well.

“Fine then, you two can talk to the investor panel at the end of this year.” Suoh grunts, earning the slow nods of the other two judges.

You whip your head around and smile brightly, taking a deep breath to thank him before he holds up a finger.

“However, there will be conditions. Find solid research that dilutes the risk of getting it produced.” He stands, the rest of them following suit as they begin to pack their things.

“Yes sir.” You say, vowing to do whatever you can to get your idea off the ground.

“And find a way to lessen the price. No matter how much you believe in something, it doesn’t change the price tag.”

“Of course.” Kyoya acquiesces.

Sighing with his briefcase in hand, Suoh is the last one out the door, on his way back to his office for the rest of the school day. He looks back at the two of you with his mouth in a straight line, but you can see a little bit of pride in his violet eyes.

“Congratulations, you two. We will be in touch.”

With that, he closed the door behind him, leaving both you and Kyoya with bewildered stares as his disappearing form.

“So…” You start, creasing your brows. “That went well. Right?”

The megane’s eyes shot to yours, before shaking his head once. “Not even close.”

“I mean, maybe it started out rocky, but we got the deal!”

“Barely.” Kyoya cuts your excitement in half. “We barely were able to pass through to the investor panel because our project was flawed.”

“It couldn’t have been perfect the first try.”

“It would’ve been better if you had answered the question decently, instead of standing there frozen.”

You stand there, shocked. “If I had answered honestly, the panel would’ve been discouraged against production. I was trying to find a way to-”

“Saying anything at all would’ve been better than letting the Chairman’s question hang in the air.”

Scoffing, you turn your back to him, shoving your laptop back into its case. “Well, everything turned out okay. You saved it with the connections to some of the biggest companies in the world, you should be proud.” Distaste leaked from your tone.

You hear the click of his briefcase echo as he packs his things, the lifeless room surrounding you. “I can’t save you everytime.”

Your hands pause, hovering over the zipper of your purse. The room is silent then, only the ruffling of clothes and the pounding of your heart making any noise. Your mouth is dry as you close your eyes, willing the rage and sadness that you feel to go away, just go away as a dark voice plays in your mind.

Stop it. Stop it, (Y/n). Don’t do this to me.

A briefcase clicks shut right as your zipper closes your purse, and you curse whoever made you and Kyoya forever in sync.

“Is that what this is about?” The tension strains your vocal chords as you ask, but you don’t turn to face him.

He isn’t looking at you either when he swallows. “It’s complicated.”

Nodding, you pull your purse onto your shoulder, and Kyoya barely has time to react before you’re furiously brushing past him.

“Let me make it less complicated for you, then. Since everything else is.” Your voice is cold as you push open the exit, still avoiding eye-contact. “You won’t have to save me anymore.”

Your shoes clack as you fly out the door.

Kyoya heaved off his glasses slowly, rubbing his eyes and the indentions that his frames had made on his nose.

“Christ, Ootori.” He mumbled to himself, running his hand down his face.

Why couldn’t he let you go?

Multiple people had made him angry to the point that he had cut off all contact with him, but it had never left him feeling so empty, so desperate for what was lost.

The director justified that it was because you were everywhere. He couldn’t get over your relationship because he saw you everytime he stepped into school, into the club he built. You were in his classes, his extracurriculars, your contact was pinned to the top of his messaging app (purely for easier access, of course). Your name was even signed on the same documents he had to fill out for his father because of the damned partnership between your two families.

He just couldn’t get rid of you. Physically or mentally.

Not only were you an active presence on campus grounds, but in the late hours of the night he saw your face smiling down at him in the sunlight, your laugh rang in his ears when he made a sarcastic comment.

He saw you disappear over a cliff’s edge.

His heart spiked and he threw on his glasses once more, sharply exiting the presentation room. He willed himself not to dwell on how things used to be, just what they were now. You had been reckless, so reckless that you could’ve been seriously injured. The pain he would’ve felt if somehow you hadn’t come back from that, or if your injuries were greater…it scared him.

All that feeling, the attachment, the wanting. It terrified him.

“No, Mom, I just–I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Your voice trailed along the empty hallways of the business building. School was still in session, but it was between periods. Everyone was in their classes.

Kyoya froze and expected you to be around the corner, fully prepared to turn the other way. But when you weren’t there, he listened again.

“I don’t think I want to stay here.” Dark eyebrows furrowed as he followed the echo to the women’s bathroom. Hearing you stutter and interrupt your mother made him lean against the wall outside the door.

“No, I know Ouran's the best, I know. And I really like it here. It’s just…” He heard you take in a breath while he held his own. “It’s getting too difficult. Were you able to send over the blank transfer application? To Lobelia?”

Kyoya’s head dropped against the wall as he suppressed a groan. Immediately, his body pushed off the wall, and soon he was walking quickly down the hallway. The afternoon sun traced his body through the exposed windows as he took tight turns, his long legs putting in their work as he jogged up the carpeted steps.

His head and his heart were at war as they both pounded on his way to Music Room #3. Just let her go, his mind yelled, then you can be free from whatever feeling she is holding over you.

But what would your life be, his heart cried, without her?

Kyoya busted through the pink doors, alight and tie slightly askew.

He clears his throat as he adjusts the tie, storming up to a surprised Tamaki.

“Kyo, hey. Is your presentation over? How did it g-”

“Will it work?”

“Will what work?” The blonde stands at his full height.

“Your plan to keep Haruhi and (Y/n) here at Ouran. Will it work?”

“Of course it will.” Tamaki gets a knightly gleam in his eye, pounding his fist into his palm. “We just need to do a few more things.”

“Leave it to me.” Kyoya states, his lenses flashing. “How can I be of service?”

The crowd around you cheers as you hug your middle. The Zuka Club performs gloriously on the stage in front of you, your front seat perspective making them seem larger than they actually are. And, you have to admit, their pompous, look-at-me attitudes are really helping their cause here. They are great actors.

Benio, Chizuru, and Hinako all move fluidly to their final positions, getting ready to set off the performance's grand finale.

“Lo~”

“Bel~”

“Li~”

“A~!”

The cheers get even louder, and you wince at the noise. Sighing, you look around at the crazed fans with hearts for eyes, wondering if this will really be the kind of people you will go to school with.

Not like they are any different from the fan girls at Ouran.

As the Zuka Club descends from the stage, a fan bumps into you as they try to get closer to the stage, knocking the enclosed letter out of your hand. You scurry to pick it up, praying that nobody steps on it as the crowd disperses. Your fingers are just about to wrap around the cream-colored paper before a lithe, manicured palm picks it up.

“What’s this?” Benibara’s smooth voice rings in your ears as you watch her read the front.

“Hey, wait, that’s not for you-” You scramble, but the squeal of Hinako’s excitement stops you from speaking.

“Oh my god! You’re transferring to Lobelia?!” She jumps, hands over her mouth.

“No!” Your voice cracks at the volume, and you bring it down as you clear your throat. “I was just…thinking about it. The forms are blank.”

“Well, thinking is over, maiden.” Chizuru smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. “You are wanting to become one of us! Isn’t that great, girls?”

“Don’t get too excited,” A warning laces your tone as you pull away from the blonde. “I was just thinking about it. I’m not sure I’ll even get in.”

“Please, beauty.” Beni says, spinning you as she and her gang begin to walk back into the halls of Ouran. “If you were intelligent enough to be accepted into Ouran High School, then you will be just as openly invited to join Lobelia Academy.”

“Are you saying that Ouran has better academics?” You say, raising an eyebrow at the hand on the small of your back.

“Absolutely not!” Hinako scoffs. “Lobelia is the best in every wa-”

“Admittedly, yes.” The leader’s voice dips, and you can tell it pains her to have Ouran be the best at something. “But our grades have always placed second.”

And isn’t that where you should be?, you think as you pace back to the Music Room, somewhere that accepts second place?

“Oh, hello there, young maiden.” Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, Benio calls to a figure that rounded a corner, unfortunately crossing the path of you and the Zuka Club.

You see Haruhi whip her short hair around, eyes widening as she makes eye contact with the three girls in maroon skirts, before meeting yours.

“Oh, hi ladies. Hey, (Y/n).” She waves, waiting for you to catch up to her. She eyes the way Benio’s hand guides your back.

“You shouldn’t call her a maiden in public.” You hiss at the girls, pulling away from them for a second time. “It could raise the wrong idea.”

“Not for long.” Beni smiles, a song of victory in her inflection. “Are you prepared to leave, Haruhi?”

A confused look crosses over her visage. “Leave?”

Chizuru nods. “Yes! With (Y/n) on our side, we are prepared to confront those boys and set things straight once and for all.”

“What do you mean ‘set things straight’? (Y/n)? What are they talking about?”

“This, beauty.” Benio says, and to your horror, hands her the transfer forms she had stolen from you. Haruhi’s brown eyes go wide, her intelligence making it so she connects the dots at a lightning speed.

“No, no Haruhi, I promise, it’s not what you think.”

That makes her even more perplexed. “So, you’re not transferring to Lobelia?”

“She sure is.” Hinako nods, a smirk coming onto her face.

“All she has to do is sign, and we will-”

“Stop. Just, stop for a second and listen to me.” You’re begging at this point, already seeing the hurt sink into Haruhi’s eyes.

“You three, shut up.” Pointing at the Zuka Club, you drag them to the otherside of the hallway. “Stay here while I talk to Haruhi.”

You begin to move before you hear shuffling behind you, so you whip around, glaring. “In private.”

The Zuka Club just roll their eyes, but they turn anyway.

Turning back, you swallow when you see Haruhi has her mouth in a thin line, but you’re so grateful that she is reasonable enough to let you explain.

“Haruhi, I’m not transferring.” You pause, taking a breath. “Yet.”

“Yet?”

Taking the letter out of her hands, you straighten out the crinkled paper. “I was going to bring this to the meeting today to let everyone know that I was going to apply. I didn’t want you all to be blindsided.”

“Yeah, well. I feel pretty blindsided right now.” Haruhi scoffs, crossing her arms. “(Y/n), what are you thinking?”

“I don’t know! I just, I’m trying to fix things. And I keep making it worse. I thought that if I just left, things would get better on their own.”

“With us?”

You almost whine at the hurt look she gives you, like a hesitant deer coming out into the sun. “No, no, that’s not it. I love you, I love being your friend.”

And you realized you did. You had missed the silent support she gives you through your times of anxiety and stress, but you had been pushing her away because you were sad and angry.

“I-I know I haven’t been around recently, and I really don’t want to talk about why.” You bite the inside of your lip again. “But I know that I want to be better, so I thought…”

“You thought leaving would help you be around more?” Haruhi asks, an exasperated smile highlighting her cheekbones.

“...Yes? When you put it like that, it sounds stupid.” You chuckle.

Haruhi shakes her head, punching you lightly in the shoulder. “That’s because it is.”

You stare at the ground for a minute before see her shift her weight. “Look, I don’t know what’s bothering you. But I won’t press.” The honor student holds her hands in a mock-surrender. “But I do want to be here for you. Just like you are for me.”

Your eyes meet hers again, brown crashing with (e/c), and it’s warm and sisterly. “Let me do that for you.”

A stuttering breath keeps your tears of joy at bay. “Yeah, yeah. I will.” You smile wetly. “I’m sorry.”

Haruhi just hums, taking the envelope in her hands and ripping it in half. “Yeah, you should be.” She finishes with a smile.

A disappointed Zuka Club meets you back at the clubroom’s entrance.

You quirk an eyebrow at them. “You eavesdropped, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but we still haven’t heard Haruhi’s answer!” Chizuru exclaims.

Haruhi rolls her eyes. “Actually-”

“Nope! No time!” Benio rushes, pushing Haruhi through the doors as you follow behind. “Let’s show them that you, maiden, should come to school with us and be with your own kind!”

But all of them freeze.

Stepping around them, you see their pale faces. Confused brows scrunching, you follow their eyeline to see colors and makeup, wigs and dresses and then-

Holy shit.

Kyoya’s wearing a corset.

“Ouran~!”

Off-key harmonization rings throughout the room, making sure to dampen the name Music Room #3. A bright light suddenly comes up on Tamaki, draped in a red gown with blonde extensions wrapped into a high ponytail. Red lipstick floods his mouth as he sings, posing in his very own spotlight.

“Host Club welcomes you~!”

There’s silence as you scan each and every one of your hosts. The twins look elegant, Honey is just darling, and Mori is dashing in his blue suit. Kyoya is perched on the couch, a fan in one hand as his purple dress cascades over his long legs.

Their makeup is terrible, their hair is hanging by a bobby pin on their heads, and once you and Haruhi meet eyes, it’s all over. The two of you double over laughing, clutching your sides as you collapse to the ground.

Benio is raging, smoke practically coming out of her ears. “What is the meaning of this? Are you trying to make fun of womenkind?!”

Tamaki gasps dramatically. “Absolutely not.” He begins to make his way over to you, his ankles bending as he fails to walk in heels, making you laugh even harder. “My dears, you all have lived sheltered lives, and may not know that Haruhi and (Y/n) like free things.”

In the midst of your tears, Tamaki gathers his voice, raising his voice a few octaves which makes you wheeze. “You ladies may be distracted by the Zuka Club, but choose us! And you will not only gain a club of brothers, but sisters as well! See?”

He bats his false eyelashes, the glue coming off the edge of his eyelid. “Aren’t I pretty?”

The Hitachiin Twins pop out, and you and Haruhi can finally stand. “We’re the Hitachiian sisters! We’re just teasing you.” They giggle like girls, a hand over their lips.

Honey-senpai prances about. “Listen, (N/n)-chan, Haru-chan, call me big sis, okay?” He asks, big eyes staring up at you as Mori taps his tambourine.

You looked expectantly at Kyoya to pose, flounce, do something, but you smirk when he just rolls his purple-shadowed eyes, his fan covering his face.

“Do you idiots really think you can win them over like this? I mean–”

But Tamaki’s head piece tilted off his head, floating to the ground, and it made both the honor students crack up again.

“Oh my god, I can’t breathe. I’m dying!” You cry, trying to catch your breath.

“This is too much! I don’t even know what you are trying to do?” Haruhi adds, and your laughter sings across the pink walls.

“You really think we’re that funny?” The twins come up to the both of you, purposefully swaying their hips. It breaks you down, and your cheeks hurt from smiling. The twins lunge at you and start chasing you, only for them to stumble as they run in heels. They try to catch you around your middle, your tears of joy flying back behind you.

“Maiden, what is your decision?” Benio gets Haruhi’s attention as they watch you three run around, and Haruhi just shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, but your club’s not for me. I think your school is great, but I came to Ouran with a goal and a plan for my future. I don’t think I was ever going to really leave Ouran.”

“Haruhi~!” Tamaki practically melts, violet eyes glistening as he twirls over to her. But then, he stops suddenly, pointing at her with an accusatory grimace. It was hard to take seriously.

“Wait, if you knew you weren’t going to leave, then why did you act all angry yesterday?”

Haruhi put her hands on her hips. “How would you feel if I took something of yours without asking? I really liked that pencil!”

“But I asked if you wanted my teddy bear pencil in return and you refused!” The prince whined, bringing the pencil back out from the confines of his skirt.

“That’s right, and I still don’t want it.” She says blandly, causing Tamaki to whimper.

Throughout the chaos, the Zuka Club stands.

“Um, Benio…” Chizuru starts. “Maybe we should-”

“Yes, I know.” The leader of the Zuka Club sighs, a frown creasing her handsome features. “We are not going to give up on you maidens! I swear, someday, we will come and rescue you from this place!”

No one is paying attention. Benio growls, spinning around and mumbling to herself as they walk out of the clubroom.

“And when we do, we will abolish the host club.”

The afternoon’s session ends with a bang. The guests loved the get-ups and the dresses, absolutely swooning over every host in the room. But now, as the chaos dies down and things are being cleaned up, you square your shoulders.

I deserve to be here. You think over and over, and it lightens the weight on your chest. I deserve to be here, to be happy and to get answers. I deserve to try.

Taking a sharp breath, you find a tall form, black hair a little messy from the absence of a wig as Kyoya reaches behind his back, struggling with the strings on his corset.

“Need help?” You ask gently, but he still jumps, his head turning ever-so-slightly to look over his shoulder.

A deep sigh rumbles through his chest, and you see the tips of red that color his ears. “Unfortunately.” He admits.

A small chuckle breaks through your lips, and your fingers begin to work the strings of the corset off of him, brushing against the button-up shirt he kept underneath.

Looking up, you realize that he is impossibly taller than usual. “You’re still wearing the heels?” He is standing straight, perfectly balanced as if he immediately mastered the art of wearing them.

“I couldn’t bend over to take them off with this corset suffocating me. I don’t know how women ever wore these monstrosities.”

“It’s an acquired taste.” You laugh, and the tension eases slightly, both in the air and on the straps of his corset as the piece comes undone, and you step away.

He steps out of it and sighs into a chair, pulling his ankle onto his knee to work on the strap on the shoe. You bite the inside of your lip, shifting your weight on your feet a little-

“You need to stop doing that at some point. It’s a bad habit. ” Kyoya’s voice interrupts your awkward shuffling and you stand straighter, looking up at him.

“Doing what?”

“The lip-biting.” He says, not even looking at you as he ties his own dress shoes into place. “If you have something to say, then say it. Don’t sacrifice the integrity of your lips just because your anxious.”

“Right.” You release your lip from between your teeth, a small smile being placed on them instead. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“For trying to keep me here at Ouran.”

His gray eyes flick up at you as he works his laces for a brief moment before he nods. “I think everyone would agree that you are an asset to this organization.”

“And for speaking to me again.”

This time his foot drops off his knee, and he is looking up at you from his seat. It’s as if he’s realizing he has subtly lifted his cold shoulder.

“Yes, well, I thought that maybe, if you weren’t going to apologize, it was time.”

“Uh huh.” You tease, crossing your arms. “Because my pestering did nothing to push that along?”

He simply pushes up his glasses. “Your presence is quite grating.”

A smile pushes it way to your mouth before you can stop it, and soon you are pulling it back, remembering why you came over here.

“Look, I know you’re mad at me.”

“Because you were unsafe, reck–”

“Reckless, stupid, yes I know.” You finish for him before he can repeat what he berated you for on the beach. “But, I’m mad at you, too.”

His shoulder straighten at that. “Wh–”

“I,” You sigh, holding up a finger. “I can’t tell you why. Not yet. But I just wanted to say, if we are going to be mad at each other without trying to fix it, then we need to set some ground rules.”

His sharp features deadpanned. “And what, (Y/n), would those be?”

“You can’t call me stupid. We both know that I’m not” Assertiveness races through your voice, and you see him wince at the memory of him doing just that.

“We have to talk to each other. It doesn’t have to be as…constant, as it was.” You swallow, and the atmosphere depresses just a little. “But we have to be communicative.”

“Except when you don’t want to talk about something? How is that fair?” The businessman pushes, leaning his elbows onto his bent knees.

“I told you I will. When I’m ready. I know you might not think so, but I deserve that.” You can tell that Kyoya wants to retort, but one look from you, and it dies in his throat.

“And lastly,” Your voice loses that harsh, dictatorial tone, growing softer as you watch him intently. “I want you to know that I’m thankful you took that dive for me.”

Kyoya stops blinking, those calm gray clouds switching between each of your pupils.

“I don’t know what it ruined, but I’m sad that what I did broke whatever was, or what I thought was possibly…growing between us. But I will forever be grateful that I had a friend like you who would jump off a cliff for me.” You take a beat, grasping at your hands.

“That’s it.” Looking back up, you see Kyoya looking at you with the warmth that you thought you had lost, but then it’s gone as he shakes his head. “I’ll see you around.”

Spinning on your heel, your shoes clack across the tile before you hear Kyoya’s voice call out behind you. “(Y/n).”

Turning, you look at him, standing with a loosely buttoned shirt, his voice floating through the air.

“You’re welcome.”

Next Time on Lavender Roses

“Is Haruhi really suffering in poverty? I have to see for myself!”

“She is probably fine, we don’t need to go over.”

“Wait, (Y/n), how did you know about that?”

Day in the Life of the Fujioka Family!

thank you again for being patient! let me know what you think in the comments!

if you would like to be in the taglist, please go to the taglist link and comment underneath it!

love you :)

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sseulr1n · 11 months

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（❀ ◞◟） HAPPY 500+ FOLLOWERS ! ╭╯

halfway to 1k ?!

BRAURR i am literally ASTOUNDED by the amount of support im getting lately;; ur fav feather is flattered 😜🫂. i am not able to convey how much i am thankful nd grateful to all of u <3 i am genuinely so happy that i met sm nice ppl throughout my journey here. although i am not so sure how long i would stay in this community, i hope u guys just be w me until we reach the ult milestone 💋

（❀ ◞◟） LOVELY BLOGS ! ╭╯

(not in any specific order)

@jksworld97 @chaey2k @isamiracle @yunjidoll @w-onki @y-unjins @i-jiwon @h-ao @wonk1s @baesol @yeritos @ningrlz @webzzo @wiotas @d-iaa @v2jy @trivijoy @8unjin @y-ujin @k-yujin @v6mpcat @tyunlouv @i04rei @w-eons @rinovert @ningflrtz @haelyubi @v1ivienne @ningluvr @weiros @poetai @kurcmia @myeurt @sunukissed @i094 @g-aeuls @hrtcvs @miunote @lorlita @st2yc @i69ri @fuckici @joysite @v-ico @1111elena ++ sm more that i may have forgotten😭

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pochipop · 1 year

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＃DILUC RAGNVINDR !! ♡ — DROWN ME IN YOUR FLAMES - CHAPTER II: TO DINE ON EMBERS.

#. synopsis! — with diluc's plan set in motion, you venture far outside your comfort zone (and far outside your own reality.) as you rekindle the long-lost spark you had with him in your youth, you realize rather quickly that this place is nothing short of disorienting; and as diluc gears up for his first fight, the arrival of some unexpected guests might just throw everything off its already rocky course .

#. characters! — diluc .

#. warnings! — brief mentions of alcohol presence and consumption .

#. word count! — 4.8k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam)

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. previous chapter! — here .

#. taglist! — @cafekiri , @sunukissed , @lez-zuha , @crowleyco , @sunlittsu . (if you'd like to be added/removed, contact me through tumblr dms or simply leave a reply under this post!)

As expected, gaining entrance to a so-called “abyssal zone” was no easy task. Diluc handled the formalities (if you could really call them that) over the coming days, —managed to track down where the next zone would be opening, made arrangements for his entrance under the appropriate moniker of “The Phoenix,” and even managed to find time in the evenings to swing by your family’s bakery and give you the day’s rundown. Those times, however, his presence was much less unwelcome, much more expected, and he actually purchased a few items during his loitering; some of which he would nibble on throughout the conversation, and others he would take back to the winery for the staff.

Your father remained mostly stagnant in his health, which was better than getting worse, of course, but far from what you would have wanted. It only made sense his condition wasn’t improving without the proper medicine, but it didn’t make the reality of it any less hurtful to bear witness to.

The door to the quaint shop opened just before closing time, and in stepped Diluc, hands adorned with those same black gloves that fit so snugly around his long fingers, —thick, brilliant hair pulled back and tied just above the nape of his neck. He really had grown up to be incredibly handsome in every sense of the word. Even the way he walked was alluring, head held upright and proud, boots thudding against the floor in a sturdy rhythm.

“Ah, you again,” you joke with him, “guess my baking skills have really turned you into a regular, huh?”

Diluc breaks his typically stoic demeanor to give you a slight smile.

“I suppose so,” he plays along. “That, and we have a long few days ahead of us, as I’m sure you’re well aware.”

Were you ever.

It was hard to sleep last night knowing just what was approaching. You laid in bed, body quivering under the weight of the anxiety, whispering soothing phrases to yourself as if chanting “everything will be fine” to yourself just under your breath would somehow manifest that actuality. All things considered, something was bound to go wrong. What that something was, well, you’d just have to wait and find out, —and that thought made sleep none the easier to come by.

“Yeah,” you acknowledge, a solemn tone lacing through your voice. “I know.”

In the brief silence that follows, there’s a lingering sense of uncertainty that sends ripples of fear through the space between Diluc and yourself. It’s so thick that you’re sure he can feel it too, and you’re left to assume that’s why he continues on so promptly.

“You’ll be fine,” he says, but swiftly corrects himself, “—we’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it.”

You worry it’s a promise he doesn’t quite have the faculties to keep, but choose not to voice your concerns just yet. If nothing else, starting the journey off on the right foot is likely the best you can do for him, and far be it from you to drag him down into this hellish pit of anxiety with you when it really doesn’t seem to be necessary.

“I trust you,” you say instead, giving him a slight nod.

It’s not just for show, either. Funnily enough, trusting Diluc was the easy part. Maybe it’s the influence of having known him so fondly in the past, —or maybe it’s just the way he carries himself as if he’s never faced an obstacle he couldn’t will himself to overcome. Either way, it was a simple endeavor to entrust your safety to him (perhaps a bit foolishly, and for better or worse.)

He doesn’t say it, but the way his eyes soften ever so slightly upon hearing that sentiment tells you everything you need to know. Diluc may be a bit rough around the edges, but there’s a lover buried deep inside that chest of his, —one that cares and yearns and strives like there’ll never be another tomorrow. That’s how he’s always been, and it’s nice to know that some things really haven’t changed since you were close.

“We’re lucky the zone isn’t far off,” he continues, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “We’ll have no trouble reaching the area before sundown if we leave soon.”

Lucky feels like a strong word, but you don’t seek to correct him.

“I’m ready when you are,” you confirm, mustering up the best brave-face you can.

The evening air makes for an uncomfortable walk, but you manage to keep up with Diluc’s long, deliberate strides. It doesn’t take long at all before he halts you in your tracks, opening his coat to pull a set of plain black Fatui masks from the inner pocket. When he hands one over to you, your face twists in a mixture of disgust and confusion, prompting him into an explanation.

“It’s a requirement for entry,” he states, “—trust me, I’m not a fan of it either.”

With a soft sigh, you slip the mask on and Diluc does the same. If nothing else, it looks good on him, you suppose; though that’s a pretty sorry excuse for self-comfort.

“It makes me uneasy knowing that something like this is happening so close to the city,” you comment.

This area of Windrise is so close that you can still see the soaring windmills of Mondstadt just off in the distance. Lingering shreds of sunlight still cling to the horizon, but the ever-darkening atmosphere feels much too fitting for the mood.

“I wish I could say it doesn’t worry me,” he answers despondently, “but I admit, there are nights it keeps me awake.”

You figure that’s part of the reason he hasn’t sought the help of anyone outside of his spy network. That, and he has a notoriously poor relationship with the Knights of Favonius these days, —not that you have any of the specifics on that (nor will you be asking anytime soon.)

“In any case, how exactly do we. . . Enter?” You ask, pushing the other worries to the back of your mind for the time being.

“Well, obviously I've never done it before," he begins, "but as far as I know, there should be a guide arriving soon enough. We just have to wait for them to show up."

"A guide?" You question. "What, is this interdimensional pocket of mimicked Teyvat supposed to be some kind of tourist attraction?"

Diluc let's out a soft snicker, a smile creeping onto his face just below the edge of his mask. If nothing else, it's nice to banter with him like this again. . . It feels natural in a way you hadn't expected, especially after so long.

"It shouldn't be too much longer now. The sun'll be completely set any minute, and once it's gone down, the zone entrance will open up for a bit. Tonight's the last night to gain entrance to this one, from what I hear," he says.

"How long has this one been open for?" You inquire.

"I got wind of it six days ago, but I'm sure you can tack a few days, give or take, onto that. Most zones stay up for about two weeks their time, —not even a full day in Teyvat's typical timeline. I'm sure there's a range, but we'll know more once we've entered ourselves, so it's best not to make assumptions without proof," Diluc replies.

"How many people do you think will be there?"

"I couldn't say for certain," he shakes his head. "Henley said there was upwards of a hundred in the zone he entered, but I'm sure the number varies for a variety of reasons. At the very least though, it's safe to assume we'll see ten matches across the next two days, —mine included. That's at least two people, fighter and representative, plus who knows how many spectators willing to place bets. . ."

Diluc lets his words trail off, the low whisper of his tone going utterly silent. Through the slits of his mask, you can see his scarlet eyes follow something, —and you swallow the lump that instantly forms in your throat.

"Guide," he mouths to you, and it's then that you realize just how painfully unprepared you'd been this entire time.

It's far too late to turn back, but a part of you wants to run for the hills.

"Hello there," a surprisingly chipper, feminine voice says to the two of you.

Diluc moves to stand at your side, tugging you along by the wrist to turn your attention to a woman with wavy, shoulder-length brown hair, a Fatui mask in a different style than your own covering the top half of her small face. She's dressed in purple with a pair of nice, black dress shoes, and she all but skips along the grass to make your acquaintance.

"Dawn Winery's fighter and representative, I presume?" She inquires, a sickeningly sweet smile stretching across her rather delicate features.

If you'd have met her under any other circumstances, and she'd been void of that mask, you likely would have thought of her positively as a simple optimistic spirit. Here, however, her joyous demeanor unnerves you more than anything else.

"Correct," Diluc answers with an affirmative nod, "I hope we haven't kept anyone waiting too long."

"No, not at all!" She waves her hand dismissively, "—the true show doesn't begin for another few hours. The rest has been the usual mingling of the guests, enjoying the refreshments, things of that nature. Given that it's your first time, I'm sure the both of you will have some exploring of your own to do as well, and I wish you all the fun in doing so!"

You find it increasingly creepy how she speaks as if she's selling you some kind of retreat or an island getaway at a resort in another nation rather than slitting reality open just to send the two of you off to watch people punch each other. Nevertheless, you bow your head in thanks, forcing a smile onto your face that pales in comparison to her own.

"Thank you," Diluc vocalizes for the both of you.

She seems pleased enough with what little chit-chat has gone on thus far, clasping her hands together in front of her chest like an excitable child.

"Well then, I won't hold you up any longer!" She says cheerfully.

It's then that she pulls a pair of daggers from either pocket of her dress, gripping them so tightly that her knuckles lighten in the process. You take a cautious step away out of instinct, heart thundering against your ribcage. If not for the faint, blueish-purple glow of the blades, you might not have been able to spot them so quickly, and the thought of it is anxiety-inducing to say the very least.

"It's okay," Diluc whispers, —and if she happened to catch wind of it, she chose not to react.

The so-called guide raised one hand above her head, but kept the other at waist-position, and with a grunt that seemed to be more for show than anything else, plunged both daggers into something previously unseen. The blades were buried up to the neck, their glow completely stunted, —first by nothingness, and then by some black, oozing substance that you wouldn't have been able to identify even if you'd tried. Face scrunching up in visceral disgust, you fight the urge to take another step back, though the desire to put distance between yourself and whatever that is remains.

"Sorry," she apologizes, but giggles as she does so like a little girl, "—I always forget to warn people that this part can get a little messy."

A little seems like a grave understatement to you, especially when the pitch black goo begins to seep from the open slits like puss. It churns your stomach just looking at it, and that feeling doubles tenfold the moment she yanks the daggers further along, creating a larger gash that intersects somewhere in the middle.

"What is that stuff?" You question, fingers nervous curling around the end of Diluc's coat sleeve.

"Not sure," he mumbles under his breath, "some kind of secretion, it seems like, but. . . I really haven't a clue what it's made of."

The woman then proceeds to pull the oozing flaps apart, her daggers falling haphazardly to the grass at her feet. Despite having been buried in the thick of the goo, they're as clean as they were the moment she jabbed them in, but their glow has disappeared and they register as nothing more than typical weapons now. There's little to no struggle at all as she peels the two sides away until a hole more than large enough to climb through has been left in her wake.

"Don't be nervous," she says, motioning for the both of you to come forward, "just step through! And don't be scared if you experience a little dizziness or nausea at first, it's just your body acclimating to the new surroundings."

Standing outside this weird, gaping hole has already made you dizzy and nauseated all on its own. You really didn't need any artificial help on that front.

"Thank you," Diluc says again.

Before you have the time to utter a single noise, he's walking forward and plunging a fearless leg through the misty entrance of the abyssal zone. He looks back only for you, as if sensing your anxiety before you could put it into words.

"Don't be nervous," the woman repeats herself, "—you're sure to have a good time."

You really don't want to go through with this, but somehow, staying in your everyday reality with her would appear to be a fate much worse. That, and after all the trouble Diluc and his team had gone through to set all of this into motion, you knew the guilt would eat at you much worse than any nausea ever could if you denied him this now when he’d already come this close. Thus, you hold your breath as you step through the blackened slit of the material world as you know it, preemptively reaching out for something to grasp hold of. For a moment, it feels like you’re falling, —like your body has slipped into a state of weightlessness and gravity has relinquished its hold over you.

A soft yelp escapes your lips and you find yourself feeling breathless, even as you meet with solid ground. It’s not so much dizziness or nausea that takes hold of you now, but more of an eerie unease; like your body is in fight or flight mode and you don’t know how to flip that switch off again. A chorus of unfamiliar voices fill the air, speaking words that you don’t quite catch over the reverberation of your thundering heartbeat.

“Y/n?” Diluc says, his softly-spoken call laying waste to the rest of the noise, “—are you okay?”

You look up at him with fear in your eyes, —fear that he wishes he could soothe away somehow.

“. . . Yeah,” you answer after a moment or two, “I’m okay.”

You really are. Mostly, anyway. All things considered, that could have been exponentially worse, and as far as you can tell, the throes of it have ceased for the time being. The two of you are standing in the exact spot of vacant Windrise through which you’d entered, but darkness has yet to overtake this version. The sun still hangs up in the sky, and the isolation of the area as you knew it just prior has been overridden by a barrage of faces that you don’t recognize at all. You can tell by the various styles of dress that many of those standing around are not from Mondstadt, and it makes you wonder just how far some of them must have traveled to be in attendance today. . . Makes you wonder how they managed to get here without raising suspicion somehow, just considering the sheer numbers they've peaked at.

“There's. . . A lot of people here,” you mutter.

Diluc nods, then motions for you to follow along with him. He all but exudes the kind of calmness you wish you could have under these circumstances as he saunters into the crowd, taking quick glances at those around him. You catch bits and pieces of various conversations in passing along the way.

“Last I heard, they were struggling to pay back the hefty sum they lost in the last fight. . .”

“The drinks they’re serving this go around are much better. . .”

“It’s a shame! He was a good fighter, but poor management of finances can kill even the loftiest of businessmen these days. . .”

You’re quick to tune out. When it comes to discussions of the rich and powerful, you’re hardly one with a stake in the waters. Diluc, on the other hand, you know to be quite affluent, and you’re sure he could hold his own much better in such conversations if the need presented itself.

You make a mental note to ask him about that later. Considering how much these people seem to enjoy chatting amongst themselves, you’re sure a time will come when you’ll have to be part of the conversation, and it would likely be best for you to know the basics of it all if nothing else. Like it or not, you have an image to keep up in this place as the face and subsequent mouthpiece of Dawn Winery. Having to talk the talk and walk the walk simply comes with the territory, and you've gotten yourself wrapped up in all of this quite tightly, so it's only fair that you make appropriate efforts.

“Where are we going?” You question.

Knowing Diluc, he has to have some sort of plan. He’s not the type to rush into anything without some form of meticulous planning. Not much has changed about him in that regard, and that makes you happy, though you couldn’t exactly say why.

“To scope the area,” he replies. “Look just up ahead and tell me what you see.”

Right to work it is then, you suppose. . .

Focusing your gaze ahead, you scan the general area with an inquisitive scrutiny. There’s green grass, a few of Mondstadt’s representative dandelion’s bent in the breeze, —nothing you’d consider to be out of the ordinary. You keep pace with Diluc in spite of his longer legs, searching for anything to hone in on.

“I don’t get it,” you admit. “Is there something in particular I’m supposed to be looking for?”

“Nothing like that,” he answers, “—but you’re being too near-sighted. Take a look at the bigger picture and try again.”

Sometimes, Diluc talks in circles. It’s not for the pleasure of annoying you or making you feel less intelligent, even if it can admittedly have those effects every now and again. He does it in order to encourage your critical thinking and spur you to consider all possibilities whenever the option presents itself. Now, you acknowledge, must be one of those times.

Staring straight ahead now, you squint your eyes off into the distance. . . And that’s when it hits you. The closer you get to the oncoming trees and bushes, the less they seem to be fully there. From back where you’d entered, the general blur of the horizon line wasn’t as visible, and Archons knows how Diluc was able to pick up on it so quickly from so far away. It’s blurry now as you come closer to the edge, like the background of a painting that’s been smudged over time.

Diluc takes your silence as understanding and stops just short of the haze.

“If you watch closely, you can see it ebb and flow like water,” he says.

Indeed, he’s right again, and just the sight of it leaves you feeling a bit seasick.

“What does it mean?” You inquire.

“That these zones likely aren’t as stable as anyone here would like to think,” Diluc replies. “Don’t forget, this place is connected to a realm we know little to nothing about. They’re created by harnessing power even the elemental Archons might not have been able to fully decipher.”

Add that to the list of reasons for you to get out of here as soon as possible.

“That being said, we should go back with the others. It’s best not to draw attention to ourselves, and being outliers like this is sure to do just that if we’re not careful about it.”

“I think it’d also be best to stay away from these spots,” you tell him. “I know it might sound silly, but just being so close to the edge has given me chills. I feel like standing here is inviting something dangerous to happen, and I’m sure we’d both rather avoid that at all costs.”

He hums in acknowledgement.

“Agreed.”

You're thankful that he's bothered to take your feelings on the matter into consideration. That's a rather low bar, of course, but it happens to mean a lot coming from someone as capable as Diluc. He's experienced in this area to some degree, —possesses knowledge that you likely won't ever be privy to. . . But he's listening. As if he trusts your intuition on this, even when all he has to go on is your word.

"Do you know how long we'll be here?" You inquire. "A rough estimate, at least?"

"Hard to say now," he replies, sounding somewhat apologetic about it, even when it's clear that you're not upset by his lack of an answer.

The vagueness is something you expected, though you get the feeling that part of it is purposeful on his part. Even if he's allowed you to come this far, perhaps he's still uncertain as to just how much he can trust you. It's understandable, to a degree, but. . . You can't say it doesn't wound you a bit, even if you get it.

"In any case, we have time to burn," Diluc says. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

"I don't think I could stomach anything," you reply honestly.

It's not so much the nausea you were warned about, or even a general sense of sickness. The anxiety of this situation is the real killer here, and it's clawing away at you with maximum fortitude. Try as you might to keep it under wraps, you're sure most of it has been obvious to Diluc from the start, —and you'd be right about that. He's picked up on your unease and has taken the liberty of squashing as much of it as he can to the best of his ability. You're a simple individual in many respects, so taking you away from the crowded areas and giving you a better feel for the situation was strategic on his part. The fact that it aided in his understanding of the abyssal zone was simply a net positive; —the sweet syrup drizzled atop a stack of fluffy pancakes.

"Fair enough," the redhead says, offering you the glimpse of a smile.

He pauses, as if thinking on what to say next, then utters: "Let's grab two glasses for the sake of appearances. We'll find somewhere to stand and observe."

You're quick to agree. From the long, stretching table sat off to the side, Diluc parts with you for just a few moments to snag two glasses of deep-red wine. As he hands you yours, he takes a small sip from his own, then makes a subtle face.

"Not good?" You inquire as a giggle bubbles up from your chest.

He considers this a win. If you're amused, it means he's at least partially succeeding in making you feel safe at his side.

"Not good," he confirms with a shake of his head.

You take his word for it and leave yours untouched.

"Stand beside me," Diluc prompts, though it sounds more like an offer than a command.

His voice is soft when directed at you, like he's trying to temper your nerves in any way he can.

"That man over there," he begins, "the one in complete Fatui garb. Do you recognize him?"

Surprisingly enough, there aren't many actual agents of the Fatui here. You'd spotted a few thus far, but considering just how many longer around Mondstadt City and the surrounding areas, you were almost expecting a full house of them. Instead, you've found that their presence here is minal, as if donning the masks has made everyone in attendance an affiliate. The thought of it is a bit disturbing.

This agent, however, is pleasantly familiar. It's actually quite the relief to see him here.

"That's Henley, isn't it?" You inquire, keeping your voice low and facial expressions to a minimum in order to avoid suspicion.

Even with this mask on the upper half of your face, you find yourself being rather cautious of what you allow yourself to show so visibly.

"Correct you are," Diluc replies, taking another unhappy sip of his wine. "And the young woman just over there, with the long, black hair? Her name is Eloise. She's also a member of my network, —albeit much newer than Henley. I say this to assure you that no matter what, there are people looking out for you here."

As if sensing that she's been introduced, Eloise looks over her shoulder, catching Diluc's gaze before letting it flicker over to you. She gives you a quick, warm smile, then returns her attention back to the two young men she'd been chatting with. Even from afar, you can tell that she knows how to control a conversation. It seems the two men before her are practically eating out of her palm, and you find that quite impressive.

"I do trust you, Diluc," you say to him. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have had the nerve to come."

He already understands as much.

"And I trust you," he confirms. "Not just to make the calls during fights, —not just to be Dawn Winery's executive official. . . But with all the information I know about these places, and all that I can tell you about the work I've done from the shadows."

You suspect there's a lot of truth to that, but have to question the extent of it. There's quite a bit you've been left in the dark on, and perhaps that information will come with time, but for right now, you're hard pressed to believe that Diluc has told you everything you should know. Still, you give him a small smile in spite of that.

That smile fades, however, when everyone's chatter goes silent. An air of unease overtakes the entire space, as if sucking the oxygen from everyone's lungs, rendering them utterly speechless. Diluc seems much less afraid than you, but you can tell that his guard is up quite high.

It only takes a moment longer for you to understand what all the proverbial fuss is about. From a swirling, blue-purple, portal-like entryway completely opposite the oozing slit you and Diluc had stumbled in from; a trio of well-dressed individuals emerge. The first of the bunch is a raven haired man with rounded glasses and a deceptive smile. You feel chills creep up your spine from having just seen him, even from afar. The next is a much shorter, stouter, aged man who also dons glasses on his face; but these are pure circles perched along his lengthy nose. Below sits a curled mustache that covers his top lip entirely, and on his head he wears a tall hat adorned with many enrichments.

Lastly, a stoic-faced woman with silvery-white hair that bears a section of much darker strands toward the front moves to the head of the small group, her sharp gaze flickering about her surroundings. Even this miniscule gesture leaves your nerves prickling. She commands so much respect from simply existing in this space that it’s almost unreal. The tension that surrounds everyone can be cut with a knife, and you hold your breath without meaning to.

“W-Who are they?” You stutter.

The wine glass in your hand bears the remnants of your fear, the crystalline glass fogging up as a result of your clammy palm.

These three aren’t wearing masks, their faces in full view. . . Henley steps forward from out of the crowd, and you resist the urge to call out to him to beg him just to fall back in line and play along. You don’t know who these people are, but one thing is for certain: you don’t want to get on their bad sides. The brunet man unsheathes the sword he wears on his hip, stabbing it directly into the dirt between his feet. He falls to a single knee, head bowed in what you can only assume is an expression of respect. The crowd follows in suit, kneeling before the three of them. Diluc pulls you down with him, and you barely manage to keep your wine from spilling all over the grass.

His tone is hushed and urgent, head turning to meet your eyes for no longer than the time it takes to utter a single word in reply.

“Harbingers.”

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risuola · 4 months

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He's a threat. Danger that should be avoided at all cost. He's death in a flesh, a man that you should run away from. But you didn't.

A story about her - just a simple human, and him - a mafia mob along with the twisted series of events that led to something that shouldn't have taken place.

Contents & warnings: mafia!au, mentions of death, weapons and abuse, sexual themes - please read warnings to each piece, reader discretion is advised

ON-GOING

I — NOT YET

II — JUST HUSH

III — GAMBARE, GAMBARE

IV — EPIPHANY

picture: the mob boss, sfw

picture: first meeting, nsfw

taglist: @yihona-san06 , @tiredscavengerskeleton , @son4aras , @vixorell , @cecesharktales , @isleqt, @thickmacandcheese, @captainchrisstan, @bbylime, @sad-darksoul, @shartnart1, @kiki17483, @grimreaqueer, @phoenix-eclipses, @fan-of-encouragement, @valleydoll, @aleeeeeeees-stuff, @marifujioka, @going-to-californiaxx, @just-pure-trash, @edenofeve, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @thigh-o-saur, @heyohalie, @matchat3a, @bubblearts, @littlemisspropaganda, @aconstructofamind, @lawislife18, @rzcnlb, @sunukissed, @b3llair3, @lzaj19 , @sanzusforeverwife, @annshz, @mrs--imperfect, @kaminari-no-ritsusha, @gojos-princesa, @burpzz, @cyzvx, @sterzin, @minidrake, @acidrefiux, @starteez, @tremendousbouquetflower, @anan-baban, @thejujvtsupost, @iivellich , @fresa-luna, @iheartlinds, @he4rts444mi, @when-worlds-end, @the-reas0n-is-y0u, @hangezoes-wife, @noosayog, @gothiccwhore666

to be added to taglist for this series, comment below 🖤

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hrthyuck · 1 year

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AHHHH i’m so happy ^_^ i hate when tumblr does this bc i keep thinking it means 500 on one post and i’m like WHAT, no it means in general BUT I’M STILL PROUD TY EVERYONE FOR 500 LIKES ON @sunukissed

#500 likes #tumblr milestone #thank you

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sunukissed · 1 year

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　　　⌑ 　本 🧚 ♩ ﹒

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tainsan · 10 months

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misfits III (college!ateez x reader)

{a/n: this one is a little bit crazy so buckle up!}

do not steal my work or repost on places other than tumblr.

taglist: @lilactangerine @plutoneu @abby-grace @sunkissed725 @lixiel0ver @acciocriativity @hyukssunflower @sunukissed @khjcoo @stopeatread @meginthebuilding27 @mychickentendou @sunnyhokyu @rxnexxi @croa-yevon @arabelleum @randomness7198 @dysftopia @lucymultistan @sookacc @starillusion13 @daceydeath @theamazinggrace-00 @smilingtokki @hasgalore @pytssamworld @just-a-really-bored-kpop-fan

i{f you asked to be in the tag list and dont see your name, I am incredibly sorry but your account cannot be tagged. Again, my apologies.}

-----THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT-----

⇢ master list ⇠

previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter

warnings: small anxiety attack, someone is a dickhead to reader

word count: 7k

_______

“I’m sorry I just can’t....

”“What do you mean?” Wooyoung’s voice is full of remorse as he cuts your words off. Yeosang can feel his heart drop down to his stomach.

“Let me finish,” you say softly, “I was going to say I just can’t believe this is happening.”

Wooyoung tilts his head to the side, whereas Yeosang’s hands gripped tightly, his nails digging into his palm.

“What do you mean?” Wooyoung repeats himself, not understanding the situation.

“Look I’ll spare you the sob story but my entire life I’ve kind of been treated like shit, it’s extremely hard to believe that something incredible like this is happening, it doesn’t seem real at all,” you admit, looking at your hands which are now full of sweat. Your comment pierces the hearts of the two males standing in front of you.

“It’s happening, okay?” Yeosang takes your hands into his own, and you fail to see the way Wooyoung’s jaw clenches, “sometimes bad things fall apart for good things to fall into place.” Your heart stops for a second as the words leave his mouth. It was something your mother used to say when you were younger. You aren’t sure if it was his words or the way he was caressing your hands in his, but something made you not able to move an inch. “I think…”

Abruptly your words are cut off by the sound of the front door opening, and some noisy voices entering into the building. Looking between Yeosang and Wooyoung, you realise the rest of the house was finished with their classes and now home. Much to your dismay, you were hoping to only have to talk to one or two people today. Silently hoping that none of them go to this room, you take your hands away from Yeosang’s grasp wiping the sweat on the sides of your legs. Yet your hopes are crushed when you hear multiple footsteps pounding around outside. Of course, this room had to be so close to the kitchen. You hear a familiar voice call out for Wooyoung and Yeosang, causing your heart to clench momentarily. They seem to notice your behaviour change, not answering the call, still studying your body language, and trying to figure out how to get you out of this situation. Their efforts are futile though, as you hear a knocking on the door.

“Don’t tell me you are dwelling in this room waiting for,” the door opens, and you see San scanning the room. His eyes widen as he makes eye contact with you, not being able to believe you are here.

“___? You came?” His voice is soft yet the hints of enthusiasm that spill through his cold exterior are unmistakeable. It’s the first time you’ve seen San since the tutoring session, however, you aren’t as ecstatic as you thought you’d be to see him again, wishing it was under different circumstances.

Not grasping how to proceed, all you do is wave in response, a forced smile plastered on your features. Fortunately for you, San is fairly able to read the situation, noticing the way your body is tensed up and uncomfortable. He too speedily tries to think of a way to help you, but unfortunately, the only way to get out is through the kitchen it seems hopeless, and he isn’t about to let you go out through the window, as much as you’d gladly throw yourself out right now.

“Sannie what is taking so long?” You hear another familiar voice get closer to the door. Realising there is no way out of this situation, you grudgingly decide to trail the three men out of the room headed for the kitchen. As your eyes make contact with the kitchen, you see five men either sitting or standing around the island, talking boisterously about what seems to be for dinner tonight. Groceries are laid across the island in multiple plastic bags. You can recognise Jongho and Mingi, which makes you feel a little at ease, yet when your eyes land on Hongjoong, your heart races even quicker remembering the act with him two days ago. You immediately take your eyes away from him and that’s when your eyes land on two unfamiliar faces, they must be Seonghwa and Yunho. They both have black hair and are undeniably stunning. It is Jongho who looks towards where you and the three others are entering, his smile growing on his face when he sees his roommates, the first time you’ve seen his full smile and it makes you comprehend how close they must all be. Luckily, none of the men in the kitchen sees you half hiding behind Yeosang.

“What took you so long?,” he says, feigning annoyance. At that moment all the guys look at you, and you hide entirely behind Yeosang, not knowing what to do. It’s one thing being with three of the Ateez members, let alone all of them in one space.

“Who is that?” You hear Mingi's query. ‘Fuck’ you think, knowing he noticed you, even though you were expertly disappeared behind Yeosang’s broad figure. Wooyoung looks to his left and observes you almost flat against Yeosang’s back, concealing from the view. His attempts to hold back his laugh and it does not go ignored by the five men in the kitchen.

San bends down slightly to meet your ear, “Just come out, nothing bad is going to happen.” His voice is again soothing and calm, only you Wooyoung and Yeosang hear it.

Not realizing you are hiding behind him, Yeosang turns to see what is occurring behind his back. Due to his motion, you are uncovered to the five men residing in the kitchen. As their eyes meet you, there are mixed responses seen across the room. Jongho’s smile spreads throughout his face, Mingi has a sort of shocked-glad look adorning his expression, and you swear you see the corners of Hongjoong’s lip turn up ever so vaguely. However, the two men you are new to have unreadable looks on their faces. A deathly silence follows your reveal behind Yeosang, and he feels extremely guilty for uncovering your concealment.

Before you can say hello, one of the two unidentified faces stands up from his chair behind the island, and you notice he is incredibly tall and well-built, he is undeniably the tallest of the group, his height reaching above Mingi’s.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” His voice is venomous and cruel. He does not utter another word before storming past San, bumping roughly into his shoulder, definitely on purpose. Then disappearing into one of the bedrooms behind you. Sighs are heard from the kitchen, some seeming shocked yet some of them appear as if they expected it.

Looking over to your left, confusion on your face, you go to ask San if he is okay from the impact of the tall male.

“I’m fine,” San replies, his scowl being replaced by a light smile, momentarily feeling delighted you are concerned about his health. You fail to notice the way the six others in the room frown at the man who has your consideration.

“San,” Hongjoong speaks out, getting the notice of the male next to you. His voice is authoritative and sharp, but not in a foul-mouthed way. Rolling his eyes, San moves away from you and towards the room where the man who just stormed off was residing in. Gently, Wooyoung places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards the kitchen, his fingers on fire from the contact with you.

“So how do you like the house? I’m sure Wooyoung and Yeosang have given you a good tour?” Hongjoong asks you as you are still in your place, Wooyoung swiftly takes a place to your right whereas Hongjoong takes a place to your left. Yeosang grumbles as he makes his way towards the empty seat across the island.

“Um yes, it’s lovely.” You reply, your voice is hushed and soft. Hongjoong’s look is unfazed.

“That’s great. So, when are you moving in?” He is straightforward with his words and the inquiry hangs in the room causing the others to become tense for your reply, not sure if you are moving in or not. The harsh actions of the man bounce around in your brain, and you are not even sure if it was Yunho or Seonghwa, or if that was even their name.

“It’s a great place but isn’t it going to look kind of weird if I’m living with eight guys?” you reply truthfully, deciding to ignore your many thoughts and questions about what just happened. You are hoping for people to not be assuming things, if you were to live here, you’d prefer people not to know. Knowing that if it got out you were living with them, then the attention directed towards you would be extreme and way too much for you to handle.

This time Wooyoung replies “We thought you might say that. But it’s not like you have to share a bed with any of us,” he bends down to your level once again, “unless you want to.”

You are extremely taken by surprise by this comment, your cheeks heating up almost instantly. It’s the first time anyone has ever spoken to you like this and you definitely have no idea how to react.

Noticing your stunned expression, Mingi quickly steps in, “he’s just joking, don’t take anything he says too seriously.” Rolling his eyes, Wooyoung moves away from your frame, resting down on the barstool next to you.

“I see this is what you meant by overbearing?” You ask Hongjoong, half joking, half serious. However, the look on Wooyoung’s face, when the word comes out of your mouth, is too amusing to not laugh at. He has an open mouth and places his hand over his heart, simulating to be offended.

“In a way, yes,” Hongjoong responds, his lips twitching up a little.

“To answer your question,” you start, all the men in the room holding their breaths in suspense, not knowing what the answer would be, “if I am to move in here, I want to ask some questions, if that’s okay.”

They breathe out slowly in relief, it’s not a definitive no, they still have a chance.

“What would those be?” You look over to the person who asked the question, it is the man you are unfamiliar with. His voice is deep but smooth, like honey. For the first time, your eyes make direct contact with his and for some reason it feels like it’s not the first time your eyes have met his. It feels like there are lost memories in his eyes, and if you look close enough, you will be able to recover them. There is a strong emotion on his face, it’s concentrated and undeniable, yet you can’t quite grasp what exactly the emotion is. You stare long into his deep eyes, wanting some sort of answer to a question you don’t even know the words to. Swiftly you break the eye contact, avoiding getting lost in the familiarity of his gaze. The small interaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the group and they are momentarily worried that there was something wrong, or maybe that you realised something.

“Um, well first I want to know if I’m allowed to have friends over?” You query, hoping they say yes. If you are going to live here, you better be able to have Jisung over. Sleepovers are a must for the two, if you need the space from everything to just be together and talk about all the little things.

“It’s preferred not,” Hongjoong answers directly. Immediately feeling a little bummed, you start to frown, making a mental tally of the pros and cons.

“But if it’s only Jisung it’s okay. As long as you let us know if he’s coming over.” Jongho quickly adds, ignoring the way Hongjoong sends a deathly glare in his direction. Jongho sends the look back, knowing he is in the right. Nodding at the extra information, you think about your next question.

“What is food like here, do we buy food separately and eat by ourselves or do we share?”

It is silent for a second before Hongjoong answers, it seems like he is the one in charge of the way things roll around here. Makes sense why they call him ‘captain’ “We eat breakfast and lunch separately most of the time, but for dinner, we will always eat together, unless we are busy with work or assignments.” You find this sweet and smile to yourself hearing this answer. It’s been a while since you’ve eaten dinner with people like a family. Always liking communal dinners, this goes as a pro in your books.

“I have some things I want though, if I am to move here.” You declare, trying to sound as authoritative as Hongjoong, but likely failing. Yet, the men around you nod and let you continue, with smiles on their faces.

“It sounds dumb, but you’d have to knock on my door before entering.”

“Done.”

“No eating my food if it’s in the fridge.”

This time Yeosang talks up, “We have some rules about that too, just make sure you put your name on it, and then it’s yours.”

Mingi also adds to the conversation, “And if it’s in there for longer than a week then we throw it out, just so we don’t have unnecessary space being filled.” This makes you feel relieved, glad that it is somehow so organized in this house. In your past experiences in shared dorms, you have always seemed to have bad luck with roommates. Eating your food, being unnecessarily noisy at ungodly hours, being overall dickheads and just nuisances.

“We have a question.” The nameless man is talking now, you try to make eye contact with him yet fail miserably, resorting to just nodding in his direction, hoping he doesn’t take it as being rude. “If you have any issues like illnesses or allergies, we’d like to know just in case we need to avoid certain foods and things?”

“Well, I don’t have any illnesses or allergies, just some problems with mental health I guess.” You disclose, uncomfortable to be sharing this information with so many strangers at once. Some part of you wonders why you even said it. They did not need to know that they meant physical illnesses. Whatever, if they are going to be your roommates they might as well know, you guess. The shoulders of the man who questioned you drop slightly, yet strangely he nods as if he already knew the answer. Luckily, they do not ask further questions about your mental state, much to your relief.

“Any more questions?” Hongjoong inquires.

“Please don’t go into my room without my permission. It’s not like I’m hiding anything, I just need the privacy.”

“That’s fine, we also prefer it that way too, snooping in other rooms is not acceptable here.” Hongjoong reacts to your statement causing you to nod and beam gratefully for the consideration.

“What do I have to do regarding the rent payments? Would I need to go somewhere so they can process my move?”

“We have that sorted out already, all you would need to do is sign a form and contract which I can show you later.”

“Okay fine.” You utter, almost as if you were holding in a breath for years. Around you, the five men look positive, hoping what you’re leading to is what they desire to hear. You continue, “When can I move in?”

Wooyoung and Mingi jump up from their chairs, Yeosang sits up straight, not believing his ears, Jongho and the nameless man seem to share a relieved look, and for the first time, you see Hongjoong’s smile reaches his eyes.

“I have one last question though,” You start speaking again looking towards the male who you have not met before, “I’m sorry I don’t know your name yet.”

His eyes open hugely, and he answers, “When they said you didn’t know about us, they weren’t lying,” he rises from his chair and makes his way toward you, making you ever more confused as to why his face is so familiar, reaching out his hand softly to shake yours, “I’m Seonghwa, and the other guy was Yunho.”

Taking his hand in yours, you shake his hand with a small smile on your face, when he smiles back, you swear you could’ve fainted from his beauty. You are starting to understand why this whole group is so popular. Seonghwa lets go of your hand gently, before turning back to his chair and sitting back down, though the beam on his features does not falter as he keeps secretly stealing glances at you. Deciding to reply to his comment, you speak up, “As I’ve said before, I live under a rock,”

“She said she doesn’t give a shit about us,” Wooyoung says, teasing you further.

“Hey, I said that I didn’t care about all the gossip and group stuff, and with no offence,” You glare playfully at him, bringing your finger up to your mouth to jokingly signal him to keep his mouth closed. His smile is contagious as he reaches up and ruffles the top of your head, the action making your heart skip a few beats. Immediately looking down at your hands, avoiding Wooyoung’s eyes, you miss the envious stares pointed at the second youngest.

“Do you not care about the rumours surrounding us?” This time it’s Mingi who talks. As fast as you can blink, the entire room is thick with tension, and you can feel the glares pointed towards the man who spoke up. Pondering on your answer for a second you decide to answer truthfully.

“I’ll be honest, I was a little worried,” The men around you deflate with sadness filling their hearts, and Yeosang and Mingi start to feel the familiar anxious feeling in their throats. You resume talking, “But in the end, rumours are just rumours, it’s up to the person hearing them whether they believe it or not.”

“What do you believe?” Seonghwa is quiet as he speaks, careful with his words. It is deathly silent in the room and you start to wonder why they care so much about the way you view them.

“I’m not sure.”

Wooyoung’s eyes start to sting, thinking of any way he can to make you change your mind, to see him for him.

“But so far, I like you guys, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. For now.” For the nth time today, the boys let out deep breaths they didn’t realise they were even holding in.

“So do we have to get into your good books then?” Yeosang jokes, leaning on the island with his arms, breaking the tension and causing small chuckles to sound across the room. At this moment, for a split second, you’re incredibly impressed by the fact they barely speak over each other, always letting each other speak without being ignored. They have likely known each other for a long time, you conclude.

“If you’re up for a challenge? Go ahead.”

“I like our odds.” Hongjoong turns towards you, leaning his body towards the island, smirking lightly. You are confused by Hongjoong’s behaviour and the way it seems to change so easily, but you are guessing you may have to get accustomed to it. The look he gives you is intense and almost seductive, if you’d stare any longer you likely would fall for him. Swiftly looking away, you glance towards your watch to check the time, 17:13.

“How much stuff do you have to move here?” San appears from around the corner, his ears are red and his hair is slightly ruffled, it looks like they had an intense discussion in there, he doesn’t look upset, but there is some emotion along his features, however, it is extremely unreadable and confusing.

“I only have a suitcase of clothes.”

“Do you not have any other furniture?”

“It was burned down in the fire, but the owners of the building are going to reimburse me for the lost things. I just need to go shopping when I have the money and the time.”

All seven men nod in understanding, and then Hongjoong speaks up. “If you want to move in this evening that’s fine with me. Yunho and I will go and help you grab your suitcase.”

“Oh, it’s okay, I can grab it myself, but I appreciate the offer.” It’s one thing to be travelling across campus with two of the members of Ateez, let alone people seeing them walk into your temporary dorm room. Already knowing whispers are going around about Hongjoong entering your class and demanding to speak with you, you aren’t too eager to fuel people’s gossiping needs. You also would rather avoid the person who just stormed out of the room with a bitter look on his face. Not wanting to start anything unnecessary.

“It’s really fine, I’ll get Yunho now,” Hongjoong insists, moving to go towards the room where Yunho is residing, he gets halted in his movements as said man appears in the kitchen.

“If you think I’m going anywhere with her you are wrong, the last thing we need is more rumours being spread so she can get her fifteen seconds of fame.” Yunho’s glare pierces through you, his full height peering down at you, causing you to feel incredibly small.

“Yunho we are going.” Hongjoong declares, his voice easily matching his.

“In your dreams,” The tall male walks nearer to you, stopping when he is directly in front of you. Wooyoung rises from his seat and tries to push Yunho back slightly, but he is overpowered by the taller man. Behind you, the rest of the males stand up from their chairs ready to intervene if things go wrong, yet knowing Yunho, they doubt he would ever hurt you physically. Yunho carries on speaking, “Just because they let you in here doesn’t mean you are welcome.”

“Yunho.” Hongjoong’s voice is stern and threatening, attempting to make Yunho back up. You flinch from the sharpness of Hongjoong’s voice.

“Just because they are nice to you, doesn’t mean I will ever be. You are nothing, you will never be. Stop trying to get into our pants and leave us alone.”

“Yunho, stop.” Seonghwa’s voice booms in the background, causing you to flinch again, yet your eyes cannot break contact with the tall man in front of you. The nerves in your body are on fire, you start to feel nauseous and dizzy. This situation reminds you severely of some of the past encounters you have had with your father. Yunho doesn’t spare a glance toward the two eldest males, his eyes solely focused on you. Finally, he starts to step back slowly. Letting out a scoff at your scared frame, he walks away, back to the room where he emerged from.

Feeling overwhelmed with emotions, you have no idea what to do other than speed to the exit of the house. Seonghwa attempts to stop you as you flee, yet you slip past him. Hongjoong storms after Yunho, slamming the door behind him, making you flinch even more. Feeling tears prick your eyes, you’re hit with flashbacks from long ago which you have tried so hard to push to the back of your mind. Hurriedly pulling on your shoes, not even bothering to grab your jacket on the coat stand, you escape from the house, tears running freely from your eyes. Seonghwa quickly runs after you, reaching you under the light of a dimly light streetlight.

“___.” Seonghwa’s voice calls out from behind you. “___,” he calls one more time before gently grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him. Seeing the tears fall from your eyes makes his heart clench impossibly hard.

“Please come back, you shouldn’t be walking around alone when it’s dark.” Seonghwa is softly spoken, his hand not leaving your upper arm, his thumb unconsciously stroking your exposed skin.

“Look I know you’re not stupid, so if you were in my situation, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to live with someone who just talked to you as if you are nothing more than the dirt underneath their shoe.”

“He doesn’t mean it, trust me. He just has trouble with new people.” Seonghwa tries to explain.

“So do I, but you don’t see me talking to people like they are pieces of shit?”

“It’s been a while since we’ve let someone in our house, let alone live in it. The last time it happened, it didn’t work out too well, he’s just trying to prevent something wrong from happening.” Your features soften slightly at this admission, but still not enough for you to even think about forgiving Yunho and his actions.

“I know I said I was maybe going to live with you guys, but if he is going to be like that all the time, I am not going to able to handle that. It’s too similar, to him, I can’t relive that. You can’t make me relive that.” Your breathing becomes uneven as your throat tightens up in a familiar feeling of panic, flashbacks of the past flashing in your eyes. Dropping down to your knees, Seonghwa catches you in his arms, cradling your limp body. He understands your feelings, and your pain, more than you know. Yet, all he can do right now is comfort you, stroking up slowly up and down your back. Unbeknownst to you, Jongho walks out of the building, your jacket in his hands. Seeing you on the floor, tears falling from your eyes makes his chest tighten. Jongho reaches the two of you, bending down to squat at your level, he wraps your jacket around your shoulders. ‘

“Let’s get your stuff here so you can go to sleep early.” Jongho’s voice is gentle, just above a whisper, he sees you flinch at the thought of going back to the house which makes his chest hurt even more

“Hongjoong is dealing with Yunho, you don’t have to worry about him. You can trust me, ___. Hongjoong has a way of disciplining us” Jongho grabs one of your balled-up fists and helps you to stand up, Seonghwa momentarily missing the warmth of your body against his.

“We will come with you to get your things. I know you’re likely worried about people seeing us with you, we don’t blame you, you don’t want to be a target.” Jongho says.

Wiping away your tears, and calming your breath, you manage to get some words out, “I don’t care about becoming a target, I’m just not a fan of people talking about me behind my back.” I explain.

They both nod in understanding and then Seonghwa says, “You can’t have nowhere to live, ___. We can both promise that Yunho will never speak to you like that again.”

Reluctantly, you nod in agreement. “Okay.” You are surprised by the way you believe the two men so easily, trusting them faster than you have ever trusted anyone before. Of course, not fully, but you can see yourself trusting them in the future, which is weird to you. Very weird.

_______

Walking to the student dorms was an interesting experience, you get to talk to Seonghwa a little bit more learning he is taking an accounting course whilst Jongho is taking a marine biology course. What is interesting is the way they walk so closely to you, since you are outside of the school campus, you don’t mind the looks of random people who you are very sure don’t attend your school.

What you fail to observe is the way they glare at all the males who dare to look towards your direction, moving closer to your smaller frame. However, when you enter the front gate to the campus, the distance between the three of you disperses almost immediately. You feel glad that the two who took you are so understanding of your boundaries and wishes. Strolling behind you, Seonghwa and Jongho are in a distant chat, acting as if they don’t know who you are and just happened to enter at similar times. It makes you feel comfortable and pleased by the kind gestures they show. The trip to the residences is going smoothly until you are suddenly stopped by a very familiar face.

Your walking stops immediately, causing the two walking behind you to halt extremely fast, almost making the youngest trip over as the elder grabs his arm and pulls him to the bush to their left.

“Jeongin! What are you doing here?” You ask the white-haired male, glancing towards the bush where the two men have just bolted for, you see the head of Jongho sticking out slightly and start to worry. Peering back at Jeongin, his smile is contagious, his dimples showing on his cheeks, and you briefly forget the situation.

“I was looking for you, I need some help with this dumb biology lab report, I’ve calculated the results from the experiment over ten times and they are all coming back as inconsistent or inconclusive, I have no idea what I’m doing wrong. I was wondering if you could help me?” Jeongin looks desperate as he hands you his tablet displaying multiple tables with numbers displayed on the screen.

“When is the report due?” You question, praying it isn’t before midnight tonight.

“It’s due on Sunday, before midnight.” He tells you. Glancing down at your watch, you see it’s currently Friday. Perfect.

“Are you free tomorrow? I am a little busy right now.”

“I’m free in the morning, but in the afternoon, I have a date.” You raise your eyebrow at him, slightly proud of him for getting himself a date, knowing his awkwardness around people he has an interest in.

“I’ll see you in the morning then. Meet me in the library at ten?” The boy seems restless, obviously worried about this lab report.

“Hey Jeongin, it’s okay,” you place a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, “we will work it out, just try to get some rest tonight, you need to look good for the lucky person.” At this the young male smiles and gives you, his thanks. He bids you a goodbye, before walking away, likely to his residency.

Looking around you for any sign of people, then surely there is no one near, you make your way to the bush and the sight almost makes you topple over with amusement. Jongho has his head in the bush, yet his entire body is showing, and Seonghwa is lying flat on the grass face down, his body straight and stiff.

“You guys can come out.” You can barely hold back your laughter, tears forming in your eyes. Jongho immediately appears from the bush, his hair messy leaves entwined in his brown locks. Seonghwa takes his time standing up, rubbing his back and complaining about his stiffness.

“For a group of people who is supposedly terrifying, you guys aren’t that scary at all,” you admit, reaching into Jongho’s hair to take out the loose leaves. Seonghwa secretly curses at the younger, wishing he was the one who put his head in the bush.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Jongho says, cheeks red from your actions, “Who was that by the way?”

Seonghwa and Jongho both have curious looks on their faces, mixed with something else unreadable. You are starting to get tired of the difficulty reading the eight men you’ve briefly met.

“That was Jeongin, he’s in the same friend group as Jisung,”

“Are you guys close?” Seonghwa asks, acting as if he isn’t interested but you can tell he is slightly curious.

“Not particularly, he comes to me for advice with dating sometimes, he always ends up dating guys who are huge red flags.”

The two men in front of you let out ohs of realisation, feeling suddenly embarrassed about their questions.

“Okay, you guys wait here whilst I get my suitcase.” You turn towards the entrance of the building, but quickly you revolve back around to face Seonghwa and Jongho, “stay away from the bushes.”

The trip to Yeji’s apartment is quick, just throwing the last few things into the suitcase before zipping it up and trudging it down the stairs because of course, the elevator is never in order. As you reach the exit, you use your back to open the door. Weirdly, as you look around, you don’t see the two you left there earlier. You start to think they have abandoned you leaving you to walk back all alone. Or maybe they don’t even want you to come to their house, only playing around with you. They only wanted you to feel secure so they could play with your heart.

“You look lost in thought.” A deep voice is heard from your right, as you look over you see Seonghwa with Jongho and your worries quickly melt away.

“I was starting to think you had left me alone.” You admit, feeling relieved they didn’t disappear into thin air. Your anxious overthinking dispersing very quickly.

“Sorry, we saw a group of people walk out of the building, so we quickly went to the back,” Jongho explains, feeling upset that they made you second-doubt them.

Jongho holds your suitcase, even though you told him not to, he simply ignores your complaints as he walks with it. The way back home is similar to the walk there, however, this time Seonghwa and Jongho pay more attention to their surroundings, knowing there will likely be some creepy men around this area during the late hours of the night, and make sure you feel safe with them. During the quiet walk home, you take this time to think about the past few hours, from arriving at the house to the tour and the occurrence with Yunho. At this moment you decide that you’re not going to cower down from Yunho, you will just live with it. You’ve done it before; you can do it again. Besides, you’re not alone, you have at least seven people who will be kind and welcoming to you. If this is the price you have to pay for an amazing accommodation, then so be it.

The second you reach the house, Mingi throws open the door, extremely relieved you decided to return, his smile covering his entire face.

“I made your bed up, I had some spare bedsheets so that’s what’s on your bed for the time being. We can go shopping for some ones that you like when you have the time.” Mingi smiles at you as you make your way back into the house. When Jongho and Seonghwa send him pointed glares, he simply winks at them, proud he was the first to add something of his own to your room. Jongho lifts your suitcase to your room, causing you to thank him profusely. Mingi and Seonghwa follow closely behind you into your room.

“Do you need help unpacking?” San asks, his head popping around your doorframe.

“I think I’ve got it but thank you.” You reply, hoping they drop the subject.

“Are you sure? We’d be happy to help.” Seonghwa insists, hoping you say yes, just so he can spend more time with you.

“As much as I appreciate it, I’d prefer to sort out some of my clothes myself.” You admit, heat crawling up your neck. Immediately, the four men around you realise the meaning behind your statement, and apologies spill from their mouths too, hoping you didn’t view them as some form of perverts. When you start laughing, their hearts swell, happy they didn’t make anything too awkward. Eventually, you manage to usher them out of the room so you can start organizing your things. It takes about five minutes before you get a knock on your door, feeling a little exhausted from the constant attention, you take your time to make your way to open the door. When you open the door, Wooyoung stands there, a flustered smile placed on his features. In his hand is a plate of food. You momentarily feel bad for taking your time to unlock the door.

“We ate dinner when you were fetching your things, I made sure to leave you some. Next time we will eat dinner all together.” He hands you the plate, it is full of a delicious meal, much fancier than all of the instant meals you buy from the supermarket.

“Thank you Wooyoung.” You gratefully take the plate from him.

“Enjoy.” He says before closing the door behind him as he leaves.

You take your time eating the food, revelling in how delicious it is. It’s the first time in a while that you have had a homecooked meal and it warms up your entire body. You could get used to this.

When you finish your meal, you go to the kitchen to wash up your plate and get a drink of water. After washing your plate, you look up at the vast number of cupboards in the kitchen, not remembering the one which holds the glasses. Opening a few, you see plates, bowls, spices, pasta but no glasses.

“Looking for a glass?” A voice speaks from behind you, shocking you, causing you to almost scream out in surprise. You rapidly turn around to see who it is who spoke.

“I’m sorry, did I scare you?” the owner of the voice is Hongjoong. His face has an amused grin plastered on it.

“Uh yeah, sorry I wasn’t expecting you to just appear behind me.”

Hongjoong is standing directly against the island, just about a metre between the two of you. Silently, you wonder how on earth he managed to get there without you hearing him.

Instead of going around you to grab a glass, he steps forward, his chest almost colliding with yours, trapping you between the counter behind you and his strong frame. Reaching up, he opens the cupboard directly above your head and takes out a glass, placing it on the counter behind you.

When he looks down at you, your eyes are once again getting entranced by his deep pools of honey. Once again, his eyes are familiar to you. The familiarity of his eyes draws you in impossibly close, your mind racing around various memories to see if you can find a match for the mysterious eyes. Where have you seen them before? It’s almost as if you’ve seen them in a dream, vivid in consciousness yes when you try to remember details, it renders empty in your head. Trying to focus on the situation at hand, you stop your attempts of racking your brain for lost information.

Concentrating back on the man in front of you, he makes you feel awfully small once again. Hongjoong isn’t tall, but the way he’s peering down at you, trapping your body against his, makes him feel at least six feet tall.

“Thank you,” you manage to get out, before turning around and grabbing the glass with a deadly grip.

Hongjoong moves back to his previous position, resting back against the island. His eyes follow you as you fill the glass with water.

“Do you like your room?” Hongjoong is calm as he speaks, acting as if nothing had just happened.

“Yes, it’s lovely.” You reply, cursing yourself in your head telling your brain to make your cheeks cool down.

“That’s great to hear. I hope your bed is nice enough for you, I found it super comfortable.”

“Oh yeah! The bed is super comfortable.” Suddenly, his words hit you and they render in your mind, “How do you know it’s comfortable?”

“It used to be my room, the bed too,” Hongjoong confesses, smirking at the way your body language becomes flustered. This explains why the sheets were messy earlier, but that also means he was sleeping in it today. This very statement causes your mind, to again, burst up into a spiral of thoughts. Did Hongjoong give up his room for you? Of course not, why would he ever do that?

“Oh, that’s nice.” Your head is abruptly full of thoughts of Hongjoong residing in your bed. Why are you even thinking about that? It’s not like he is going to be in your bed from now on.

“I’ll let you get to sleep, tomorrow dinner is at seven. Are you able to make that?” The man with dirty blonde hair asks.

You can only nod in response, your words jumbled in your brain. Luckily you only have one class tomorrow, it finishes late, but you can for sure make it for seven.

Hongjoong’s lips turn up ever so slightly, and he nods back at you before departing the kitchen. As he leaves, you watch his figure move towards the staircase, not able to think straight. You would have been better off not knowing the information he just provided. Why would he even give up his room in the first place, did he move out of it because there was something wrong with it? Maybe there are cockroaches in the room. Then you remember where your house is, there is no chance there are cockroaches in such a clean house. What if Seonghwa and Yunho are super loud? Whatever it is, you are likely to find out soon. Now you wish you had asked Hongjoong why he moved out of the room. You decide to ask him another time, not keen on walking up the stairs after him just to ask one question.

Trudging back to your room, you place your glass on your bedside table and grab your phone that was charging. You immediately message Jisung, telling him that you two needed to talk tomorrow. If there’s anyone you can talk about anything to, it’s your best friend. While Jisung is a little immature and chaotic, he is a great listener when he wants to be. Even if he is sometimes all over the place, his advice is most of the time very good and reasonable.

Jisung immediately sends a message asking if you want to talk now, yet the tiredness of the relentless day has caught up to you and you manage to send him one more message before carrying out your night-time routine. Almost jumping into the huge bed, you’re pleasantly surprised by the rich scent emitting from the sheets. Remembering they are Mingi’s sheets, and also Hongjoong’s bed you feel flustered for being so close to something so personal to the boys. However, your thoughts simply disappear as you feel your eyes starting to get heavier. As you fall into a deep sleep, your mind replays the events of the day, you are excited about the future of you living here. Yet the nervousness residing in the bottom of your stomach is still there, yet you have high hopes it will slowly disappear.

----

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wonlovie · 7 months

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eight ! we're lying to each other now?

prev ⋆ masterlist ⋆ next

note. i forgot to write it in, but first three screenshots are from jungwon's pov!

taglists [open!]

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[PERMANENT] @jaeyunsleftnostril @deobitifull @jenowhere @moonchus @1-800shutthefuckup @lilriswife4life @ni-kisgf @fakeuwus @tya0 @chickenscoups @in-somnias-world @enhastolemyheart @rbf-aceu

©WONLOVIE please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

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ellssbellss · 25 days

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(NEW!) Lavender Roses - Kyoya Ootori x Reader

pairing ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

here it is! so sorry it took so long, but unfortunately updates will be slow. but i will not abandon this story! i have too many plans :)

-> summary: Nodding, you pull your purse onto your shoulder, and Kyoya barely has time to react before you’re furiously brushing past him.

“Let me make it less complicated for you, then. Since everything else is.” Your voice is cold as you push open the exit, still avoiding eye-contact. “You won’t have to save me anymore.”

-> tw! descriptions of drowning.

-> word count: (whole episode): 20k

-> legend:

(f/h/d) - favorite hot drink

(s/c) - suit color

see masterlist! masterlist

A Challenge for Lobelia Girl's Academy!

Your lungs have flattened as you float, and your heart rate has ceased its erratic beating, but somehow your brain is still conscious. The comfort of breathing has been robbed from you, and yet you're still awake, still suffering as the freezing water breaks into your skin and rips through your muscles, chilling your bones with a pursuit that had to be admired.

Your eyes are open, (e/c) irises staring blankly up through ripples of water, your eyelids only being held open by the force of the current. Cold water rushes past your skin and pushes you deeper into a black abyss, away from the sunbeams that pierce through the watery veil.

It’s as if they're laughing at you, teasing your skin with their bright warmth.

A crash comes from above you, and a body falls from the horizon that you so desperately longed for. The form is small and muscled, rounded into a ball as they plummet towards your limp form.

Your eyelids widen, only from the force of the splash, as you see Honey’s body tumble towards you, his eyes wide with fear and confusion.

Your consciousness cries as you will your body to catch him, to move, to do anything. Honey whizzes past you, locking eyes with you as you outwardly stare into space. His mouth opens to make sound, but nothing comes out but bubbles of his precious oxygen. A sudden rush of a concentrated current pushes him down out of your view, out of your peripheral vision, and out of any hope you had of saving him. A sense of feeling comes back to you as you scream, unable to move as you feel his presence disappear, the red light of a tiki statue flashing behind you.

And when your mouth opens, more water files in, hungry and selfish as it not only surrounds your body, but suffocates your insides. Your lungs inflate with the chilling liquid, making your body weightless in the pools of terror, and you start to rise.

The surface tension of the water breaks as you lift out of the ocean. Water spills out of your mouth and nose as you are pulled up and up. Over the vast sea, over the jarring cliff that wasn’t in clear view before.

But now it taunts you, its sharp edges barely missing you as you rise.

As you ascend into the lighter blue of the sky, it begins to morph around you. The cerulean begins to darken into black, the crisp air becoming muddy and warped as the scene changes around you. For a moment, everything seems to pause and you are suspended in black. Then, gravity reminds you of your fragility, and you are sent slamming a firm surface.

The landing makes the wind rush out of your lungs, and white sheets billow around you. A comforter sculpts your back, and a large window shines into the room. You choke.

This is Kyoya’s bedroom at the beach home.

Panic floods into your system. Why were you in his room? Where was he? You couldn’t see him, not now, not after everything that happened today. Cursing in your mind, you move to leave this godforsaken mattress, get out of here and curl in on yourself till your broken heart heals, but your arms feel heavy.

Looking at your wrists, you see that they are pinned on either side of your head by an invisible force. Fighting against it, the force lifts for a second before your wrists are pushed down again, deeper into the mattress as it squeaks and wrinkles. And a red shirt appears in your vision.

Gnarly, curled fingers grip your skin, and you bury yourself into the bed. Ren’s eyes flare back at you, closer than he ever was. His sneer is prominent as his long hair is in shambles over his shoulders, and it only grows wider as you thrash below him.

His voice echoes in the shadowed chamber, wrapping around your throat and squeezing. “Nowhere to jump now, sweetheart.”

Your words are lost on you as fear strikes your heart, making it beat to a wilder rhythm as your body writhes. But he continues.

“You could’ve died on that cliff, you know that, girl? Thrown into raging waters? Very dangerous.”

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” Ren’s voice mixes with one that breaks through the shock, through the terror, and sends more panic into your veins.

In slow motion, gracefully long fingers dissolve into view. Your eyes follow as particles of pale skin form an arm that locks your wrist to the bed, and then a lithe torso comes into view as you look towards the ceiling.

The smug face of your crush, your director, your best friend appears before you, smirking with a calculating glint in his eyes that used to feel warm.

But as Kyoya pins you to the sheets, its like ice as he meets your gaze.

The floor below the bed frame isn’t stable, the mattress below you rippling like evil water as you stare up at him. Shock and dizziness make everything around you hazy except for his distasteful gaze on yours.

“Do you know that? Please tell me you’re smart enough to see it, you idiot.” There’s somehow a sense of desperate anger as Kyoya keeps you underneath him. “You were wrong. You could’ve died, and you were wrong, and now look at what you did, (Y/n).”

Your nerves say your legs are kicking, but his own pin your knees, rendering them useless. Your arms feel like they’re thrashing, but you still feel the sting of cotton surrounding your skin. Apology after apology rushes through your mind, and you open your mouth to plead with him, to cry for him, to say anything.

But you’re choking again, and a floral scent fills your lungs, causing you to freeze.

Kyoya’s cold eyes flick to your lips, and his raven brows furrow as he releases one of your wrists letting it fall heavily against the mattress. You willed it to move, but like you are drifting in the current of the ocean, you are not in control.

Coughing, something works up your throat and lands on your tongue. Kyoya’s fingers reach past your parted lips and pluck it out, bringing it into your line of sight.

A rose petal. A single, purple rose petal.

Kyoya looks at it confused, his teeth barring. “What is this? What are you doing?” Distrust engulfs his tone.

But his eyes widen as your coughing turns into wheezing, and your body is jolting as he holds you to his mattress, more petals coming up and filling your mouth, your lungs.

You're drowning, and Kyoya lets you go fully as he sits back in horror.

“Stop it. Stop it, (Y/n). Don’t do this to me.” He yells, the moonlight cascading over his sharp features that have twisted in betrayal and anger. “Don’t do this to me!”

Sitting up, you heave, the flower petals triggering an onslaught of spasming lungs as they bloom out of your mouth. Your eyes tear up, apologetic and sincere as you move to look at Kyoya again, only to scramble away in horror.

The back of your skull hits the headboard as Kyoya’s face rapidly changes. Images of his gray eyes morph into the intimidating brown of Ren’s, then the lighter ones of Haruhi’s. Tamaki, the twins, Arai, your mother, all flash on Kyoya’s neck and torso at a destabilizing pace, screaming at you to stop, to think about what you did. Looking away, you force your body to convulse, reaching a hand up to your neck to soothe the burning of thorns and petals poking into your esophagus so that you could just say sorry.

And that’s how you wake up.

Your hand around your throat, lungs burning, and Kyoya’s anger resonating through your chest.

The doors of Ouran Academy burst open, your shoes squeaking against the polished tiles and scuffing them much to the cleaning crew’s dismay.

Sending an apologetic smile their way, you stuff paper upon paper into your backpack as you dodge students left and right, weaving through the crowd of the rich and the beautiful. However, with the addition of your hurried figure, you’ve created an ink spot on a white page.

You would not describe yourself as the spitting image of beauty as you raced up the tall stairs and long, carpeted hallways of your school. You could see your peers’ eyes linger on the small shadows of purple underneath your eyes, and the untucked fabric of your uniform. Some of them bent down to pick up a few sheets of your assignments as they flew from your grasp, noting your heaving breath and panicked eyes.

Unusually, you were late.

You gave them a quick nod of gratitude before practically sprinting down the last hallway that led to Music Room #3. Your footsteps sank into the soft red carpet as you rounded a corner, but when you actually saw the sign hanging above the club room, you slowed. Stopping to rest on a pillar, you caught your breath, staring at the double doors as you heard bustling activity inside.

Every day for a week, you’ve been stopping outside the room, tracing the painted wood grain and the pink designs with your eyes for what felt like forever. For a week, your heart has constricted into knots while your fingers dug into the stone of the pillar, debating in your mind if you should even walk in.

And every day, for a week, you stepped in time with your anxious heart as a pair of purple eyes flashed behind your eyelids, begging you to just come in. And who could blame you when an image of devastating gray accompanied them.

Swallowing, you pressed your palm against the door, opening it as unceremoniously as you can, before a petite body slams into you.

“Oh, god, sorry, I just-,” Haruhi fumbles over her words as she meets your gaze before trailing off, the worry in her gaze followed by a little bit of awkwardness.

You sucked your cheek into your teeth as you made an effort to look anywhere but her, and settled on a vase of flowers poised near the entrance.

“It’s okay.” You mumble, scratching the back of your head before moving to push past her. “No worries.”

You hear a small, sharp sigh behind you, and a hand wraps around your wrist, much gentler than your nightmares. “(Y/n), wait.”

Haruhi’s calm voice makes your tingling anxiety bloom to your throat as you come to a halt. Turning over your shoulder, your smile is practiced and pristine, the muscles stretching over your lips. “Yeah?”

Her brows furrow at your soft, bright tone, your voice contrasting with your rounded shoulders. “I just…I don’t understand what’s going on.”

Your eyes freeze on hers, and your heart cracks even more.

Since you saw Haruhi lying underneath Kyoya, emotions rattled inside you like a tennis ball ricocheting off the walls of your ribs. Your anger was a bright, fleeting blip. You laid in your bed and frankly abused your pillows. You punched them, screamed into them, or threw them across the room as you tried to process Haruhi’s betrayal. You two had grown so close in such a short amount of time, and she knew you were falling for Kyoya, only to keep it a secret that she had been secretly crushing on him.

In the middle of another swing at your pillow, that thought in your mind, you froze.

She kept it a secret.

Why did she keep it a secret?

Shoulders shuddering with sandpaper breath, you sat back on your knees and faced the window looking out into the ocean.

Haruhi must’ve been harboring her own feelings, keeping them locked away while you flirted and made eyes at the boy she wanted, and she did it so easily. You watch through her eyes as you play off of Kyoya’s banter, work with him late into the night, keep him for yourself as Haruhi is pushed onto the sidelines.

A soft gust of air leaves your lips with a quiet whine, and your face curls into your palms as your spine bows. You're crying again, but for a different reason.

You cry for the friendship you two had. You cry for what it must’ve felt like for her to see you steal all of Kyoya’s time and attention and say nothing. To keep it locked away. Tears rolled for what must’ve felt like the most one-sided sisterhood of the century, and all because of a stupid boy.

Speaking of the boy.

Your anger had then reignited, and your cries turned frustrated. Digging your fingers into your next feathered victim, your punches resumed.

Now, guilt dripped into your chest, mixing with the anxiety and hurt as you stared back at her, but your smile remained true. “What do you mean?”

“Are you avoiding me?” Her voice is blunt, and you cringe internally. You loved Haruhi for being straightforward, it was refreshing from the usual antics of rich people to passively aggressively beat around a bush. But to be on the other end of it was jarring.

Clearing your throat, you look to that same vase again, a lie locked and loaded behind your teeth. “No, no, I just saw that you were leaving, and wanted to get out of your way.”

Haruhi’s eyes deadpan. “If that’s the case, you’ve been getting out of my way all week.” She put air quotes around the words. “Did I do something, Senpai? I know you might be a little…shaken by what happened on the beach, but I feel like you’ve practically tripped over yourself to get away from me lately.”

When you look back at her, you can see the concern whirling through her irises, and the faucet of guilt breaks into a steady stream.

You’ve kept her in the dark, you’ve had too. There was no way you were going to out her relationship with Kyoya without her being ready, and you couldn’t bear the embarrassment of telling her that you saw them together. Empathy floats up in your sternum at her clear confusion, and you fight to make your smile a little more real.

Sighing, you relax your arm, signaling that you weren’t going anywhere, and she releases you. “I’m not ignoring you.” You say gently. “And don’t call me Senpai, it’s weird.”

Her confusion fades into relief as you turn to her, fixing your overflowing backpack onto your shoulders. “Sorry, it’s just when you look at me like you don’t even know me, it’s hard to resist formalities.”

A lump forms in your throat when you realize that it was true. Since she has been hiding so much from you, you didn’t know her. Not as well as you thought you did.

“I’m just tired, no big deal.” Desperate to change the topic, you gesture to her outerwear, the light spring breeze forcing students to wear their light jackets. “Where are you off too?”

“Hikaru and Kaoru asked me to get more instant coffee from the store.” She grumbled, and you almost laughed at the disdain that passed over her face. “I still don’t understand why they can’t go get it themselves.”

“Well, it’s nice of you to help them out.” Turning over your shoulder, you see the two red-haired boys talking jovially with some other guests, chests shaking with gentle laughter. “They seem to be having a good time, thanks to you.”

Haruhi curls an eyebrow. “Thanks to me?”

Sighing, you turn back to her, trying to force yourself through the conversation so that it doesn’t look like you’re avoiding her even though you are, and it’s very complicated and annoying and you hate it.

But a softness comes to your face as you speak. “I haven’t known the twins for as long as some of the others, but I know that they weren’t always this warm and friendly.” A flashback of the boys in a corner reading the same book comes to your mind before you push it away.

“They were quiet, withdrawn, and didn’t have many friends. I worked for a long time to build the trust that we have together, but it was instant between the three of you. It really pulled them out of their shell, little by little.”

You watch Haruhi’s eyes pass behind you as she watches the twins, a thoughtful look on her face. A shot of adoration for her spikes through you instinctually at the fact that she truly didn’t know how much she has impacted the host club in the time she has been here. It makes you want to hug her with all your strength. Tamaki must be rubbing off on you.

But then the image of her looking up at Kyoya as he straddles her replaces that warmth with chilling dread.

“I never really noticed.” She said plainly, shrugging her shoulders.

A reluctant smile formed on your features. “They can sneak up on you.”

Silence falls between you as the rumble of host club chatter fills the space, and the awkwardness rears its ugly head.

“Are you sure we’re okay?” Sincerity spills through her, and it’s all you can do not to cry again.

“We’re fine. And if it seems like we’re not, it’s not you, it’s me.” Partly true, in a way. You jab a thumb over your shoulder, needing to leave the tense air. “I’ll see you in there.”

Turning over your shoulder, your eyes immediately fall onto a lithe waist dressed in a lavender jacket. Arms fold protectively around his blackbook as Kyoya’s attention floods into his calculations, but it’s as if you can feel your eyes on you as he meets your gaze out of the corner of his glasses.

A whole switchboard of emotions alights in your body at the indifference in his eyes as he quickly retreats into his writing again. Blowing out a breath, you spin and walk right past Haruhi. “You know what? I’ll grab the coffee. Be right back.”

This time when you walk across your campus, it’s a slow, deliberate stroll. A paper grocery bag is pressed against your chest as you get lost in your thoughts.

You and Kyoya hadn’t spoken since that day on the beach. Anytime you were around each other, it was terrible and tense. You used to fidget, pacing back and forth in your mind on whether you should say something, anything to him to tell him how you feel, but eventually you didn’t have the energy to be anxious.

The betrayal you felt from Haruhi immediately changed into guilt when you realized what it must’ve been like to keep her true feelings from you. With him, your anger and heartbreak slightly dulled into a constant pressure, always reminding you that at the first sign of trouble between the two of you, Kyoya turned to someone else.

Kyoya had once called you a child for ignoring him after the whole incident with Renge, and yet he has justified himself enough to do the same thing. He’s been quiet, cold, turned off from anything that you had to say that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

But he never made himself scarce. Kyoya wasn’t avoiding you by any means. In fact, he seemed to be anywhere you turned, always giving you ample opportunity to get on your knees and grovel for his forgiveness, as if he was above all this.

As if he hadn’t done anything to rip your heart in two.

Now fuming internally, you decided to wait it out. The two of you were exceptionally stubborn people who were skilled at compacting your emotions into a tight star, ready to burst at any moment.

You decided to see which one of you would be the first to set off a supernova.

The whole situation felt off, and you had no idea why. You never pegged Kyoya as the kind of guy to be so physical with someone he had relatively just met. The glancing touches and the near-kiss instances that you two shared felt special to you, as if you had gained his trust enough to reach a level with him that almost no one else has.

You sighed, blinking back the image of him straddling her waist. Guess it was just another testament to how hard they had fallen for one another.

In your pity party, you didn’t see a rogue banana peel being thrown into your path, and soon the ground is yanked out from under you as you fall backwards.

Limber, strong arms wrap around your shoulders as you tip backwards, and after closing your eyes expecting an impact, you open them to see green eyes staring back at you.

Chest heaving in surprise, you freeze in the strangers arms. Their presence is familiar in a way.

The stranger gets closer, and you realize that despite her more masculine facial structure, it’s a girl that has saved you from falling on your ass.

She poses, dipping you more into her embrace as her smooth, timber voice rolls over your ears. “It’d be a shame for any harm to come to that cute face of yours young lady.”

The startled look in your eye plateaus as you bite your cheek, and you groan internally. This new student steadies you and offers gallantly to walk you back to your glass, and you realize why her energy was so recognizable.

She’s exactly like Tamaki.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Benibara says, keeping her arm firm around your shoulders as she escorts you through the halls of your school.

Wiggling in her hold, your jaw ticked as you tried to force a polite smile. “Really, I am. You don’t have to walk me to class, I’m sure your school is dying to get set up for the cultural exposition.”

Benibara, who confidently introduced herself as the president of the Zuka Club as Lobelia Girls’ Academy, tsks and looks at you with a sultry gleam. “Don’t be silly, (Y/n). Let me make sure you get there safely.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, but follow her anyway. If Kyoya didn’t already want to kill you, he certainly would if you were rude to a student from another school. Not to mention you were in uniform, so they would know exactly where the rude girl belonged.

Her red skirt and white blouse flowed gently around the corner, and you unintentionally froze again as Music Room #3 came into view. Tall, gorgeous Benio turned over her shoulder, her gaze becoming sharp.

“You know, (Y/n), when I asked if you were alright, I wasn’t necessarily talking about your fall.”

You suck in a sharp breath and flick your gaze right back to hers, her eyes looking at you with a deep understanding that almost knocks you off your feet.

And then it annoys you. “I’m fine.” The words are practiced. This is what you’ve been telling yourself on repeat, after all.

“Are you, now? Think you’re above a hard day here and there?” Benio chuckles deeply in her chest before reaching a hand out to graze your cheekbones. “Come now, little sakura, tell me.”

But you pull your face away from her touch, rolling your eyes again as your irritation motivates you to push past her. You almost make it to the club’s door, hearing voices from inside.

“...a little harsh? Fine then, what do you think women want to hear?” Tamaki’s muffled voice floats out into the hallway. Another sigh rolls through you as the topic of their current conversation already feels too intense for your emotional state.

But you don’t have time to open the door yourself as Benibara pulls you back against her from your waist. You feel a bony chest at your back as she seems to levitate towards the club door, her arm firmly wrapped around you as she bursts through it.

Her feminine baritone fills the air of the Music Room. “Maybe something like…” You squeak as you feel her breath on your ear. “I would never leave my lover alone.”

“What the f–?” Your confusion is cut off but also flamed when the arm around your waist pulls, spinning your 360 degrees before you're caught in a dip by her toned arms.

Benio’s lips curl into a smirk as her voice holds a fantastical tone that causes your mind to fog a little. “If we fight, it will be together. If we fail, we fail together.”

Again, you’re whisked to another position. This time your arm is stretched out and Benio is on one knee before you, your palm in hers as she brings it to touch her lips. “Even if I were to die, I promise you that I will never leave your side, my love.”

Your eyebrow twitches for a moment, a blush deepening on your cheeks. Looking to the side, you see your host club dressed as knights, armor shining dramatically in the natural light from the windows, and you sigh, eyeing their protective costumes.

You could’ve been wearing armor against this girl too if you hadn’t left to go run errands.

The idiotic trio’s mouths fall open as you are spun and held against another student, and Tamaki’s eyes seem to bloom to twice their size. You see two other girls in uniforms similar to Benibara’s run up to her with large, adoring smiles on their faces.

“Benibara! We thought you’d never show!” One of them says, her short hair bouncing with her movements.

Another taller girl with a deeper voice and longer hair strides to Benio’s otherside, giving you a long look. “What’re we going to do with you? So, tell us where you found this lovely lady.”

All three women are looking at you with an interest that you’ve only seen from your guests, and you feel a headache coming on. Not just because they were staring at you with a protective interest that you’ve only seen from your guests, but also because they were so goddamn beautiful.

What kind of blood oath did you have to make to get their bone structure?

Benio’s chuckle rang close to your ears as she stood, still holding your hand. “I just met her outside of the school. She may look plain, but I knew the truth to her beauty. She has such gorgeous eyes.” The taller woman leans in, her lithe finger gracing your cheekbones as she stares deeply into your irises.

Wincing, you turn your face away from her as you back up, only to run into the shorter, peppier one.

Her high voice exclaims an excited gasp as her fingers dip under your sleeve, forcing the fabric of your lavender coat up to feel the soft skin underneath.

Your jaw clenches as she forcefully takes your hand, your annoyance building. “Wow, her skin is incredibly soft!”

“Could you not?” You ask softly yet firmly, but it’s overshadowed as the third student kneels in front of you, running her hand over your bare thigh and calf with amazement.

Her hand runs over your healing cut, the band aid with hearts still attached to your skin. “Isn’t it though?” She marvels as her fingers prod over your leg. “I think we found a diamond in the rough!”

Seeing her hand pass over your cut ignites a sharp reaction from you, and you push all three women off, ripping your limbs away from their grasp. “Would you all stop? God, ever heard of personal space?”

Your shoulders heave in the middle of the club room as the women stare you down, their eyes wide in amazement. Looking past them, you see the boys watching you tentatively, knowing where your outburst is coming from.

But then Benio’s mouth curves down, not from disappointment, but in sympathy. Her long legs make their way over to you slowly, and her hand reaches towards you, an olive branch.

“You’ve been hurt, yes?”

Her words spill over you like ice water, and a shot of embarrassment pierces through your chest. Was it that obvious?

“What?”

“Someone hasn’t treated you well. Someone hurt you.” That same understanding from before shades into her pupils, and it takes everything in you not to retreat from her form. She studies the way that you roll your shoulders with a conjured formidability that had to have been practiced and reconsiders her words. “Or maybe, people hurt you.”

Her bluntness is laced with caramel-like kindness that completely blows the wind out of you. You just stare at her for a long minute, not knowing what to say as she comes closer and closer, cautiously stepping towards the deer in the headlights.

This time when her hand finds your face, you don’t pull away. She hums in pity, tapping her finger under your chin. “Ladies, this princess is suffering. Trapped in a place where she is underappreciated and lost.”

Their eyes swim with tears with the grace of a celebrity on screen, gorgeous eyes glistening with the moisture. They whine to you as they immediately embrace you again, two pairs of arms coming around your waist.

“It’s such a shame!” Leaning their heads into your shoulder, their cries dampen the intensity of the moment, and your annoyance rises again to a dull buzz.

Your face falls flat as they fret over you, but you let them. If it’ll get them to leave faster, so be it.

But Tamaki couldn’t stand it for another second.

The host club has stood back long enough and watched you run yourself into the ground. Most of them have done all they could think of. Hikaru and Kaoru try to make you laugh, and sometimes it works. Sometimes you’re doubled over, clutching your sides while trying to catch your breath and the twins think that the storm has finally passed. But the next day, you’ll kindly shake your head and walk away, leaving them lost on what to do next.

Mori and Honey have been feeding you, making sure that you’ve eaten lunch when you are scheduled too, and sending you with plenty of sweet treats and things they know you enjoy before you leave school for the day. Even after Mori had offered their dojo to you, you still had yet to show up, and that was worrying. The cousins thought it was because it was hard to bring yourself out of bed in the morning.

Tamaki and Haruhi showered you with attention when you allowed it. You did sometimes, but mostly from Tamaki. His heart sputtered in confusion when you would turn your gaze away from his brunette honor student, but he figured it was just because she reminded you of that day on the cliff. The blonde was constantly at your side. During class, club hours, any time you didn’t completely shove him off gave him an opportunity to show him that he was there for you.

As his purple eyes watched your blank expression while foreign hands touched you, his eyes shot to Kyoya, a dramatic glare in his gaze. Kyoya felt his best friend’s eyes on him and met his stare before rolling his eyes behind his glasses.

The blonde saw Kyoya’s Adam's apple bob for a second, and he knew that the Ootori son was holding himself back. Tamaki groaned internally as Kyoya kept up the same facade he’s been portraying for the past week. The facade of disinterest.

And frankly, Tamaki had had enough.

Another flare of irritation fired into the prince’s chest as Kyoya simply shook his head slightly, stubbornly folding his arms across his waist. But when Tamaki studied him closely, he caught the sharp way Kyoya’s eyes narrowed at the way this tall woman was cradling your face.

Tamaki huffed when he realized Kyoya still wasn’t going to do anything and immediately rushed forward, wanting to save you like he always does.

“Don’t you go touching mon ami without asking my permission!” He yelled, reaching towards your form with a protective urge.

But you watched as a fist connected to Tamaki’s pristine features, and your jaw dropped as Benio sent him flying, the other two women wrapping their arms tighter around you. Your prince’s blonde hair whips with the force as he is sent flying back towards the other hosts.

He lands on his butt with a whine, and his hand comes up to his cheek. “She punched me! So violent!”

Honey-senpai scolds him as Tamaki sprawls on the ground, holding Usa-chan in his grasp. “Pull yourself together!”

Finally, the female trio lets go of you as they put themselves between you and the host club. A sigh rolled out of your lungs, and you watched two dramatic forces clash together like swords. Beni stands, her long form towering over Tamaki after knocking him to his feet.

“Guess the rumors we heard are true.” She speaks, utter confidence lacing her tone. “You guys are just a bunch of weak little punks with no sense between you.”

A distinct sigh passes over the host club, one that topples another rock onto the stone pile in your stomach.

“These uniforms.” Kyoya’s voice is cold, precise as he pushes his glasses onto his nose. “I assume you ladies are from Lobelia Girls’ Academy?”

Benibara’s hair swishes as she twirls, her attention completely lost to you. Another smug grin traces her lips as she strikes another pose, her hand poised just so. “That’s correct.”

Flashes of color and cloth pass by your vision as the three girls rip off their uniforms, revealing extravagant costumes underneath. Bouncy skirts fall to the pink tiles from the waist of the taller girl, the shorter one sporting something pink that went to mid-thigh. Beni rises in a tux, perfectly tailored to her slim figure. It seems like spotlights shine down on them as they pop up from their poses one by one, glitter in their irises.

“Lobelia~” Benibara stands, a baritone note rising from her lips.

“Lobelia~” An alto sound follows as the middle-height blonde rises, her toes pointed and chin lifted in the air.

“Lobelia~” Soprano fills your ears as the last one sings, her arms stretched out as she picks one leg up.

You stared at them incredulously, confusion and a little bit of admiration in your thoughts as they harmonized. How many times had they rehearsed this? When did they rehearse this?

…Did the host club need a theme song too?

Your thoughts were interrupted when Benibara pulled out a flower and you realized, Oh…it wasn’t over.

“St. Lobelia Academy, high school 2nd year, Benio Amakuska.” She said as she passed in front of you, placing a lily in your hands before posing again. “Lady of the Crimson Rose, A.K.A Benibara.”

You stopped the rude scoff bubbling into your throat. God, they even had nicknames? The blonde steered toward you, her walk graceful as the blue dress flowed at her ankles. “2nd year student, Chizuru Maihara.” Chizuru’s right hand unfurls a small fan as her left places another lily in your hands.

Lastly, the shortest one twirls, placing the last lilly into your hand before posing next to her friends. “1st year student, Hinako Tsuwabuki!”

“We are the members of the St. Lobelia Academy’s White Lilly League.” Beni said, posing her top hat in front of her face with a flirtatious grace. “Also known as…!” Sending her hat into the air with pizazz, the three girls twirl, the arms opening so wide that you have to make your way over next to Hikaru and Kaoru to give them more room.

They spin with so much force that the petals on their lilies fall off the flower and are sent around the room, twisting in a flurry as they cover the girls. When the flowers dissipate, the Lobelia students have somehow changed outfits again, poofy dresses and intricate fanned headdresses adorning their heads. Their hands are outstretched, large smiles on their faces as they fall into a final pose.

“The Zuka Club!”

Blinking slowly, you close your agape mouth. The silence in the club room lengthens, before you and your twins could no longer hold it in anymore.

Deep chuckles expel from your chest as you wheeze, tears quickly filling your eyes as you drop to the floor. Hikaru and Kaoru are quick behind you, their backs arching as Hikaru slaps the floor with each bellow of his laughter, trying to catch his breath.

“The Zuka Club?! Oh man, what a stupid name! My stomach hurts!”

Kaoru can barely agree with his brother, his voice cracking with an effort to breathe. “The Zuka Club?! That’s priceless!”

“They-They had those get ups under their uniforms!” You shout, clutching your side as you lean on Kaoru’s shoulder.

You three continue to bellow, and it feels like old times for a moment. The ease of being around the host club returns into your bones like muscle memory, and it felt like nothing had changed for you.

But then the ground begins to tremble, machine’s whirring in a dark, unknown place. Your laughter halts, and as your gaze follows the tiered platform as it rises from the polished tiles of Music Room #3, you sigh, your mood rotting the peacefulness you felt.

“You shouldn’t underestimate the Zuka Club!”

A certain brunette sits atop this tier, a tea cup perfectly placed in her hand, her fingers bringing it to her lips. She seemed almost serene atop a patio chair and table, an umbrella shading her from the artificial ceiling light.

And then she spoke.

“I may not know much about instant coffee, but I am fascinated with girls’ schools.” Renge’s voice fills the club room, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. You wonder who else will come into this room and play with the frayed edges of your patience?

She takes a sip out of her cup before spitting it out immediately, instant coffee splattering down onto the second tier of her platform. “St. Lobelia Academy! It is truly a woman’s world there!” Renge stands, and she gets that distant, dreamy look in her eye you’ve seen too many times before. Despite the perfectly good table in front of her, Renge discards her tea cup and saucer to the floor, the porcelain crashing with an annoying clang.

“The Zuka Club is a group of young maidens who consider women to be superior in every way! The club prides itself on it’s 30 year history. It’s a society of maidens, by maidens, for maidens! Their activities include maiden tea parties, debate forums, and the musical reviews performed by their top members.”

Glancing over to Benibara, you see a satisfied smile on her face, pride gleaming in her green irises as she watches Renge recount her successes. You can see how people follow her so easily. She makes you want to be apart of that feeling of comfort, of accomplishment.

“Well.” A clang of armor sounds against a desk, and you tense your shoulders. Slowly following the gaze of the crowd, you watch as Kyoya fixes his tie onto his button down. During Renge’s speech, the men had switched out of the knight costumes with a speed that is only achieved through years of practice. Or in this case, weeks.

You let your eyes catch a glimpse of his sharp jawline before you direct them to the floor again. It was too hard.

Kyoya cleared his throat, his voice resonating. “You sure have a vast world of knowledge, Renge.”

The brunette laughs, flicking a hand at the director. “Well, I’ve always admired Lobelia Academy. I just couldn’t go to school there, though.” She put her hands on her cheeks as if she was facing her worst nightmare. “Just what would I do without any boys?”

With that, she descended into the floor, waiting like a jack in the box under the tile; to spring up when least expected.

Chizuru places her hands together, the tips of her delicate fingers tracing her lips. “A maiden’s beauty.” Her voice was soft but determined, as if passing on a valuable piece of information. “It means possessing a spirit pure enough to not give in to power or to lust.”

Hinako’s bobbed hair bounces up to the side of her friend as they face the host club together. “As a girl, you…for a girl, you…! We’ve had quite enough of all your oppressive male contempt for womenkind.

“And our pride,” Beni’s baritone floats through the room, vibrating lightly against the host’s club’s windows. “It comes from having meaningful relationships based on equality.” Beni holds her hands out to the two other girls, and they cuddle into her side. It would’ve been sweet if there wasn’t a migraine blossoming it’s way to the front of your skull.

“Because we are the same sex, and yes, that means relationships of love.” A mischievous sparkle floats in her eye that confuses you. Does this woman think she invented lesbianism?

Shrugging, you sigh, turning your back and stepping away from the chaos, mumbling a small ‘whatever floats your boat’ as you cross the ever spacious club room.

You catch a glimpse of blonde hair and a hunched lavender form at one of the windowsills, and you make your appearance at Tamaki’s side.

“Tamaki?” You ask, reaching your hand out to touch his shoulder, only to find it shaking. “What’s going on with you?”

He looks to you, eyes wide, his purple pupils shrunken to violet dots. “Th-these girls! They’re talking nonsense!”

You laugh slightly, putting both of your hands on his shoulders and massaging them. “I think they are just trying to scare you.”

“Well, it’s working!” His voice carries, but you turn to find that the host club is too preoccupied with the Zuka Club to notice. “Who does this girl think she is anyway, huh? Touching you like that? Saying these…these…words that I can’t bear to hear!”

“Tamaki, Tamaki…” You say softly, a fond amusement warming your smile. “Just chill for a second, okay? I think you might be having a bit of a culture shock.”

“Culture shock?!” His wide-eyed attention locks on you, and he brings his voice down to a hiss. “What’s that?”

“How about we just lay down, yeah?” You suggest through a giggle. Putting his arm through yours, you lead him to the bed that Honey-senpai uses for his naps. Pulling back the baby blue comforter, you sit him on the edge of the bed. You flip the pillow over onto it’s cool side, and Tamaki immediately realizes how much his outburst took out of him. Sleepy, violet gems become hooded as he looks up at you from his restful cloud.

“This is not how it’s supposed to go.”

Still humored, you tilt your head, playing along. “And how is it supposed to go, exactly?”

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around.”

Your heart drops, your chest heaving with a sigh. Flashes of Tamaki greeting you at the door of the music room, a little bit too eager and standing a little too close play in your mind.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you pat him on the head, turning on your heel to leave him to rest. “We can take care of each other.”

Rejoining the rest of the club, you sink into the red couch as the Zuka Club continues to brag about their progressive ways, making you swallow another scoff.

The host club wasn’t listening to them either. Honey and Usa-chan watched Mori practice his sword skills, while Kaoru fiddles with the groceries you had brought back. Your eyes travel over Hikaru’s shoulder as he plays on his DS, Mario bouncing across the screen.

A shadow casts on the other side of the couch, Kyoya’s spine curled around his book. Your curiosity catches a page that was filled with writing, but blank in the edges. No spirals.

Hikaru interrupts the Zuka Club’s ramblings, his bored tone piercing their flirty air. “Whatever. Honestly, we are so over it.” He leans back, his shoulder brushing with yours as he props his feet up on the table, his gaze never leaving the game.

Kaoru examines another thing of instant coffee from the brown paper bag, his tone, like most of his mannerisms, mirroring his brother’s. “What don’t you gals just scram?”

The Zuka Club stands there stuttering at their rudeness, and your gaze flicks to Benibara’s, her eyes suspiciously watching the six of you.

But Hinako huffs, a haughty tone lacing her words. “I find it hard to believe that you silly boys have nothing to say about our sublime female love.”

But Hikaru just leaned towards you, speaking out of the side of his mouth without breaking his attention from his game. “What the hell is she even talking about?”

A giggle caught behind your lips, and Kaoru continued to show disinterest, facing towards you and showing you the label. “I’ve never seen this brand before, it’s clear (Y/n) bought the groceries this time around.”

This time, a scoff left your lips, and you picked up a throw pillow and chucked it at his head.

The blonde Zuka member rolled her eyes, pitifully sighing as she caressed Beni’s cheek. “You should feel sorry for them, Benio. Now they are all flustered, and they don’t know what to do with themselves!”

Benibara just nodded gravely before another smirk lit up her lips. “True, though I must say that I’m glad we decided to perform here. It was fun to sneak a peek at the notorious host club.”

Honey perked up at that, swinging his legs off the edge of the couch as he looked at his cousin. “Hey, are we really notorious?”

Mori swings his sword before gracefully setting it onto his shoulder. “Yeah.”

Someone yawned.

Benibara huffed, the lack of attention drawing irritation from her gut as she quickly scooped forward, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards her again. She holds your arm up around her shoulders, her other hand lightly cradling her chin. Your jaw sets.

“And to think, they’re dragging this sweet, young girl down with them.”

“I told you, I’m fine.” You argued, your voice steely and taut.

But she ignores you, pushing you away. As you stumble out of her grasp, you straighten your uniform, watching as she basks at the hosts’ attention once again now that she had grabbed you. You were only a means to an end.

“Well, the host club’s president may be a pretty little halfer, but he shouldn’t be using his looks to create a fictitious romance!”

Another flare of annoyance sparks at her words, and you take a step toward her. “Don’t call him that.”

But she ignores you, relishing in the rising of emotion. Much better than the clear, piercing boredom. “Oh, attempting to fool the heart of a poor maiden is demeaning! Your so-called club activities are nothing more than debasing macho fantasies! I promise you, we will bring you guys down, the Ouran Host club will be abolished!”

You stopped in your tracks, the tiles on the floor almost seeming like glue traps, your black dress shoes wanting to sink and never budge.

Abolish the host club? For what, creating fun little scenes?

You had never thought that your club was playing with the hearts of the boys and girls at this school. You thought they relished in the attention, the fantasy. But your mind rushed to the sweet girl who had kissed your cheek, hope in her eyes.

And now you were one of the maidens, your foolish heart in the hands of a raven-haired puppeteer.

Is this what you made your guests feel like?

“I see.” As if someone had whispered your thoughts in his ear, Kyoya closed his book, the leather-bound pages snapping closed as he pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose. His voice fell into a practiced politeness, but his eyes flared. “I understand your concern. But do you think that maybe we could finish this later?”

Beni’s chest puffed, her voice challenging the words of the megane, twisting them. “Are you saying that you’re not going to face us?”

The edge of Kyoya’s lips twitched, and he met her gaze. “Not at all.”

His pale hand gestures to where Tamaki still slept, his face exhausted and weary as he mumbles in his dreams.

“It’s just that our president is still bed-ridden from his initial culture-shock.”

You wanted to ask him how he knew that, but you knew the answer. Kyoya was always observing.

Honey giggles, having no problem with his nap spot being used. “You see, Tama-chan is having his nappy right now.”

Benibara clenches her fist at her sides. “Then wake him up!” She yells, and you fume. No matter how much she has shaken your day today, no one needed to interfere with Tamaki.

Your feet unstuck themselves, but before you could give her a piece of your mind, Haruhi appeared in front of you, a full tray in her hands. The honor student shot a glance back at you, a look telling you she could handle this, and placed a sweet smile on her lips.

“‘Scuse me, I just made some coffee.” She offers, her face calming and nurturing. “Would you ladies like to have some?”

The tall, handsome girl looked like she was about to faint with gratitude, and her sour mood lightened immediately. “Why yes, aren’t you the sweetest thing?”

The three of them smile at Haruhi as they take their respective tea cups, complimenting her whole-heartedly.

“You know, coffee made by a maiden always has a more fragrant aroma.”

Haruhi’s hands tighten on the tray, her surprise mirroring the rest of the host club’s when Benibara confirms Haruhi’s sex.

“What? Wait a minute…” You begin to stutter, the other hosts frozen instantly without knowing what to say.

The flirty Lobelia student just scoffs, soaking in the scent of the coffee as she dismisses you immediately. “Oh please, don’t try to hide it. She may be dressed as one of these boys, but I knew the truth. What kind of lover would I be if I didn’t appreciate and recognize the beauty of my own sex? And the way they make their coffee.” She serenades, winking at Haruhi over the edge of her tea cup.

“But, uh…” Haruhi starts, her brain reconnecting its wires. “This stuff’s just instant.”

Hinako just coos, walking towards Haruhi and twirling her hair. “How about we all have a tea party?” She asks, smiling your way.

“You’ve got it all wrong!” The entire room jolts when Tamaki bursts out of his bed, his teeth baring as his eyes zero in on Hinako’s finger tangled in Haruhi’s locks. “Don’t you see that our host club isn’t what you think it is? We give them hope! Love! Fantasy from their daily routine!” He stomped over, almost running as he crossed the pink floor.

“If we really were stooping as low as you believe, then why do people keep coming back?!” He cries, his arm jutting out to rip Hinako away from his precious honor student, but his momentum didn’t carry him that far. Instead, somehow, with impressive accuracy, his bare finger lands smack dab in the center of Hinako’s tea cup, dipping into the boiling coffee.

“Hot! Hot, hot, hot!” Tamaki staggers backwards, wagging his finger before he trips over himself and falls, ungracefully, to the floor.

Haruhi’s eyes widen, and she quickly hands the tray over to you before crossing the room. Before you can blink, Haruhi is kneeling in front of Tamaki, rummaging through her school jacket before she is taking a thing of bandages from her coat.

“You have to be more careful, Senpai.” She sighs, her eyebrow creasing slightly as she holds out her hand for his.

Tamaki blinks slightly, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. Slowly, he places his hands in hers. Her fingers work gently, spiraling the bandage around his finger, her brown eyes concentrated on healing the burn.

So she may not notice, but you do when Tamaki’s gaze trails over her soft features for a millisecond longer than you might expect him too.

You swallow, focusing on the shining porcelain on your tray, your reflection warped against the tea kettle. There was a time when you looked at someone like that, and had thought they had seen you similarly.

“Thanks, Haruhi.” Tamaki says, his voice soft. You look up to see him staring at his finger, the pair kneeling next to each other. “Do you always carry bandages around with you?”

Haruhi just shakes her head, simpering at him with a smile that makes his eyes drop to her lips before flicking back to her gaze. “Nah, the supermarket gives them out for free with the purchase of instant coffee. I got them when I went yesterday.” She tilts her head just so, and you watch the blush darken on Tamaki’s cheeks. “You always get free stuff at the supermarket.”

“Free stuff?” His voice is drifting, clearly lost in some other thought that didn’t include any bandages.

A deeper voice ruins their moment, and your hands grasp tightly on the tray. “Well, this conversation isn’t going anywhere.”

With gusto, Beni raises Haruhi to her feet, making Tamaki gasp and almost reach out for her.

Almost.

Two arms encircle your waist as another pair relieves the tray from your grasp, and you are tugged into a group hug with the Lobelia girls and Haruhi. Their arms drape over your shoulders as you're pressed into the blonde’s chest, Hinako leaning against your arm.

“Now that we know what is going on,” Beni announces, her hand wrapped neatly over Haruhi’s waist as she presses the honor student to her chest, “We can’t allow these maidens to stay here! We will prepare their paperwork and have them transferred to Lobelia at once! And, we’ll welcome them to the Zuka Club!”

You gasp against Chizuru’s chest, before breaking away from the group. Stumbling, you shake your head.

Keeping your composure was trying, your voice shaking as you reminded yourself to keep up appearances. Your wits were already worn, your headache growing exponentially at these girls’ antics. But you swallowed, shaking your head and willing the social training you had experienced your entire life.

“Listen, I understand that you are trying to help here, I do. But the way you are going about it is abrasive, assuming, and quite frankly, ignorant.” The three girls tensed at your tone, Beni folding her arms. Your anger from the past few days simmers into an urge to put yourself on a pedestal, to stand as if you’re better than them in every way.

Your posture straightens, but right before you are about to give them a piece of your mind, Haruhi interrupts, standing in front of you.

“Just, everyone wait a second, okay?” Haruhi reconciles, her hands waving in a peaceful gesture. “I think there may be some misunderstandings here. I mean, first of all, you called Senpai a halfer!” She says, giggling.

You step forward, peeking out from behind her shoulder. “Cause he is. Even though the term is outdated,” You spit, sharply looking at Benibara, “Tamaki is half-french and half-japanese.”

Haruhi stutters, trying to correct herself. “Well, uh, I don’t think it’s fair to pick on the host club just because they might not have the same history as you!” She claims innocently, and you deadpan.

“Actually,” You wince. “We barely have any history, we were just founded two years ago when Tamaki started the club when he started high school.”

The honor student’s shoulder’s slump, and her head lolls to the side. “Be that as it may, saying their club activities are just held to satisfy their appetites is wrong. I mean, we don’t even charge them.”

You plant your face in your hands. “Oh no, Haruhi…”

“While I wouldn’t call it a charge, we do have a point system.” You all turn to see Kyoya leaning casually against one of the tables of the Music Room, his laptop sat on top as he pulls up a website.

Haruhi’s eyebrow creases, and you lead her to the laptop. “We offer a kind of priority service,” you explain, moving to the other side of the laptop and presenting it. “They are based on the winning bids of auctions held on our website.”

Kyoya hums. “Check this out, Haruhi. Your mechanical pencil just sold for a winning bid of 30,000 yen.” He smiles back at her, the fake one that stretches his thin lips. “Good for you.”

You nod curtly, trying to read Haruhi’s shocked expression as you move to close out of the window on the laptop, but Kyoya had the same plan. Your fingers brush his on the same button, and both of your gazes sharply meet, snapping like a rubber band.

And suddenly, you’re back.

Back to when you were Kyoya’s right-hand man, back to the study sessions in your room, the moments on moonlit piano benches. The dances, the cherry blossom trees, late-night phone calls, and the sunset-colored glances and grazes. It takes everything in you to swallow the ball of sunshine that engulfs your sternum, and remind yourself of the darkness you had seen. And the shapes in that darkness.

He’s the one that breaks eye contact first, and that’s when that darkness turns to ice, settling deep into your stomach.

Before you could take your own hand off the keyboard, Haruhi rushed forward, rattling off complaints.

“I thought I had lost that pencil!” She whines as she scrolls through the items up for sale. She looks up at you. “Why didn’t you tell me this before? I didn’t know you were collecting money.”

“To be fair”, You shrug, putting on your best ‘I-swear-I’m-more-innocent-than-you-think-I-am’ face, “I don’t choose what goes on the site. That is the director’s job.”

Kyoya scoffs, fixing his glasses with a sharper shove than normal when Haruhi’s accusing gaze lands on him. “What, you expect us all to work as volunteers?”

More gently, you try to explain. “While it’s not much, our club makes a small profit off of these auctions.”

“Oh, really? You’re okay with this?” Haruhi asks, huffing as she continues scrolling.

“Okay with it is a stretch, but it isn’t the worst thing-”

“Then look at this.” Her finger freezes on the mouse pad and flips it around, shoving the computer in your direction before folding her arms across her chest.

Leaning in, you gasp, the pixelated image forming the last thing you thought you would see on that site.

Four pictures were being sold as a bundle, two you had unfortunately seen before, and two others that shoved your heart into your throat.

Two of them were the pictures that had been offered as the prize for the Scare Challenge on the beach, your drool and your middle-school Ice Bucket fail had been put up for the world to see.

But the other two were more intimate. A sparkling blue dress dressed your figure as the twins hurried around you, sparkles in their eyes. And another where you had lifted the camera with a cheesy smile, catching Kyoya off guard after being enlisted as the club’s private photographer.

Only one person had access to these photos anymore, since you had wiped them from all other accounts.

“Kyoya…” Your voice was chilled and rough, this was the first time you had said his name in days. “What…why are these on here?”

There was silence on his end, causing you to flick your eyelids up to see him completely ignoring you and writing something in his notebook.

“Kyoya.” You try again, more firmly. Spinning the computer his way, you enhance the image. “What the hell are these doing here?”

Still no response. He instead flips a page and begins walking around the table the computer is perched on and out of your path.

But you stop him.

Your frustration flames and you’re in front of him in minutes, ripping his book from his fingers. That gets his attention.

His eyes meet yours for the first time in what feels like centuries, and apparently that time had erased any warmth those eyes once held for you. Now, his gaze is piercing, the gray that used to represent a calm fog sculpted into a thunderstorm.

“Give it back, (Y/n).” Even the way he said your name was strained, every syllable stretched and unnatural.

“Not until I get an answer.” With his journal tucked neatly to your side, you harshly point to the computer screen. “Why are those pictures on there? You know those are not meant to be public. They were just for you.”

“They’re optimal items to sell. Anything that can humanize our hosts is extremely valuable to our guests, which I shouldn’t have to explain to you.” The muscles in jaw pulses, and you heave a breath at the superiority in his voice.

“You were the only person with those copies, and I asked you to never share those with anyone. You knew how embarrassing, how personal my life can be, and you said you would keep them to yourself. You promised-”

“I never promised anything.”

“Please.” You rolled your eyes. “You were so proud to have those pictures, and you just gave them away like that? What were you thinking?”

“I no longer have a reason to keep those pictures in my possession. They were taking up space in my books, and I needed to make room.”

You scoffed, emotion blocking your larynx. “For what?”

“For more important matters.”

The room was so quiet, you were sure everyone heard your heart break.

Your grip on the leather material of his black booklet tightened, and your chest stuttered. But you held your ground. Once again, you knew that if you let your emotions take over, they would never stop, and you just had to get yourself together. Yanking the booklet from under your arm, you slammed it so hard into his chest as you walked past him, you heard him grunt as he caught his balance.

“Hope it was worth it.” You breathed, willing your voice not to crack.

You stormed towards the entrance, only to be blocked by glowing blonde hair.

“Oh, you poor thing. I can’t believe they’ve been deceiving you.” Chizuru whines, sympathy potent in her voice as she wraps her form around you.

Before you can snap at her, Beniobara comes around and pulls her off of you, her strong hands on the younger one’s shoulders. “Give her a moment, Chizuru, both of these young maidens have had quite a day.”

Benio leads the three of her girls towards the doors, which blow open dramatically on their own somehow. “We will give you both some time to think about it, and will be back tomorrow for your answer. Adieu, Host Club.” Waving with the grace of a queen, the Zuka Club disappears around the corner, leaving the aftermath of their intrusion unattended.

The safety of the hallway is too tempting this time, and your feet make their way towards your exit before you can even think twice.

“Wait, (N/n)-chan-” Honey’s voice calls for you, but you just call over your shoulder.

“I have to go. I have some thinking to do.” You say, voice low but reinforced as it echoes across the pink walls of the host club.

The host's watch with concerned gazes as your figure disappears, Haruhi’s lips settling into a line.

“Yeah, I better head out too.” She says, but Tamaki’s hand shoots out to grab her shoulder.

“Wait, Haruhi, we’re sorry! It’s not like we were hiding it from you, you can have my pencil!” He whines, and he holds out his own mechanical pencil, a small teddy bear taking the place of the eraser.

“I don’t want your pencil, Senpai. You boys can’t just go doing whatever you want, whenever you feel like it.” She says, turning around and taking a turn out of the Music Room.

Suddenly, Tamaki’s sad whimper turned into a growl as he whipped around, his gaze targeting a certain megane.

“What have you done, you stupid man! You just added fuel to the fire!”

“Facts are the facts, Tamaki.” Kyoya breathes, boredom flowing into his tone as he perches his glasses on his nose. “If they can’t handle a few inconveniences, then they’ll have to deal with it themselves. They’re smart.”

“But they’re not made of steel.” Hikaru said, folding his arms as he went to Tamaki’s side. “How could you do that to (Y/n)?”

“Please, she’s fine. She just needs to blow off some steam-”

“She is not fine.” Kaoru explains, less aggressive than his brother but still fiery. “She hasn’t been for days.”

“And Haruhi is already indifferent, but we know she tends to favor men’s clothing, and she said that getting fussed over by a bunch of girls might not be that bad.” Honey said, worry etching into his features.

“And we know (Y/n) loves us, but how long is she supposed to deal with Kyoya icing her out?” Tamaki expresses, jabbing a finger into his best friend’s chest.

“I am not icing her out. We are simply not speaking until she apologizes for what happened on the beach. She knows this.”

“She already apologized, you dimwit! She came crying to me with a cut on her leg about how bad she was feeling!”

“Yeah!” The twins agreed. “At dinner, she said she felt bad…”

“I haven’t heard any of this from her.” Kyoya stated, feeling a pit grow in his chest. You had apologized to everyone but him? That thought shouldn’t have stung as much as it did.

“No, no, I pushed her out of the room and she was definitely on her way to you.” Tamaki insisted, his anger diffusing into hot confusion. “She didn’t talk to you?”

“No, she didn’t.” His words were a lot shorter than he had meant them to be, but Kyoya was done hearing about how little you thought of your relationship with him. How you had put him so low on your list of priorities, pushed him aside like everyone else in his life.

“You should talk to her.” Mori’s voice added a base to the confused mumbles that rumbled through the club room.

“I will not.” Kyoya almost scoffed. “She is the one who needs to apologize, as she is the one in the wrong.”

“You both are!” Hikaru emphasized, getting into Kyoya’s face. “You’re both so fucking stubborn, neither of you see how much you’re affecting the other.”

“Her behavior has not affected me in the slightest-”

“Oh, give us a break!” Hikaru was about to give Kyoya a piece of his mind before Kaoru took over, pulling his brother back to his side and shushing him.

“Give it up, Hikaru, he won’t listen to us.”

Tamaki leveled his gaze with the Ootori son. “Do you want Haruhi to leave the club, Kyoya?”

“She can’t. Her debt is too substantial to pay back within such a small time frame-”

“Lobelia academy could easily pay her debt off, Kyoya-senpai.” Kaoru said, both brothers seething at him.

“Well, it would be…unfortunate, if she was to go, but if that was what she wanted-”

“What about (Y/n), then?” Tamaki interrupted him. “Do you want her to leave this club? This school?”

Kyoya paused, his gaze snapping to Tamaki. “She isn’t going to leave over something as little as this. She loves the Host Club.”

“She loves this club because of us. Because of you.” Hikaru says, his voice grumbly.

“What happens if that goes away?” Kaoru adds. “Does (Y/n) think so little of herself that she would just take the rude comments and invasions of privacy?”

“That is not what I-”

“Stop being mean, Kyo-chan.” Honey warns, his face crumpled into a scary pout. “It’s hurting her feelings.”

“She’s thinking of leaving the club, Kyoya. I can tell.” Tamaki’s mouth twists, as if he is so uncomfortable with that fact, that it makes him squirm inside his own skin.

The megane stops talking, and the boys can tell that he is registering their words. Slowly, he takes off his glasses and wipes them with the tail of his shirt, taking a deep breath.

“I won’t be apologizing. This kind of thing needs to be worked out between the two of us, without any interference from any of you. It will be resolved within its own time.” The hosts deflate as Kyoya works on a stubborn smudge within his lens, and Hikaru is about to step forward and give him another piece of his mind before Kyoya speaks up again.

“However, you’re right. (Y/n)’s services have brought in a great number of guests, and therefore income, to this club, and it would be a loss to let her leave without some effort.”

Kyoya picks up his glasses and gently places them back on the ridge of his nose, the light catching onto the frames. “What can I do to help?”

Tamaki just sighs, rolling his violet eyes. “It’s not enough, but I’ll take it.” Clapping his palms, he brings his friends into a huddle, his leadership skills beginning to shine.

“Listen up gentlemen, we will keep our ladies no matter what! It will be alright. If you listen to me, I have come up with a plan!”

Bunkyo’s city streets bustled with noise. Footsteps falling on the sidewalk, voices calling over car horns and barking dogs. But nothing was louder than your thoughts. You had long dried your tears, and after sitting in the rose maze for a little while, you were able to collect your thoughts.

You picked yourself from that gazebo, feeling lonely in the absence of someone beside you, and decided to treat yourself to a pastry from a favorite cafe. You need support from yourself now more than ever.

Everything had become clear at that moment. You didn’t mean anything to Kyoya anymore. You were simply one of his acquaintances that he kept arm’s length, offering them fake smiles and short words. And how were you supposed to work in the club like that? Without the warm glances and small touches? Without the words of encouragement, the quiet nights of working in each other’s space?

How could you sit back and watch as Haruhi took your place?

You cursed your lip as it trembled, and you looked up at the sky to keep your tears at bay. You didn’t want to cry anymore, you just wanted it to be over.

But just as you were about to walk into the cafe, you collided with a torso longer than your entire body, and you gasped as hot, hot coffee drenched your school uniform. Flinging back, you peeled the wet fabric off your torso, cringing at how the brown color stained the pristine, white cotton. Dropping your shoulders, you were about to confront this long torso, or at least whine at them while you suppress your second breakdown of the day, before you see the head attached to it.

“Oh my god, oh no, (L/n)? God, I am so sorry!” Brown eyes scan over your form in worry, and before you can protest, Arai is shoving his long brown jacket off his shoulders and shoving it into your arms. “Clean it with this! They’re the same color anyway. Dab the stain, don’t rub it in, it will just make it worse.”

He tries to do it himself as he scrambles out more apologies, but then he realizes that he is dabbing too close to your chest and immediately throws the jacket at you. “Oh god, sorry! I didn’t mean-I mean, I was just trying to help, because I didn’t see you! So I thought-”

“Dear god, Arai, calm down.” You clutch the jacket with one hand, the other extending to rest on his shoulder. And then you’re seeing his wild expression, worry and horror clear as day on his freckled face, and you’re laughing.

The noise lifts into the air, above the commotion of the city, and it feels good. You try to remember the last time you laughed like this, but it’s been too long, so you just decide to relish in the moment. And it feels even better when you hear a lower, quirky laugh join yours, and you see Arai’s shoulder’s bouncing in your peripheral vision.

“You’re okay.” You say, giggles still shuffling out of you as you grab the coat to wrap around your torso. “Although I don’t think the shirt can say the same.”

“I’m sorry, those shirts are so expensive.” Arai says, another wince rolling through his body. “You can keep the jacket until you get home. I know how bad your father can get with stains.”

“Oh my god, remember that time you came over when we were little? You tracked mud all over our floor and-”

“-and your dad nearly cussed out an eleven year-old? Yes, I remember. Unfortunately.” He smiles, and it’s big and wide and a little crooked, and his image solidifies a little more into the friend you had made way back when.

You both chuckle again before a silence falls over the two of you. Arai raises his eyes to yours, and suddenly you’re reminded that you’ve been crying all afternoon when his brown irises flood with concern.

You try to stop him from asking. “Oh no, I’m fi-”

“Are you alright? You look like you’ve been…” His arm reaches out for you, but you meet his hand half way and put it back by his side.

“I’m okay. I’ve had some time to think, so I’m alright now.” You reassure him, and he nods, thankfully dropping it.

“Okay, I’m glad.” There’s that smile again. “Were you heading inside?” The farmer asks, pointing a thumb at the door to the cafe.

“Yeah, actually. This place is my favorite.”

“Mine, too.” His whole face almost lights up, and he opens the door, waving you inside. “Wanna grab that cup of coffee you promised me earlier?” He raises his empty coffee cup. “Mine is empty for some reason.”

Another laugh bubbles out of you, and even if you are drenched, Arai’s energy is refreshing, and you don’t want to leave it just yet. “Sure. My treat.”

He shakes his head. “No can do. Not only will I pay for your dry-cleaning, but also your coffee- I mean, tea. Or something else. Whatever you want, because you just like the atmosphere.” He playfully mocks, and you roll your eyes, surprised he remembered that part of your conversation from a week ago.

Brushing past him, you walk into the cafe, Arai close on your heels. The door closes, muffling the chaotic rumblings of the outside world as whiffs of coffee grounds meet you. Warm, sparkling fairy lights swathed the ceilings, reflecting the natural sunlight streaming through the windows.

Soon, you both have ordered, your (f/h/d) in front of you as Arai’s lavender latte steams in front of him.

“Thank you for paying, you really didn’t have too.” You say, relishing the hot liquid that warms your throat.

“I really did, though. Your poor shirt.” Arai whines, his fingers running through his brown hair anxiously.

You laugh again, shaking your head to calm his nerves.

“It’s fine, god knows we have the money to replace it.”

“Especially if this deal goes through.” Arai says. “How have you been adjusting to the whole idea?”

You shrug, tracing the rim of your mug with your finger. “Fine. My parents have roped me into business deals before, but this is the first time they want me to be so…involved. No offense, but I think they might be using our friendship to get a better deal.”

The delivery boy just laughs. “I absolutely agree. But I’m not surprised. It seems to be my father’s tactic to get into business with my rich friend’s parents.”

“Really?” You scoff. “He’s done this before?”

“Mhmm. Twice actually. Your mom hasn’t pulled this act before?”

“Never forcefully. But I was always encouraged.”

“You know, that’s what I always liked about our friendship, way back when.” Arai noted, a sincere look in his eye. “Nothing forced us together, we just were.”

“Yeah.” Your breath catches in your throat when you think of the contrasting relationship you had with a certain Ootori. How it had all started with the proposal that merged Ootori Hospitals and (L/n) Tech. Would he even have talked to you if the proposal hadn’t been accepted? Would he have noticed you at all?

Something must’ve shown on your face, because you felt a slight pressure on your palm as Arai grasped your hand from across the table, that sweet look of worry creasing his brow.

“I, uh…” He pauses, the farmer sifting through his mind to find the right words. “I know you said that you were okay, but you don’t seem okay. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, no.” You squeeze his hand before pulling it away, choosing to warm your fingers with your drink. “I’m okay, really.”

“Sure.” He says, but you can tell that he isn’t going to give up because his brown eyes are still piercing through yours. “But, hypothetically, if there was something bothering you, you could talk to me. If you want to.”

You simper at him, sighing deeply. “Yeah, I appreciate that. I will if something comes up.”

But he wasn’t satisfied. “Because I know, hypothetically, if there was something bothering me-, I would definitely feel better talkin–”

“Arai.” You say, cutting him off a little harshly. Taking a breath, you lean forward a little, placing your cheek in your hand. “I’m good, I swear.”

“Right. Sorry, I just–” His hands wave around before they settle back onto his coffee cup. “I want to make sure you’re actually good.”

And that warms your heart to levels that your (f/h/d) couldn’t reach, and you tilt your head, studying the sincerity of his gaze. Maybe you could open up a little bit, just so he wouldn’t have that wounded puppy dog look on his face.

“Well, I guess there is one thing.” You say, picking at your fingernails. “I have a big presentation tomorrow that I’ve been working towards for a while.”

“Yeah? For what class?”

“Foundations of Marketing.” A nervous sigh escapes you as you realize just how close your deadline is. “We have to present an original product to a panel of mock-investors, and it’s an idea that I’ve had from the start of my highschool career.”

“If all goes well,” You continue, swallowing the butterflies in your throat. “These fake investors could take it to real investors. Which could mean the start of my own product launch.”

“Which would be…good, right?” Arai asks. “Why does it not sound good?”

“I’ve…been working on it with a partner.” You say, looking out the window to catch a couple holding hands strolling by. “We were on good terms at first, and we even worked well together. But, now, it’s not working out so well.”

“We’ve been in a fight recently, and, I don’t know. It’s making me question things.”

“What kind of things?”

You shrug, playing with the end of a sugar packet. You want to tell him, but you’re just not ready to be that open with someone you’ve just met. Instead, you skirt around it a little.

“Was it hard? Moving schools?”

Arai quirks an eyebrow up, but takes your change of subject in stride. He just leans back in his chair and blows out a breath.

“Yeah, I’d say it was rough at first. But it worked out in the end. Things always do.”

Taking a sip of his coffee, he met your gaze again. “Why? You want to change schools?”

“I don’t know what I want.” You groan, exasperated at the war going on in your head. “I’m just conflicted, I guess. So conflicted that…” A sigh breezes past your lips. “I talked to my mother earlier today, about finding a transfer application to Lobelia.”

An image runs across your mind of you in a Lobelia uniform, performing for the Zuka Club.

“Maybe I just need a fresh start.”

“(L/n).” You don’t look at him, but you show him your listening. “You’re happy at Ouran, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but things feel…different now. Ouran is the best high school in the area, but this project has just shown me that people who I thought cared about me might not anymore.”

You hear Arai tap his fingers on the table before he draws a breath. “You’re not going to let that stop you, though. Right?”

Your gaze whips back to him as he looks at you with so much apparent trust in your abilities, that it almost makes you double over.

“What do you mean?”

“(L/n), you have to be one of the most capable people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I mean, even when we were kids, you still had more raw, immeasurable talent in your eyelashes than most people do in their whole body.”

You shake your head. “That’s sweet, but–”

“But nothing. Anyone who is worth their salt will see that you are the true passion behind your project, no matter what this dimwit of a partner does.”

“Thank you, Arai. But you’ve only known me for a short amount of time, so-“

“Then it makes it even more obvious when I can already see that you deserve to feel happy in the high school you fought to be in.”

Shaking your head, you do your best to fight your smile, but you can’t. Instead, you’re almost glowing at him, and you bite the inside of your lip, trying to shove your blush down from your cheeks. Looking out the window, you try to think of something to say that could possibly match that, but Arai interrupts your thoughts again.

“You’re still doing that?”

Blinking, you turn back to look at him. “Doing what?”

“You used to bite your lip when you were anxious in school.” He says, taking a sip of his latte. “Looks like you didn’t grow out of it.”

Your lip falls from your teeth on instinct, a small blush running to your cheeks at being caught. “I’m surprised you noticed that, I barely even notice it myself half the time.” You chuckle sheepishly, looking into your mug. “I should probably break it, but-”

“No, don’t.” He says, shaking his head with that crooked smile of his. “It’s cute.”

Your lashes flick up to meet his, surprise evident on your features, and Arai blubbers when he realizes what he said.

“No, not like cute cute, you know? I mean, you-you are-wait, I meant, it’s not like you’re not–god! What I meant was that it’s sweet, and nothing’s wrong with it, and I should shut up before I say shit I regret.”

Arai groaned, letting his forehead fall onto the table. But your giggles made him pick his head back up.

“You think it’s funny?”

“I do.” You say, silencing your laughter with a sip of your drink. “I really do.”

“I’m glad my embarrassment is funny to you.”

“I promise, I have my fair share of embarrassing stories to share, if you stick around long enough.”

He gave you a long look then, his smirk growing wider. “I think I will.”

go on ahead to part 2 :)

this isn't proof read btw, haha