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lqvesoph · 5 months

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Is it over now - LN4

lando norris x fem!reader

summary: your situationship with lando ended 10 months ago… or did it? based on taylor swift’s "is it over now"

warnings: toxic behavior, cheating, smut, p in v, dirty talk, handjob, fingering, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise (with slight degradation)

a/n: you have no idea how long it took me to finish this and idk the word count but its long and filthy. Also this gif does things to me… just the way he looked that day🤌🏻 the curls the beard the cheekbones

masterlist | taglist

You knew he was gone. He left exactly 113 minutes ago. His flight had taken off 44 minutes ago. Angrily you turned around in your bed, kicking off the blanket and staring at the blank spot next to you where only three hours ago, Lando’s curly head had laid.

Since then you slept with each other. Again. And had a terrible screaming match. Again.

You knew it was for the better to let him go, you were toxic, your relationship, if you can call it that, had been from the very start two years ago when you drunkenly slept with each other after a celebration party.

Since then it’s been one hell of a ride. Neither of you were very good at the whole relationship and communication thing, so naturally your relationship was based on an endless circle of being somehow happy, until one of you screwed up, you fought, left and ended up in each others bed minimum three days later.

Some might say this behavior exhausts but for the two of you it was what made things exciting and addicting.

His touch, his lips, his body, HE was addictive.

But since the last time you broke up, things had changed. Lando had gotten a new girlfriend, something that made you mad as hell.

He knocked on your door last night, storming in and pinning you to the wall before violently attacking your lips with his.

But that wasn’t what made you mad, this was a rather regular occurrence any time one of you got a new partner. What made you mad was that when he woke up the next morning he didn’t stay like he usually would. He jumped out of bed, calling the previous night a 'mistake' and something that 'shouldn’t have happened'. On top of that he blamed you.

Naturally that resulted in your neighbors, once again, hearing a thirty minute screaming match which ended in you kicking Lando out of your door with the words "Don‘t ever call me or knock on my door again, especially not when you realize she can’t give you what you want!!" "I promise I won’t!!" "Oh you are a lying traitor!!".

You hated that even though he was gone for good now, he still wouldn’t leave your mind.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Fast forward to almost 10 months later. Mason, your very nice colleague picked you up from your office. You met on one of your threehundreds of awkward blind dates your friend had arranged, finding out that you actually worked for the same company. However that didn’t make the date any less awkward, because you mostly talked about work. But at least you kind of found a good friend now. You haven’t spoken to Lando since that night. To be perfectly honest, you didn’t think he actually wouldn’t come back.

"Hey, ready for that coffee?", he smiled.

You grabbed your bag and joined Mason. Together you walked to the cafe you‘ve been going to ever since the first time. You noticed he was a bit nervous for some reason, but you didn’t dare ask why, deep down you didn’t care but you wouldn’t admit that to yourself of anyone.

"Two latte‘s to go, please", Mason placed your order. While you waited you pulled out your phone to check some new messages from your friends.

"Lando Norris spotted with yet another model", Mason read the most recent headline when he opened twitter. "Can you believe that guy, huh?", he huffed.

"I bet she’s got blue eyes", you huffed and shook your head when Mason showed you a picture of the blonde girl with blue eyes who basically looked like your clone. "Predictable." "What?", Mason asked confused. "Oh nothing, I happen to know all his girls literally look the same", you fake smiled but thankfully Mason didn’t notice. For some reason he didn’t know about Lando and you when you met and you were rather happy about keeping it that way.

Sure Lando and you never paraded each other around on Instagram, you never actually were together long enough to feel comfortable with announcing your situationship, but you have been spotted together multiple times in the paddock or at parties.

Mason didn’t need to know about the boy who still kept you up some nights.

Your coffees were placed in front of you, making you look up and hesitate for a second. "Here you go", the waiter smiled and for a few seconds you saw Lando in front of you.

The dark brown curls, the green eyes and lord that smile, it reminded you of him.

"Thanks", Mason replied on your part and grabbed the coffees. "You good?", he asked. You simply nodded, still a little in your thoughts.

"Okay good because I’ve been wanting to ask you something", he said, glancing to you. "Hmm?"

"We‘ve been going on these take out coffee dates for almost 10 months now, and I remember how beautiful our first one was, the blind date. So I’ve been wondering, would you like to be my girlfriend?", Mason asked, glancing down at you to catch your reaction.

You looked at him with a blank face and simply nodded. "Uh-hmm", you muttered, your mind still some place elsewhere, more specifically at one of yours and Lando‘s good nights, with his head between your thighs.

"That’s great!", Mason called happily and brought you into a hug.

"Uh-hmm."

"I think we should go out tonight and celebrate this!", Mason spoke excitedly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Mason told you to invite a few friends as he did the same so you decided to ask your two best friends to come. And same as you, they were never one to turn down an invitation to a night out.

"So, you’ve been acting a little weird ever since we’ve been here", Mia pointed out, taking a sip from her drink. "Mason asked me to be his girlfriend", you dryly replied, making Mia almost spit out her drink again and Laura shockingly turn her head towards you.

"What?!!", they called in unison. You nodded, taking another sip of your drink. "Well, did you say yes?", Laura pressed, both hers and Mia’s eyes staring you down intensely.

"Uh-hmm", you gave the same answer as to Mason a few hours prior. "That’s- uh great", Mia stuttered over her words for a bit. Her and Laura look each other before Mia looked away.

"Fine, if you won’t say it I will. Finally!!! I’m so damn happy you finally completely moved on from Lando and found someone who treats you better than that piece of junk", Laura started rambling and just in that moment your eyes locked with the devil Laura has been talking and you’ve been thinking about.

No fucking hell. That couldn’t be true.

How can it happen that after 10 months of not running into Lando once while clubbing, toady was the day where it happened?

"We both weren’t great in that relationship", you muttered, slightly defending Lando without even meaning to, your eyes still locked with his.

An arm wrapping around your waist pulled you out of the staring contest. "Hey babe", Mason whispered in your ear and placed a sweet kiss to your temple. You internally cringed at the nickname and the rotting sweet gesture.

Laura’s eyes sparkled at the sight of you, while Mia caught your annoyed looking gaze. She was always the one who understood you and Lando the most out of all of your friends. Maybe because she was such a sweet and genuine human that she believed both of you could change for each other or probably she simply understood how attached you grew to each other that no matter what, that bond wouldn’t break.

And judging from the fact how Lando and you captivated each other just moments ago, that bond also didn’t break in the last 10 months apart.

"We’ll go take a smoke, you wanna come?", Laura asked but you shook your head. Ever since the whole thing with Lando started you never touched a cigarette again. He didn’t like it, it was unhealthy and being with someone who doesn’t smoke made you smoke less as well, until you stopped completely.

"You should really enjoy life a little again", Laura replied, knowing your reasons to quit smoking.

"Maybe I’ve just come to the realization that I don’t need to poison my lungs to enjoy life", you simply answered, rolled your eyes and turned away.

"Can you get me something to drink?", you asked Mason who was still gently rubbing your waist, actually only wanting to bring some distance between the two of you. "Uh yeah sure, what do you want?", he asked. "Just bring me anything", you replied, stepping out of his embrace as a sign for him to get going.

He nodded and turned around but not before placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You cringed internally.

"Y/n?", his voice suddenly spoke behind you, making your whole body freeze. Lando’s hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you in, something he did quite often when you were 'together'. "What are you doing here?", he whispered and you immediately felt your legs weakening. You had no idea why your body immediately reacted to him and you hated yourself for it.

Lando only smirked when he noticed you wobbling a little and gripped your waist tighter. "Missed me?", he muttered, placing a gentle kiss on your exposed shoulder, making your eyes flutter and your body lean back into his.

"300 days later and you still react to my touch like that", he smirked.

"He really can’t give it to you properly, I can see that from the way he was holding you", Lando snorted, making fun of Mason and you didn’t feel the slightest need to defend your boyfriend because you knew Lando was right.

"You shouldn’t", you warned Lando before hearing someone clear their throat behind you.

Lando dropped his hand from your waist and his gaze darkened when he saw Mason standing behind you

Said boy pulled you into a possessive hug.

"Hey, babe", he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple before handing you your drink.

You sniffed before realizing it was Vodka Coke. A smirk made its way on Lando’s face when he saw your drink and your reaction. You knew he knew that you hated Coke.

"And you are?", Mason let his eyes wander to the curly headed boy in front of you. "Lando", he muttered, ignoring Mason who held out a hand for him to shake. "Okayyy", Mason whispered. "You wanna dance?", he then turned to you. You simply nodded and accepted his hand that led you into the crowd of people.

Mason pulled you in, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Isn’t that the guy with all of those girls?", he asked, leaning closer to your ear so you’d understand his words over to loud music.

"Lando Norris, yes", you nodded, interwinding your fingers behind Mason’s head. "Do you know each other?"

Flashbacks of Lando and you floated your mind. Driving along the French Riviera in his McLaren, the occasional stop to get in a quickie, or the sneaking away from his engineers to meet in his drivers room. And finally, him peacefully sleeping next to you on that one damned night, his curls a mess on his head, his torso bare with a few red marks on his back from your activities before and his beautiful eyes shut.

"No", you simply replied before placing your lips on Mason’s to get him to stop asking questions.

Mason more than happily gave in, letting his hand wander down to your ass, gently rubbing it. You kissed him harder, wanting him to be a little bit rougher as well, to firmly grab you and not just delicately touch you.

But instead he backed off.

"Woah, what’s gotten into you today? This is totally not like you!", he stated with a confused smile, which made you even angrier. Of course this was like you, he just didn’t know you well enough.

"I’ll be in the restroom for a second", you rolled your eyes before leaving him standing alone in the middle of the dance floor.

You pushed open the heavy door to the women’s restroom, being thankful that no one was there before putting your hands on the marble counter and leaving your head hanging.

Until the locking of the main door made your head shoot up. And to be perfectly honest, you half expect him to follow you in here.

"What happened to your newest toy?", Lando smirked, leaning against the now closed door. You rolled your eyes and didn’t reply.

Lando pushed himself off the door and walked closer to you until he stood directly behind you, looking at you through the mirror. "Don’t roll your eyes at me, baby", he warned.

"Now tell me what happened to that guy? Realized he couldn’t give you want you want?", Lando smirked, quoting your words from the night you last saw each other. You shook your head, not wanting to give into him.

"Come on baby, I saw your face. You didn’t like the gentle touches in the middle of a club dance floor, admit it!", he dared you.

"'Newest toy', what do you think of me? That I slept around with everyone that was in a 1 mile radius of me?", you ignored his words and stared at him through the mirror.

"Did you think I didn’t see you? There were flashing lights", you huffed. "Maybe I wanted you to see me and please baby, don’t play all innocent", he whispered, still standing behind you but coming dangerously close now.

"At least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight unlike you!!", you called.

"Oh baby, don’t you think I‘ve heard the rumors? About your hips…", Lando stepped forward and let his hands trailed over your hips, "and thighs…", he let them wander further down to your thighs, gently rubbing the exposed skin. You let out a sigh at the familiar feeling and closed your eyes in pleasure, "and those whispered sighs", he smirked and quickly turned you around before lifting you up on the bathroom counter.

"Exactly rumors", you breathed, before he smashed his lips on yours.

Lando’s hands immediately grabbed your legs, opening them so he could stand between them. Then they went to your waist to pull you in closer.

Lando groaned at the feeling of you finally back in his arms.

His hands kept scanning over your body, squeezing your boobs which made you throw your head back and let out a deep moan.

"Been waiting to get my hands on you again for so long, baby," he breathed heavily, speaking into your skin as his fingers fumbled open the top of your blouse. His lips trailed over your exposed chest and stopped just under your collarbone, sucking the fragile skin between his lips.

"You’re saying you missed me?", you teased, trying hard to push the words out before another moan interrupted you. Lando grinned and ripped open the buttons of the white silk blouse, allowing your tits to spill out.

Lando swore he could come from that sight alone. "You're so gorgeous," he muttered, more to himself than to you, before looking back into your eyes.

His lips attacked yours again while his large hand worked your bra covered boobs.

Your eyes fluttered, feeling that all too familiar ache in your core while the large size of his palm against you, made you think of those thick, veiny fingers between your thighs.

Your hips pressed against his, feeling his hard cock against you, making you smirk.

Lando's eyes darkened as you ground yourself against him, faster, harder. His one hand tightening around your waist and his head falling forward on your shoulder.

"Admit it, darling", you whispered into his ear. You could tell me was holding back a moan, his restraint hanging by a thread, and every move you made threatened to break that thread.

You wanted to make him snap, an evil smirk brightening on your face as you moved your hips faster.

While he closed his eyes, you took the opportunity to fiddle with the metal belt around his hips, opening it along with the button and zipper of his jeans.

"Can’t wait, can you, you desperate little whore", Lando smirked, watching you push down his jeans and slide your hands inside his boxers to grab his cock.

Lando's head fell back with a groan as you started pumping his hard cock.

"Missed your hands, darling", he groaned, holding on to your waist tighter when you trailed your finger over his swollen tip before pulling your hand back, tracing them down his abdomen.

"Please, Lan", you begged, knowing your whispered words would make him weak. But he’s been playing this game just as long as you were.

His fingers slipped under the hem of your skirt, quickly stroking up to your clothed core. A heavy moan escaped your mouth.

Lando caressed the inside of your thighs while his lips traced down your neck, leaving a few marks here and there.

His finger pushed your laced thong to the side before lightly gracing your pussy, making your hips buckle into his hands. "Lan-", you moaned. An evil smirk spread on his face. "Now who’s desperate?", Lando whispered, repeating the action twice, pulling away way too quickly.

"I hate you", you breathed, throwing your head back before grabbing his wrist and holding it in place.

Lando shook his head but finally gave in and dipped the tip of his finger inside you. Your grip on his wrist tightening. "M-more", you slightly pleaded, trying your best not to sound too desperate but failing miserably.

"I’ve missed watching you react to me like this, still the very same as the first day", he said, pushing a second finger inside you to stretch you out. A high pitched moan left your throat and your hand let go of his wrist to grip the edge of the marble counter.

His lips were still traveling along your half exposed upper body, one hand pulling down your left bra cup, making your boob spill out before he took your nipple between his lips.

"Lando- I-", you moaned loudly, thanking heaven that he locked the door when he came in and gripping the counter tighter, your knuckles almost turning white.

He pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the feeling of emptiness, before you felt his hand trying to get your thong off. You lifted your hips a little to help him, watching as he pushed your underwear in the back pocket of his trousers.

"You should see yourself, darling", Lando smirked mockingly, his fingers being welcomed by her glistening pussy as he traced them along your slit.

"So desperate for me", he cooed, watching your eyes close and a frown forming on your forehead as you moaned.

"It’s funny how eager you are for everything I give you, baby", he chuckled humorless. "You won't call for months and now you want my cock inside of you?"

You whimpered at his words, all while he slowly inserted his finger inside you again.

"Lando- oh my- please", you continued whimpering and pleading, making Lando smirk. "What is it, baby? You're gonna have to tell me exactly what you want, you know how this works", he cooed into your ear.

He was teasing and you knew that, you have experienced it multiple times before. You didn’t want to give into him but damn his long thick fingers and how they felt inside you. You mind already playing images of him fucking you till you’re nothing but a whimpering mess.

"C’mon", Lando demanded firmly. "You've always been mouthy with me, even earlier, so why are you being quiet now, huh?"

"Lan- lando please, more", you whined, while moving your hips on his finger to get some sort of relief. "I just need more, please", you begged slightly, your eyes closed and not wanting to look at the winning smirk on Lando’s face.

"But you already have a boyfriend, mylady", Lando reminded you with an evil grin. You shook your head, the mess of your hair whipping around. "N-no", you tried to deny as he added a second finger.

"Just wanna cum, please- fuck!", you muttered as Lando curled his fingers inside you.

Lando, completely ignoring you, continued with his question. "What more could you possibly want?"

"I want your cock- so bad, just fill me up- fuck, Lando- fuck me, please- I-", you begged, your eyes tired but glistening in desperation and lust. "Jus’ wanna- want you to fuck me hard and fill- uhh- I wanna be full with you please, please Lando", at this point you didn’t even care anymore that you sounded like a desperate slut.

You’ve gone 10 months without seeing Lando in person, of course you had your fair share of fucks but you couldn’t pretend that any of them came even close to pleasuring you the way Lando was able to.

"Such a needy girl", he tsked before wiping you tears away, that you didn’t even notice had started falling down your cheeks. You clenched around Lando’s fingers, loving the way his voice sounded in your ear.

"Oh you want to cum?", Lando looked at you with a devious smile. "Do you think you deserve that?" Before you could reply, you felt his lips pressing against yours, his tongue gliding between your lips without being met with a lot of resistance.

He hummed in satisfaction, tasting the alcohol from the drink you previously had on your mouth before he pulled away, only to let his tongue trail from your lips, over your neck and down to your chest as he sucked on your skin, leaving a dark purple mark on your breast. You were too far gone to realize anything until the sudden bite of Lando's teeth on your nipple shocked you out of your daydream.

"I asked you a question, baby", Lando hummed, licking over your hardened nipple. You blinked down at him, seeing a little blurry. "W-what?"

His grin was wickedly evil as he looked up at you. "Aw, poor baby's already going cock dumb and I haven't even fucked you yet." Your cheeks heated but didn’t give you time to reply before slamming his cock inside you.

You gasped loudly, grabbing the back of his neck for leverage and letting out a strangled cry as Lando continued to fuck into you at high speed.

There was truly no one who could fill you up like he did.

The sound of his hips clashing against yours and both of your strangled moans were the only thing left to hear in the restroom. You felt your pussy clench around Lando’s cock, making him moan into your shoulder. He moved his fingers from rubbing the side of your waist to your clit, touching the already sensitive bundle of nerves and rubbing it as you cried out.

"God! Fuckin- hell- ohh!"

"I think God is the last person to help you right now, darling", Lando chuckled but got interrupted by a moan as your walls clenched around him again. You felt yourself nearing your orgasm with every rock of his hips.

"Fuck, baby you’re so tight", he moaned. "You have no idea how much I missed this tight fucking hole, perfectly clenching around my cock like this- ohh", Lando spoke in a light whisper, rubbing eight figures on your clit.

Your legs shook as you felt your orgasm approaching, your walls tightening. "Fuck, Lando, I- shit, I- I’m cumming!", you let out a breathy moan once more before clenching one last time. Your vision going blurry while your pussy kept throbbing around his cock.

"Lando, please I need-", you winced at the oversensitivity when he kept pounding into you. "Time", you breathed through a moan, gripping the back of his neck tighter as you felt another orgasm approaching. All while Lando never stopped fucking into you even when you came for a second time in a row.

The overstimulation leaving you as a sobbing mess. "Lan- lando, it’s too much! I- I can’t- fuck! 'm cumming, Lando-", you cried, tears streaming down your face, you head falling forward on his chest, not having the ability to keep it upright anymore.

"Yeah? You’re cumming again?", Lando mocked you, rocking his hips a bit slower.

"But I missed you so much, haven’t you missed me?"

"I- missed you- fuck! So much- so fucking much", you cried, your walls repeatedly clenched around his cock.

"Fuck! Lando!", you called pathetically when he started to pick up his pace again and relentlessly started hammering inside you, chasing his own orgasm.

You couldn’t do anything apart from moan, cry and clench around him, feeling another orgasm approaching as well.

"Shit- I’m so close", Lando groaned as a whisper, pulling you closer to him and placing his lips on yours. "I’m cumming- baby- I’m-", he whispered against your lips. Your body already going limp against his as you felt him filling you up with his cum.

A deep and breathy moan left his lips as he slowed down his pace. You felt the sticky liquid dropping out of you and running down the inner side of your leg.

Lando whipped it up with his finger and held it in front of your mouth. Without hesitation you took his finger inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and closing your eyes at the taste of his cum on your lips.

Lando gently rocked his hips again, making you whine. "Not again, Lando- please I- I need a minute", you winced, feeling way too overstimulated after cumming so many times in a row.

"Shh, baby it’s okay, just tryna fuck my cum back into you, to make sure it stays there until I can go back inside you again", he reassured you, before slowly pulling out, making you gasp and wince at the feeling of emptiness.

Exhausted you placed your head on his chest and closed your eyes while he held your waist.

"So did you find something greater in all those models’ beds?", you said with a dumbfound smirk forming on your lips, your mind still hazy while trailing your fingers over his bare chest. You felt his chest vibrating as he laughed and shook his head with a smirk. "Oh baby, I think you know exactly that nothing compares to you!"

You chuckled and lifted your head as he reached over to the paper towels and started cleaning your inner leg up a little. "What do we do now?", you asked, a hint of insecurity in your voice, as the reality of your situation came crushing down on you. "Well, I for damn hope you won’t go back to that milk boy", Lando chuckled, reaching for his belt to close his trousers again after tucking his cock away.

You stayed silent, your blouse still halfway open, your body too tired to move. Lando looked into your eyes before reaching to cover you up again. "You wanna come to mine?", he asked while closing the last button of your blouse.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Getting out of the club without Mason seeing you turned out easier than expected, however something you didn’t expect were people hanging around in front of the monegasque nightclub.

As soon as you opened the door, you already heard yours and Lando’s name being called and saw at least ten phones recording you.

Well, now Mason knows anyway, you thought while Lando grabbed your hand tighter and pulled you to his car quickly. Both of you waved a few times while passing the fans but stayed silent for the short walk. Lando opened the door for you before jogging around to get to the drivers side.

You snuggled into the seat of his familiar car, that wore his familiar scent and when Lando started up the car, he put his familiar hand on your thigh. You took a deep breath, you might be toxic but how damn good does this familiarity feel? It might just cancel the bad parts out.

Lando’s fingers drew circles on your thigh and he smirked when he noticed you opening your legs a little bit wider, an invitation to move his fingers up further.

His hand scooted up, pushing the material of your tight miniskirt away and gently tracing along your inner thighs.

"Baby careful or you’ll ruin the seat", he whispered sarcastically. He didn’t give a damn if you actually did and you knew that because this wouldn’t be the first time it happened.

"Lando-", you quietly whimpered when you felt his fingers come dangerously close to your core, still feeling the sensitivity of the multiple orgasms he had given you merely twenty minutes ago, but backed off just before touching you. "Shhh, baby", he spoke, keeping his eyes on the road while entering the tip of his finger.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you sunk down the seat a little. Without having to see, you knew Lando was smiling.

He pushed his finger further inside and immediately followed up with a second one. You quietly moaned at the pleasure.

"Already so fucking wet for me, baby", he spoke. "My good girl", he purred moving his finger faster inside you.

You moaned at his words and the way his fingers stretched you, making you see stars. "L-lando-", you whispered but got interrupted by another moan when he scissored his fingers. Your eyes shot open and you grabbed his arm tighter, your fingers most likely leaving marks on his skin.

You started moving your hips up to meet his fingers, chasing your own release in the passenger seat of Lando’s sports car.

But Lando suddenly slowed down and almost pulled his fingers out of you completely leaving you empty and whining. "L-lando - plea - ahh- please, baby", you couldn’t form proper sentences while his fingers traced your clit.

"Shh, no baby, you’re not coming until we’re home", he gently whispered, making you furrow your brows. He slid both fingers back inside you and picked his pace up again, making you gasp before an idea came to your head.

You let go of his arm and reached over the middle console and started palming the slight bulge in his trousers.

Now it was his turn to let out a surprised gasp. "You are playing a dangerous game, baby", he muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. You simply giggled and squeezed his clothed cock through his pants.

Lando twisted his fingers inside you, making you stop your movements and close your eyes. You hectically tried opening up his belt and trousers before sliding your hand inside his boxers, stroking over his tip that was already leaking pre cum.

"Baby-, I’m driving remember", he rasped, his finger still moving inside you but your main focus now laid on his cock in your hands. "It’s not like this is the first time", you breathed and started pumping his cock.

You could see how much he was fighting to close his eyes, which made a sadistic smirk form on your lips.

Because you were too focused on him, you didn’t see that you were already in front of Lando’s apartment.

He slid his fingers out of you and pushed your hands off him as well. "Let’s go!", he sternly said, getting out of the car and walking towards the entrance of his apartment building already, his trousers still opened.

You smirked and left the car as well, hurrying behind him. As soon as you got to the elevator, Lando reached for your hips and smashed his lips on yours again.

His hands moved to your ass and squeezed it playfully.

When you heard the familiar bling of his apartment elevator, he didn’t even look. Lando just moved you backwards out of the elevator, still kissing you. You fumbled his key out of the back pocket of his jeans and opened the door as soon as you got there.

Lando grinned and pushed you against the door to open it up completely before attacking your lips once again, kicking the door shut with his foot.

"Where you wanna go?", he muttered between kisses and moans. "Here is fine", you said breathlessly and pointed to the couch. Lando smirked, remembering what had happened on this couch, remembering catching you making out with a random dude after one of your fights.

"Was it over when he unbottoned your blouse?", Lando smirked, opening your blouse button for button, before pushing it off your body.

You smirked when you realized where he was getting at. But two could play that game, you had also caught him with a random girl on his exact couch.

"Was it over when she laid down on your couch?", you replied with the same smirk, only standing in your lace underwear and walking backwards to sit down on his couch.

Lando moved closer in only his trousers. He placed his strong arms on either side of your head and leaned down so his lips were almost touching yours.

"Was it ever really over?"

taglist

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 1 month

Text

The crushing | joel miller x f!reader, 5.2k

Summary: This is the story of a man who had everything in the palm of his hand and traded it all for an empty space in the hollow of his heart. Or This story follows Joel, two to three years after he cheated on his wife.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, ANGST, cheater!Joel, Joel's POV, this is NOT “The Falling” from Joel's POV, brief mention of smut (p i v) but nothing too graphic (I think), self-loathing, depression, therapy, flashbacks and memories from the past, alcohol consumption, Tommy being a supportive brother (eventually), as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Ok, so, Joel gave me a whiplash on this one, he was either staring at me through the screen giving me nothing, or he was mumbling unintelligibly in my ear while I was trying to keep up with him. It started out as a final chapter, but I really think that this part should be Joel's POV and the next and -probably- final one should be the resolving, however that may come. I guess it can be read as a standalone, but if you're interested, it's a sequel to “The Falling”. I edited it seven thousand times because I kept adding things along the way, so I hope it all makes some sense and there are not too many mistakes.. Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all! 🥰😘

P.S.: I just wanted to take a moment and let you know that I really appreciate everyone who has read, liked, commented, reblogged and asked about “The Falling”. I honestly didn't think a single soul would take the time to read that kind of story. It means more than you know and I didn’t take lightly how close to home this fic hit for some people; yet you’ve given it a chance, sharing some of your own experiences with me. I love you all, take care and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! 🥹🫂

Dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics

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...need your reassurance...

...your only focus…

...for the foreseeable future...

He did make it his sole focus. Because of course, he closed the deal, even after he left that damn table like a madman. He still found a way to get what he wanted. That's the man he was. And he wasn't sure if he hated himself for it or not. But self-loathing was a daily occurrence now, so one more reason added to the list was nothing he couldn't handle.

For two years he would wake up every day, is it called waking up if he doesn’t sleep at all?, he would work his ass off, he would go home, he would sink into despair and then he would start all over again the next day. A vicious cycle consisting of 730 days in a row. The deafening silence within the walls of the house was excruciating, the loneliness was unbearable. Even the light penetrating through the windows seemed different than when you were there with him, a dullness surrounding every corner of the now barely lived in space.

You. He hadn’t seen your face in 730 days. He hadn’t smelled your scent or touched your soft skin. He barely listened to your voice anymore, any form of unavoidable communication, you preferred to be conducted by the lawyers, or via text messages, at the most. At the 731st one, he finally knew, something had to change. He couldn’t repeat another day, like all the others that came and went. He simply couldn’t.

Tommy suggested that therapy might help Joel, a few times, but he refused every one of them. Maria was keeping her distance, her place was delicate, being his brother’s wife but also his wife’s best friend. Surprisingly, she was the one who finally got through to him.

“Are you gonna stay a recluse for the rest of your miserable life, then?” Maria wonders, switching her gaze between Joel and the dining room. Everything was untouched, as you left them when you moved out, but the place felt empty, depressing, probably mirroring Joel’s existence.

Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m not a recluse..”, he snarls through his teeth, rolling his eyes at her. He was more than eager to be done with the dinner his sister-in-law insisted on having in his house and be left alone, in his natural state. Alone. Infuriating woman.

“What do you call that?”, Maria persists, goddamn lawyer to the bone.

“What?!” Joel spits back pissed off, looking at his brother next, for support.

“That!” she gestures around his body and his surroundings. “The way you go on for the past two years! Either get over it or do something about it!”, she doesn’t hold back, even when Tommy proposes a gentler approach. Yeah, look where it got you, is the paid answer, so Tommy steps back, shaking his head and raising his hands up in surrender.

“You’ve got him on a leash, hm?”, Joel jokes absentmindedly, “Can you breathe alright, Tommy boy?”, earning himself a hard glare from Maria.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..” Maria mutters, causing Tommy’s eyes to widen in horror.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Joel retorts doing a double back at her.

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”, Maria throws her napkin on her plate and leaves the room. Joel remains silent, pondering the meaning of her words. It would be a long time before he understood what she meant.

Therapy was hard.

Therapy was hard because he had to do it for himself. He had to concentrate on himself. He thought, being the contractor that he was, that he would walk into the room, get the answers he needed and fix his marriage, just as he rearranged the bricks and the wood and the steel on the construction sites.

But this wasn’t about his marriage. His marriage and the way it crumbled down was the aftermath, he came to learn. It was the outcome of insecurities, selfishness, lack of communication, ungratefulness.

He got it all wrong. Everything. Every little thing. He had to rewire his brain and change every point of view he was holding onto. Honesty. Honesty was the key.

“Why didn’t you reach out to your wife after that night?”, his therapist insists.

“I respected her boundaries.”, Joel was quick to respond.

“And what were those?”

“She didn’t want to see me.”

“Did she say that?”

“No-, I mean-, the way she left that night, she didn’t say much in general. But she blocked my number, so.”, he shrugs in defence.

“So, how can you be so sure that she didn't want to see you? Even if you're right, it doesn't mean that she didn't expect a reaction from you, or that you weren't allowed to try, if that’s what you wanted.”

“Why would she? I upset her, she needed time to think, work things out.”, Joel explains.

The therapist swipes her fingers over her lips, contemplating her approach. “Joel, you walk into your bedroom, into what is supposed to be a safe place and you see your partner with another person in an intimate moment. How does that make you feel? Just say the first words that come to mind.”, his therapist changes the point of view.

Joel shudders just at the thought of it. You, naked, flushed, lips parted and swollen, skin sweaty, breaths short and pupils blown wide, coming for anyone other than him. It would utterly destroy him. “Furious, pissed, betrayed, heartbroken.. I think I would lose it, if I’m honest.” he admits instantly, in his haste to throw the abomination of this image from his thoughts.

“I see. But in her case, you think your wife was just upset?”

“No, of course not.” Joel slightly frowns, shaking his head.

“Do you think she felt all those feelings that you just described to me?”

“I believe so, yes.”, god this is so hard.

“You believe so?” the therapist pushes, again.

Joel’s nostrils flare from the sharp inhale, “I know so.”

“So, she wasn’t just upset.” the therapist concludes and Joel agrees without meeting her eyes, “No, she wasn’t.”

Over time, Joel came to realize that his choice of words was a subconscious attempt to diminish the seriousness of his actions.

“You said in a previous session that you gave space to your wife to work things out.”

“Yeah, it was only fair.”, Joel confirms.

“So, it was hard for you to give her that space?”

“Yes, of course, I missed her every day.”

“Was that a constant in your relationship?”, the therapist wonders.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“How did you work things out as a couple, before? I assume you had difficult times as partners, no?”

“Nothing major to be honest, my wife was a very calm and reasonable person. If anything occurred she would talk to me about it.”

“And how did you respond to that?”

“Uh, I was there to listen, we always found a solution together as a couple.”

“Hmhm, so, what changed this time?”

“What do you mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.

“Why didn’t you talk to her? Communicate with her? Maybe help her see your side of things, like you did before, find your way out of this together, as partners.” his therapist explains. “And even before the infidelity, did you let her know that something was bothering you, that you felt differently?”

"I didn't feel differently about my wife. My feelings for her never changed.", he immediately corrects her. "My love for her was never the problem," he confesses and it's the first time since his therapy began that he's shared something so personal, so private.

“But there was a problem, something was wrong if you felt the need to be intimate with another woman. So, why did you keep that from her?”

Joel opens his mouth already knowing he does not have an answer. Or that he doesn't want to give one. He shakes his head, raising his brows in a silent admission that he can’t answer that. Or he won't. His gaze is fixed on a loose thread on the fabric of the couch, his fingers keep picking on it.

“Joel?”

“I- I don’t know what you want me to say, I don’t know.” he keeps shaking his head. He can’t answer that. He won't.

He was so angry when he left the session that day. He was so angry at you. He was angry at your honesty, your clarity, your courage to have a mind of your own and to speak it freely, knowing full well that probably no one else shared the same opinions as you did. That's what he loved most about you, but now he hated it.

“Own it, Joel. Own what you have done. At least that way it will be worth something. Otherwise it was all for nothing.”

This was one of the last things you said to him on the phone, while he was trying to persuade you to change your mind about the divorce. You were always so brave about those matters. Matters of the heart, of integrity. He remembers you always talking about things that he found admirable but utopian. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

“I need to be able to sleep at night. I need to own my decisions; not because I’m always right, far from it, but at least I know I’m being honest with myself. And that matters.” he recalls one of your late-night talks.

You usually found it easier to share your most vulnerable thoughts once you were thoroughly fucked and satiated. When Joel held you in his arms, your breaths almost shared over the same pillow, your scents and your fluids mixed together.

“We’re all imperfect beings, flawed; we all feel embarrassed when we fuck up,” you continue, “it’s hard to admit our mistakes to others, I get that. But deep down we always know what we’re doing and why we’re doing it. Admitting it only helps us to be present in our lives.”

“Be present?”, Joel seems fascinated by the way your mind weaves your thoughts together into deeply rooted beliefs.

“Yes, my love, there's no greater freedom than to live your life truthfully.” you smile at him, softly. Your sleepy eyes roam his face affectionately. Your fingertips caress his jawline, your thumb pressing lightly against the bare patch of his beard. He can feel your devotion pouring from your fingers and sinking into his skin at that moment.

“That’s one of my greatest fears, you know. Living my life in ignorance, in a lie.”, you whisper your deepest insecurity against his soft lips. His hold on you tightens as he rolls you onto your back, nestling his hips between your welcoming thighs. You are safe in these arms. His arms. You surrender to him, body and soul. You can feel his growing erection pressing between your folds, already wet from your combined releases. He tenderly brushes his lips against yours and slowly licks his way into your parted mouth, as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He enters you in one fluid, slow thrust, his warm exhale cooling your wet lips. “Then let me give you something real.”

Thinking back to those moments, Joel couldn't reconcile himself to the fact that he was the one who had brought that fear of yours to life. What broke him was that it was not a lie. Your life together had not been a lie. He loved you. In fact, he was burning up for you. He was a man of control, but not with you. Never with you. You consumed his every thought; being around you for too long made his lungs constrict in pain, begging for a deep breath. Sometimes he was worried sick that if he completely let himself love you like he needed to, he would suffocate you. He loved you. And it killed him that his actions suggested otherwise.

But at some point he had to be honest with himself. He was just protecting his ego. He was trying to get the upper hand out of a shitty, compromising situation. He wasn't being thoughtful, he was being selfish. He was biding his time. He thought the longer he left ‘it’ untouched, the less it would hurt when the inevitable time of confrontation came. He was scared out of his mind that he would lose you forever. No second chances, no redemption, no reconciliation.

No lingering scent on his pillow as your hair pools there, under his chin, as you nestle your face between his neck and shoulder, breathing him in. No laughter through the enormous house, damn, why did he build it so big; you never clarified what the disbelief in your eyes meant when he said he built this house for you, while he pulls you up on your feet for a silly cowboy dance.

No more gentle touches, no more noses brushing together as a silent goodbye in the kitchen before you rush off to work. No more turning around just before you open the door to leave, running to him like a little girl, giving him quick, hungry pecks on the lips while he laughs on your mouth, squeezes your butt cheek and slaps it playfully to say goodbye. Later, baby, he would promise you, his teeth nipping at your earlobe and he could feel your skin crawling with anticipation.

No more I love yous, either breathed, either whispered, either panted, as he makes a home for himself inside your warmth.

When did he fuck you last? He used to have you every day. You craved it every day. You craved him. Why did he stop telling you he loved you every chance he got? When was the last time you said it?

A week before that fateful night, when you touched him longingly, aching for him to touch you back and he told you he had work to do, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. Why the hell did he say that? Why did he sit there and watch the light fading from your eyes? I love you, you said with a sigh against his temple and walked out of his office defeated. Why did you say that? Did you know? Did you suspect? Why didn’t you fight him? You should have said something, anything, pushed him, punched him in the chest, woken him up. Would he have woken up? Or did he need that to come to his senses? Does he have to fall? Does this falling ever stop? Does he have to let you go? Will you come back to him? Does he deserve you?

Days blurred seamlessly into one another. Joel drifted further and further away from everyone. The house haunted him, all the progress he was making within the therapy walls was dissipating once he stepped inside the cold space of his empty house. Leaving the confines of it was his first thought in the morning, while he hurriedly dressed to go to his office far earlier than necessary and his last when he closed his eyes, as he laid his weary limbs on the couch, chasing still your now long gone scent on its fabric, knowing another sleepless night was his only companion until the first rays of sunlight hit the floor-to-ceiling windows to announce the beginning of another day.

People at work tiptoed around him, not knowing how to act. It was as if he was there, but not really. He was focused solely on the Marks project, mechanically going through board meetings, paperwork and supervising the construction site. He. Just. Wasn’t. There.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

He simply stares at the text message for a good full minute, his thumbs hovering over the screen of his phone. This was one of the rare occasions you had initiated communication with him, always about the progress of the divorce.

No, no, I won’t, the little toddler in him screams, stamping his little feet on the ground.

The papers are not ready.

Joel texts back. He keeps it simple, frightened he might not get an answer back.

Joel, we both know they are. I don’t want any of your assets or your money; this is an easy signature, please.

An easy signature? You think he cares about the houses, or the cars, or the money?

You know I can’t accept that. The house is yours and so is a good part of the money.

The point was to share this house together, Joel, don’t you think us splitting up kind of defeats the purpose? And what on earth makes you think I would ever want to go back in there?

So, there’s nothing I can do to make this easier for you?

Easier? You think money or property can make up for what you’ve done?

Of course not, I wasn’t implying anything like that. Just wanna do something for you, anything.

Can you turn back time?

Of course, he can't. So, he doesn't know what to say to that. He just keeps staring at the screen, lost in thought. After 2 minutes another text follows.

You know I can’t..

Sign the papers. Please.

“Is there anything in particular you want to talk about today, or should I take the lead?”

“Actually I’ve been thinking a lot about that night.”, Joel suggests for the first time. He usually lets the therapist decide where to steer the conversation, then simply refuses to elaborate until he feels ready to talk.

“What about it?”, he shifts his gaze from the window to the direction of her voice.

“I should probably rephrase that. I’m always thinking about that night, repeating it in my head again and again and I’m troubled by something I realized.”

His therapist nods to signal that she's listening.

“Why did she just leave? The more I think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense to me. She just left. No shouting, no breaking things, no attacking either me or-”, her. “Why she didn’t stay? Why she didn’t insist that I leave? She was just- so quiet.”

The therapist smiles in recognition of Joel's near breakthrough. They were beginning to get somewhere, his empathy nudging him under the surface.

“I'm really glad you mentioned that, Joel, so I'd like to take you back to that night and try to understand what might have been going through your wife's mind at that moment," she explains.

“So, she walks into the house, finds her safe space violated by her husband, and she chooses to handle the situation calmly and quietly-” Joel tries to stop her, but she already knows what he's going to ask. “I can't tell you why she chose that path, that's for her to answer, only she knows why.” His therapist continues, “She is making one request of you and one request only, can you tell me what it is?”

“She asked me to leave the house.”

“Hmhm.” the therapist looks at him expectantly.

“I just wanted to talk to her.”, Joel elaborates, “I thought that if I refused to leave, she would accept to listen to me.”

“So you forced your needs on her, while she was in a particularly fragile state of mind.”

“I should have made my intentions clearer, you mean?”

“I mean, that maybe you shouldn’t have had any expectations in the first place. Why do you think was so important to you, to explain yourself right at that moment?”

“Because I knew it was probably the last time I would see her for a while, I just wanted to ease her pain, why is that so wrong? Should I be indifferent? Would that be better?”

“Did it ever occur to you that you might be depriving her of her right to choose?” Come on, Joel, break some eggs.

Joel now begins to make connections. He rubs his hand over his face, the realization of what has really happened crushing him. “Oh, god, I-” He's been so selfish from the start. He hasn't shown you any respect, not even at this delicate moment. He didn't give you a choice as to whether you wanted to listen to him or not. He didn't even let you choose where you wanted to stay. He just made you leave the house. Did he make you believe he wanted you to leave? That he wanted her to stay? Because he didn’t. Fuck. “-I never thought about it like that.”

Fuck.

How could he be so blind? Why was he so blind?

His therapist insisted on it. Because no matter how much progress Joel made over the course of a year, he never revealed the true reason behind his infidelity.

“Joel, we’ve talked about a lot of things; you’ve tried really hard to make this all about your wife and about understanding what she was feeling and how your actions have affected her, but as I keep reminding you”, she smiles understandingly, “you’re the one in therapy, you need to heal your wounds before you even attempt to heal hers. And although it is in fact a really noble thought, this” she gestures between them, “can only work if you do it for yourself. I know it may sound selfish, but I promise you, it is not. It is the exact opposite.”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”, his voice hoarse from sleep as he answers the door after the insistent knock at it. Tommy looks at him surprised once he opens it, “You’re sleeping, already?”. No, he wasn’t. He wouldn’t call it that. But when he goes almost a week without any proper rest, passing out is the right word for what he’s doing. “Yeah, I guess I dosed off..” Joel lies. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” Tommy responds as he squeezes himself through the door to enter the house. “Yeah, sure, come on in.”, Joel mutters under his breath. “You just saw me at work this morning, is everything all right?”

“I just came to check on you.” Tommy confesses uncomfortably.

“You could have called.”

“Would you have answered?” Tommy deadpans.

Touché.

“Tell Maria I’m fine, Tommy, no need to worry about me; go spend the night where it counts.”, Joel replies in an attempt to push him away, as he walks farther into the house, rounding the kitchen island.

“Hey, brother, I’m here, I am here for you.” Tommy’s eyes narrow in pain and concern as he stares at his sibling's back, following behind him.

Joel exhales hard through his nose, his grip tight as he grabs the edges of the counter, his head lowering between his shoulder blades.

“You shouldn’t, nobody should.” Joel sighs, rubbing the pads of his fingers across his forehead.

“Ok, that’s enough.” Tommy snaps at him. “Enough self-loathing, enough resignation. Enough. You’ve punished yourself enough.”

Joel laughs at that. “Is that right? Is it enough for you? What about her?” he asks, his head turned to the side, looking at his brother over his shoulder.

“What?” Tommy is genuinely confused.

Joel turns his back, resting his waist on the edge of the counter, now looking straight at Tommy. “I should have what? Just get on with my life? Let it all be water under the bridge? Disrespect her even more?”

“Jesus..” Tommy mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other resting on his hip, his eyes shut in frustration.

“Are you doing this for her? Does she even know that?”

“It doesn’t matter, Tommy!” Joel raises his voice, exasperated. “I’m not doing this for her, I’m not doing anything for her, apparently and that’s the problem.”, his voice breaks, the lump in his throat too big to push down. “She’s not here anymore, Tommy.” he’s standing fully on his feet now, pushing himself away from the counter, leaning slightly forward, like he’s trying to make his brother understand; his eyes are glazed, Tommy had never seen him so devastated before. “She’s gone. I’ve lost her.”, his palms clenched in fists in front of his chest, resisting the urge to wrap them around his shirt and rip it to shreds, as he wants to do with his heart.

“I thought therapy was working..” Tommy whispers, his eyes dropping to the floor beneath him.

“Oh, it’s working, all right!” Joel chuckles in irony, sniffing his nose. “I’m getting a front-row seat, witnessing what a piece of shit I am-”

“Hey!” Tommy tries to cut him off.

“-what on earth was she doing with me to begin with, is beyond me.”

“HEY!” Tommy's eyes bulge out of his sockets, angry at his brother's self-deprecating words. Joel bends his waist forward, puts his elbows on the island in front of him and lets his head sink in again.

“Ok.” Tommy breathes deeply to ground himself, his hands in a position of a prayer in front of his mouth, “Ok, we could both use a drink.” he realizes, as he moves to open the cupboard to grab two tumblers and the whiskey from the shelf with the drinks. “..or five.”

The two brothers drink their first round in silence, both calming their nerves down. Tommy refills their glasses without asking; he knows this is going to be a long night.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Tommy begins, pushing Joel’s drink back towards him. Joel wringles his brows in confusion, “What are you talking about? You’re always there for me.”

“No, I haven’t, not really.” Tommy admits, “I let Maria take over when all this happened and I’m sorry.”

“There was nothing you could do, Tommy, don’t sweat it.”

“Let me say this, please.” Tommy raises his hand, his palm facing his brother. “I was just- fuck, we all knew how much you loved her, how much you loved each other, so when it all went down, I just didn’t know how to deal with it. What to say to you, how to comfort you. I didn't know how to deal with you.”

“You blamed me.” Joel says matter-of-factly.

“No-”, Tommy weakly refuses but Joel shakes his head dismissively, interrupting him. “It’s ok, Tommy, you should.”

Tommy looks embarrassed, his cheeks slightly pinkish, not only from the whiskey. “It’s just that I- I couldn’t reconcile the image of the man you were with her, with.. you know..”, he stutters.

“..the image of a cheater. Say it.” Joel adds.

Tommy shakes his head, like he still can't believe what's happened. “Besides, while she was staying with us those first few weeks I saw how devastated she was, man- she was a shell of a woman, so I was confused, I didn’t know how-”

“Tommy. Tommy, it’s fine.” Joel feels his skin crawl visualizing you like that in his head, cutting his brother off once again; he deserves every ounce of mistrust and he knows it.

“No, it’s not.” Tommy insists. “Yes, you fucked up. Brother, you really did. You did a number on her-”, Joel’s body tenses instantly at his brother’s words, his jaw clenching as his eyes darken, moving down to his hands, his grip on the tumbler tightening, his knuckles turning white and Tommy stops abruptly, “shit, sorry, I didn’t mean-”, his face twitches with regret.

“It’s the truth. That’s exactly what I did.” Joel’s gaze seems detached as if he's somewhere else right now.

“What I meant to say, is that I should have been there for you in spite of what has happened. I can see you're suffering, it's taking its toll on you, it has been for some time now; tell me what I can do. How can I help you?” Tommy seems almost desperate, like he’s the one in need of redemption.

Your text flashes through his mind, can you turn back time?, making him smile bitterly.

“Can you turn back time?” Joel's repeating your question and as the words leave his mouth he can feel your presence next to him. That's the most he felt of you for the last three years. He's almost blissful.

“You know I can't.” Tommy sighs. Joel laughs earnestly, the irony of the moment too good not to appreciate.

“Joel, brother, please, just talk to me. Help me understand. You act like you’re the one who’s been cheated on. So, what happened? Why did you do it?” Tommy is pleading with him to give him anything.

Silence fills the room for much longer than either of them would like. Joel feels torn between telling his brother everything or keeping his mouth shut. He wants to tell him, he hasn’t told a soul, but he’s not sure he can get the words out. He’s not sure he can bear to hear the words coming out of his mouth. He’s not sure he can substantiate it, make it real. Because that’s how it feels. He talks about it and it becomes real.

But maybe this is the right thing to do. That’s what needs to be done. He needs to talk about it. He needs to tell the truth and admit the pain he’s caused. Make it real for you, too. Perhaps it is time for him to give you what is rightfully yours. Acknowledgment.

Joel’s made up his mind. He’s gonna talk to Tommy. He lifts his glass to down his drink for some liquid courage, freezing his hand in mid-air as the next words fall from his brother’s mouth. “First of all, who was it?”

“What?” Joel's eyes search Tommy’s through his glass for an explanation.

“Who did you do?”, Tommy clarifies.

Joel feels like he’s been struck by lightning. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Who did you fuck, Joel?”, Tommy begins to feel confused, are they not on the same page here?

“You don’t know?”, Joel can barely speak now, his voice low in shock.

“No one does, not even Maria; she never told anyone.”

You told nobody? Not even your best friend? Why on earth would you do that? Did you feel ashamed? Was it just too much to talk about?

But his brain takes pity on him, helping him for once to understand. He’s connecting the dots while your voice fills the corners of his mind through his memories. His head is swarming with images of you standing in that walk-in closet, remembering what you said the last time he saw you. You’re the one I married, not her. I expected better from you, Joel, not her.

You were right.

It didn’t matter who it was. That is why. He was the one making the choice. He was the one breaking his promises, breaking your trust, breaking your heart; breaking you. He was the one who should have known better. He was the one who should have been honest. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

He feels a fresh wave of pain scattering through his body. He welcomes it. Damn, he’s craving it. He’s glad you chose to withhold the identity of the woman. Not because somehow it’s making it easier for him to defend himself, on the contrary.

There’s no one else to blame. Nobody. Just him. All of the anger, the resentment, the disappointment, all of them on him. He embraces them all. Everything. He will take it all, swallow it down and let it rot inside of him.

Joel tells Tommy everything. Everything, but her name.

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Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre

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jakeshands · 1 year

Text

stars will fall

pairing, park sunghoon x fem! reader

synopsis, you’ve had a crush on park sunghoon for the longest time. all you’ve ever wanted was sunghoon to notice you, or at least pick you out of the dozen other girls throwing themselves at his feet. you can’t believe it takes a zombie apocalypse for him to notice you.

genre, zombie apocalypse au, aouad au, strangers (?) to lovers, mutual pining to lovers

warnings, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, swearing, lots of death, minor character death, open/ambiguous ending, reader gets cut with a knife, lots of mentions of blood, stabbing, mentions of guns.

word count, 16.4k

author’s note, heavily inspired by all of us are dead, like there might be some similiar scenes from aouad in this fic😨 please enjoy reading this it was A Lot To Write. i also watched a the last of us gameplay while writing this…so theres some tlou influence in this fic as well. maybe i’ll write a tlou au who knows?! also this fic is heavily unedited, pls mind my mistakes Lol! this fic is for daphne, ily the hoonerz to my jake🫶🫶

Your life is like a wave brushing against the shoreline. It’s full of routine. It’s full of gentle actions and gentle words. It’s nothing out of the ordinary. Your life isn’t remarkable; you spend your days at school and in your apartment with your mother. You spend nights eating at the chicken restaurant your friend’s parents own. You study until you pass out. Rinse and repeat.

Your life is like a steady wave brushing against the shoreline. It’s a natural occurrence. You stay in the routine you’ve known your whole life. Wake up, take a shower, have breakfast with your mom, walk with Seeun to school, sit next to Kim Sunoo and listen in on his conversations hoping you’ll hear a word about Park Sunghoon, you sit with Seeun in the cafeteria at lunch and watch Park Sunghoon, you go back to class. After school you walk home with Seeun, study at the chicken restaurant her parents own, go to the karaoke booth next door for an hour, walk back to your apartment with Seeun, and study until you pass out. Rinse and repeat.

Today is nothing out of the ordinary. You kiss your mother goodbye and wait outside your apartment for Seeun. The door next to you swings open and Yoon Seeun steps out, a white ribbon tying her hair back. “Y/N!” Seeun cheers, reaching for your hand. “Sorry I’m late. Are you ready to go? I think we’ll have enough time to make it before they start handing out detention slips.”

You hum. “You better wish for that, Seeun. We’ve cut it close before, but never this close. C’mon, I want to at least get to school and have a few seconds to stare at Sunghoon from afar.”

Seeun giggles and you ignore her. You know what Seeun thinks of your crush, she thinks you should just confess your feelings to Sunghoon. “There’s no harm, Y/N!” Seeun’s always told you, but she just doesn’t get it. There’s so much to lose when it comes to facing someone like Park Sunghoon who was built by the hands of Earth.

Park Sunghoon is a widely-known name in the province. He’s an up-and-coming figure skater, his visuals are akin to the K-pop idols you see at university festivals, his body proportions are those of a model’s. His personality, well, that’s a part of the mystery called Park Sunghoon. His name may be widely spoken about, but no one has helpful information about Park Sunghoon. If he’s ever talked about, it’s either about his figure skating career, his looks, or his friends. Sunghoon’s never spoken to anyone outside of his family and close friends as far as you’re aware. You’ve been going to the same school as Sunghoon ever since you could remember and he’s always hung out with the same six boys.

Your crush on Sunghoon started when you were fourteen. Puberty was a crazy time for you. The girls and boys were maturing and separating into groups, it wasn’t the same anymore. You stuck with Seeun, of course, because she was the only friend you ever made. You remember the day you started liking Sunghoon with clarity. It was after school, you were at Seeun’s chicken restaurant and Sunghoon entered. He was laughing with his friends over something, and you swear you’ve never seen anyone laugh prettier than Sunghoon. It was like time had slowed as you watched Sunghoon laugh. It was then, you realized you wanted to see Park Sunghoon laugh for the rest of your life.

Too bad the world wasn’t on your side and as years passed, Sunghoon became more withdrawn and seeing him laugh became something of the past. Now, you rarely ever saw Sunghoon. The only times you were given chances to see Sunghoon was before school started and at lunchtime. You took those moments and cherished them.

You thought this year would change everything; you were assigned to sit beside Kim Sunoo, one of Park Sunghoon’s closest friends. But most of the year has passed and you haven’t said anything more than four sentences to Kim Sunoo. Darn you and your social awkwardness. Soon you’ll have to resign and admit the truth; you’re nothing more than another one of Park Sunghoon’s fangirls.

You and Seeun rush across the street and through the school’s gates hand-in-hand. Only a few minutes left until school starts and detention slips are handed out. Breathing heavily as you slow down into a walk, you glare at Seeun. “That was extremely close, See.”

Seeun rolls her eyes. “Whatever, Y/N. Let’s go find your loverboy.”

You did not get to see your loverboy that morning. You slouch in your seat that morning, pouting lightly as you drew random stars all over your textbook. You’ll always have lunchtime to stare at Sunghoon from afar and wonder what it would be like to sit next to him and listen to him laugh. Beside you, Sunoo stares out the window, sunlight washing across his face. You’ve always thought Sunoo was handsome. His visuals are sharp and fox-like, it’s no wonder he’s the most admired boy on campus behind Park Sunghoon. (He’s often referred to as the Handsome Oppa of your class.)

A chair scrapes back drawing your attention away from Sunoo. Kang Suyeon stands, her hands resting against the desk in front of her. Suyeon’s face was extremely pale and sweat dripped down the side of her face. “Excuse me, could I please go --” Suyeon couldn’t even finish her sentence because she faints and panic spreads through the classroom.

“Kim Sunoo! Kim Y/N!” The teacher gestures for you to help her lift Suyeon up. “Let’s go to the nurse’s office.” The teacher says after both of Suyeon’s arms are wrapped around your and Sunoo’s shoulders. Together, you and Sunoo struggle under Suyeon’s weight to take the fainted girl to the nurse’s office.

“Poor Suyeon,” Sunoo says gently, his eyes darting over to you, “I hope she’s okay.”

You nod slightly in response. “Me too.”

Entering the nurse’s office you freeze up -- why is Sunghoon here?

“Y/N?” Sunoo asks, looking at you questioningly. A blush spreads over your face and you stumble forward, placing Suyeon on the bed next to where another student lies, face also pale and sweating. Park Sunghoon and Sim Jaeyun stand next to the boy watching as Nurse Jeon checks whatever needs to be checked.

One look at Suyeon and Nurse Jeon glances at your teacher. “Another one?”

“What do you mean, Sooyoung?”

Nurse Jeon drags your teacher out of the office leaving you alone with Sunoo, Jaeyun, Sunghoon, and two unconscious students. Afraid to glance around the room, your eyes never leave Suyeon. Her chest rises and falls at a rapid rate, and she’s sweating more than she was in the classroom. You stare at her hands, the area around her cuticles was bleeding pretty badly. Suyeon must’ve been picking at her skin before she fainted.

“Did she also faint, Sunoo?” Jaeyun asks. “Joon also fainted. Fell right out of his seat.”

Sunoo nods. “Suyeon stood up to ask the teacher something, but fainted halfway through her sentence,” Sunoo glances at the doorway of the office and then leans across the bed Suyeon lay on, lowering his voice. “I heard a rumor a couple of days ago. Apparently, Suyeon’s pregnant.” Sunoo looks back at Suyeon, “that’s probably why she fainted.”

It’s silent for a few moments before Sunghoon snorts. “You don’t believe that bullshit rumor do you, Sunoo?”

“Hey!”

You hear a chuckle. Looking up, you find Sunghoon grinning as his shoulders move. He was laughing and your insides curl up. You’re finally hearing the laugh you’ve been dying to hear for years.

“You’ll be eating your words soon, Sunghoon,” Sunoo scowls. “Nurse Jeon will walk back in and check Suyeonie and say she’s pregnant. You’ll owe me ten thousand won.”

Sunghoon laughs again. You really like his laugh.

Suyeon jolts awake suddenly, shattering apart the joyful mood in the room as everyone jumps back. “Suyeon --” your voice stops sharply when Suyeon grips your wrist, her fingernails digging into your skin and you cry out. You use your other hand to try and pry off Suyeon’s hands but to no avail.

Another hand appears and helps pry off Suyeon’s hand. “Jaeyun,” Sunghoon calls out, “hold her down. You too, Sunoo.” He calls for nurse Jeon after, taking your wrist into his hand as blood trails down from where Suyeon’s nails had dug into your skin and drops onto the white bedsheet. His hand is warm. “You’re hurt.” His eyes dig into yours. You feel uncomfortable beneath Sunghoon’s gaze because it doesn’t hold the same warmth that was there when he talked to Sunoo.

“Right,” you say, your voice shaking.

Sunghoon leads you over to a chair as nurse Jeon subsides Suyeon with some sort of injection. Kneeling down in front of you, Sunghoon cleans and bandages up your wrist. Pressing lightly, he looks back up at you. “Replace the bandage with a new one tomorrow morning.”

“O-Okay.” You internally curse yourself. Why did you have to be so awkward around Sunghoon?

“Y/N,” Sunoo calls out, “it’s time for us to head back.”

Nodding your head, you scramble up out of your chair and step around Sunghoon. His touch burns your skin and your heart quickens. You pinch yourself. No. You weren’t dreaming but this certainly felt like a dream.

“Are you okay, Y/N? Suyeonie was gripping you really hard,” Sunoo asks, concern shining on his face.

You smile, your cheeks burning beneath his attention. “I’m okay Sunoo, thank you for asking.”

Sunoo beams. He really does remind you of the sun. “Seatmates care for each other!” Warmth floods your chest and your cheeks burn even more. Sunoo’s sincere words circle your mind even as you settle back down in your seat next to Sunoo.

—-

It was finally lunchtime. You watch Sunghoon from afar as he laughs with Lee Heeseung, throwing some food at the older boy. Beside you, Seeun admires the bandage Sunghoon placed on you. “Wow, this is like a relic, Y/N. I bet if you auction it off it could go for a high price. I don’t think anyone has ever been bandaged up by Sunghoon before.”

You huff and rip your wrist out of Seeun’s hands. “I forgot to say thank you to Sunghoon. I should probably go do that now because what if he thinks I’m impolite? Oh, I would never sleep at night if I knew he thought that.”

Seeun laughs. “Well, go on then, thank loverboy for bandaging you up. Gift him with a kiss while you’re at it.”

You scowl and take your eyes off Sunghoon. “Seeun, shut up.”

Seeun giggles and reaches out to pinch your cheeks. “Hey! It’s just a suggestion! And I didn’t mean on the lips, you crazy girl! The cheek would do just fine.”

You ignore Seeun and turn back around to stare at Sunghoon, only to find him gone. The table where he sits with his friends is abandoned and you slump, looking back at Seeun. “I missed my chance. Now he’s going to think I’m impolite for the rest of his life.”

Seeun laughs and rubs your back. “Y/N, I’m sure he doesn’t think that.”

You ignore Seeun and push the food in front of you around on your plate. “I’m doomed for eternity. He’ll probably tell Sunoo he thinks I’m impolite for not saying thank you to him and Sunoo will gossip about it and soon --”

You never get to finish your sentence because students rush into the cafeteria, terror plastered across their faces. Seconds later, you see the reason why they were terrified.

Zombies.

Zombies only ever existed in your imagination. They only ever existed in books, movies, and TV shows. Not once did you ever think you would be an active participant in a Zombie apocalypse. You couldn’t move a single muscle as you watch students around you scramble to the exit or get tackled to the ground by a hungry Zombie. Beside you, Seeun screams in terror.

The Zombies were grotesque. Their faces were mutilated; like someone had punched them over and over. Blood covered their faces, eyes were gorged out and hanging, teeth were missing, cheeks were cut open, the eyes that remained in the eyesockets were the darkest black you had ever seen, and their skin was a terrifying pale green color.

“Y/N!” Seeun screams, terrified.

You snap back into reality as the fire alarm goes off and the sprinklers turn on. You and everyone else in the cafeteria are drenched in seconds. You survey the carnage going on around you. Zombies were pouring in through every available entrance and exit. In all honesty, you believed that this would be where you would die.

Windows.

You pinpoint a window, and then a table beneath it. You could stack chairs on top of the desk. Grabbing Seeun, you both slip across the wet ground, narrowly avoiding the Zombies that were once people you knew. Seeun sobs loudly behind you, shrieking whenever a Zombie strayed too close to the both of you. Your main priority was Seeun, you needed her safe.

Reaching the window, you tell Seeun to help you push a table up against the wall. Behind you, screams of terror filled the silence. You heard snarling and bones cracking, you heard other students crying out the names of their friends dying in front of their eyes. You needed to get out. You needed to find safety -- an adult. You needed an adult.

Grabbing a chair, you climb onto the table and smash open a window. Seeun climbs onto the table next to you, her sobs now muffled by the palms of her hands. You place the chair on top of the table and step onto it peering out the window. It was safe. Far safer than the cafeteria. “You first,” you tell Seeun.

“Y/N --”

“Seeun,” you cut your friend off, gripping her tightly, “I need you safe. You’re going first.”

Seeun nods her head. “Okay. Okay. Me first.” With a shaky inhale, Seeun climbs onto the chair, grips the window pane, and pulls herself out of the cafeteria. “Your turn!” She calls out and relief floods your body. Glancing behind you, you see the carnage -- it’s a sight you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

You drop down next to Seeun and grab her hand. “Let’s go to the nurse's office,” you say to Seeun. “Nurse Jeon will know what to do.” Together you both run away from the cafeteria and out into the courtyard, not expecting other places to be swarmed with Zombies -- but they were everywhere.

You begin to wonder how this was even possible -- where did the Zombie army come from? How were they able to turn that quickly? A Zombie lunges for both you and Seeun and with a quick yank, you pull the both of you away.

“Y/N!” Seeun calls out, but you ignore her. Surely Nurse Jeon is alive. She has to be. If not, maybe you and Seeun could seek refuge in the nurse’s office. You drag Seeun toward one of the entrances to the school building, but it’s immediately blocked by Zombies. You divert to another path, but come up short and terror begins to flood your body at a faster rate.

You didn’t want to die -- you couldn’t. You still had so much left to do.

But everywhere you went, there were Zombies and at every wall, Seeun sobbed louder. Anger and terror flood your veins, it blinds you, and you take Seeun down to a quieter place. Leaning against the wall, you turn to Seeun. “Seeun --”

“Y/N,” Seeun interrupts, “it’s hopeless.”

“Seeun, don’t say that,” you say, taking her other hand into yours. “I’ll look for another way in -- surely there’s a window we can climb into --”

“Y/N!” You’ve never heard Seeun scream louder. Suddenly, you’re yanked behind Seeun and watching a Zombie tackle Seeun to the ground. The world slows. There’s a loud ringing in your ears as you watch the terror occurring in front of you. Seeun’s screaming, desperately reaching for you, but you can’t hear her. You drop to your knees and crawl forward. Tears drop onto your hands. You didn’t even know you were crying. When did you start crying?

Desperately, you try to pull the Zombie off Seeun but it’s no use. You aren’t strong enough. The world is still quiet. Seeun stills beneath the Zombie, her hand falling limply to the ground. The Zombie’s eyes focus on you and you give in. This is how you die. Abruptly, there’s another hand on your shoulder that slips down to your forearm and is yanking you up onto your feet.

“Y/N!” Someone shouts right next to you. Everything slams back in focus and you finally hear everything -- you hear someone sobbing loudly but Seeun’s dead? Who is the one crying now? You touch your face. Oh, you’re the one crying.

You’re yanked forward as the Zombie pounces your way. You stumble over your feet, but the hand on your forearm keeps you steady. You focus on your savior; silver hair, long legs, and a familiar warm grip. It’s Park Sunghoon -- what was Park Sunghoon doing?

You try to say something, but all that comes out is a sob. You don’t know what is happening. One moment you were sitting in the cafeteria with Seeun, and the next you were watching her die. Your arm hangs limp in Sunghoon’s grip as he drags you through the outside of the school. Zombies and lifeless bodies litter the ground. Loud screaming and snarls fill the air and you wonder if Seeun could make it out of this alive even if you did just watch her die. Seeun can’t be dead. Sure, you saw her arm fall to the ground, but Sunghoon had pulled you away too soon.

Seeun can’t be dead. With that thought, you rip your arm out of Sunghoon’s hold causing the older boy to top in his tracks. He whirls around, eyes wide as he focuses all his attention on you. In another situation, you would be frozen beneath this kind of attention, but right now, all you want is Seeun by your side once more.

“Y/N --”

“Seeun’s not dead. I need to go back for her.” You like to think you sound more articulate and calm, but all that comes out are sobs and jumbled-up words. You watch Sunghoon’s eyes droop in sympathy. “Seeun -- she’s not -- she can’t be --”

“Y/N,” Sunghoon takes your hand. “I’m sorry. But we have to keep moving. They’re waiting for us.” He springs back into action with you following behind, sobbing even louder. You don’t even remember how you make it into the school building. Tears fill your vision and Seeun’s death is repeated in your mind. The more you watch it, the more hopelessness fills you. Seeun’s really dead. There’s no denying it anymore. Seeun’s dead and you just watched her die.

The running stops. Sunghoon bangs on a door and it slides open. You and Sunghoon step into a familiar classroom filled with unfamiliar faces. Sunghoon drops your hand and helps whoever was behind you stack the chairs back on top of the desks keeping the door shut.

Once again, ringing fills your ears and the world quietens around you. Seeun’s death is still playing in your mind. Your eyes drop down to look at your hands, and you see the blood that wasn’t there before. You wail loudly and drop to your knees, bunching up your skirt and hurriedly scrubbing off the blood from your hands. It doesn’t work. The blood won’t come off your hands and you continue to sob.

There are voices.

“...Sunghoon what the fuck….”

“....../N? Why is she here, Sunghoon? You said you were getting…..”

“......just pick up random people!”

“….is she doing? Someone stop her, Y/N……”

Hands pull your skirt away. The rubbing stops and you look up. Sunghoon’s kneeling in front of you again, his mouth poised to speak when you shriek and scramble back from Sunghoon, your butt sliding across the floor. “Don’t touch me!”

Silence rings through the room.

You finally glance around the room. Lee Heeseung. Park Jongseong. Sim Jaeyun. Nishimura Riki. Kim Sunoo. Yang Jungwon. All of Sunghoon’s friends are gathered in one room. And now you’re here. You’re here, and Seeun’s out there. Lying all alone. You’re alive and Seeun’s dead and you watched. You watched Seeun die. Hot tears stream down your face and you desperately wipe them away with the back of your hand, not caring if blood is smeared across your face.

“Y/N,” it’s Sunoo. Your sweet seatmate settles in front of you. He reaches out and guides your hand away from your face, wiping the tears himself. There’s a gentle smile on his face. “You’re safe now.”

You ignore the purposeful cough after Sunoo’s words. You can worry about safety later -- for now, you’re in a classroom that isn’t full of Zombies. “Sunoo,” your voice cracks and you lean forward, your cheek pressed to Sunoo’s chest as he wraps you into a hug. “Seeun’s dead.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Sunoo’s hand rubs your back. “I’m sorry.”

There’s a loud bang on the door and everyone in the room jumps. Sunoo squeezes you tightly, his chest not moving beneath your cheek. The silence in the room is overwhelming. Seconds pass and there’s no other bang. “Let’s get you up, Y/N, come on.” Sunoo helps you up, wiping your face with his hands again.

Sunoo helps you to a chair, and as soon as you sit down, you notice everyone in the room looking at you. Bowing your head, the tips of your ears turn red.

“Y/N,” Sunghoon says and you peer at him. “Are you okay?”

Nishimura Riki snorts. “That’s a stupid question to ask, Sunghoon.”

“What else am I supposed to ask? ‘How’s your day going so far?’”

Jaeyun snorts, clearly amused but covers it up with a cough.

Sunghoon looks back at you, but you avert your eyes, opting to stare at your shoes instead. A heavy silence settles over the group. Noises that were still unfamiliar to you floated through the open window in the classroom. Goosebumps spread over your skin as you hear heavy footsteps run down the hallway. Everything happened so fast that you’re still running the events that lead up to this moment through your head.

The cafeteria. You were watching Sunghoon. Seeun was beside you. The Zombies came and you escaped out a window with Seeun.

The back exterior wall of a building. You and Seeun. Watching Seeun die. Sunghoon appears out of nowhere and drags you with him to some kind of safety.

The classroom. You’re with Sunghoon. And Sunoo. And their friends -- the friends everyone talks about. The world is muffled around you once more and your breathing grows shallow -- how are you supposed to get home? How are you supposed to look Seeun’s parents in the eye and tell her their daughter is dead and you watched.

“Y/N?” Sunoo’s gentle fingers brush hair behind your ear. He looks concerned as he holds your chin between his fingers. “Hey, it’s okay.” It’s not okay -- you don’t think it will ever be okay because Seeun’s gone. Your best friend is gone. And you hate how her death is the only thing you can see whenever you close your eyes.

You tune back into the conversation happening beside you. Jongseong sounds exasperated. “We’ll stay here until tomorrow. We have no plan, Heeseung. And Sunghoon decided to add one more person to our party of seven.” Jongseong sounds more than exasperated, he sounds resentful. You curl into yourself even more because it wasn’t like you asked to join Sunghoon, he was the one who pulled you away from your death sentence.

“Having Y/N doesn’t mean the end of the world, Jongseong,” Jaeyun says, sighing after his sentence. “Since Sunghoon brought her here, she’s his burden.”

Burden. That’s all you were to these seven boys. A burden. And no one wants to bear the burden.

Sniffling, you wipe your nose with the sleeve of your school cardigan and stand up. The chair scrapes against the ground and all attention is pulled to you once again. You stalk over to the corner of the classroom and slide down the wall, curling up into a ball, and pressing your face against your legs desperate to sleep because when you wake up, hopefully, you’ll be back in your seat beside Sunoo with the sun shining on your face and Seeun’s familiar giggles floating through the classroom.

—-

It’s night when you pull your face away from your legs. It’s gotten oddly quieter, the only noises are from the Zombies. Looking out into the darkened classroom, you find Jaeyun, Riki, Heeseung, and Sunoo playing a card game, using the light from the lamp outside the classroom as a way to see.

Someone drops down beside you. Park Sunghoon. He holds out half a slice of Tiramisu wordlessly. He holds the other half. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until it was in your mouth. Instantly, you’re savoring the flavor and your taste buds are begging for more.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” Sunghoon asks, his voice low.

You shrug. You didn’t know the answer to that question because you were feeling so much that it felt like nothing. Turning your head slightly you stare at Sunghoon, his silver hair standing out in the dark classroom. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone as perfect as Park Sunghoon. It was like his existence was written in the stars because no one has ever shone as brightly as he has. Sunghoon has everything anyone’s ever wanted.

“I’m sorry about Seeun,” Sunghoon says again, his eyes meeting yours.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, your finger tracing shapes on the dirty ground beneath you. Sunghoon’s uniform looks perfect like he had just put it on. His shoes, though, give it all away. They’re bloody, just like your skirt and your hands. “Can I call my mom?” You hate how your voice trembles. “I miss her. I want to hear her voice.”

“Oh,” Sunghoon glances over to his friends playing cards in the lamplight. “We don’t have any phones with us, Y/N.”

“Oh.” Your eyes burn again and you blink them away. You’re starting to grow sick of crying. “Do we know anything about this situation at all?”

Sunghoon shakes his head and his knee bumps yours. You feel the familiar warmth you felt back in the nurse’s office when Sunghoon bandaged you up.

The Nurse’s office.

“Sunghoon,” you start tentatively, his name rolling out of your mouth awkwardly. “What about Suyeon and Joon?”

Sunghoon looks at you confused.

“This morning. They both fainted and looked really pale and were sweating lots and what if they’re patient zero and one and --” Your heartbeat increases with each word you say, and it peaks as Sunghoon interrupts your sentence by grabbing your arm and peeling off your bandage.

Where there were four bloody scratches before, there was now nothing. It was as if you had never been scratched.

Your heart stills and you look up at Sunghoon who was already looking at you. “Sunghoon, I --”

A loud thud interrupts you. And another. And another. The silence in the classroom is loud. Sunghoon’s hand tightens around your wrist. Terror seeps through your blood and you adjust your position on the floor to be closer to Sunghoon.

Then, it happens all too fast; the window on the door to the classroom is smashed open and somehow, all the chairs stacked up on the table in front of the door go tumbling down onto the ground revealing a young boy. The snarling of the Zombies grows louder and the young boy, bleeding and terrified, pulls himself through the broken window of the door.

“Taki?” Nishimura Riki knows the boy. He’s looking at the unfamiliar boy with excitement, relief, and apprehension.

Turning around, the boy smiles when he spots Riki. “Riki! Hey!” He holds up his hand and waves and that’s when you, and everyone else see it. A bite. His hand is bloody and there, clear as daylight, is a bite.

Sunghoon’s hand is firmer around your wrist when he pulls you up off the ground. You keep your eyes on the scene unfolding in front of you -- Taki waving enthusiastically with a wide smile while Riki regards him in disbelief which turns into sadness.

“Taki,” Riki starts softly as Sunghoon leads you over to the rest of the group. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Riki!” Taki replies, still cheerful as ever.

The groans and snarls of Zombies grow even closer.

“Taki,” Riki says again, his voice still soft and eyes shining in the dark.

“Yeah?”

The first tear falls down Riki’s cheek. “You’re my best friend, you know that?”

“You’re mine too!” That’s when you notice it: Taki’s skin is beginning to turn green. Beside you, Heeseung and Jongseong exchange words in a low mumble.

“Sunghoon,” you whisper, “his skin. Look.”

“Y/N,” you look up at Sunghoon, his eyes rake over your face and even though you’re in the middle of imminent death, you feel warm. “Stick close.” His fingers brush over your wrist and somehow your stomach is still able to produce butterflies.

Heeseung walks closer to where Riki and Taki stand and lays a hand on Riki’s shoulder. “Riki,” Heeseung speaks, “we can’t stay here.” Behind you, a window clicks open. The tension in the room rises and you begin to feel unsettled. The groans of the Zombies are closer than ever.

“Heeseung --”

“Riki. We have to go.” Heeseung’s voice is hard and you see his hand digging into Riki’s shoulders.

“But Taki --”

“We can’t save him, Riki.”

There’s a loud snarl and that’s when you see it. One of the many Zombies crowding the door’s broken window. Flashes of Seeun’s death run through your mind and you can’t breathe. This feels all too scary and you want to escape. You want to go home. You want to be walking to school with Seeun again. You want to be fourteen and see Park Sunghoon laugh for the first time again.

“Riki? What’s going on?” Taki is confused. He doesn’t realize his skin is turning a light shade of green. He doesn’t notice the black liquid pouring out of his eyes. He doesn’t realize how black his eyes are turning. Taki steps closer as Riki and Heeseung step back.

“Taki,” Riki’s sob is heartbreaking. You hate this, you hate watching Riki have to come to terms with the fact his friend is turning into a Zombie. “You’ve been bitten.” Riki’s voice is thick as he speaks through the tears pouring down his face.

“What? No I’m not. Why are you saying these things, Riki?”

Behind you there’s movement. Glancing over your shoulder you find Yang Jungwon climbing out the window and slipping into the night.

There’s another thud and you find Taki on the ground with Heeseung gripping Riki tightly as the younger sobs loudly, adding more noise to snarling and groaning coming from the Zombies pressed up against the locked door.

In the next second, Taki is rising up from the floor and launching himself at Heeseung and Riki. Riki’s thrown out of the way and Heeseung tackles Taki down onto the floor. It’s like the Zombies are excited with the way they throw themselves at the door, eager to enter the room and take down the seven occupying the room.

There’s a flurry of movement behind you and you watch as Jongseong ushers Sunoo out the window. “You have to be careful, Sunoo,” Jongseong warns the boy, “one wrong move and you’re dead.”

Sunoo snorts. “That’s assuring, thanks, Jongseong.” And Sunoo’s gone, slipping into the night the same way Jungwon did. Suddenly, you’re being ushered forward, Jongseong’s sharp eyes slipping to you and immediate disdain creeps over his face.

“Y/N next,” Sunghoon demands from behind you.

“Sung--”

“She’s next.” Sunghoon’s voice leaves no room for argument and Jongseong huffs. You wonder how they both could be so calm in a situation like this. Behind you, you hear Heeseung grunt and Taki, the newly turned Zombie, growl. Riki’s sobs are loud and Jaeyun’s calming words aren’t doing anything to subdue the younger.

“What do I do?” You ask hesitantly, your voice quiet under Jongseong’s gaze.

“Climb out of the window and across to the broadcasting club’s room.”

Sunghoon’s hand slips from your wrist as Jongseong pulls you harshly towards the desk in front of the window. You look at him expectantly. “What?” Jongseong asks, “do you want to die?” You steal a glance at the horde of Zombies still pushing up against the door, their arms reaching through the window. You look at Heeseung, his school uniform getting torn beneath Taki’s needy hands, Jaeyun and Riki on the ground, and Sunghoon, who is behind you frowning.

When you look back at Jongseong, there’s shock hidden in his eyes. You wonder how he was able to figure out what you were thinking. You seriously wouldn’t mind dying right now. Jongseong’s reaching out and pulling you closer to him. You’ve never been this close to him. He looks extremely handsome.

“You’re not dying Y/N,” he whispers harshly, it’s hard to hear him over the noise echoing throughout the classroom. “And if you do die, it’ll be my own hands.” You never do get to ask Jongseong what he means because he’s pushing you towards the window and forcing you out. “Hold on, Y/N, and don’t look down. You’ll know when you’re at the broadcasting room because Jungwon will be waiting for you.”

The coldness of the night seeps through your school uniform. It does nothing to make the sweat on your hands evaporate, though. The ledge is not wide enough for a school kid to be inching their way across the outside of the school building. There’s little to nothing for your hands to grab onto and you don’t heed Jongseong’s advice. Looking down was your greatest mistake.

You’re so far up, and everywhere you look there’s a Zombie walking. One wrong step and you’re dead. You’re dead, and you won’t ever see Sunghoon again. One wrong step, and you’ll see Seeun again. Pushing yourself against the cool wall, you squeeze your eyes shut as tears form again. You didn’t want to be here in this situation. How did this all even happen? How did people you know turn into bloodthirsty monsters?

Opening your eyes, you see what Jongseong had meant when he told you Jungwon would be waiting for you. Light floods through an open window and there Yang Jungwon was, with fiery red hair, peering at you as he leans out of the window.

You don’t know much about Yang Jungwon; you just know the basics. He’s class president and head of the taekwondo club. He’s very good friends with Kang Taehyun and he works at a cat cafe. He’s also Park Sunghoon’s neighbor.

You inch your way over to the broadcasting club’s room, your hands sweatier than they’ve ever been. The horror that lay beneath you kept your heart rate beating at a rapid speed and kept terror streaming through your bloodstream.

Jungwon helps you into the broadcasting room, it’s much nicer in here and you spy a few water bottles resting on the desk. Instantly, you’re reminded of how thirsty you are. “Can we drink that?” You ask, making eye contact with Sunoo who spins around on a chair, his fingers fidgeting with whatever was in his lap.

“Go for it,” Sunoo says, “I think there’s enough for the eight of us.”

Riki is the next to join the three of you with bloodshot eyes and a runny nose. Sunoo, with pitying eyes, hands Riki a tissue box and gently cards a hand through the younger boy’s hair. Riki instantly melts into Sunoo’s touch and you feel your heart tugging in despair for the boy.

Jaeyun follows after Riki also looking incredibly disheveled. He converses with Jungwon in a low voice and you begin to grow restless waiting for the remaining three boys. It hasn’t even been a full day and you’re already exhausted. You’re ready for this to all be some kind of fucked up prank because you can’t take this anymore. You want to survive to see your mom again, but you’re already tired that the thought of giving yourself to the Zombies doesn’t scare you as much anymore.

Jongseong is the next to join. He doesn’t look happy, “they forced me to go. The door is about to break down and Taki’s only just been restrained --” There’s a loud cry, silence, and then a bone-shattering thud. You, along with the five boys, crowd the window and look out into the dead night. Someone’s lying on the pavement, their limbs bent in awkward angles and your breath catches.

Riki’s the first to turn away, Jaeyun following after. Sunoo’s hand snakes around your elbow and pulls you away from the window. “Come on, Y/N, let’s go sit and wait.” You could hear the desperation in Sunoo’s voice so you comply, also desperate for some sort of distraction from the fear telling you that body was Sunghoon.

“Sunoo,” you say in a hushed voice, your knees pulled up to your chest, “I was talking to Sunghoon before. We know nothing about what’s going on but what if Suyeon and Joon were the ones who started it? Think about it, Sunoo.” You were desperate to have some kind of answer because maybe then you could figure out a way to end this all, to bring everyone infected back.

Sunoo stares at you, his face morphing through many emotions. That was one thing you always loved about Sunoo, he was always transparent about how he felt. “Y/N,” Sunoo says in amazement, “oh my god. Suyeonie. She was pale, but I thought she looked kind of green, and Joon -- they were both sweating a lot and then --” his eyes drop to your wrist that was no longer bandaged.

“Y/N,” you immediately hide your wrist from Sunoo. “Y/N, Suyeon made you bleed.” His eyes meet yours and you see the fear.

“Sunoo --”

“Heeseung!” Jungwon exclaims, hurriedly pulling the oldest through the window. Seconds later, Sunghoon also lands in the broadcasting room and his eyes immediately seek you out. His and Heeseung’s uniforms were in tatters. There were big gaping holes in their blazers and buttons missing, blood covering their pants and white blouses, and their ties had been ripped off.

“Are you okay, Heeseung? Sunghoon?” Jaeyun asks, “you aren’t hurt?”

Behind them, Jongseong slams the window shut quite loudly, and follows it up with a loud shout of “fuck!” The response from the Zombies is almost instant -- they begin to snarl and groan, moving in the direction of the window that had just been shut.

Of course -- no one pays attention to that response except for Jaeyun who furrows his eyebrows.

Jungwon hands Jongseong the last water bottle full of water. “This is all we have,” Jungwon speaks gently, “we’ll need to venture out tomorrow to find supplies. We can’t stay in here forever.”

“There was plenty of food in that classroom,” Sunoo says forlornly. “Everyone’s bags had secret snacks for nighttime studying.”

“We also need a phone,” Sunghoon speaks up, “some form of communication. We’re in the dark, we have no clue what’s going on, and,” Sunghoon cuts himself off, sighing deeply, “there may be. .Infections beyond the school.”

Everyone inhales sharply, their worst fear coming true.

Jongseong slumps down in defeat, hanging his head. “Jungwon’s right. We can’t stay here forever. We have to leave and try and reach somewhere safe, like a quarantine camp. But first, we need a phone.”

“The only information I know is that Suyeon and Joon may have started the outbreak at school, but how they got it themselves is still a mystery,” Sunghoon continues, his eyes holding yours.

“How do you know that, Hoon?” Heeseung asks, resting beside Jongseong.

“Because when they were in the infirmary they were acting weird,” Sunghoon says, “before Joon knocked himself out, he was moving weirdly and always trying to bite Jaeyun and I. I don’t know much about Suyeon, but I know when she woke up, she grabbed onto Y/N and made her bleed.”

All attention is directed back to you again.

“I bandaged her up, the scratches were pretty bad. Before Taki came, I checked her wrist. The scratches aren’t there anymore. It’s almost like she wasn’t scratched.”

The silence is too loud.

“Suyeon’s fingers were bleeding,” Sunoo says in a hushed voice, “when she scratched Y/N, her blood must’ve come into contact with Y/N’s.”

“So, Y/N’s a Zombie,” Riki says.

“What?” You croak, taken aback by the accusation. “No. I’m not.”

“We don’t know that Y/N,” Jongseong backs up Riki. Of course he does. “You could be some weird evolved Zombie for all we know.”

You scowl, hot anger surging through your veins suddenly. You don’t know where the change in mood came from. “If I were a Zombie, you’d be dead already, Jongseong.”

Jongseong scoffs. “You wouldn’t even be able to land a single finger on me. I’d take you down before you even get the chance to bite me. You’re weak compared to me, Y/N.”

All you see is red. It’s like you don’t have control of your own mind as you lunge for Jongseong ready to prove him wrong. Before you could even touch the boy, an arm wraps around your waist and holds you back. You struggle in the person’s arms, and you spit at the ground in front of Jongseong. “I’ll kill you,” your mouth is moving without your consent and spitting out words you don’t want to say. “I’ll fucking kill you.” With one last struggle, you’re pushing arms holding you back from Jongseong off you. The next thing you hear is a loud thud and a groan.

Glancing over your shoulder you see Sunghoon crumpled up on the ground, the locker that stood behind him was caved in, marking how he was flung into the metal. You stop breathing and register the silence and eyes staring at you in terror.

“I think Jongseong’s right,” Jungwon speaks up. “We can’t trust you, Y/N.”

“I’m not a Zombie,” your hands clench, fingernails pressing into your palm. “I don’t even know how I did that!”

“We can’t trust you,” Jungwon repeats. “But I don’t think we should be pushing you out to be with the Zombies,” he gestures to the recording booth. “Go in there.”

“You want me in the recording booth?”

“Just until morning. If by morning, you haven’t changed or done something weird, we’ll let you out, but, if something happens overnight, we’re leaving you here for good.” Jungwon’s tone sounds final and you can’t find it in you to rebut his idea because, if you think about it logically, it’s what’s best for both you and the seven boys.

Entering the recording room with Jungwon locking you in, it grows deathly quiet. You’re alone with your thoughts for the first time today and you don’t know what to do.

—-

“Y/N.” You don’t know how much time has passed when Sunghoon steps into the recording room. Your head snaps up at the sound of his voice and immediately you’re spewing your apologies. You didn’t mean to throw Sunghoon into the lockers. You hope he’s not too injured, otherwise you won’t be able to sleep at night knowing you had hurt Sunghoon unintentionally.

Something of a smile appears on Sunghoon’s face as he sits in front of you. “It’s okay, Y/N, I know you didn’t mean to push me that hard.” His hand reaches for your wrist and you let him take it, his fingertips gently tracing the patch of skin that was once covered by scratches.

“Sunghoon?” You ask, not raising your voice above a whisper.

“Hmm?”

“Are you scared?”

It’s silent for a moment. The moonlight washes over Sunghoon’s face and you’ve never wanted to kiss someone this badly before. “Of you? Never,” came Sunghoon’s response, and your body burns. It burns so intensely you can’t breathe.

“Oh. I was asking if you were scared of the situation. Not me.”

Sunghoon looks up at you, his hand slipping from your wrist to hold your hand. “Oh. I meant what I said, Y/N. You don’t scare me.”

You smile softly. You don’t know how, but being with Sunghoon like this brings some sense of comfort to you. “Oh. Thank you, Sunghoon.”

Sunghoon smiles softly. It’s the first real smile you’ve seen on his face since this whole Zombie situation began. Warmth settles in your stomach and your shoulders sag, the weight you were carrying around slides off. “Are you okay, Y/N? How are you feeling?”

You snort lightly. ”That’s like the third time you’ve asked me if I was okay.”

“I ask because I care, Y/N.”

“Oh. Sunghoon, I--” you stare at Sunghoon, unblinking. Your stomach feels weird. It’s way too loud in the recording booth and you want out. You slip your hand out of Sunghoon’s and push your face into your legs. Did Sunghoon know about your feelings? Or was he being honest? You couldn’t believe that you were at the beginning of a Zombie apocalypse and still thinking about Sunghoon and how much you liked him.

“Y/N?” Sunghoon asks, sounding hesitant.

“I’m okay,” you mumble.

“Okay.” Awkward tension floats through the room. You don’t make any move to disperse the awkwardness and instead, you let it simmer.

“Right, I came in here because Sunoo told us the debate team was supposed to go on their annual school trip tomorrow, but obviously that isn’t going to happen, but in the classroom where they meet up, there’s a cupboard full of food and some water,” Sunghoon tells you and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him talk this hesitantly before.

You look back up at Sunghoon and instantly regret it because he’s so beautiful. “Oh. Okay. Do you have a plan yet? Am I even included in that plan? Because I can leave you all alone if you want. It might be easier since I’m probably a burden to you.”

Sunghoon stares at you. He stares at you for a long time that it becomes uncomfortable. “Do you think you’re a burden, Y/N?”

You shrug half-heartedly. “It’s easy to tell when I’m not wanted.”

“You’re wanted, Y/N,” Sunghoon says intently, his eyes never drifting away from yours.

You don’t say anything in response. How could that be true? It’s clear to see you’re a burden in the way the boys regard you, it’s clear to see you’re a burden in the way Jongseong talks to you, and it’s clear to see you’re a burden when you heard Jaeyun’s words.

“Y/N. .” Sunghoon says softly. You’ve never heard him speak like that before. It’s gentle like he’s coaxing a cat from underneath a car. It’s a comforting voice, one that makes you want to dive into and soak forever in. “You’re wanted.”

You scoff and look away, your heart tremors beneath your ribcage. Butterflies bloom and stick themselves to your gut. “How do I know you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

There’s a pause.

“Because I --” Sunghoon falters. His eyes slide away from your face and you feel your heart burn. “You should get some sleep, Y/N.”

“Right. Of course. Goodnight, Sunghoon.”

“Goodnight, Y/N. Sleep well.”

You don’t get any sleep that night.

—-

You’re allowed out of the recording booth when you wake up. You’re still regarded with caution, but you don’t care, you’re just glad to be out of the room. Sitting on the floor next to Sunoo, you listen to the conversation happening around you. They’re discussing a way to get to the debate room without alerting any Zombies to their presence.

“I have useful information if anyone wants to hear it,” Jaeyun says, raising his hand.

“What is it, Jaeyun?” Heeseung asks. “We’ll take anything at this point.”

“I think I know how to get past the Zombies.”

Everyone leans in and listens eagerly. “Sound attracts Zombies,” Jaeyun starts to explain. “And we’re in the broadcasting room. This is where the morning school announcements are made which means there are speakers all over school connected to this exact room. So, if we play a song, all the Zombies will move to wherever that sound is coming from. It’ll give us a clear path to the debate room.”

“I love it when you speak like that, Jaeyun,” Sunghoon comments, wearing a teasing smile. Seems like someone got a goodnight's sleep, you think bitterly to yourself. You were so sure Sunghoon was going to say something last night that was going to completely change your relationship. You were proven wrong, though.

“Someone needs to stay back though, right?” Riki asks, “because who will turn off the music?”

“I’m sure we can keep it going until it stops,” Sunoo pipes up.

“Yeah, but how will it stop?” Riki presses, “there’s no timer. It would keep on playing and we’d all go crazy.”

“I don’t think any of us should separate from the group,” Jungwon says firmly. “Separation is the last thing we want to do now.”

“What song should we play?” You ask, “because I suggest Red Velvet. Playing Zimzalabim would be so funny.”

Beside you, Sunoo giggles.

“I was gonna suggest Ring Ding Dong by SHINee,” Riki says, a wicked grin appearing.

“We’re immediately vetoing that idea,” Jongseong says, scowling in Riki’s direction.

“What about classical music?” Sunghoon asks, “that shit doesn’t get too repetitive, right? It’s just a bunch of instruments playing over and over again. No lyrics, just vibes.”

“No lyrics, just vibes,” Jongseong mimics and Sunghoon whacks him in retaliation.

“Let’s try to find some music, surely they have some in here,” Jaeyun says, standing up.

“First, I need to use the toilet,” Riki announces. “Should I pee out the window?” Riki earns disgusted groans in return and a small giggle from you.

“No. No peeing out of windows,” Jongseong says firmly. “We may be in an apocalypse but that doesn’t mean we don’t do our best to remain hygienic. We need to set up some kind of toilet, maybe in the recording booth? We’re not going to use it anymore, right?”

“I sure hope not,” you mutter, folding your arms over your chest. “Because there’s no way I’m going back in there under suspicion with it smelling like shit and piss.”

“The recording booth it is,” Jungwon says, “I did boy scouts when I was younger, let me build the toilet.”

“Me too!” Sunoo pipes up, eagerly pushing himself off the ground, “I was your group leader, remember Wonie?”

Jungwon’s smile is fond as he remembers his past memories, and together he and Sunoo begin to build the make-shift toilet. All around you, everyone falls into conversation to pass the time leaving you alone with your thoughts once more.

You begin to wonder how hard you had pushed Sunghoon to make a dent in the metal lockers to the left of you. In fact, you’re 100% certain you aren’t even that strong. You’re pretty weak so for you to be able to make a permanent mark on metal terrifies and oddly intrigues you -- what more can you do? Surely the small bit of blood on Suyeon’s that infected your bloodstream carries some kind of weird mutation causing you to be this way -- you hope you get answers soon because all this uncertainty is driving you insane.

“Get a good sleep, Y/N?” Sunghoon asks, sitting down in front of you.

“Yeah. You?”

Sunghoon hums. “The best I could get.” There’s a lull in the conversation. You immediately think back to earlier in the recording booth -- you were so sure Sunghoon was going to confess, or something because the way he was looking at you, and the way he was phrasing his words, made you believe. It made you find hope in this bleak apocalypse. “How are you feeling?”

You give Sunghoon a deadpan look. “This question? Again?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “I think it’s warranted in a situation like this.”

You smile softly. “Yeah. I suppose. And I’m feeling a bit nervous because we don’t know what’s out there. I hope Jaeyun’s right. I hope this plan works. I hope --” you sigh heavily, your chin resting on your knee.

Sunghoon reaches forward and takes your hand into his. “We’ll make it, Y/N.”

“Okay,” Jungwon and Sunoo step out of the recording booth. “Who is first?”

“Y/N,” Sunghoon says loudly, “ladies first. People who need to shit go last.”

“Riki, you’re going last then!”

“Shut the fuck up Sunoo.”

It took quite a while for all seven boys to use the toilet. After numerous rock-paper-scissor games and fights, Heeseung left the recording booth with the nastiest look on his face. “When we make it to a safety zone you all better sleep with one eye open.”

“Even me?” You ask, pouting.

“They’ll call me Misogynist Heeseung.”

“Alright, Misogynist Heeseung, do the honors,” Jaeyun gestures to the booth, “go back in there and turn on the music.”

Heeseung hisses at Jaeyun and turns on his heel, taking a deep breath before entering the recording booth once more and turning on the classical music you’d found in one of the dented lockers. With the first note of Four Seasons playing, the school speakers become a target for the Zombies limping through the school grounds.

You, along with the others, watch out the window in awe. Jaeyun was right, Zombies are attracted to sound.

“It’s showtime,” Jongseong rolls his shoulders back and rolls his sleeves up. “I will do anything to make it to the room of treasures even if it means leaving you weaklings behind.”

It’s silent. Overwhelmingly silent.

“Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

“Yeah,” Riki hums, “we all know you’d be the first to die.”

“We’re running out of time, let’s go already,” groans Sunoo heading over to the door. “I’m opening up this damn door and running all the way to the debate room. I am about to eat Y/N/’s hair.”

You touch your hair, frowning. “Why my hair? Why not Jaeyun’s?”

Sunoo shrugs. “First name that came to mind was yours. Okay, opening the door in 3. . 2. . 1 --”

“-- WAIT --”

Sunoo wrenches open the door.

Nothing happens.

There’s a pause in the music. And then it starts all over again.

The look Sunoo gives the rest of the group is one of pure jubilation. “Last one to the debate room is Zombie bait for our next mission!” And then he’s flying out the door, Jaeyun and Jongseong shouting after him.

“Do they think the music will drown out the noise they’re making?” Jungwon asks with a shake of his head. “Stupid. Idiots. All of them are.” He steps out the door, Heeseung following behind. Sunghoon reaches for your hand and smiles down at you. Behind you, Riki groans, “keep the heart eyes to a minimum around me, please.”

“Let’s go, Y/N.”

Stepping out, you stare around you in amazement. Zombies are desperately trying to reach for the speaker, climbing and standing on top of each other to try and satiate their hunger. At the end of the hallway stood the rest of the ground. Jaeyun was holding Sunoo by his collar.

“We have to climb up two flights of stairs,” Jungwon explains quietly, but loud enough for you to all hear over the music. “Be aware of your surroundings. There might be a few Zombies who haven’t gone towards the speakers.” With one final shared look, you begin your long ascent to the room full of food and water.

You were nearing the end. Sunghoon’s hand was tightly gripping yours and you could see your final destination in sight. You realized you truly had nothing to worry about because Jaeyun’s plan was foolproof --

And then you’re being yanked back by your hair.

With a loud shriek, you go flying backward, your hand losing Sunghoon’s. Pain explodes as you land on your back harshly. Standing above you with their hand still curled in your hair is Joon. The boy from the nurse’s office. His face is bloody and there’s a long cut down the middle of his face, the sight of it makes you retch. His eyes are the darkest black you’ve ever seen.

“Sunghoon!” You cry out, desperate to get away. Your stomach churns and you wonder why Joon specifically targeted you, and how Joon was still a functioning human. Reaching up, you try to pry Joon’s hands away from your hair, but he was too strong.

Snarling, the older boy yanks your head back harder, a harsh pulsing pain beats rapidly against your skull. Is this how you die?

“Joon?” Jake sounds astonished. “You’re alive?”

You had no clue what was going on. Fear creeps into your bloodline and sets your heart alight. You struggle in Joon’s grasp and cry out, a sob wrenching itself free from your throat. Maybe you didn’t want to die. Maybe you wanted to survive because there was still some hope deep within you that everything will be okay if you make it out of this alive. (Maybe you were feeling this hope because of Park Sunghoon.)

“Of course I’m alive, idiot,” sneers Joon, his hand tightening in your hair. “Why would they kill patient zero?”

You reach up and claw at Joon’s arm, your nails snagging his skin, cutting the boy open and he begins to bleed. “You’re such a bitch, Y/N,” Joon growls, his other hand wrapping around your neck and dragging you up from the ground, your breath hitching as you struggle to breathe.

“Let Y/N go, Joon,” Sunghoon demands, his eyes only focused on you. You feel pathetic, you’re unable to do anything -- you can’t even breathe. Maybe it would’ve been better if they left you in the broadcasting room.

“Why should I let her go?” Joon’s voice was close to your ear. You could practically taste the black blood spilling out of his mouth and onto your clothed shoulder. “She’s just like me. She’s another Zombie and you’re willingly keeping her in your group?”

“Zombie or not, let go of Y/N,” Sunghoon says, his voice low, and his eyes finally looking at Joon. He steps forward and then takes another step, and another, and another -- and then Joon snarls. It’s not loud enough to be heard over the music pouring out of the speakers, and yet, all the Zombies turn and focus their deadly black eyes on the group of seven boys, with Sunghoon in the front.

Terror floods your veins and you struggle in Joon’s grasp. You couldn’t let more people fall victim to Zombies because of you. With all eyes focused on the seven boys, a chill creeps up your spine. “One move,” Joon begins, his voice threateningly low, “and you’ll join them.”

Joon lets go of you and you instantly gasp for air, your chest heaving in delight. “You don’t believe me, do you?” Joon says, a hand reaching out to grip the back of your blouse. “Y/N’s a Zombie. The moment Suyeon’s blood entered her bloodstream, Y/N began to turn.”

“We locked her in the recording booth for a night,” Jungwon says, his eyes carefully passing over every Zombie looking at them with hungry black eyes, “nothing happened. Nothing changed.”

Joon laughs. It’s loud, but the Zombies don’t move. “But something did happen, didn’t it, Y/N?” He yanks you back towards him and you shriek, desperation filling your veins again. “What happened, Y/N?” His fingers curl through your hair, brushing it away from your face gently.

“I -- I pushed Sunghoon.” You struggle to speak, fear hindering your every move, and every word. “And he dented the lockers in the broadcasting room.”

Joon hums. “That’s an oddly inhumane amount of strength, don’t you think?”

“Please let me go,” you beg.

“Do you believe me now?” Joon asks, ignoring your begging.

“Y/N’s not a zombie,” Sunghoon says, and it sounds like he truly believes it.

“Sunghoon,” you whisper, crestfallen.

“Fine, I’ll make you believe.” Without warning, Joon’s hands settle on your chest and rip your blouse apart, your eyes widen and immediately your arms come up to cover your bare torso. One hand wraps around your neck while the other produces a knife. It’s one from the kitchen in the cafeteria and you’re paralyzed by fear.

“Watch me,” Joon growls, “or I’ll kill Y/N.”

Seven sets of eyes settle on your bare body and if this was any other circumstance you would blush. You look at Sunghoon again and it’s hard to make out what he’s feeling as he stares back at you. You want to say something to him, you want to comfort him, you want to tell him to run and leave you here, but you don’t. You feel the cool touch of a blade against your abdomen, settled just beneath your bra, and then you’re being cut open, the blade digging into your skin and you cry out.

A long line is cut into your abdomen and blood flows out of the cut. It’s dark red and it matches the blood already on your hands. You collapse to the ground once Joon lets go of you and you continue to cry, the pain overwhelming. You push your hands against the wound to stop the bleeding but to no avail.

You were dying and no one was helping you. It was a picture-perfect scenario because you did nothing to help Seeun. “I’m sorry,” you whisper to the ground. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” And then, little by little, the pain lessens. Little by little, you stop bleeding. Little by little, the cut on your abdomen heals itself.

Grabbing you roughly by the hair, Joon forces you up and your hands away from your now-healed cut. “Do you believe me now?”

You look over at Sunghoon. His eyes are wide and his mouth is slightly ajar. You don’t dare look at anyone else. For the final time, Joon lets go of you and you collapse back onto the ground. Your head pounds and your upper body feels overwhelmingly hot. “I’ll be back,” Joon warns. “This is only a warning.” He snarls again, and every Zombie in the hallway trails after him, their black beady eyes never leaving the group of seven boys.

“Y/N,” Sunghoon says, darting forward. He rushes to your side, crouching down in front of you and reaching out. You quickly back away, tears pouring down your cheeks as you keep your head down and arms wrapped around yourself.

“Leave me alone Sunghoon,” you say, your voice thick with tears. “I’m a Zombie, don’t you understand?”

“Y/N, look at me,” Sunghoon says softly, he takes off his blazer and covers you with it. “Zombie or not I still want you with me.” Hesitatingly, he reaches out to brush strands of hair behind your ear. He then cups your cheek and his thumb brushes your cheek. “Come on, Y/N, I bet you’re hungry.”

“Yeah, for brains,” you mutter under your breath, angry at the world. Looking back up, you see Sunghoon smiling. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You feel shy beneath Sunghoon’s gaze.

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Sunghoon answers, “Jongeong’s brain can be the first to get eaten.”

—-

You reach the classroom that holds all of the debate club’s food and water for the trip they were supposed to take today. Your eyes stare at the food stacked up, and the water lying on the ground. You felt like you were in heaven.

Jaeyun’s the first to move. He darts forward, swipes the Home Run Balls, and the rest follow, squabbling over who gets what. Sunghoon nudges you. “What do you want, Y/N?”

“I don’t know,” you answer, hugging Sunghoon’s blazer tighter around you

Sunghoon smiles and steps into the cupboard. A few seconds later he reappears with a chocolate bar and water. “Here, you’ll probably need a lot of water after what happened, Y/N. And chocolate just because everyone loves chocolate.” After handing you the water and chocolate bar, Sunghoon takes some snacks for himself and leads you over to some chairs.

You both eat silently, letting the loud yet quiet voices of the others fill up the silence. You didn’t know what to say -- what were you supposed to say after a situation like that? You feel Sunghoon’s shoulder brush your’s and you instantly become aware of how close he is.

“Sunghoon?” You ask hesitantly.

Sunghoon glances over at you, humming slightly. His stare pins you to your seat. He still looks beautiful, you think to yourself, like a star. He still looks like he was hand crafted from heaven above, and he still looks so out of your league. No matter the time, no matter the place, no matter the situation, the answer will always be the same; Sunghoon will never be yours. He’s destined for things bigger than your small village, and he’s destined for someone better than you. And yet --

And yet he’s sitting next to you.

And yet his school-issued blazer is wrapped around your body.

(You remember bringing Park Sunghoon up to your mother one night. She laughs and shakes her head, finishing dishing the takeaway chicken she bought after work onto your plate. “Park Sunghoon, that boy is destined to be a star, Y/N.”

He’s out of your league is unsaid. You’re no good for him is unsaid.

“There’s no point loving someone like that, Y/N,” your mother warns gently. “He’s a star. And you know how bright they shine.”)

If this is how a star shines, you think, eyes trailing over Sunghoon, then I want him in every way possible.

“Thank you,” you say, smiling slightly.

“For what?”

You shrug and glance away from Sunghoon.

“Ah,” Sunghoon can read between the lines. He reaches for your hand and squeezes. “I’d do it again, Y/N.”

“Sunghoon?” You turn back to him. “You’d do what again?”

Sunghoon’s ears burn red. “Don’t make me say it, Y/N.”

You grip Sunghoon’s hand tightly. You don’t want to let this moment slip away like last time in the darkness of the broadcasting club’s recording booth. “Sunghoon,” you say, your eyes hold the unspoken desperation.

There’s a scrape of a chair being pushed back, and then Jongseong’s voice echoes through the room. No, you think, no, no no, this can’t be happening.

The moment is over. Sunghoon’s hand falls from your grip and you watch him slip away from you for the second time. You reach after him, but you capture nothingness.

“We need a phone,” Jongseong says, “and we need it now.”

The music flowing through the speakers shut off. An unsettling chill lingers in the room and everyone’s thinking the same thing; Joon. “We need a phone,” Jongseong repeats, “any ideas?”

Looks are shared and nothing is said. Jongseong groans, “come on. Give me something to work with here!”

“My phone,” Riki says, “it’s in Mrs. Jang’s room.”

Jaeyun snorts in amusement. “Now how did that happen, Riki?”

Riki scowls. “Apparently learning English is more important than Alice in Borderland.”

“Okay, and how far away is Mrs. Jang’s room?” Jongseong asks, looking slightly more alive ever since Riki’s announcement.

“Since we’re in the debate club’s meeting room,” Sunoo thinks aloud, “the floor beneath us.”

Jongseong looks at Riki and scowls. “And you didn’t let us know any sooner? We literally walked past her room on the way here, Riki! And Joon is probably there waiting for us!”

“No one asked,” Riki answered, “so I didn’t provide.”

“You’re going to be the reason for my death, mark my words.” Jongseong’s eyes fall on you and you feel uncomfortable. “Y/N. Joon can somehow command the Zombies to do whatever he wants, can’t you do that? Y’know, considering you’re like, half Zombie-half human or some shit like that.”

It’s a weird silence you sit in after Jongseong’s remark. “I mean. . It’s cool if you can’t though,” Jongseong chuckles awkwardly. You find you quite like this situation; Jongseong awkward beneath your bland stare, it’s a situation that should happen more often.

“Speaking of,” Heeseung pipes up, “shouldn’t we talk about what happened back there?”

“What is there to speak about?” Jungwon asks, “Y/N is a Zombie. But she’s also a human.”

“Clearly,” Heeseung responds, “we should also find Y/N a shirt, but what about Joon? How he came to be. . . That, is unknown and what he said? ‘Patient zero’? Isn’t that at least a little bit concerning?”

“Obviously Joon and Suyeon were some experiment,” Sunoo says, “gone wrong. And now everyone is paying the consequence.”

“Someone was probably trying to make a superhuman,” Jaeyun jokes, his eyes sparkling, “Y/N and Joon have enhanced strength, which is super cool, and Y/N even has enhanced healing! I would suspect Joon does too, but from his appearance. . I don’t think so.”

“Superhuman,” Jongseong mutters under his breath like it was the missing piece to a puzzle.

“Boring. Let’s talk about this later,” Riki says suddenly, “it’s getting dark. Who volunteers as tribute to go and grab my phone? It has a pink sparky case and a small little Yuuji sticker on it. From Jujutsu Kaisen. I say let Y/N go. She can self-heal and can push people off her and into lockers.” Riki winces after being on the receiving end of many glares. “Too soon for jokes?”

“It’s okay, Riki,” you wave him off, too tired to involve yourself into this conversation. “Wake me up when you make your decision, I’m feeling sleepy.”

“Right, of course,” Jaeyun hums, “obviously there are side effects. You can sleep, Y/N, we’ll make sure nothing disturbs you!”

You smile at Jaeyun, thankful.

——

When you come to, it’s pitch black. The only light source is a yellow-tinged light shining on Jungwon and Sunoo who are seated together and whispering to each other. The light is sourced from a flashlight, how they acquired said flashlight is unknown.

Sunoo catches your movements and beckons you over. You shuffle over to the two boy and carefully take a seat beside Sunoo, scared to wake up the sleeping bodies lying around the room. “Sleep well? Feeling any better, Y/N?” Sunoo’s words are kind, and his gaze is kinder.

“It was a good sleep. I’m feeling much more energized.”

“That’s good,” Jungwon says, “because Sunghoon’s the one who went to search for the phone.”

You stop breathing. “What?”

“He left an hour ago and he’s not back,” Jungwon informs you, the yellow-tinged light shining on Jungwon’s face makes the boy look older than he actually is. “Heeseung always says to not think of the worst, but I’m thinking of the worst right now.”

Images of Sunghoon lying on the ground in a puddle of his own blood flash through your mind. Images of Sunghoon as a Zombie flash through your mind. Images of Sunghoon with Joon’s hands wrapped around him flash through your mind. You can’t let Sunghoon slip through your grasp for the third and final time. You need Sunghoon safe and you’ve never needed anything this desperately before.

“I’ll go find him,” you say to Jungwon, your words oddly sounding like a goodbye. And a promise.

“Y/N --” Sunoo starts.

“Sunoo,” you cut him off. “Let me do this. Let me not feel like a burden for once.”

“Okay,” Sunoo whispers, “okay.”

You rise to your feet and pad over to the door. “Y/N,” Sunoo hisses through the dark, “be safe.”

You want to laugh at Sunoo’s words. Your palm touches the cool handle of the door and you gently slide it open, cold air from the hallway rushing into the room behind you. You begin to feel uneasy and goosebumps spread across your skin as you step out of the warm classroom and into the unknown. The last thing you see as you shut the classroom door is Jongseong staring at you.

You don’t know what to expect as you slowly walk down the dark hallway that’s only illuminated by the night sky. The moon and the stars hang above you, unintentionally guiding you to where Park Sunghoon lay. Keeping your hands pressed close to your chest and your eyes focused on your surroundings, you do your best to not bring attention to yourself by any means -- one noise and it’s all over for you. You wander down a familiar hallway that has become unfamiliar and you truly begin to question how this all happened; how easily your hometown succumbed to a Zombie apocalypse.

A loud bang shakes you out of your thoughts. It came from inside the classroom next to you and terror floods your senses. You hold your hands tighter against your chest and try to even out your breathing. There’s another bang and you quickly stride past the classroom, making your footfalls as quiet as possible.

Everything felt so off; not a single Zombie roaming down the hallway you were in, not a single Zombie chasing you down -- you were expecting the worst would come when you find Sunghoon. Your heart races at the thought of something bad happening to Sunghoon. You don’t want anything bad to happen to Sunghoon, he’s the only good thing you have left in your life right now.

You pad down the steps and enter the hallway Riki’s phone was supposed to be on. Here, you finally see the Zombies you were looking for. A sudden cold chill lays itself over your skin as you dare to enter the hallway crowded with Zombies.

Even though you know you shouldn’t, you hold your breath as you maneuver around the Zombies in complete silence. Sometimes, they let out random groans and it frightens you, but you keep your terrified shrieks contained within you. One single noise and you’re a goner.

You reach Ms. Jang’s office and a Zombie is blocking the door. Inhaling quietly, you step around the Zombie and reach for the cold silver doorknob. As you twist the doorknob it makes a shrill sound and you halt, not daring to move another inch. The Zombie right next to you lets out a groan and steps closer to you, their arm brushing yours and suddenly they’re latching onto your arm.

You can’t help it and cry out, ripping yourself out of the Zombie’s grasp and throwing yourself at the door. Growls fill the air and the Zombie in front of you begins to sniff, seeking out a smell. You could smell the death on the Zombie and begin to pray that this isn’t how your life ends -- you don’t want to be a Zombie because what happens then? You become Zombie and then what? Where does your soul go? Your conscious?

A tear trails down your cheek and the Zombie is stepping away, wandering back down the hallway and leaving you pressing up against the door, your hand curled around the doorknob. Without hesitation, you open the door and jump inside, letting the door shut gently behind you.

The first thing you see is Park Sunghoon lying on the ground, unresponsive -- but breathing. Immediately, you drop to your knees and shake the boy, “Sunghoon,” you whisper, not liking the odds of this situation. There’s a cut on his temple that’s bleeding. “Fuck sake. Sunghoon!” Your shaking gets more aggressive as each second passes and Sunghoon doesn’t shoot up, gasping for breath.

Desperate times call for desperate measures so you slap Sunghoon. You weren’t sure what you were expecting to get out of this action, but it certainly wakes Sunghoon up. His eyes fly open and his hand comes up to clutch his cheek. Scrambling to sit up, Sunghoon looks at you with wide eyes. “Did you just slap me?”

“What? Was I supposed to kiss you awake?”

It’s silent for a moment. “I mean. I wouldn’t have been opposed to a kiss, Y/N.”

You glare at Sunghoon and slap his bicep. “You are such an idiot! Why were you unconscious? And why are you bleeding? Sunghoon, what happened? We were -- I was worried.”

“Y/N, you -- you were worried?” Sunghoon asks, a little breathless.

You scowl and slap Sunghoon’s bicep again. “Are you even listening to me? What happened?”

“I got scared and fell over, hitting my head on the way down,” Sunghoon explains sheepishly. “I did dream of you saving me though, Y/N.”

“Dork. You’re a fucking clumsy dork, did you know that, Sunghoon?”

“A dork for you,” grins Sunghoon and you push him away, falling onto your bum and feeling hot, taken aback from Sunghoon’s sudden flirty nature.

“Consider us even, then,” you say, “you saved me and now I’m here to save you.”

Sunghoon’s smile is soft, a small dimple peeking in the curve of his cheek. “I have Riki’s phone, though, you ready to go?”

“What about your temple?” You gesture to Sunghoon’s head, “you’re bleeding, Sunghoon.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N, we’ll patch it up later. I don’t know about you, but I still feel uneasy being by ourselves and separated from the group. It’s better we get back quickly before Joon sniffs us out.”

You hum and stand up, holding out your hand for Sunghoon to take. His hand is warm in yours and you ignore the gentle squeeze he gives your hand as you pull open the door slowly. “Remember, be quiet,” you whisper to Sunghoon.

“Of course, Y/N.”

You both step out into the darkness.

The sight that awaits you both is unexpected. Suyeon’s body is sprawled out in the middle of the hallway, her eyes falling out of their sockets and her head smashed in. You immediately avert your eyes as your stomach lurches.

“Oh shit,” Sunghoon hisses, “her throat was slit. Gross. Do you think it was Joon who did this?” Sunghoon’s question is answered soon enough as Ahn Yujin steps out of the shadows, her black hair falling across her shoulders angellically, and bloody covering her hands and splattered across her face. In one of her bloodied hands, she holds a knife. “Oh shit,” Sunghoon repeats, but this time more terrified.

No words are spoken as Yujin charges towards you and as you push Sunghoon away. You weren’t going to let someone else die because of you. You willingly let Yujin’s knife enter your body as she flings her body into yours. You crash into a wall behind you and you hiss in pain, which turns into a bloody cough.

“Y/N!” Sunghoon calls out, but you ignore him.

“Yujin,” you croak, seeing humanity left in her eyes, “Yujin. Don’t do this.” You already know the stab wound is futile, you could feel your wound healing around the knife still stuck in your body. It’s a weird sensation, one you can’t describe.

Yujin twists the knife and you cry out, your hand reaching for Yujin’s hair you tug hard, momentarily taking the girl off guard. You push her away and rip the knife out of your stomach, blood splattering the ground and you hear Sunghoon gasp.

Yujin growls and charges again. You muster up all the strength you have and backhand her, flinging Yujin into the wall. There’s a loud crack and Yujin slumps to the ground, blood trailing down the wall to her slumped figure, her head hanging.

You reach for Sunghoon’s hand again. “Let’s go.” Sunghoon doesn’t hesitate and you both fly down the hallway, not caring if you were loud enough for the Zombies to find you.

—-

To stay the other’s were surprised that you didn’t come back with just Sunghoon and Riki’s phone would be an understatement. The bloodied knife was handed off to Heeseung, and Jungwon had simply sighed, shaking his head. “We really need to get you a new top, Y/N,” Jongseong says, “maybe like a whole pack because you like ruining clothes, don’t you?”

“It’s not like I chose to be stabbed,” you huff bitterly.

In the midst of all of this, Riki falls to his knees and cries out. Instantly, you all fear the worst. “What? What happened, Riki?” Jaeyun asks, his eyes wide and his hand coming to pet Riki’s head. “Is everything okay?”

“My Yuuji sticker!” Riki cries, “it’s not here!”

Sunoo mimics strangling the boy with wild gestures and Sunghoon snorts. “That sucks, but we got a phone for a reason. Don’t let me going unconscious for a few minutes and Y/N getting stabbed by some psycho girl to all go to vain.”

“It wasn’t a few minutes, Sunghoon!” You exclaim, whacking the boy again, “it was an hour!”

“It felt like minutes to me,” Sunghoon shrugs, “though I would love to wake up to your face more often.” The silence that follows after that declaration is awkward.

“Right,” Jungwon says, ripping Riki’s phone out of the crying boy’s hands. “Let’s see what the internet is saying, shall well?” A few seconds later Jungwon is groaning, “why is everything in Japanese? Jongseong? A little help?”

“But it’s Riki’s --” Jongseong cuts himself off as he looks at the unresponsive, crying boy curled up on the ground and Jaeyun hovering beside him awkwardly. “Right.”

“Well?” Sunoo says after a few seconds of silence, “what does it say?”

“It’s loading, Sunoo, patience,” Jongseong snaps, glaring at the younger.

“Old people are so slow,” Sunoo moans.

“You brat --”

“Translate for us, Jongseong,” Jungwon cuts off the older boy, thrusting the phone into his grasp.

Jongseong’s eyes trail over the phone screen in front of him. “Well, the electricity and power and phone service is getting cut off in twenty-one hours.” A heavy silence settles over the group, “so, that means we’ll have no contact to the outside world in twenty-one hours.”

“Well that fucking sucks,” Sunghoon mumbles from next to you.

“Hurry up then, Jongseong,” Sunoo rushes, “see who is still alive. And where the nearest quarantine zone is. I want to get out of here and see my family!”

“Alright, alright,” Jongseong sighs, “get comfortable, it’s going to be a long night. Did you happen to bring a charger with you, Sunghoon? Y/N?”

The two of you share a look. “Uh. . We were supposed to?” Sunghoon replies.

“Airhead. We have two fucking airheads in this group,” Jongseong grumbles and Jungwon comforts him with a look of amusement.

Ignoring Jongseong, you take Sunghoon’s hand into yours again. “Let’s get you patch up, dork, where’s the first aid kit again, Heeseung?” After Heeseung points you in the direction of the first aid kit, and you settle onto the floor a bit away from the group with Sunghoon, you get to work on cleaning up the cut to Sunghoon’s temple.

“How clumsy are you, Sunghoon?” You mutter, slightly amused. “How were you able to hit your head that hard?”

“I get scared easily!” Sunghoon defends himself, pouting slightly. “You would too! Being all alone, surrounded by Zombies and with the threat of a murdererous weird Zombie-person running around hanging over your head!”

You snort and shake your head, tilting Sunghoon’s head to the side slightly. “But,” Sunghoon continues, his voice more softer. “Thank you. For saving me. Twice. The slap wasn’t nice, though.”

“I was desperate, okay,” You say, scowling, “and worried. And concerned -- you weren’t waking up, Sunghoon.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize Sunghoon. This might hurt.”

Sunghoon hisses and you send him a smile in apology. “You care about me, Y/N?”

“Of course I do,” you mutter, “you are all I have left. And the others.”

“But mostly me?” Sunghoon smiles a cheeky smile and you scowl, purposefully pushing down on his cut harder.

“Don’t push it, Park.”

Sunghoon reaches up and pinches your waist, making your yelp in surprise. “Sunghoon! I’m cleaning your wound! Don’t make me make it worse on purpose!”

Sunghoon laughs. It’s the laugh you’ve been dying to hear ever since you were fourteen. His smile is wide across his and his eyes crinkle up. He really shines like a star in moments like these. You can’t help but smile, it’s all soft and fond, and love is what makes your smile curve wider. He’s a star that’s shining for you.

“I like it when you laugh, Sunghoon,” you blurt.

Sunghoon holds eye contact with you for what feels like the longest time. “I like it when you smile, Y/N. And I like it when you get so focused your tongue pokes out of your mouth. And I like it when you blow your hair out of your face. And I like your eyes, especially when you’re laughing and I -- I just like you, Y/N.” Hesitancy spreads across Sunghoon’s face and he averts his eyes, cheeks turning a soft red. “I know this is all sudden but -- but you’re not a burden, Y/N, and I hope you don’t think of yourself as one. I care about you, Y/N, and I want you with me, Y/N, that what I wanted to say that night in the recording booth. If I didn’t want you with me, then I wouldn’t have pulled you away when I did.”

The cold, jarring truth strikes you. Sunghoon could’ve left you to die, but he didn’t.

“I want you with me, Y/N, all the time,” Sunghoon admits, more certain of himself now. “So, thank you. For saving me. For patching me up. For being with me.”

“How could I not?” You respond, shaking your head and laughing breathlessly, “you’re all I think about.”

“Y/N --”

“I wasn’t joking when I said you were all I had left. Seeun’s a Zombie and my mother probably is too.” Your voice quivers and you sniff, Sunghoon’s stare getting too intimate for you, so you glance at a spot over his shoulder. “Please don’t leave me either, because I don’t plan on leaving you.”

“Y/N,” Sunghoon whispers, “why would I ever leave you?”

That’s all it takes for you to dissolve into a sea of tears. Sunghoon wraps you up into his arms and holds you close to his chest, his hand gliding through your hair, over the nape of your neck, and down your back.

“Y/N,” Sunghoon cups your chin and tilts your head up, wiping your tears away, his eyes soothe you. “I know this might be a bad time, but there’s nothing better than the present. Can I kiss you? I’ve always wanted to kiss you, did you know that?”

Your heart skips a beat. All the air is knocked out of your lungs. Sunghoon is a star. He’s unbelievable. He makes wishes ceom true. “Sunghoon,” you whisper, “you don’t even have to ask.”

Sunghoon kisses you and the world explodes. His lips are warm. Everything about Sunghoon is warm. He makes you feel warm. He makes you feel special. Sunghoon makes you feel less alone. Sunghoon settles you onto his lap, an arm slipping around your waist while the other cradles the back of your head. He keeps you close to his chest as your mouths move.

Maybe suriving the apocalypse is worth it since it brought you to the exact moment; Sunghoon kissing you.

“Wait,” Sunghoon’s pulling away, sounding breathless, “you like me too, right?”

You giggle. “I like you too, dork,” and you pull him back in for a kiss.

—-

Having a phone works wonders. Jongseong finds out where the nearest quarantine zone is, and he finds out that the apocalypse has spread throughout your small province. Jongseong also found out damning news; in forty eight hours, the school and everything around it would be blown up by bombs dropped from the skies above.

“We need to move quickly,” Jungwon addresses the group. “Today, we need to leave the school and get to the forest. From there, we’ll hopefully have some cover, and be able to reach the zone a couple hours before the bombs are expected to drop, but we have to move quickly.”

“I will move the quickest out of anyone in the group,” Sunoo proclaims confidently. “I want to get out of this hell hole.”

So with the first rays of sunlight peeking through, you and the seven boys move out of the classroom, a backpack strapped to Heeseung and Jungwon’s backs full of enough food and water to make the eight of you last the two day journey.

“At the first sign of Joon, just run,” Heeseung tells the group gravely, “we don’t have time to engage with him. He’ll be blown up shortly anyway.”

As you pass through the hallway where you were stabbed by Yujin, your hand in Sunghoon’s warm embrace, you find her body missing. You share a glance with Sunghoon but neither of you point it out the rest of the group, not wanting to unsettle the happy mood everyone was in today.

Today was full of luck. Everyone was silent and you were all able to easily slip past Zombies. The knife you hold in your free hand didn’t need to be used. Your new t-shirt was bright white and clear of blood. It made you feel good, feeling slightly clean.

You reach the school gym in no time, finding it clear of all Zombies. There, you decide to take a rest, and Jungwon decides to call Kang Taehyun. The dialing tone rings throughout the gym and it’s picked up seconds before the last dial tone rings.

“Riki?” Taehyun asks in disbelief.

“Taehyun,” Jungwon cries out, tears welling in his eyes. “You’re okay.”

“Won,” Taehyun repeats, still in disbelief. “You’re okay? Oh my god, what about the other’s --” a loud clamor takes over Taehyun’s side of the phone. You hear the familiar voices of Yeonjun, and Soobin, and Beomgyu, and Kai. The boys on Jungwon’s side of the phone all crowd around the phone and everything is a mess. (A happy mess, you think.)

After the phone call ends with promises of seeing enach other soon, Jungwon looks over at you. “Y/N? Do you have anyone to call?”

You smile and shake your head. “I have no one, Jungwon.”

“Oh, sorry I asked,” Jungwon seems a little embarrassed and you laugh him off with a wave of your hand.

“It’s okay. Thank you for asking, though.”

“You have us, Y/N,” Sunoo says with a smile. “You’ll always have us, now. Our bond is thicker than blood!”

You laugh, “thank you, Sunoo. I’m glad I have you.”

—-

It rains that night. It pours, but Jungwon doesn’t let up. Loud thunder booms through the sky and the lightning lights up the darkness. You continue to creep around the Zombies in silence, the storm masking any loud noise you make. The storm was a blessing in disguise.

You had entered the forest a few hours ago but none of you had wanted to stop, especially as it began to rain. You all wanted to reach the quarantine zone desperately, already tired from all the running and surviving you had been doing.

Sunghoon squeezes your hand. “Are you doing okay, Y/N?” His voice was close to your ear.

You squeeze back. “Yeah!” You shout over the storm, and that’s when you somehow catch a glimpse of it. A white ribbon. Your breathe stutters and you stumble over, Sunghoon keeping you upright. “Seeun,” you breathe. She moves carelessly through the forest, stumbling over like many of the Zombies you had seen do before. You face the truth you had subconsciously been denying this whole time; Seeun’s a Zombie.

Slipping out of Sunghoon’s grasp and ignoring everyone’s loud calls, you walk over to Seeun. You need to see her one last time. You need to say your apologies one last time, and if you die trying, then so be it. You reach within an arms length distance of Seeun and watch her stumble about quietly. “I’m sorry,” you shout over the storm. “I’m sorry, Seeun.”

She turns towards you and snarls, stumbling forward and stopping in front of you. She copies the movements of the Zombie who you stood face-to-face with in front of Ms. Jang’s office. She sniffs the surrounding area of your body, and then turns away. She lets you live, like that other Zombie did.

Turning back around, your eyes meet Sunghoon’s and the sympathy he holds make tears slip down your cheeks. No one says anything when you return to the group and stick yourself to Sunghoon’s side.

The further you all went into the city you grew up in, the further reality sinks in. Zombies fill every nook and cranny, and the loneliness of the city makes your skin crawl. You all push on, and your eventually have to begin to hide and use your knife as the Zombies become more ruthless and pick up on every small sound.

You grow tired, but you still push on. With Sunghoon beside you, holding you and keeping you safe every step of the way provides you with the strength and energy to push on.

“Would you believe me if I said I was looking for you that day, Y/N?” Sunghoon asks during one of your short breaks, his finger twirling your hair.

“I don’t know. Were you?” You respond, smiling.

“Well. I was looking for any sign of an adult, and also for weapons, but when I saw you, Y/N, all I thought about was keeping you alive and safe.”

You melt against Sunghoon, your head resting on his shoulder. “I like you a lot, Sunghoon,” you whisper, “and maybe if we weren’t in a situation like this, we could be going on a date right now.”

“What kind of date?” Sunghoon asks, oddly interested.

“We’d go ice skating,” you say, “because you’re good at ice skating and I’m shit. You would help me skate, and we’d hold hands, and then we’d go eat something warm and spicy. You’ll make me laugh, and I’ll make you laugh, then you’ll take me home and kiss me goodnight.”

Sunghoon kisses you temple. He doesn’t say anything and you just bask in the silence and the warmth of Sunghoon. “That’s if either of us confessed,” Sunghoon says, “because I don’t think I would’ve ever confessed.”

“Me either,” you admit. “You felt so out of my league, and I never had your attention, so the thought of confessing frightened me.”

Sunghoon laughs and you peer up at him, perplexed. “What’s so funny?”

“You always had my attention, Y/N,” Sunghoon says, and he kisses you.

—-

You reach the quarantine zone and you’re met with guns pointed at you. With your hands raised, you all shuffle into a line and are being tested with a thermometer device. It’s raining again and you shiver, missing the warmth of Sunghoon’s hand holding yours.

“What are you doing?” Jongseong asks the soldier.

“A colder temperature means you’re a Zombie,” the soldier informs Jongseong.

“But what if someone is sick?” Jongseong asks, “then what if you’re leaving someone out to die?”

The soldier smiles, but it isn’t a nice smile. “Would you like me to show you what happens when this thing identifies a Zombie, and then what we do after?”

Jongseong’s immediately shaking his head.

Sunghoon’s herded into the zone before you, and the smile he sends you is a sweet one. It calms you down as only thoughts of Joon’s words fill your head. You hope you’re able to pass this test. You hope you’re able to live a relatively normal with Sunghoon by your side.

But, luck runs out at some point.

A high pitched squealng sound emits from the thermometer device and the world shifts and everything happens at once.

“She’s a Zombie!” The soldier yells, raising his gun and pointing it at you.

“Y/N!” Sunghoon shouts, running to you, his arms wrapping you up as more soldiers swarm the area. “Y/N, everything will be okay, the device probably made a mistake, they just need to do it again --”

“Sunghoon.” You cut him off.

“No,” he says, “I can’t lose you, Y/N, you said you wouldn’t leave me.”

“I don’t want to leave you, Sunghoon,” you admit, “but I have to.”

“How are you so calm about this?” Sunghoon asks, his voice low, “I feel so desperate, Y/N, I feel desperate enough to kill --”

“I was expecting the worst, Hoon.”

Sunghoon stares at you. There are so many emotions flooding his face, your stomach churns. Suddenly, he’s ripped away from you and he struggles, calling out your name. “Y/N! I love you! I love you, and I’d save you again. I’d save you again and again if I had the choice.”

You did your best to keep your tears at bay. You couldn’t have them falling over now. You couldn’t cry. You had to remain strong, even with a gun pointed at your head.

Sunghoon breaks free from the soldier’s grasp and flings himself into your embrace again, clutching you close.

The rain falls harder, soaking you both to the bone.

“Y/N, I love you,” he kisses you so passionately and desperately it makes your heart break. “And I’ll come for you. I’ll find you, Y/N, I promise. I promise that once I find you, I’ll take you ice skating and catch you every time you fall.”

“Of course you will,” you laugh as the tears begin to fall. “You’ll always catch me, no matter what, Hoon.”

“And we’ll be the happiest people on earth, Y/N.”

“Of course we will, Hoon,” you say softly, cupping Sunghoon’s face, “you will always make me the happiest.”

Sunghoon’s ripped away from you and you instantly shiver, the cold overwhelming you. “I’ll find you, Y/N!” Sunghoon shouts, his words tearing your heart apart. “I promise I will!”

You watch as Sunghoon and the rest of the six boys are pulled away from view. You refuse to look at the others because it’ll only break your heart more.

A gun is pointed at your head.

You close your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper to whoever is listening. “Please forgive me.”

author’s note, well that was wild and crazy and goofy and im sorry if the pacing seems rushed but i wrote most of this at 1/2/3am when i was tired and sad and completely delusional. there are lots of unanswered plot points like omg what happened to joon?? and suyeon?? and yujin?? why was she so crazy🤣🤣 and how did the infection start?? and did y/n really die?? and i left some of those points unanswered in case i ever decide to write a part two in the future..Gasp😨😨 anyway. i hope u enjoyed reading this mess. i hope u love it😆😆

#stars will fall #enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #park sunghoon #sunghoon #sunghoon angst #sunghoon fluff #zombie apocalypse au #apocalypse au #enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen au

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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months

Note

Hey so uhh, it said requests are open so I'm gonna shoot my shot ig. I have this fic idea but I'm a shit writer so here it goes.

Alastor x reader but the concept is that the reader is Alastor's shadow.

Now, hear me out: Alastor is said to be a powerful demon since his manifestation in hell, we know that it takes demons quite some time to accumulate their power before they become overlords.

If "The Radio demon" was an alias was that operated between more that one person, then it would make sense as to why and how he rose to the top very quickly (assuming we ignore the fact he made a deal with someone).

That and Alastor's black appendages and shadows seem out of theme for a demon who's primary power is based on Radio.

As for how they met, it could go two ways. Either with Alastor, a man hungry for power, strikes his first deal with Shadow!Reader to get them to do his bidding. Or Shadow!Reader offering Alastor their services after realizing that he has a lot of potential. Either way, their partnership blooms into a sort of kinship between the two of them.

Do with this concept whatever you want with it, I just wanna get this concept out in the world in the hands of someone much more capable of writing than I am.

Enjoy!

A/N please always shoot your shot. this is such a fun idea,, thank you so much for entrusting it to me. I've decided just to write their meeting for now but may continue it later on. I hope you like it!!

The Thing (Alastor x Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Mention of cannibalism and the Donner party. I think that is it.

Word Count: 1,752

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

There was a secret, one that no one knew, one that would tear the demon realm apart at its edges if anyone found out. The illusive Radio Demon and his shadow were, in fact, just that: the illusive Radio Demon and his shadow.

Y/n was master of the immaterial, shifting forms and shedding skins the way others change their clothes. When Alastor arrived in Hell, they had long since been established as one of the many demons to be aware of.

Rumor runs rampant everywhere but especially in Hell where in controls, combines, and divides. Y/n was just that, a rumor. Never the same face twice, never in the same place twice. No one even knew their name, simply referring to them as the thing or the hunger. They snatched sinner's souls from their grasps and devoured them whole. An urban legend, a ghost story only here, all the ghosts were real.

Alastor was as observant in death as he had been in life, it didn't take him long to catch sight of the shadow. Though he had only been in Hell a few days when it had first appeared, he could tell it had nefarious intent.

The thing was a good actor, almost good enough to fool him. It lay in the reality of his own shadow, following his moves perfectly. However, no one is perfect and every once in a while, there would be a little slip. The first one which had caught Alastor's attention was when he had taken a step forward and it had gone the wrong way, quickly righting itself and following after the mistake.

Alastor pretended not to have noticed, but he remembered. He lay in wait for another such occurrence. It was not until two days later, when his shadow gave him four hands rather than two with no apparent explanation such as an odd angle to the sun or another body near him, that his thesis was confirmed. There was, in fact, something following him.

It stuck like glue to the heels of his shoes. Alastor was quiet, Alastor schemed. He had trapped it in a pure white room which he had fixed lightbulbs in from all sides. When he had turned on the lights, he had turned on them, arms crossed and foot tapping expectantly.

The shadow had looked this way and that, searching for a place to hide. When they realized it was no use, they had pulled themselves from the floor into three dimensions and faced him head on.

"Who are you?" Alastor had asked before quickly reevaluating his question, "What are you?"

It moved like liquid in the air, twisting and dissolving at its edges. Bubbles, or what was almost bubbles, what looked like bubbles, rose to the surface of it's body and as they popped, a demon began to take the shadow's place.

"I am everything."

They were many voiced. When they spoke, it sounded like a crowd of people saying the same thing in unison. Alastor stared at the demon, unamused. They were a full person now, about a head shorter than him and seemingly very calm considering he had them trapped. Then again, Alastor had only been in Hell a few weeks by this point, not nearly enough time to work up the sort of reputation he was hoping for.

"Is that a bad pickup line?" Alastor asked, "Am I supposed to ask what you mean and you'll say something like 'I could be everything to you?'"

The demon raised their eyebrows, shaking their head.

"It is the truth."

A tense silence fell between the pair. Alastor broke it with a sigh, rubbing his temples in irritation. He hadn't really known what to expect from this endeavor save an event to break up the monotony of his days. The demon was not delivering.

"Yeah, alright."

"Who are you?"

"You've been following me for what, two weeks? And you don't know?"

The demon shrugged.

"I was trying to be polite. It has been a while since I have spoken to anyone."

"Sure. Well," Alastor turned to the door, pulling a skeleton key from his pocket, "this has been interesting. Enjoy eternity alone in a well lit room."

Alastor opened the door. The demon made no move to follow him out of the room, no move to escape. They simply watched him in curiosity, their head tilted slightly to one side. Alastor hesitated, his body blocking the exit and his back towards them. He watched them over his shoulder as a thin black smoke seemed to emanate from the outline of their body.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

An empty threat, barley even a threat to be honest. Alastor stepped out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Once he was sure it was locked, he slipped the key back into his pocket. He made to leave, intending to go out on the town in a desperate attempt to find entertainment. Barley two steps forward, and shadows began to pool on the floor before his feet, blocking Alastor's path.

He watched in a mild interest as the demon pulled themselves from the shadows, taking on a different face than they had worn in the room. Now they were broader, taller, stronger. They looked mean.

"I told you."

"Is this what you meant when you said you were everything?"

The demon nodded once. Their wide eyes were unblinking, unchanging, as their form mutated again. A spider demon now with many arms and a lanky figure. Alastor raised his eyebrows.

"So, you let me catch you."

"I was bored. No one ever notices me until it is too late, except you."

"I find that hard to believe. You were easy to spot."

The demon's eyes widened slightly at this, something similar to surprise but halfway to fear.

"Like I said, Alastor the interesting." they mused after a moment.

Alastor bowed his head slightly in recognition of the title.

"I could take your soul, destroy you. Why were you so willing to risk all that? Surely a bit of entertainment can't be worth that much to you."

He was trying to get a gage on the creature, and he knew they could tell. It was a mild threat, one he couldn't follow through on even if he wanted to. Sure, he could maim the creature, cause it great pain, but beyond leaving them formless for a few days tops he was powerless. He knew that, but he didn't know if they did. Either way, the situation would play out to his advantage. It would either give him more information, or the upper hand.

They considered the situation for a moment before answering. Alastor couldn't figure out if it was because of their interest in him, for fear of him, or some third, other undefined motivation. No matter what it was, he didn't care. This was the most engaged he had felt in weeks.

"You aren't an overlord. You can't make a contract."

"And you are?"

"No."

"Too weak?" Alastor teased and the demon glared at him.

"Far from it. I don't like being seen."

"But you're letting me see you."

"I am allowing you to see a face. It is not mine."

Alastor fell silent. He had figured that the demon before him didn't have a true form, or if they did, that it was shadow. Things were becoming curiouser by the second. He was no longer regarding his attempts to trap the demon as a waste of time.

"So, you want power but anonymity. Those things don't go hand in hand."

"I know. You want fame and lack the power. Another unmatched set."

Alastor's ear twitched at that, displeasure running through his veins and clouding his sight. His hand tightened where he held his microphone.

"I have power enough."

"What use is a Radio Demon with nothing to broadcast?"

"Are you suggesting a deal?"

The demon smiled a smile that was too big for the face it wore. Alastor had to admit, they were unsettling. He understood the rumors.

"I've heard of your... reputation shall we say? But if you think I will trust someone who's face I have never even seen, you are dead wrong."

"Was that a joke?" the demon tentatively asked after a moment.

"Not on purpose but I supose so."

The thing seemed to roll the idea over in their mind as their form changed once again, this time becoming a demon with the body of a shark. They seemed not even to notice they were changing as their eyes flicked back to Alastor's.

"You want information. Then you will be open to the idea of a partnership."

"This was your goal all along, a partnership as you put it."

A statement, not a question. The demon smiled, their eyebrows slightly raised.

"Oh, was it now. At least I had an end goal to this little... situation."

Alastor scoffed, looking away. They were right. He had come up with no ideas past capturing the thing that had been following him. He was in the dark. They had everything figured out.

"Show me your real face. Then we can talk."

"Alastor Hartifelt. Died 1933. Louisiana famed radio host and serial killer cut down in his prime by a hunter who mistook him for a deer."

"Are you trying to intimidate me?"

"Not at all."

The demon shifted once again. It took them longer to find form this time, remaining as a black cloud for a few moments before at last settling on an almost human body. They were shorter than he had expected, smaller too and decked out in what seemed to be colonial dress. They held a hand out to him.

"Y/n L/n. Died 1846. Newly wed and member of the Donner party."

"Cannibalism." Alastor mused, gently taking their hand in his.

He had expected them to be cold, immaterial. He had expected his hand to slide right through theirs. Instead, the demon, Y/n, was warm and solid to the touch, just like anyone else. They smiled, mouth full of needles.

"We all take what we are given."

"I suppose."

Y/n dropped his hand and crossed their arms. Despite their stature, they radiated authority and poise. It was almost impressive.

"If you will be the face, I will be the force."

"No soul binding."

"I couldn't if I wanted to. Not an overlord."

Alastor looked them up and down. His smile grew.

"Not an overlord yet."

----

tags:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0

#hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x gn!reader #gn reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns #they/them reader #alastor x reader #the radio demon x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x gn reader

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helluvapoison · 3 months

Note

Hi! I feel a little awkward bc I’ve never asked anonymously but I really wanted to ask this but wasn’t comfortable enough to ask regularly, but I really enjoy your hazbin works and the hyperfixation has been gripping me HARD and I wanted to see what you’d think of a Lucifer x Reader where they have a sort of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts vibes, where Reader is his personal assistant and what your thought on that are?

~✨

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

i put my thoughts at the bottom :3c

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• As his colleague, Lucifer is rather frustrating. He hired you as his personal assistant but won’t let you assist

• In the beginning, the most he’ll ask of you is if you know where something is. The answer is usually in his hand or line of sight. Without making him feel dumb, you simply retrieve it for him

• It doesn’t go unnoticed by Lucifer either. He praises you often and in the form of a soft, “What would I do without you?”

• “I’m sure I don’t want to find out, Mr Morningstar.”

• Maybe it takes a minute for the initial “I’m working for the King of Hell” shock to wear off and when it does you realize it was clouding your judgment. Lucifer truly does require your help but he’s incapable of asking for what he needs; it’s up to you to step in and make necessary decisions on his behalf

• That’s what he’s paying you for, right?

• You tell him exactly what’s going to happen before you do it so he’s not caught off guard. He still is. Baffled, really, that you got so ballsy overnight

• Let the banter and boundary pushing begin. Nothing major! You just keep to your word, continuing your courageous streak

• Plucking all the sticky notes off the wall and collecting the ones that were so old they dropped to the floor, you spend an entire day sorting through them. You give his schedule a must needed update and sync it to both your phones so either of you could make changes and be alerted to it

“Why do I need your play-by-play?” He asks teasingly

“So you don’t call me at 4am because you forget I’m not here. Y’know, like last time.”

• Oh yeah, personal space and boundaries cease to exist between you. He’ll sit right next to you, or pull your chair closer to his. When he’s bored, he’ll sit right on your desk

• When he brings you to meetings, which is always because you’re supposed to be focusing on his behalf, he leans in and makes jokes that have you pressing your lips together to be quiet

• “I need to take notes,”

• “And you’re doing great, now jot down how Asmodeus’ shirt is on backwards,” He snickers

• Texting outside your shifts is a regular occurrence. Messages sent back and forth until it’s beyond sleeping hours and you tell him to go to bed

• “See you in 3 hours.” He texts back like he’s counting down (he is)

• Miraculously, you covered all corners of his (rather empty) mansion. Nothing was off limits to you except Charlie’s old room. You made sure dishes left his room or office and made it to the kitchen, checks for the house staff went out on time, supplies were stocked, etc.

• You take paperwork off his desk, screen and divert miscellaneous calls to your phone instead of his, overall taking unnecessary weight from his shoulders. You go as far as to pencil in mealtimes. It’s appreciated even though he’d still forget if you weren’t around

• “I’m beginning to suspect you’re underpaid,” Lucifer partially jokes

• You’re really, really not

• Sure, he spouts his stream of consciousness and it’s up for you to decipher what’s important and what’s just him sharing random details. Yes, he has you sit on his chair while he gestures wildly and explains the mechanics of something you don’t understand just because he’s excited about it. And yes, maybe, you spend too much time in his house than your own

• But you’re disgustingly overcompensated. You thought he made a mistake when you saw your paycheck. If not by actual money, Lucifer spoils you rotten in ways he definitely shouldn’t and doesn’t for his other employees

• “You deserve it for putting up with me,” His voice is laced with more adoration than acceptable, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

• You haven’t been doing it for the money in a long time

• The two of you have been teetering over the line of professional and inappropriate, praying, begging really, to fall on the side of the latter

• You almost kill him when you say you want to quit. Lucifer’s ready to offer you Hell on a golden platter if you’ll stay

• “It’s not about the money. I-I can’t do this anymore, I feel like a gold digger and I hate it! I don’t want to be your assistant, I want more and I–”

• Lucifer heard more and is struck with the overwhelming urge to kiss you

• “How much more?” He asks instead, voice cracking in anticipation, “If it’s in my power, it’s yours for the taking.”

• “Mr Morning—“

• “You want more? I can give you more. I can give you everything, anything, just tell me what you want. I know I’m a mess but I can be better! I can— I can,” Lucifer scrambles to find something, his wild eyes searching the air between you for anything you haven’t already done for him. He sighs, “I can be better, I promise…”

• “Because I want more too. I want to take you on cheesy dates, I want to have you beside me everywhere I go, I want all of Hell to know you’re mine. I want you to come here and stay here because you want to!” He wheezes and tugs at his collar, “And now I feel like want isn’t a word anymore because I’ve been saying it too much— do you ever do that? You say it over and over again and it starts to.. to…”

• He stares at your hand, placed softly over his to stop him from clutching at his clothes. Oh fuck, he can’t breathe

• “You’re really working for that pride title, aren’t you?” You tease softly, smoothing out the wrinkles in his vest before stealing his other hand, “Tell me more about what you want, Mr—“

• “Lucifer,” He all but begs

• “Lucifer,” You hum and he shivers, “What else?”

• “Don’t leave me,” He breathes, “I’ll be better.”

• “You’re already enough.”

• Painfully aware of how close the two of you have become, Lucifer struggles to keep your eyes locked with his. Your lips look so enticing, they always have

• His voice is quiet, almost broken, when he says, “I—I need you to say it.”

• “I won’t leave you. I’m still quitting though,” You smile, hovering over his lips, “So you’ll have to find a different way to compensate me.”

• “Pfft. Easy peasy,”

• He says nonchalantly as if he hasn’t tripped over nothing imagining your lips on his before. It’s nothing compared to the real thing

• Once again, you’re overcompensated

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ hello hi ✨! you’re getting a kith, c’mere. I absolutely see the vibes you’re going for and I am here for it!

i think tony and pepper are hilarious and adorable but i recognise it isn’t the healthiest of relationships out there. i know that’s not what you were implying at all though! the flirting, the bizarre requests, the shameless spending, the nonstop talking, the nonexistent boundaries, the devotion– yes, i see it i see it i see it!

i don’t think lucifer would raise his voice (not to you, anyways) you could get away with actual murder and that’s before he realizes his feelings for you. he can get rid of a body easily

lucifer may (like tony) forget the day of important dates but when he realizes, he makes up for it completely! he feels awful about it

if you look at something for 3 seconds too long, he’s buying it. if you show him something, he’s buying it. if he thinks you want it, he’s buying it

(like pepper) you definitely do put up with a lot of similar antics behind them though are good intentions and lucifer’s better at accepting fault. so if they genuinely upset you, he’ll find a way to mend it... usually it goes over the top

there’s really nothing lucifer wouldn’t do for you, it just takes some reminding that you’d do the same for him

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar headcanon #lucifer morningstar imagine #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #ask stuff #ask me anything

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ovaryacted · 10 months

Text

Insoportable

Summary: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader. Miguel couldn’t stand you, the more you refused to listen to him and his orders, the closer he got to snapping. After another failed mission, he’s had enough, and takes it upon himself to put you in your place.

Warnings: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Porn with plot. Dom/sub elements, throat/face fucking, degradation & praise, slight size kink, slight choking, rough sex, bare backing, mention of fluids.

WC: 5.2k

A/N: Took me a while to write this but I hope it’s enjoyable. Originally was an enemies to lovers plot but it’s more of a passionate stress relief type thing, I’ll do actual enemies to lovers/hate sex another time. For the record, I speak Spanish, so the Spanish you see in this piece is how I’d personally speak. Title is also in Spanish lolz. :)

You were insufferable, a nuisance every time you walked in the room or were in close proximity to Miguel. A firecracker that hated following orders or being told what to do. He didn’t even know how you managed to last this long as a spider-person or why you were chosen to become one since you behaved so recklessly. In his mind, you were a hazard to have on his elite strike force, but Jess was the one that convinced him you would be a good addition to the team. That was a few months ago, and he continues to figure out whether or not having you around was a good or bad thing. So far, it was definitely leaning towards bad.

You never listened to him, often going off on your own on missions or making small mistakes that would throw him off. It was almost as if you enjoyed seeing him upset, making it harder to tolerate you and leading to more arguments. The constant bickering and fighting was a daily occurrence, a game of pull and push to see who would make the other crack, and usually, it was you pushing Miguel to his limits.

This was how your relationship was, if he can even say you guys had one, and he still remembers how your eyes gleamed with mischief when you were introduced to the Spider Society. At first glance, he comes off as intimidating, even scary with his size and demeanor alone. But with you? It was the complete opposite, like your ego was as big as him and then some. He couldn’t understand why you didn’t take him seriously.

Of course, today was no different.

“This isn’t how we organized this!”, Miguel yelled at you from the other side of the street, climbing up one of the buildings to catch up to your rapid swinging.

Currently, you were tracking down a lizard variant that Miguel had ordered you to capture and bring back to HQ. It was intended to be a solo mission, but instead of listening to him the first time around, you brought your newest friend Hobie to keep you company. As if the brunette’s stress couldn’t get any worse, seeing you two together creating havoc across the multiverse blew his blood pressure through the roof. The second you joined his team, you and Hobie instantly clicked, becoming almost inseparable when you met each other. Two rebels, two people who hated authority were brought together by fate. If Hobie’s anarchist tendencies were bad then, they’re worse now, and it only wore poor Miguel out knowing that headache number one found its match.

The variant from Earth-374 was tracked down in the sewer system, both you and your favorite rockstar managing to slow it down and trap it in one of the underground tunnels using your webbing. In celebration, you stopped by to get hot dogs, feeling you deserved a break and cheering at a job well done. Excitedly, you reported back to Miguel of your successful capture, hoping that maybe for once, he wouldn’t look at you with such dismay. Only when it was time for him to come to retrieve the anomaly, he was dumbfounded to see traces of webbing and no lizard. It escaped right under your grasp, your clumsy mistake of not securing them properly and forgetting to set up the sensors caused this to happen. You could practically see the tick in Miguel’s jaw as he all but looked at you in vexation.

Now you were attempting to amend your mistake with Miguel and Hobie alongside you, chasing the creature down through the streets of an alternate New York City. Despite both of them being there to help you, you still managed to go off on your own.

“I almost have it! Just let me get this!”, you called back to Miguel, distancing yourself from the other two as you launched your body towards the reptile underneath you. Miguel constantly called you out on this, how you always put yourself in danger instead of actively trying to get away from it. Your spider-senses were the same as everyone else’s, yet you behaved as if you didn’t use them half of the time, enjoying the thrill of being put in such precarious situations.

Hobie followed your lead while Miguel continued to grumble under his breath. You landed on the lizard’s back, shooting your webs to cover their eyes and blind them momentarily. They thrashed around the bustling streets, scaly skin rough against your feet and sharp claws reaching out to grab you.

A backflip here, another dodge and curve of your body there, you landed on top of the lizard’s head. They snarled when you shot another array of webs at their jaw, creating a makeshift lead and pulling upwards. In the mayhem of the chase, Miguel shot his own red webbing at its feet, yanking backwards and watching the mutated reptile slam into the concrete face first. Hobie mimicked the larger man’s actions, the both of them working in tandem to bring the lizard down to the ground and secure it thoroughly. You busied yourself with webbing its mouth shut, taking extra care to ensure you wouldn’t repeat your initial mistake.

Even if this was considered a personal redemption, you didn’t have the time to recover your breath before Miguel was on you again, his tone harsh and condescending.

“Do you have any idea what the hell you just did? How many times do I have to tell you to do things the way I say?!”, Miguel spat out, scolding you as if you were a child that lacked common sense.

“We still caught them no? The damage isn’t so bad”, you said stubbornly, putting your hands on your hips and looking up at Miguel defensively. From the way the outline of the eyes on his mask curved downward, you could tell he was irked. Perhaps this was his last straw with you.

“You destroyed half of the damn city! Are you really this stupid and hasty?”, he said almost exasperatingly. No matter how hard you tried to talk to him, Miguel never listened. He always wanted things done his way, and he just couldn’t stand the fact that you never saw him through.

“I wouldn’t be this hasty if you would just get off my back! You’re always so uptight!”

“This conversation isn’t over, you hear me?”, he hovered above you, not wanting to prolong this argument any longer. Messing with the buttons on his watch and opening a portal back to H.Q., he entrapped the lizard variant and threw them through the bright colors of the interdimensional opening. He took one last glance at you before walking through, leaving you and Hobie behind as you sighed and looked down at your feet.

“I messed up, didn’t I?”, you asked Hobie, who started walking towards the portal with you close behind.

“Nah, it’s not that bad. The big man will get over it”, he said with a shrug, tone of voice slightly teasing and doing nothing to calm your nerves.

You only silently hoped that Hobie was right.

Miguel exhaled with his fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose, breathing through his nostrils as he tried to regain some peace of mind. After today’s fiasco of a mission, he called you and Hobie back to his lab to discuss it. Whether it was just to talk or simply yell at you again for your failure, you were about to find out.

“Miguelito, you’re going to pop a vein at this rate with the way you’re stressing out,” you teased, looking over at the very agitated Spider-Man.

Oh, he hated that. He loathed how easily the nickname slipped past your lips whenever you antagonized him. You always found more ways to get under his thick skin, and this was one of the things you did from your long list that seemed to upset him the most.

“Dios dame paciencia”, Miguel muttered under his breath, huffing and puffing as he paced around.

“I lied before, he’s definitely pissed at you now”, Hobie said next to you, smugly glancing between you and your mutual boss from the corner of his eye.

“It’s not so bad, I swear”, you put your hands up in fake innocence, and Miguel just chuckled dryly under his breath.

“You’re joking right? You let the anomaly go because you weren’t paying attention, and I have to clean up after your mistakes, again”, Miguel turned his back to face you, red eyes looking at you fiercely.

“Okay, I may have done that, but we caught them right after. What’s the big deal?”, you said, shrugging, which only seemed to tick Miguel off more, feeling his shoulders tense and his left eye beginning to twitch.

“And that’s my cue to leave. Good luck, mate”, Hobie says, saluting you and leaving you to face Miguel’s wrath alone.

“What’s the big deal? You just don’t get it, do you? You’re always so careless, you never listen to me, and then you act oblivious when you mess up. How the hell are you even a spider-person?”, Miguel retorted, stepping closer to you as an act of intimidation, but it didn’t affect you much. You held your ground while he walked forward until he stood right in front of you, looking down as if you were merely a pest.

“I still do my job, don’t I? You’re stressing out over nothing, and you don’t have to be breathing down my neck all the time if you’d just let me do my own thing. The multiverse is still safe Miguelito, lighten up!”

“Stop fucking calling me that! God, you annoy the shit out of me I can’t stand you.”

“I’m aware of that, you remind me every day!”, you countered defiantly, and Miguel was on the brink of losing his last nerve.

“Coño, for once, will you just shut the fuck up!”, he yelled now, reaching an arm out to wrap his hand around your throat, holding you in place instinctively as you gasped.

He wasn’t choking you, his fingers not daring to tighten around your neck but acting as a placeholder. He bent down the slightest bit, whispering in your ear with a tone of voice that was borderline threatening.

“You’re a pain in my ass, an ungrateful brat, and I don’t know if you get on my nerves on purpose, but you’re going to learn to stop fucking with me like a plaything. ¿Entiendes?”, Miguel snarled, his lips grazing the outer shell of your ear. This you weren’t expecting, your mind short-circuiting as your breath hitched at his words.

Miguel pulled away, his hands still around your neck while he stared down at you. He was taking in your reaction, watching how your breathing increased, your eyes were filled with a curiosity he hadn’t seen from you, and he could practically feel your pulse pounding against his thumb that pressed into your skin.

He was trying to figure out the sudden change in your demeanor, half expecting you to say some sassy remark back to him, but nothing came out of your mouth. If anything, you seemed to like this.

“Ah, so that’s what it is? You’re a brat on purpose?”, he smirked then, finding your sudden silence amusing. “You think you’re hot shit, acting all defiant around me when in reality, you need to be put in your place.”

Your cheeks blushed, both confused and aroused at the sudden change in the dynamic between you two. Have you thought about Miguel like this? Sure, once or twice. But the big scary Spider-Man was a tough nut to crack, so instead, you compromised for teasing. There was no way he would act out on those very sudden desires, right? Right?

Oh how wrong you were.

“You put up a show all the time when you just want some attention. Ain’t that right, muñeca?”, Miguel said, leaning his face closer to yours so the tips of your noses barely touched. He was teasing you, playing with the idea of giving you something you didn’t even know you would crave. His grip tightened around your neck the slightest bit, bringing your attention back to him when he spoke again, “I asked you a question, answer me.”

“Y-Yes”, you stuttered, the neurons in your brain working just enough to formulate one word. At this rate, you could feel your body warming up with how Miguel spoke to you. It felt taboo to be in this situation right now, but some part of you wanted to indulge in this small fantasy.

“Hmmm, maybe I’ll remind you where you belong so you can stop acting out. You want that?”, Miguel’s voice was playful now, noticing how your blush intensified the closer he leaned down. One of his hands reached for your hip, bringing you closer to him while the other stayed on your neck, your jaw tilting up towards him. It was an invitation, a calling for a kiss, or whatever else he may have in mind.

“Fuck, yes”, you found yourself saying a bit too quickly, your brain telling you to just shut up and listen to him for once, to relieve whatever tension the both of you have developed for so long. Miguel took one last look into your eyes before he closed the distance between you two, his mouth meeting yours with force.

Your lips meddled together in a flurry of need, a mess of tongue and teeth as you both forgone all sense of professionalism. These weren’t the lovely, soft kisses one would expect from someone they’d been pining after. They were possessive and dominating. Miguel’s grip on your hip tightened, pinning you to his body as you stood chest to chest. He practically loomed over you, needing to crane your neck up to kiss him properly. You moaned when his tongue slipped between your lips, grazing the roof of your mouth and curling around your own. The hand wrapped around your neck slipped from its grasp to cradle your jaw, stroking your cheek in a way that opposed the harsh kisses he gave you.

When Miguel pulled away for a breath, your face was slightly flushed with plush lips to match. His thumb caressed your bottom lip, pressing into it and looking at you with newfound desire. He sighed when your lips closed around it, sucking it into your mouth gently and tracing the bottom of his digit with your soft tongue.

“You just need something in your mouth to be good right?”, he smirked, pressing the pad of his thumb on the middle of your tongue as you hummed against him with a nod. The red in his eyes darkened, watching you stare at him in desire. Miguel chuckled, taking his thumb out of your mouth and stepping away from you slightly with a toothy grin on his face.

“Let’s see if you can do more with your mouth than just piss me off”, he grunted, his voice dropping an octave as he pushed you down to your knees in front of him. If you thought Miguel looked big before, he looked much larger in comparison now, the shadow of his body swallowing you whole.

You looked up at him needily, your attention diverting to the bulge hidden underneath his spider suit. Mouth watering at the sight, your eyes widened when part of his suit disappeared in pixelated bits, his hard cock bouncing towards your cheek. An unintentional gasp slipped out of you, biting your bottom lip and rubbing your thighs together as your lower gut bubbled in warmth. Now you know why Miguel acted the way he did, why he was so hard to handle at times. His words and size matched the rest of him, big and intense all around.

“Don’t be scared of it”, you heard Miguel say mockingly, bringing you out of your admiring trance. You could tell despite his dominating demeanor, he wanted to be touched, his cock almost pulsing in front of you.

“Who said I was scared?”, you taunted back, grinning when you saw the same annoyed look Miguel does that seemed reserved for just you.

“You want to prove me wrong? Go ahead then”, his hand went to your hair, grabbing it in his fist as he felt you caressing his tip in light kisses. He sighed when your lips moved under the base of his shaft, kissing the prominent veins that pulsated against your warm mouth. It took everything in him not to thrust into your face, but he knew what you were doing, playing with him even when he was the one in control.

Your breath hitched again when your head was yanked back, ogling him as you saw how pent up he was, how badly he wanted you.

“Don’t fucking tease me. Now open wide baby”, he muttered, putting both of his hands on your head to get any flyaway hairs out of your face. He wanted to burn this picture into his memory, taking in the view of you having his dick down your throat for the first time.

Slowly, your lips wrapped around his member, encasing him in your hot mouth as you relaxed your jaw to take more of him. You didn’t know if you would be able to take all of him at once, but you sure as hell were gonna try. Breathing in through your nose, you moved further down, feeling more of him resting against your tongue before deciding that was enough for now.

With a gentle tug of your hair, you pulled back, moving your head over him while one of your hands went to his thighs for support. Your other hand held him at the base, jerking the rest of his cock that couldn’t fit. He groaned shamelessly, letting you have a small bit of control as your tongue traced over the underside of his length. It felt good, better than he imagined, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes to immerse himself in the pleasure.

You hollowed your cheeks out, bobbing your head harder while taking more of him into your mouth. Tasting the saltiness of his precum against your tongue, you moaned around him, his fingers tightening around your head as you kept working over him, not caring for the slight tingling in your jaw.

“Knew you were good at this”, Miguel mumbled, his fangs digging into his bottom lip as he watched you. You looked almost precious to him, your hand growing slick with saliva along with the rest of him, your lips pinker than usual. He couldn’t help himself, grabbing the top of your head and thrusting towards your face.

You choked a bit at the action, the sudden intrusion forcing him all the way down the base of your throat until he pulled his hips back. He did it again, pushing your face against his pelvis until your nose rubbed into the soft brown curls against his skin.

“See how pretty you look when your mouth is shut? Just get your throat fucked like the slut you are, taking me so well”, he lost himself to the sensation of you deep-throating him, struggling to take all of him at once. But you tried, your hands on the top of his thighs as you happily let him fuck your face.

Tears started to gather on your lash line the more forceful Miguel got, an audible gagging sound filling the room every time he plunged deeper into you. Spit was coating your chin and cheek, his balls hitting your face with every drive of his hips. Blowing someone wasn’t new to you, but the way Miguel used you to get off intensified the burning heat in your gut. Hearing the sounds he made, feeling how he throbbed and twitched in your mouth, how his thighs slightly shook the closer he got to his climax. It was arousing seeing him like this, and you enjoyed it like it were your favorite movie.

“I want to cum down your throat, you gonna let me?”, Miguel asked, sweat starting to build up on his hairline as he looked down at you. Your eyes were hazy, pupils dilated and almost lost as they met his. He could feel your harsh breathing against him, the drool pooling in your mouth, and the vibration of a pleasurable hum as you answered him with enthusiasm.

“Mierda, swallow it all for me, I don’t want you to waste a drop”, he said hastily, thrusting up into you a few more times before he shuddered with a loud grunt. Miguel’s hips stayed flush with your face, tears dropping down your cheek as you choked around him and felt him cum down your throat. You clutched his thighs, breathing shakily and trying to remain calm to the best of your ability. He felt you constricting around him, taking everything he had to give while his fingers dug into your scalp.

With ease, Miguel pulled his hips back, watching you catch your breath. You moved your head up, opening your mouth to show him how you followed his directions, no traces of his release left behind. Not a single drop was wasted. For the first time since you’ve been in the same room with him, there was a smile on his face.

“I should give you a treat for being so good to me just now”, Miguel purred at you, bringing you back onto your feet and kissing you deeply. He could taste himself against your tongue, groaning into your mouth as he chased the flavor of his release. You clung to him, gasping when you felt a claw on your back tearing at your spider suit as he slipped it down your body, leaving you bare before him.

“Fucking hell Miguel”, you whined against him, the brisk air of his lab making your nipples hard, biting your lip when a rough thumb caressed a perked nub. He was handsy and impatient, lifting you up by the bottom of your thighs and bringing you to a spare desk on the other side of the room. You sat on the cool surface, legs instantly parting for Miguel as his hips pressed against yours.

With hungry lips, they wrapped around your other nipple, sucking lavishly and humming around it as his hands explored over you. His other free hand trailed down your stomach, gracing your bare hip and reaching towards your warmth. Your hands went to his brown hair, running through the strands and arching towards his touch as a thick, calloused thumb ran circles on your clit.

“You always get this wet when you have dick down your throat?”, he chuckled, releasing your nipple to kiss your neck, nipping the soft skin while he continued his rubbing. You couldn’t even answer him, throwing your head back to grant him more skin to touch and crying out when two of Miguel’s fingers slipped inside you.

The soft squelching that filled the room was almost embarrassing, feeling your arousal drip onto his skin with every plunge of his digits. You were already so wet and pent up from the earlier usage of your throat for Miguel’s pleasure, sending you that much closer to the edge. With a flick of his wrist, his fingers curled into the soft spot inside you, your thighs twitching under him and pulling another whimper out of you.

“Please, fuck please”, you gripped onto his bicep, grinding your hips against his hand to chase your own pleasure. Miguel’s sharp eyes observed you, watching every stutter you gave him and how your eyebrows creased the closer you got to your climax. He was mesmerized by your soaked heat, knuckles deep into you and hitting every sensitive spot he could find.

“So needy, fucking into my hand like a whore. You want to cum on my fingers muñeca?”, he said against your ear, biting on the lobe as you shook underneath him and weakly nodded. His thumb came back into the mix, rubbing fast circles on your clit that made you keen. You were dripping down his wrist, your hot walls fluttering around him and your nails leaving indents in his biceps from where you held on to him.

“Cum for me so I can fill your pussy up just right”

It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak, closing your eyes and mewling out Miguel’s name in the crook of his neck. He groaned at how tight you got, sucking his digits deeper into your body as you flexed around him with trembling legs. He didn’t stop moving his hand against you, making sure to milk your orgasm as much as he could. With a soft kiss to your lips, he pulled his touch away from your center, marveling at how your fluids glistened in the dim light of his lab. Staring at you lustfully, he slipped his fingers into his mouth, savoring your taste with a lewd sigh.

“I’ll get a better taste of you later, but for now let me fuck that defiant attitude out of you”, Miguel said, his hands going to your thighs and lifting them up. He put one of your legs on his shoulder, bending down closer to you as your back was resting on top of the desk. You could feel how hard he was for you again, grinding his length against your wetness, his tip bumping into your clit deliciously every time.

“Just fuck me, please Miguel”, you begged, clenching around nothing and feeling how badly you needed to be filled with something. You expected some sly comment from him, but he surprised you, positioning himself above your entrance and pushing forward.

“You’re so fucking tight. No wonder why you act the way you do”, he hissed at the way you throbbed around him. He didn’t stop moving until his body was flush with yours, reaching the deepest parts inside you and stretching you so deliciously you whined. It would be an exaggeration to say you felt him in your chest, but you swear you could.

A choked moan left your throat when he pulled his hips back to pound into you again, setting a rough pace from the start. The smell of sex started to fill the lab, Miguel’s face digging into your neck and biting the skin as he huffed under his breath. He leaned forward towards your body, your leg that he had on his shoulder bending towards your chest, making him slip deeper into you. You yelped at the action and fucked back into him, your hips meeting his with an audible slap.

Miguel was unrelenting, his hands digging into the plush skin of your thighs and hips as he looked down at where your bodies met. His pelvis rubbed into your clit with every stroke, tilting his hips the slightest bit to hit your g-spot every time he plowed into you. The annoyance he once felt towards you evaporated from his mind, now only focused on screwing you into the desk. It was a lot, he was a lot, but all you could do was be good and take what he gave you with no complaints, holding on to the edge of the desk so tightly your knuckles turned white. He was also silently thankful his lab was farther away from everything else, his ears taking in every delectable sound that came from your bruised lips unabashedly.

“You’re so loud. Do you want the entire HQ to hear how much of a slut you are? Letting your boss fuck you like this for being a brat”, he teased in your ear, feeling you clench around him as he increased the intensity of his thrusts against you. You liked the mix of his degrading and praise, common sense so far gone from your current mind that it left you stuck on cloud 9.

The sneaky hand on your hip moved down your body again, rubbing the pulsing nub as you rambled incoherently against him. He could feel you getting close, doing everything in his power to ruin you for any other person, if that were even an option. You didn’t have it in you to warn him of your impending release, your thighs shaking against his body. But he already knew, slamming harder into you to the point where the desk underneath you screeched against the floor. He was getting close too, his eyes trailing down your body and seeing the white ring at the base of his cock.

“You’re so close baby. Need you to cum around me so I can fill you up, let everyone know who’s fucking you so good”, Miguel grunted against your ear again, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders and clinging to his body. Your nails dug into his back, scratching down the firm planes of muscle and leaving angry red streaks in their wake. He shuddered at the touch, growling into your skin and biting at your shoulder.

Head thrown back in ecstasy, the tension in your gut snapped as you spasmed and wailed under him, the pleasure overwhelming you the second time around. Miguel held on to your hips to keep you from jerking against him, whispering praises into your ear and telling you how good you were, how good you felt squeezing around him. His pace grew sloppy, pumping into you a few more times before his release hit with a guttural moan. Cursing in Spanish under his breath he came inside you, filling you to the hilt with some of his seed spilling out of you.

The both of you panted against one another, Miguel’s body slowly relaxing as he placed one final kiss against the new marks he left on your neck. He lifted his head back to look at you, your eyes half-lidded and face flushed as you caught your breath. Your heart was going a mile a minute, knowing your body would feel sore, but you felt satisfied beyond measure. With a hiss and much protest, Miguel pulled his softening length out of you, watching his cum slip out of your slit and run down your thigh.

“You okay?”, he asked, his voice no longer laced with anger or irritation. You nodded, licking your lips as you tried to find words for him, but your mind was still fogged with the high you just experienced.

“You should listen to me more often you know. I don’t want you causing any more trouble”, Miguel told you, voice softer than usual as he caressed the soft skin of your quivering thigh.

“And what’s the fun in that if this happens when I piss you off?”, you told him, a dopey grin on your face as your eyes met his. The same mischievous glint he always found was there again, something he initially hated now being something he wanted to see more often.

“Then I’ll hold you to it. Don’t be surprised if I put you in your place again”

“I’m looking forward to it, Miguelito”

He found himself chuckling at that, the nickname that made the hairs at the back of his neck rise in aggravation now felt like a blanket of comfort. He knew down the line this wasn’t the end of your antics, that you would continue to get on his nerves. Only this time, he found a way to get something out of it.

Maybe just maybe, having you around wasn’t so bad after all.

©️ ovaryacted 2023

#miguel o’hara #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara smut #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv smut #atsv x you #spiderman 2099 #itsv #ovaryacted fics

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missmonsters2 · 1 year

Note

🥶

WandaNat

Pairing: WandaNat x Fem!Reader

Warnings: awkward!reader. clint slander. WandaNat no mercy.

Note: i miss them

Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: 999 (🧍‍♀️)

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

This was your worst nightmare—trapped between the bodies of two incredibly hot, kind, and funny women.

And no, it wasn't in the sexy way—your brain refused to even let you go down that route. You'd implode at even the slightest thought of it.

This was Clint's fault, you quietly seethed, plotting his gruesome murder that could later be turned into a true crime podcast. Laura will have to be a widowed single mother, and the children will have to grow up fatherless, but surely it was for the best.

"Come down to visit us!" Clint said to you, your mind mimicking his voice unflatteringly. "It's been way too long since you guys came to stay with us."

It was a normal occurrence; you thought nothing of it. You, Wanda, and Natasha often went to stay with Clint and his family quarterly. Natasha visited more with her girlfriend, Wanda, and they invited you every time, but you settled that four times a year was enough.

It was usually fun, and the time spent was enjoyable, so you really had thought nothing about it.

Until Clint decided he was actually the incarnate of the devil and condemned you for some undisclosed sin.

"Oh, you three are cool sharing a room, right? The other spare bedroom is under renovation. I mean, one of you can take the couch but I highly don't recommend it with what the kids have spilled on it over the years."

No, it wasn't okay, you wanted to say at the time, but Wanda and Natasha nonchalantly waved Clint off and told him it was fine, and the conversation breezed on, never to be returned to again.

Why would he invite all three of you if there wasn't enough space!? You tried to tell Wanda and Natasha that you could drive to the nearest hotel at night, but they looked at you strangely and asked if you hated them. It was jokingly, but you could hear a tinge of hurt in their voice, which silenced you from offering to leave again.

But now you were suffering.

The bed was way too small for three people but left enough room for just a couple of inches to keep you from coming into skin-to-skin contact with either redhead.

You stared at the ceiling, despite being unable to make out any details of the room in the darkness.

Why the fuck were you in the middle?

You should've been on the edge. At least then, you could hang half your body off it to keep some distance.

You started at the edge of the bed—make no mistake. But then Natasha came to your side and asked you to scootch over. You assumed she preferred sleeping on the right side, so you started to make your way down to the other side. But then, to your horror, Wanda climbed in from the other end, effectively trapping you in the middle.

The words were caught in your throat as you tried to force them out and ask if you could have the edge, but Natasha and Wanda mumbled their goodnights before promptly falling asleep.

This was unacceptable; you mentally cried. This was—weird. You know that Wanda and Natasha have been together for ages, and they probably didn't care, but it was strange to be in the middle of them like this. You're way too awkward for this.

It brought up the unwanted feelings you've been trying to get rid of for months.

The worst part was that it was winter, and this room was so fucking cold. Was Clint going through financial hardship? Why isn't there any heat in this room?

You wished him ill, you wished him ill, you wished bad things upon Clint Barton.

You shifted, trying to pull the blanket up higher and shrink yourself to retain some of the heat. You turned on your side, facing Wanda's back, and frowned. You could practically feel the heat radiating off her and wanted to scoot away from her. But you couldn't. You'd scoot right into Natasha, who was also radiating heat as she faced your back.

At this moment, you hated them for being so unaware of their temptations.

You swallowed. Moving a little closer to Wanda wouldn't be too bad, right? Just to steal a bit more of her warmth, so you could fall asleep and wake up early to get out of bed.

You scooted a little closer, your nose just inches away from her back since there wasn't much wiggle room. Her heat emitted off her like a goddamn fireplace, and you sighed a little at the warmth on your nose and the parts of your cheeks.

It was still pretty cold, and you shivered a little.

Your movement seemed to wake Wanda as she lifted her head to look around at you. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Turning back, Wanda lay her head back down and shut her eyes with a yawn.

You started to scoot back to where you were, but Wanda grabbed your wrist from under the blanket and pulled it over her waist as she shuffled back into you.

The warmth pressed against your front jolted you, and you were stiff, despite how good it felt.

"любимая, she's cold," Wanda mumbled in the dark as she threaded her fingers through yours.

Wanda was clearly speaking to Natasha because the redhead behind you shifted and moved closer until she was pressed against your back snuggly. Her arms wrapped around your midsection as she tangled her legs through yours.

You wanted to die.

You wanted to kill Clint Barton and then run into oncoming traffic.

"Um," you croaked.

"Is this better?" Natasha mumbled sleepily, and she was so close you felt her lips move against your shoulder.

No.

Yes.

No.

"Uh," you dragged out before finally deciding with an awkward stiff, "Yes."

It was warm—almost too warm now. You closed your eyes with a silent groan.

You weren't getting any sleep tonight.

#wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff x you #wandanat x you #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #mm: my fics #mm.drabble.wandanat

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jymwahuwu · 5 months

Note

I can see Jing Yuan pulling off shits like "I haven't been inside my wife for a day I feel like I could get a mara struck😩"

It might be a joke, but to some officials it was serious. They are MORTIFIED.

So they make sure you, his darling, his wife, his lover, his everything, give him his daily cockwarming or even better, letting him fuck you every time he gets the chance. It became a common occurrence for Bailu to visit Jing Yuan's residence 2 or even 3 times a week because of how hard the general has been fucking you every day (hell, she might as well stay at the mansion).

The only time he will stop breeding your eggs out is when you are finally pregnant. He will become hapi hapi guy, willingly take the suppressant to suppress his libido so his baby won't get hurt if he were to fuck you during pregnancy. But in exchange for having your pussy no longer bullied, you will get nausea, back pain, and so many things altogether.

At least after the baby is born, the amount of times he needs to fuck you a day is reduced as now he likes to spend more of his time with his baby.

Yet be ready, when the baby is big enough to even go training with Yanqing, Jing Yuan will look at you and be like; "another baby?🥺"

-CW: yandere, dub-con, breeding, pregnancy, humiliation

Wait…it's so humiliating that the officials arranged for us to be fucked by Jing Yuan…I love this 😣😩🥺💦👉👈 Like you knew you were inevitably going to be creampied by Jing Yuan… but now you were being fucked for a greater good…?

Jing Yuan…maybe just jokingly complaining about not having you by his side - you, his destined, only spouse and lover. The seat of divine foresight cannot cease for a moment. Although the general does not have to decide or be present for everything, the workload is still a heavy and irresistible burden, like some tangled threads. Sometimes the general can only give you a holographic kiss on the forehead and go back to work. Once, after a meeting of high-level officials in Xianzhou, Jing Yuan had a faint smile on his lips as he listened to how the officials responded to people's mara and their greetings to the general. General sighed, shrugged and said.

"I haven't been inside my wife for a day I feel like I could get a mara struck😩"

The officials were shocked by Jing Yuan's outspokenness. Remembering how the general was rumored to be doting on and attached to his wife, they all avoided his eyes in embarrassment and changed the subject. After Jing Yuan left, they slowly realized that this was a serious matter related to Xianzhou's foundation. Jing Yuan is one of the seven Arbiter-Generals. If the general gets mara struck now, who else has the talent to succeed on Luofu? Fu Xuan is indeed talented, but She is still… young and not as experienced as him.

Generally speaking, as a general's wife, you are not supposed to be present at the seat of divine foresight while he is at work to avoid distracting him. But you…shouldn't you have such an obligation…? To comfort your husband?

You don't know when, but you find that you are often sent to the seat of divine foresight or teleported to any planet where Jing Yuan is located. You are like a little hamster that is soft, sweet, and can be carried around, put in the general's pocket. Sometimes he wants to be considerate and give you private space, but in the end he can't help but want to bury his head in your chest and rub it. Jing Yuan really can't let you leave.

The officials studied your schedule and it was all sorted. According to Xianzhou's time and calendar, there won't be a day that goes by that you don't get fucked by Jing Yuan's dick. If there is a schedule mistake, they are remiss.

How humiliating was it to be wheeled in front of the General to be fucked…? You may have your own ideals and hobbies, but these must be put behind the daily schedule of "warming your husband's cock." You stood aside uncomfortably, listening to Jing Yuan correcting documents and giving instructions to his assistants. Your private parts heat up due to the uneasy waiting, knowing what you will face after his work is temporarily over…

Sometimes, Jing Yuan just pretends not to care. With no change in your expression, the general grabbed you and pressed you against his cock to keep you warm for several hours, until you burst into tears uncontrollably, begging him to move even a little bit... What’s more, the general even had a special room, put you there, and tie your legs apart and lock your hands on the head of the bed. All you need to do is open your legs and wait for conception...Those balls press and slap against your swollen petals, loudly, cream swirling inside.

Bailu was too pure to understand what was happening. She just checks on you. She thought that pregnancy was about returning to Vidyadhara's egg or something.

Until…you are conceived, and a little life is growing inside you. Jing Yuan sometimes thinks about using artificial wombs or other technological alternatives. Witnessing your nausea and discomfort, Jing Yuan felt really uncomfortable and asked for leave to take care of you (even though he was the one who impregnated you…), but at the same time… Jing Yuan really wanted to taste the sweet milk flowing from your breasts. … He can only suppress his desires. He knows he has to be a responsible, trustworthy husband to you.

After the baby came into the world, both Jing Yuan and Yanqing were overjoyed. Their small palms wrapped around Yanqing's fingertips. They inherited that beautiful white hair, the most striking appearance feature, but some look like you. They waddle and explore the world with their palms outstretched. Looking at the baby, Yanqing and you, Jing Yuan's face shines with pride and happiness.

As your baby grows up, Jing Yuan ravages you less frequently… But don't forget that after Jing Yuan fell in love, he decided on the name of the third baby in the family. With earnest hope, he caressed you again. "Another baby…? 🥺"

At the same time, Jing Yuan's health report is as usual, even better than before, without any signs of mara. The plan worked.

#yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #yandere jing yuan #yandere hsr x reader #yandere jing yuan x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #jing yuan x female reader

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cranberrv · 6 months

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dating dallas winston headcanons

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a/n : aghhh first post on here!! lowk kind of nervous, but i thought this would be a strong way to start since everyone loves dal <3 i really hope you enjoy lovelies !! requests are open ! ( not proofread btw, ignore any mistakes <3 )

- dating dal is something special, because he doesn’t really do long-term

- so people know that you’re different, a girl he actually wants to keep in his life for a while

- it’s electric, to say the least. it’s hard to keep your hands off each other

- even in a non sexual manner, he finds himself always wanting to touch you in some way

- keep in mind he is much less than a gentleman, forgetting to open doors for you and not bringing you flowers on dates

- but he cares. and that’s something

- small gestures like a hand around your waist or always keeping an eye on you at parties. brushing down a fly away piece of your hair with his hand, making sure he’s on the side of the sidewalk closer to the road, to keep you safe.

- that’s how you know he cares about you, not through grand, movie-like gestures

- sometimes he cares a bit too much, getting too overprotective

- some drunk guy talks to you at the bar? he mysteriously leaves with a black eye. and god forbid someone touches you in a manner he doesn’t approve of, someone might be ending up in the hospital.

- you get into arguments about that sort of thing, saying he’s being too dramatic or that you were capable of defending yourself.

- actually, you get into arguments about everything

- he’s usually the one to start them. if he’s in a bad mood, he will find anything to argue about. wether you teased him and he took offence, or you stole his jacket because it was chilly

- he’s defensive and cocky, and will not end an argument until he gets the last word in

- maybe muttering some rude name at you under his breath, or interrupting you until you finally give up

- you should not expect to win any arguments with him and his stubbornness

- he’s not gonna apologize either, unless it’s something really serious, like if he made you cry

- then he’ll ghost you for a few days, then come back and apologize

- other than that, most arguments either end in cuddling or him ghosting you for a week or so

- speaking of cuddling, he only really likes it whenever he’s tired or tipsy. he’ll lazily wrap his arms around you in bed, and keep you there. there’s no way you’re getting up

- rubbing your back with his hand, holding you to his chest, planting kisses on your head are normal occurrences during these peaceful moments

- cuddling him is about as rare as the northern lights, so you take advantage of it

- other than that, most nights end in make-out sessions

- sleepy kisses are his absolute favourite, his lips lazily caressing yours

- he’s always in control, don’t even try

- his big hand holding your head in place, and his other hand holding your waist

- he loves kissing you. everywhere he possibly can. head, lips, cheek, forehead, neck, shoulder, everywhere.

- he loves making out at the drive-in (or more cough cough), it’s so risky and he looooves PDA

- he often takes you to the drive-in or the dingo for dates, nothing fancy

- he always picks you up at your house, he doesn’t wanna meet you there in case you’re first and it looks like he’s late

- the torn leather of the passengers car seat becomes a common place for you to sit, he loves driving around with you

- your parents don’t trust him or his driving, based on the amount of times dates have been cut short because he’s been pulled over and taken to the police station for speeding

- so because of your parents aversion to him, whenever he wants to visit you, he just sneaks into your bedroom

- he thinks he’s being subtle with that, but yet your parents can always smell the cigarette smoke and leather the next day

- in conclusion, dating dallas can be very layered and complicated, but overall, very fun and exhilarating <3

#dally winston #the outsiders #dallas winston #dallas Winston x reader #dally winston fluff #dallas winston fluff #headcanon #imagine #dallas #outsiders #dallas winston headcanons #dallas winston imagine #dating dallas winston #dallas winston fanfic #matt dillon #80s movies

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shirecorn · 3 months

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this is a bit silly but i have strabismus and i never see anyone make designs with it. so thanks! it made me feel really nice!

I know four people with strabismus! It's actually really common occurrence in real life.

This particular design based on the canon appearance of a My Little Pony character.

In both canon and fandom, she is shown to be extremely clumsy, makes many mistakes, and speaks in somewhat of a monotone. A lot of people consider her autistic-coded.

Both autism and strabismus are great! But misaligned eyes have been used as a shorthand for stupidity in animation and comics for a very long time. So I don't like to pair them, personally.

Apparently strabismus does occur more frequently in autistic people! But there are way more people who have it who are allistic.

I'm of the opinion that you can pair traits together that just happen to align with stereotypes as long as you have those traits represented separately in other characters. There's quite a few ponies who are easy to interpret as autistic, but she's the only one I can think of with strabismus, and unfortunately her personality is easy to write off as "stupid." A good way to fix this without changing the character is to have a variety of other allistic characters with strabismus and other traits that don't reinforce stereotypes.

The same goes for other over-done tropes that combine traits. If your only gay character is a cop, that's suspect like you're just checking boxes. But if you have lots of gays in a variety of professions then cop becomes just one of the many flavors of gay. The same goes for childlike or autistic asexuals, and ethnic stereotypes like aggressive black characters, or tech-support indians. All of these people exist! But they also exist (much more frequently) without those combinations. So adding diversity to your world is important.

I don't think I have any ocs with strabismus, so I'll bestow the honor on one or several of them. I'm glad my art made you feel nice, I hope to do more of that in the future!

#ask #ramble machine

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futurecorps3 · 11 months

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Hiii, could you write a nikokai fic where reader is like in love with kaz but he doesn't really pay attention to her. And then the crows meet sturmhond because of a heist and he takes interest in the reader form the first moment he sae her and makes her fall in love with him. And then whatever you want lol. Maybe kaz being jealous idk.

Sorry for any grammatical mistake, english it's not my first language.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞

Masterlist<3

Summary: After years of being in love with the one and only Kaz Brekker, breaking her own heart, Y/N meets someone else... Pairing: Sturmhond x fem!inferni!reader, Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Warnings: The usual crow violence, DRINKING, jealous Kaz, mean Kaz, "unrequited" love for a little while, Matthias is alive and well like in the books duh but this is ofc before Nikolai becomes king, idc I just want my Fjerdan hunk happy in Ketterdam, curse words, kind of a messy timeline. HURT AND NO COMFORT. Lmk if I missed any.

Word Count: 2.9K!! Requested: Yes

A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! :( I've been looking forward to getting to this specific request because oh my god, also, I changed it up a little; making Kaz actually be in love with reader but never really trying anything. Tysm for requesting love! Hope you enjoy :)

˚ · • . °

Exhaustion. That's what she felt, and to be honest, it was even more frustrating when Y/N knew she was doing it to herself. Those persistent yet futile attempts at reading Kaz's silence or gaze as something else; a love message, a confession of his sins, any sign of vulnerability reserved for her. However, these attempts, though fervent, ultimately proved fruitless.

How could she confirm what she thought she saw if, after, say, he appeared distressed at her being in danger or fumed when some dick was being extra disgusting at the bar that night; he went back to being his usual cold self?

When she finally obtained concrete evidence that disproved her misconceptions ("Jesper, she prefers black coffee" or "Y/N, could you join me in my office for a moment?" simply to spend time together in quietude), he strategically distanced himself throughout the week, transforming those precious moments of tranquility and companionship into ordinary occurrences, leading her to, somehow, misunderstand them.

Another shot of vodka and the pain her thoughts evoked was replaced by the burning, bitter sensation in her tongue and throat. "A hangover won't make Kaz let you stay behind tomorrow, you know that?" Matthias smiled next to her.

Since he joined the crows, the Fjerdan had taken a special liking to his girlfriend's best friend; she was funny, kind hearted and could keep up his pace in drinking games. Nina couldn't be happier to see her loves get along so well, saying it's her dream come true. "Oh don't even start, Matthias" Y/N answered, feigning annoyance as she poured more of the burning liquid into her glass and pulled out another for her friend.

They silently toasted to nothing in particular and chatted about their books as they usually did. Matthias' romance novel had an interesting love triangle Y/N was eager to read when he was finished. From how he talked about it, the girl knew it was just her type of story. They were in the middle of a playful argument about a plot-hole Y/N thought she found when Kaz approached them.

His usual demeanor seemed a bit... shaken. If you asked the blonde, he'd say he only looked more agitated, but Y/N/N knew better; his hair was covering his forehead slightly, but he wasn't brushing it back. The limp was prominent still, yet he wasn't using his cane. Kaz was in a rush to get to her, maybe?.

"One of your fellow countrymen is starting a turmoil outside, doesn't speak Kerch. Will you please, for the tree's sake, go and talk some sense into his thick blonde skull?" Saints, why did she like him so much? Even like that, Y/N thought he looked rather divine. Matthias stood up from his seat and directed himself to the entrance.

"Since when do you care for what happens outside that door?" She asked with a grin, genuinely curious. "I wouldn't if he wasn't scaring off the pigeons. No wealthy tourist will endure the trouble that some drunk Fjerdan means just to get inside a place full of people that'll take his money" the boy explained, looking down at her.

Kaz's complexion, kissed by the soft glow of the candles, is pale yet flawless, as if untouched by the harshness of the world he inhabits. His sharp, well-defined features give him an air of enigmatic sophistication, further heightened by the way the light dances upon his cheekbones, emphasizing their elegant structure.

Y/N realizes she's staring. She looks away.

The bastard smirks. "Finding something intriguing, are we?" And oh, she wanted to stab him to see if that would wipe the stupid grin he carried. "Oh, please, Kaz. You give yourself too much credit. I was merely lost in thought, contemplating the mysteries of the world. Your face happened to be in the line of sight, that's all."

Quick, sarcastic answer, as if the seconds between her silence confirmed even further what he was saying. He scoffed, drinking the remains of alcohol on Matthias' glass and fixed his hair in the process. "Stop drinking, a hangover won't spare you from our meeting tomorrow".

˚ · • . °

She should've listened. The crashing waves outside only intensified the discomfort, while the salty breeze seemed to carry a tinge of regret. Even the beauty of the sea she was now too used to felt distant and inaccessible, overshadowed by the haze of her post-indulgence remorse.

Nina, taunting Matthias with a mature Ravkan song and Jesper shooting bottles in the warehouse, created an uneasy atmosphere for hungover Y/N. This unsettling environment made it difficult for her to focus on evaluating any potential deals they were to discuss with the privateer Kaz said they were meeting that day. Also, they had been waiting for over an fifteen minutes now! She was surprised Kaz was waiting still.

He checked his pocket watch subtly, sighing at the tardiness of their Ravkan guests. Then, he looked over at Y/N. Even with those deep baggy eyes and with her head on her hands in exasperation, she managed to awaken that odd feeling in his chest. He hated it. No, he despised it.

If he ever accepted that he was down hard for the girl, he could also get over the fact that she, too, liked him. Well, he wasn't dumb! There was no denying that Y/N's actions warmed his heart. He just knew loving was a dangerous thing to do, a weakness he couldn't afford after spending years building a reputation in Ketterdam.

Then came a loud bang on the heave wooden doors of the warehouse. "Fucking finally" Y/N sighed, going to open the door herself before anyone would, wanting nothing but to end this as soon as possible so she could go back home to sleep. She grabbed the handle and pulled, the bright light outside blinding her momentarily before seeing the privateer and his crew.

"Hello gorgeous! Here to see Mr. Brekker. I'm guessing you're one of his associates?" A sharp, slightly deep voice greeted. The girl shielded her eyes from the light and found captain smily offering his hand out. In Ketterdam, rumours ran as quick as blood on pavement; Sturmhond knew that. He needed no introduction. Every person involved in not so legal activities who didn't live under a rock had heard at least once about the dog of the sea.

She took it, shaking gently. "Y/N Y/L/N, but if you prefer nicknames, call me Haepha". Then she stepped aside, pretending not to notice the smirk on Sturmhond's face so his partners could come in. The rumors hadn't done justice to his captivating presence.

The charismatic privateer stood tall, his dark hair falling in unruly waves that added to his allure. His piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a world of secrets, and a mischievous smile played across his lips. Dressed in opulent garments that exuded confidence and flair, Sturmhond commanded attention with every step as his crew and he approached the rest of the crows.

"I'll stick to your name for now doll, too pretty not to use," And the bastard winked at Y/N, making a Shu girl who was walking behind him with the same confidence giggle. The worst thing about pretty men is they know they're pretty, and knew damn well how to get away with being cocky. She knew his type, so she brushed the wink off and walked towards her friends.

Kaz and Sturmhond shook hands. Everyone who was fast enough grabbed a seat in old boxes or even on the floor. Jesper offered Y/N his seat, knowing that the vodka she drank last night was no merciful rival, and stood behind her alongside his boyfriend. Inej lingered sitting in a window near them as Matthias and Nina remained standing, contrary to all the privateers' team.

Kaz started making introductions, all a mere formality, Y/N knew. "You've met Y/N, our inferni. Behind him are Jesper, sharp-shooter, and Wylan, our demo-man. The blonde wall-resembling man over there is Matthias, and Nina is a heartrender. Inej in the window, our Wraith" he pointed, everyone nodding or waving at the dark-haired man.

"A Wraith alright, didn't notice you were there sweetheart!" He pointed out and then introduced the twins; Tolya and Tamar. As well as Anya and Andrei, who were two members of his ship's company who wanted to come by and see who they were working with. When that was taken care of, plans were strategized by both leaders and positions were given to each member.

Y/N knew Kaz was characterized by having plans from A to Z for very elaborate heists, but even this one seemed out of his reach, almost too ambitious. But if Sturmhond's name lived up to the myth, nothing was quite impossible for him and Kaz's love for money could get him to plot even the tiniest detail.

Their objective this time was to steal some kind of jewel called "the moon's tears". It was a gem said to be worth four million kruge, to be bargained for even more; the crows' biggest heist yet. The vault it was in was widely known for its impenetrable security measures, including seemingly impenetrable barriers, intricate lock mechanisms, and a team of highly skilled guards.

Those two were absolutely insane! Even before one considered the noble who owned the vault and therefore the gem they were trying to steal, knew Kaz from the past. It was an extremely peculiar coincidence that a masquerade ball was taking place some distance away from the location of the vault, which represented the perfect opportunity for the work.

This would allow them to exploit the lack of security and sweep the gem away. Nina would ideally take care of the distraction, to keep the nobleman from returning home too quick, but her heartrending abilities would be helpful to make a quick work to make the few officers guarding the vault doze off.

So it became Y/N's job. A job she was to complete with Sturmhond.

After the meeting ended and Y/N's headache had worsened, a deep voice was heard from behind her. She turned to find the charming privateer flashing a smile at her. "Looking forward to working with you, darling" He commented, offering his hand out and all. She took it and shook half-heartedly, eager to just go home and sleep for the rest of the evening.

"Me too, handsome" Irony laced in her tone. "Doesn't seem like it, you alright? You look like a ghost. Lovely, yes, but still ghostly" The comment made her smile, tightening the grasp on his hand but not shaking anymore "Just hungover s'all" "Told you so!" Jesper proclaimed from their side as everyone directed themselves to the door.

The privateer smiled sweetly. "Got any plans this evening?" "Other than rotting in my room until my body stops hurting? Not really. Why?" Y/N looked down briefly, realizing she still hadn't let go of his hand and then released her grasp "Well, if my days at sea have thought me anything other than how to read the stars..." he started, tapping the necklace with a star charm the girl sported.

A "gift" from Kaz (some jewelry that wasn't redeemed from a heist he let her keep). "...is how to cure a hangover. Mind coming with me to a bar? You can decide which". Going to a bar with a complete stranger who had a reputation of being in trouble most of the time and who she were to work with? Sure thing.

"Promise youll make it go away?" "Promise".

˚ · • . °

And what a plot twist he was. Jesper had jokingly said to the girl that she shouldn't take a privateer's word but he did termiante her hangover with some strange, black-ish liquid she didn't dare to ask the composition of. Then they drank more.

As the drinks arrived, they raised their glasses, the clink of crystal breaking the spell of their silent connection. Sturmhond smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "To new adventures and unexpected encounters," he proposed, his voice smooth and velvety.

Y/N couldn't help but return the smile, feeling the warmth of excitement spread through her veins. "To embracing the unknown," she replied, raising her glass in agreement. They took a sip, the flavors dancing on their tongues. A comfortable silence settled between them, allowing the sounds of the bar to envelop them. After a moment, Sturmhond leaned in, his voice low and captivating.

"So, Y/N, what brings you to this lawless corner of the world?". He asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. Y/N's eyes sparkled as she recounted her journey, the challenges she faced, and the dreams that fueled her determination. Sturmhond listened intently, his attention unwavering, as if she held the secrets of a hidden treasure.

As she spoke, Y/N couldn't help but notice the genuine interest in Sturmhond's eyes. He asked thoughtful questions and shared stories of his own adventures, effortlessly weaving tales of daring escapades that left Y/N hanging on his every word.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, a seamless exchange of ideas, dreams, and aspirations. Time seemed to melt away as they delved into deeper discussions, finding solace in the connection they were building. Laughter intertwined with their words, a symphony of shared amusement and understanding.

They became lost in each other's company, entranced by the way their thoughts aligned and their hearts danced to the same rhythm. And as the night wore on, their conversation continued, their new found connection growing stronger with every passing moment.

She couldn't help but think of Kaz, when exiting the bar, and on the way back to The Slat. When would he ever, in a million years, make her feel so seen? How could he? He seemed to be nothing but cold and a bad type of confusing to the girl.

Y/N was not blind, either. Sturmhond was known for his endless romantic encounters with women across the sea, and he was interested in her. Now, she could not deny the guy was a charming boy too pretty for this Earth, sharp as a knife and, as she found out that evening, shared a lot of ideals and interests with her.

Could he maybe work as a rebound? Maybe. Would she shamelessly use him as that? Could be. Having his eyes on her that whole meeting was no coincidence, and she liked his attention. Maybe what mends a broken heart was a handsome privateer.

They agreed to meet up the next day, his treat.

˚ · • . °

Back at the Slat, Kaz was fuming. No, not fuming; seething. A bar outing? She just met him! He could not believe his eyes when they were talking hand in hand like they had known each other from a previous lifetime.

In the little time that had passed since (most of) the crows had returned from the meeting, Kaz had already gotten four drunks kicked out, death-stared a group of dregs twice so they'd shorten their break time to get them to work and downed four vodka shots.

Why was he this mad? She wasn't even his and as far as she knew; he had no intentions of being hers either. The boy couldn't be mad at her, but he was, and Kaz knew very well he was being a big selfish shit. He could not blame Y/N either; the bastard she had been crushing on gives no signs of interest but a privateer handsome as the devil shows up with his attention completely focused on her? Of course she'd fall.

He just hated that feeling.

It's presence looms, heavy and suffocating, wrapping its tendrils around the heart, constricting with an iron grip. It whispers sweet poison into the mind, distorting reality and fueling irrational fears. Like a tempestuous storm, it rages within, lightning crackling with envy, thunder rumbling with resentment. It paints the world in hues of green, tarnishing every joyous moment with a bitter aftertaste.

And then his heart sunk into the depths of his dark soul when he saw them walk in hand in hand. That was the first time Y/N had walked into a room and not looked for him, he noticed. She was laughing at something Sturmhond had said as they walked up the stairs until they reached the door of Y/N's room. He kissed her hand and she kissed his cheek.

The privateer then walked down the stairs, noticing Kaz staring.

"She's one of a kind, that one... Might stay a bit more after the job's done. See you tomorrow, Brekker"

The feeling was now leaving an empty, bottomless void in his soul. He bottomed his shot glass then poured another one.

˚ · • . °

Time kept ticking and the void intensified, but Kaz learnt how to deal with it.

He learnt how to deal with it when he kissed her after the job was done.

He learnt how to deal with it when Y/N took a break from the crows to leave with him for six months.

He learnt how to deal with it when she returned from her trip, beautiful tan skin and a diamond on her finger.

He learnt how to deal with it when he saw her crying herself to sleep because she missed him.

He learnt how to deal with it when she left for good.

He learnt how to deal with it when she was named queen of Ravka.

Kaz just learnt how to live with the shame and regret of not recognizing that the one thing he needed was right in front of him, hoping she'd have a place next to him.

˚ · • . ° .

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed:) I'm actually sorry for this one...

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

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delcakoo · 2 years

Text

behind the net!┊nishimura riki

SYNOPSIS ! expecting a suspension at most after punching your friend’s bully, you found yourself being assigned as the new boys soccer team manager. not only did you know absolutely nothing about sports, but you now had to deal with nishimura riki, the team’s star winger, absolutely hating your guts. you’d never believe someone if they told you you’d soon be enjoying your new role as manager, and dating nishimura riki, all in the same month.

PAIRING ! soccerplayer!nishimura riki x manager!f!reader

WC ! 9.8k

GENRE ! e2l, high school au, fluff, slight angst

WARNINGS ! yn punches someone, you also get punched and knocked out, lmk if there’s more

a/n: hi loves! keep in mind this is my first long lengthed fic, so it may not be perfect. i still had fun with it though, so bare with me as i learn and experiment! i hope you enjoy soccer player niki as he took me lots of time and preparing <3

choi beomgyu talks too much.

you don’t know if you’d consider the puppy-faced boy a friend; the only time you get to see him is near the end of lunch break at his locker which is found right next to yours, yet somehow, he manages to tell you all the gossip around the school in those few minutes of grabbing supplies for next period. today seemed to be no different.

“—i swear i saw them making out in the boy’s bathroom, but you didn’t hear that from me. anyways, did you know that kim jisoo from the grade above us is leaving? i knew her parents were like, having some issues n’ stuff, but apparently..”

sometimes, you just have to tune choi beomgyu out. occasionally, you offer a quick ‘mhm’ or ‘wow’ to ensure him you’re absolutely enthralled by his stories, even though in reality you’d rather be sticking a kazoo up your ear.

“—so yeah, i just feel bad for her. oh,” beomgyu pauses his movements in his locker, strangely focused on something to his right. “looks like chelsea’s messing with byeol again.”

“mhm,” you add absentmindedly, shoving your binder under your arm.

wait, what did choi beomgyu just say?

you snap your head to your locker buddy, frantically walking around him to follow his gaze. “hold on, what?”

byeol has been your best friend since you both met in the school’s photography club. you always had each other’s back, it was known to everyone that the two of you were close by the way you were almost always found together at breaks. however, you couldn’t always be there for byeol. your friend has been getting harassed by this ‘chelsea’ chick for weeks, all because byeol had submitted a photo to the school newspaper where she was in the background, making a rather unattractive face.

no matter how many times byeol apologized for the mistake, chelsea refused to forgive her for ‘ruining her high status’ around school. petty insults in the halls, taking revenge pictures of her in class, pushing disguised as ‘friendly nudges’,and much more were daily occurrences you had to witness your poor friend go through.

“why can’t you just report her?” you had asked one day.

“because y/n. snitches get stitches, everyone knows that.”

well, it definitely seemed like she was going to be getting stitches, snitching or not. you could barely make out byeol’s chestnut brown hair pressed against a locker, chelsea standing menacingly in front of her. other students were slowly forming an audience around the two, some pulling out their phones and whispering to their friends. you quickly readjusted the books in your arms, speed walking over to the girls.

“oh, bye y/n!” beomgyu calls from somewhere in the background, cluelessly unaware of the fuming expression slowly creeping up your face.

by the time you reach your best friend, chelsea has her nailed to the locker, repeatedly pushing her into it. “seriously, you’re so pathetic!” she barks, “can’t even fight back, god.”

your jaw ticks, throwing your stuff to the ground to make your presence known. when byeol notices you, she gasps, frantically throwing her hands up. “y/n! i-i can explain—“ you gently move her to the side, walking up to chelsea, and before you stop to think about the consequences, throw a solid punch to her chin.

gasps and screams circulate the halls as the students watch you glare down at your classmate who has now fallen to the ground from your jab. chelsea lets out a strangled cry, hiding her face and cradling her slowly bruising chin in her hand. “what the hell, y/n! why would you do that?!” byeol yelps to your emotionless face, shaking your shoulder.

satisfied, you grab byeol’s wrist, dragging her next to you to pick up your stuff. you ignore the many recording phones following your steps, focusing on the floor tiles in front of you. “c’mon bee, we have chemistry.”

byeol nearly trips trying to keep up with your pace, gawking at your side profile in utter shock. “h-hey! don’t call me that cute name after you just punched someone! and not just anyone, y/n. that was kim chelsea, you do know that right you crazy idiot!? you might get suspended!”

you finally let out a sigh, looking at the girl blankly as you continue walking to your class as if nothing happened. “what was i supposed to do, byeol? watch my best friend let herself get walked on like every other day?”

“w-well, she had a reason this time. i forgot to buy her lunch.”

you scoff in disbelief, “nice one.”

“no, seriously, y/n! it’s my way of paying back for that awful picture in th—“

“in the newspaper,” you recite with a roll of your eyes, “from like three weeks ago! jesus, bee. nobody fucking cares anymore but her! she has no right to treat you like dogshit even when you’ve apologized a gazillion times now.”

byeol scratches her head nervously, staring down at her neatly strapped shoes. “was that really three weeks ago? aish,” she huffs.

L/N Y/N, PLEASE REPORT TO THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE IMMEDIATELY.

“oh no,” byeol mutters, suddenly reaching over and shaking both of your shoulders aggressively, “y/n you big nincompoop, look what you’ve done! if you get expelled i’m gonna be all alone in this hellhole!”

you giggle slightly, finding yourself a bit too calm even for your standards as you place your own hands on top of hers comfortingly. “don’t worry, i’m a top student, they wouldn’t do that. i’ll probably be back here in like, five minutes okay? there’s no punishment that can bother me.”

add that to the list of famous last words.

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“i never thought i’d see you here, miss l/n.” the principal sighs, watching you settle down in the chair across from her.

“i’m sorry,” you pause for a moment before correcting yourself, “i’m sorry for disappointing you, mrs. lee.”

the woman raises an eyebrow at that, calmly lacing her ring-attired fingers on her desk. “i see. so you’re not sorry to chelsea, who is currently getting treated by the school nurses?”

“no ma’am. i would never harm anybody without a good reason.” you choose your worlds carefully, as it is not your position to be the one to tattle on chelsea, no matter how much your desires tell you to. a picture of byeol flashes through your head. your poor, naive best friend. you think any punishment would be worth helping her.

the principal seems to catch your memo quickly, nodding in understanding. “i believe you, y/n, and i can trust that you understand what you did was wrong. however, a punch is a punch, and your actions have consequences.”

“i understand too, and i’m ready to take whatever it is,” you reply confidently, nodding to the older woman in anticipation.

at your words, mrs. lee reaches next to her and opens up a yellow portfolio, holding it tightly in her hands. “very well. i decided to hold off on a suspension, as luckily enough, there was something else that desperately required someone responsible, organized, and smart like you, dear.” you curiously raise an eyebrow at that, watching as she opens up the portfolio and slides it across the desk to you. “to atone for your incident with chelsea, you will become the new boys soccer team manager.”

you freeze, unable to comprehend what was just said. you were ready to clean the bathrooms for the next few months, have detention every day for the semester, maybe clean up the mess everyday in the cafeteria. there was no way you just heard what you thought you did. in a last ditch prayer, you swallow. “i-i’m sorry, what was that?“

you swear you see the evil woman’s lips quirk a bit in some kind of amusement. “you will be the new boys soccer team manager for the year. the season starts in only three weeks, and it’d be much too difficult for mr. kwang to run the team without any help.”

did she say the year? “but- but ma’am, i don’t know anything about soccer,” you exclaim desperately, examining the papers inside the portfolio. there were all sorts of criteria and things you’d be agreeing to if you signed the contract, including missing full school days to travel with the team and attend games. just the thought of missing class to watch a bunch of sweaty, teenage boys kick balls around made you sick to your stomach. perhaps punching kim chelsea wasn’t worth it after all (sorry byeol).

“you’ll learn quickly just like you do academically, dear. and anyway, you’ll mainly be doing other things like preparing advertisements for the team, organising games and practise dates, assisting the team members, and helping mr kwang with anything else he needs,” she lists off on her fingers, gesturing to the ballpoint pen in front of you as a reminder to get signing, as you didn’t exactly have another option.

organising games? preparing advertisements? and what did assisting the team members even mean? you didn’t want to know, or even hear the words ‘boys soccer team’ ever again. yet you found yourself picking up the pen, reluctantly scribbling down your now permanently inked signature onto the dreaded contract.

what on earth did you get yourself into?

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“you’re the new what?!” you quickly cover byeol’s mouth, hiding her lips from the apple juicebox now being choked in her grasp. the students around the cafeteria glance at the two of you suspiciously, especially curious after the whole chelsea affair.

you remove your hand to reach into your daily bag of animal crackers that you never forget to bring to school, munching away with a glare. “geez, we don’t need the whole school learning my dirty secret that fast.”

“dirty? y/n, don’t you get what this means!?” byeol inquires, looking somewhat envious as she sips her juicebox. you give her a strange look, languidly reaching for your water bottle. “for the whole school year, you get to not only watch, but hang out and talk with the hottest boys in the school! punching chelsea is the best thing you’ve ever done!”

you ponder for a moment, contemplating her words with another handful of crackers. “okay, but it’s not just hot guys, bee. i have to organise and attend every one of their dumb little ball games which also means missing whole school days.” byeol doesn’t seem phased by your response before you add the next part. “and, i probably won’t have time for photography club anymore.”

she deflates at that, reaching her hand into your bag to steal a few crackers for herself. “now that does suck. promise you’ll still try to come to some meetings?”

“no promises.”

her face suddenly brightens again comically, wiggling her eyebrows. “oh and, you have to introduce me to park sunghoon. well actually— introduce me to all of them. but especially park sunghoon!”

you sigh, lazily throwing your now empty cracker bag into the garbage, “you’re too good for those out of control jocks, bee.

byeol quirks her eyebrows to you, pushing her hair back. “we’ll see about that when you end up falling for one of those soccer boys. it’s inescapable being with those handsome faces all year.”

“i’m slightly offended that you think this lowly of me.”

your best friend stands up from the cafeteria bench, giving her juicebox one last, dramatic sip. “fine, but when you do fall in love, remember this conversation!”

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two days after signing your life away to the soccer team would be your first day meeting them. you were to be at the school’s field right after dismissal for practise, 3:15 sharp. your backpack was all ready, prepared with absolutely anything you may need: a water bottle in case mr kwang decides to make you do any sort of physical activity, your animal crackers (obviously), a flashlight since you weren’t exactly sure how late you’d be at practise, your camera to take pictures for photography club, and much more.

this didn’t exactly mean you were ready though. you had absolutely no idea what you were supposed to do, there was no team manager training courses. and not only were you going to be inspected like a piece of meat by a bunch of attractive boys, but you also had to watch them play soccer all afternoon.

with a million thoughts going through your mind, you make your way closer to the soccer field than you’ve ever been in your life, pushing open the black gate surrounding the perimeter. for whatever reason, there were rows and rows of girls in the bleachers watching the boys practise, all giving you angry, disapproving looks as you step onto the field. the grass is fake, you realise, noticing the bits of black tires hidden in the plastic turf. you’re going to love finding those in every crevice of your poor shoes. when you look up, heat rushes to your cheeks as you meet the eyes of practically the entire soccer team on you, probably wondering why on earth some random girl with a backpack bigger than her has just walked onto their home field.

you scan your eyes over the team, finding a few familiar faces. #19 was sim jaehyun, or jake, who was known for being an absolute playboy, yet still managed to pull a new girl each week. he was quite funny though, you could appreciate his jokes even from afar in class.

when #12 turns around, you immediately recognise the handsome profile of park sunghoon. not only did he play soccer, but he was an amazing figure skater, or so you heard. byeol would probably faint at the sight of him now, dripping with sweat despite practise starting only minutes prior.

that’s definitely lee heeseung, you notice his pink hair miles away paired with his #20 jersey. he was amazing at everything, academic wise he was another top student, yet he still somehow made time to be in almost every sports team the school had to offer, also placing as one of the best players. you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a big role on this team as well.

out of the corner of your eye, you notice a pale boy with black, curly hair staring daggers into your side, soccer ball held between his fingers tightly. when you turn your gaze towards him, he stubbornly whips back around. #10, nishimura, his jersey reads.

“ah, right on time as expected, y/n!” at their coaches loud voice, the team gets even more interested, pausing their movements with the balls at their cleats.

“oh no, another chick from the nerd emporium.” you hear park jay mutter with his hands on his hips.

“i don’t mind the journal club girls. they always get flustered so easily, it’s hilarious. and look, at least she’s pretty cute,” jake shrugs back.

you hold in the urge to roll your eyes, grinning as mr. kwang shakes your hand. “it’s nice to finally meet you,” you chirped.

“no, no! the pleasure is all mine. we’re going to have such a fun year together,” he chortles, bringing you right to the middle of the field. the sudden, loud screech of a whistle makes you jump slightly, observing cautiously as the boys run over like a bunch of herded sheep. they messily form in a line, a few of them mischievously bumping each other's shoulders before they notice your presence, slowly looking you up and down. you gulp. one thing byeol was right about was that they were all hot. and very sweaty.

some of the boys offer you little waves, which you softly offer in return. a few of them smile at you or offer a quick nod when your eyes meet, crossing their arms tightly over the school’s purple jerseys. the nishimura boy from earlier though, looks at you with a bored, almost angry frown, finding the turf more interesting than anything you have to offer.

you don’t get a chance to wonder why when mr. kwang suddenly wraps a big arm around your shoulder. “boys, meet the new member of our team!”

it was silent for a moment, the team all exchanging weird looks. “coach, it’s just another journal club article, right?” a shorter boy with bright red hair and cat-like features asks.

“not quite, captain.” at the nickname, you glance at the bright yellow pad on the red haired boy’s arm. it didn’t take a genius to figure out he must be the team’s captain. “this is l/n y/n, our new team manager!”

“what?” nishimura speaks for the first time, his face finally sparking with some emotion, though he didn’t sound too pleased.

“she’s our manager?” jake points to you with an amused giggle.

mr. kwang proudly ruffles your head, promptly destroying your once tidy hairstyle. “you betcha, sim! for the rest of the year too, so get used to her being around. now, i need to get her organised. keep doing those drills!” he blows the whistle around his neck again, watching as all the boys quickly jog back to their positions. though, you can still feel most of their eyes on your back as you walk over to the bench with their coach.

“so, y/n. i know you don’t exactly want to be here.” when he sees you try to speak up in defense, he raises a hand. “it’s okay, my feelings aren’t hurt.” you both laugh, sitting and watching the boys train around the field. “it’s just, i think you might find yourself enjoying this job if you really give them a try.”

you rest your face on your hand, giving his words a thought. “maybe. it’s just, this is all a bit overwhelming, y’know?”

mr kwang pats your shoulder, “of course it is, and that’s okay. but i’m sure with a few weeks, you’ll get the hang of things and find yourself enjoying it out here on the field! just give the team a chance and make the best out of your new family, okay?” you offer a small nod, watching as he pulls a white whistle and a clipboard out of his duffel bag. “consider this my welcome gift to you,” he announces proudly, offering the items to you.

you quickly take them, looking at the man in surprise. “oh, thank you sir! what’s the whistle for?”

“anytime you need to get their attention, of course,” mr kwang winks, gesturing to the boys. “it’s pretty fun watching them run over to you like a bunch of dogs playing fetch, you’ll see for yourself shortly.” suddenly, he gets up, seemingly remembering something important. “oh, and come with me, dear!”

you swiftly get up to follow him into what seems to be the team’s locker room, throwing your new whistle around your neck in the process. it’s not very tidy; random pairs of knee pads and socks are scattered around the room carelessly, and multiple shorts and jerseys almost make a trail leading all the way to the showers nearby. not to mention it reeked of sweat, and well, teenage boys. mr. kwang quickly notices the disgusted crinkles on your face, laughing out an apology on behalf of the mess.

though your expression quickly turns to one of shock when he continues past the locker rooms and through the hall that leads to two black doors. one reading ‘coach kwang’ and the other reading ‘manager’. the inside was just as surprising, gasping as he ushers you into a neatly organised office with multiple, tidy shelves and a big desk. “what the- is this for me?” you mutter in denial, gripping your clipboard tighter.

mr. kwang smiles, offering you a key attached to a purple lanyard. “yes of course! there is going to be quite a lot of work when it comes to organising the team’s events and advertising games, so this is just a private space that can always be available if needed.”

“thank you so much, i’ll use it well!” you bow gratefully. wait until byeol hears about all this, she’s definitely going to want to see for herself.

after mr kwang led you around the rest of the building and fed you helpful advice along the way, the both of you ended up back outside where the boys seemed to be having a water break.

“there they are!” a cute blonde haired boy you recall as sunoo sings, making the rest of the team’s heads turn to see you.

heeseung is the first to walk up to you, offering his sweaty hand out politely. “it’s nice to meet you, manager,” he says smugly, smirking down at you.

you offer him a challenging tilt of your head, shaking his hand firmly. “you too, lee heeseung.” you do your best to keep up a cool exterior, even though you’re slightly freaking out on the inside from all the attention. this was completely different to the feeling of all the eyes after punching chelsea; it felt more like you were being inspected piece by piece, especially by the nishimura boy, who’s sitting cross legged on the ground with his waterbottle. you’re yet to find out his first name, but you had a feeling he had no interest in telling you by the icy glare he throws your way.

what on earth have you ever done to him? you don’t think you even have a single class with the boy, not to mention speaking to him.

“manager,” sim jake calls out your new nickname cockily, pushing his hair back. “out of all of us, who’s the most attractive?”

out of pure instinct, your eyes travel to nishimura for a split second, quickly looking back to jake. damn it, y/n! what was that? out of all the boys, you choose the one that hates you? it was already too late, as the rest of the boys immediately followed your split second glance to their teammate. “niki? seriously manager, i’m way better looking than him,” sunghoon remarks disapprovingly.

you hurriedly raise your hands in defense, “wh-what? i never said i chose him!”

nishimura — or niki — seems almost repulsed by the discussion at hand, still refusing to even look at you as he gives his teammates a disgusted look.

“cute,” jay laughs along with a few others at the growing blush on your cheeks, sipping his water.

suddenly, the red headed captain lets out a sigh, reaching over to pat your shoulder. “you idiots are scaring her, shut up.” he suddenly leans closer to you, warm breath fanning your ear. “welcome to the team. i’m the captain, yang jungwon. i hope we can be friends.” he smirks slightly at the redness of your face before backing up again, and it makes you question if he really feels sympathy for you.

honestly, what was even happening anymore? were you in a drama? a romance webtoon? you originally insisted you were never one to fall for such charms, yet here you were, a flustered mess over a few pretty faces. “uh-“ you gulp, “it’s nice to meet you too— all of you. i’ll do my best to help the team.”

“how’d you become our manager anyway?” heeseung questions, a few of the boys nodding in agreement. at this, niki’s head raises in interest for the first time, awaiting your response carefully.

you swallow nervously, unsure if you should tell them the truth. if they were going to be your ‘family’, you might as well show some honesty. “well uh, no offense, but i’m not here because i want to be. i know nothing about soccer,” you begin.

niki scoffs at that, rolling his eyes, “of course you don’t.” he only glares coldly when jake elbows his side.

“i’m here as a punishment. for-“ you look down, feeling embarrassment about what you did for the first time all because of niki’s scrutiny. “for punching kim chelsea.” sounds of surprise circle the team at your confession, and you watch in worry as niki’s jaw clenches, his fists tightening at his sides as if he’s holding himself back.

do.. niki and chelsea know each other?

“that was you!?” jungwon gasps, nervously checking on his younger, black haired friend. he then walks over to him and whispers something into his ear, soothingly patting his back.

“no way,” jake mutters.

your eyebrows furrow, finally making eye contact with niki for the first time with a sudden urge to defend yourself, “i didn’t do it for fun! i—“

“just be quiet,” niki spits, throwing his blue hoodie and bag over his shoulder before walking off the field, away from the team without another word.

“yah, nishimura! get your ass back here and apologize!” jay barks with no result.

“there’s still twenty minutes of practise, bro!” sunghoon adds.

jungwon only sighs, looking at you pitifully. “sorry about him, it’s.. it’s a long story. i think you two should figure it out alone.”

“i only punched chelsea to defend my friend, who she’s been bullying for weeks straight,” you finish saying what niki didn’t let you, frustratedly pushing your hair back.

the boys seemed flabbergasted by this discovery, exchanging shocked glances. “yeah, you really gotta talk to him,” jake acknowledges.

day one as the soccer team manager, and you think you’d rather be dead.

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the news of your recently gained title spread like wildfire around school by the next morning. not only were random girls asking you for information about the team members all day, but the boys themselves constantly waved or said hi to you in the halls, earning you a handful of jealous glares from said girls.

you nearly choke in confusion when you open your locker to see about twenty letters piled up in a small mountain, some decorated to grab your attention and stand out more than the rest. you cautiously look around for a moment before grabbing one of the letters, opening it up carefully.

dearest y/n (aka the manager),

i know you don’t know me, but i have handwritten this letter in search of desperate help regarding yang jungwon. what is he like with his friends? does he smell good? he’s an amazing captain to his team, right? please, i have to know what i need to do to reach his heart. shall i prepare flowers and a teddy bear? some new cleats? please send advice, i need to get him to notice me.

sincerely, yang rei.

jesus christ. was this seriously what all these letters were for? you’ve only spent a day with the team so far, and this was the result? how were you supposed to know if jungwon preferred flowers or cleats?

“y/n!” as if your morning couldn’t get worse, the biggest yapper himself, choi beomgyu appears out of thin air. “i heard you’ve been assigned the boys soccer team manager after you got in trouble with the principal for punching-“

“hi beomgyu. yep, thanks for the summary.” you cut in, smiling passive aggressively.

the brown haired boy doesn’t get the memo, smiling back enthusiastically while raising a nosy eyebrow at your letter tower. “you sure are popular now, huh? what’s with all the letters?”

none of your business, choi beomgyu. “yeah, i kinda have a fanclub now.” technically, that wasn’t a lie. in your peripheral vision, a familiar nest of black curls walks by, the same blue hoodie from practice thrown over his uniform. nishimura riki. for some strange reason, you feel a sweep of butterflies rush through you at the sight of the boy who would probably rather spend his time with a wet sock than with you.

‘remember this conversation when you fall in love!’ the teasing voice of byeol snaps you out of your trance, slamming your locker shut and rushing to catch up with him.

“bye, y/n!” beomgyu says in the background once again. his dumb voice truly sounds like deja vu, instead you might be the one getting punched this time around with the face niki makes when he sees you walking next to him.

“the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarls, speeding up his pace in an attempt to lose you.

“listen, i don’t know why you care about chelsea so much,” shit! why did you start with mentioning her of all things? niki immediately growls in annoyance, purposely pushing through groups of people in the halls. you run to catch up to him, apologising to the students you nudge along the way. “but- but you need to let me explain.”

“get away from me. i don’t need to be seen with someone who hurt my friend out of jealousy,” he states firmly.

you freeze, looking at his expressionless side profile. “jealousy? what are you even talking about? just let me tell you my side. please, niki.”

without even considering your offer or sparing a glance, niki enters his classroom, slamming the door right on your face.

“what the fuck!” you curse furiously under your breath. making a fool out of yourself just for some dumb soccer boy’s approval? what’s your pathetic reputation come to?

no. if nishimura riki wants to try and hate you that bad, then so be it. but you’ll never be one to turn down a challenge.

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niki hates the fact that through his whole history class, he’s too busy thinking about l/n y/n to process anything that’s being taught. he has never been so interested in a girl before, definitely not someone like you who he was supposed to hate. for some reason, he didn’t like when you laughed and high fived his teammates in the hallways. he didn’t like how you now sat next to jungwon in maths, and he had to deal with seeing you guys whisper in each others ears for the whole hour. and in the hallways just now? you looked so cute running to catch up to him, so desperate to try and get his attention.

guilt rushes through him for thinking of you in such a way. no! that is not why he’s thinking about you. you’re not cute at all.

but what did you want to explain? why you punched one of his closest friends? he already knew everything, chelsea wouldn’t lie to him, right?

he recalls rushing into the school nursing room when he heard what’d happened, wanting to check on his friend. “geez, it’s bruising bad. did you accidentally bite your lip when it happened?” he had asked worriedly, cupping chelsea’s chin as if she were a fragile vase.

she sniffles, holding his wrist in her grip tightly. “mhm, it hurts so bad, ki.”

niki frowns, biting his lip. in his opinion, his friend’s being in pain was more painful than if it was his own. anger flows through him as he continues to inspect the girl’s wound. “who did this?”

“l/n y/n,” she doesn’t hesitate even a bit, eyes turning to slits, “it-it’s cause she’s jealous of me i guess. she always hated me for my looks, i don’t know.”

and ever since that day, niki had gone on a mission to find l/n y/n.

yet the minute he saw you walk on that field with your dumb, giant backpack, he knew he would never be able to punch you back.

niki groans, ruffling his black locks with his free hand while wondering how on earth to get you out of his head.

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two practises until the season begins and surprisingly, you were getting along with the boys well (apart from a certain someone). you’ve learned a few important things about not only the team members, but also soccer itself: heeseung usually plays a position called striker, which is the highest position on the field and the most common spot for scoring goals. niki and jake were the main left and right wingers, and are usually the ones assisting heeseung in scoring. jungwon explained to you how nobody stays on the field for too long, everyone gets breaks by subbing for each other on and off the bench. you were pretty proud of your growing knowledge of the sport considering you started from nothing, and you were even more excited to show the team what you’d been working on.

ignoring the daily glares of the female spectators on the bleachers, you trail onto the field and over to where the boys are practising. “manager!” jake waves at the sight of you, a big, goofy smile growing on his face. at your nickname, the rest of the boys look up, waving to you as well. niki simply stares at you, rolling his eyes stubbornly.

“hi, y/n!” jungwon greets, kicking the ball at his feet over to you.

you yelp, nearly stumbling over it. “yah, i’m not your teammate!” you awkwardly do your best to boot it back in his general direction, luring an amused chuckle out of the captain. anyone could tell sports were not your thing by that single interaction. “anyways, all of you c’mere.” for the fun of it, you demandingly blow your whistle along the way.

“i think we heard you just fine,” jay teases, watching you set your backpack down on the bench.

sunghoon sighs, crossing his arms. “you know how she gets with the whistle. it’s almost as scary as mr. kwang when someone forgets to turn the showers off.”

“very funny,” you pout, pulling out your clipboard along with a bag of animal crackers.

“so what’re we all here for,” heeseung inquires, “an animal cracker mukbang?” a few snickers are heard around the team as some boys decide to take a seat on the turf.

“geez, you guys are so impatient. here,” you show them the papers you’ve printed, proudly gesturing for jungwon to pass them around.

“what’s this— wait,” jungwon’s eyes widen, scanning the documents over. “y/n, is- aren’t these players from the team we’re going against for our first game?

you smirk, shoving a handful of crackers into your mouth. “yep, spent a few hours researching all about ‘em. their most probable starting lineup, goalie’s weak spots, each players positions and things to watch out for, and more. all on those papers.”

“that’s our manager!” a new voice praises. mr kwang looks pleased as he walks over, placing a hand on your shoulder happily. “very well done, y/n. this will be a big help when planning our strategy.”

“holy shit, this is insane,” jay mutters, flipping through the pages slowly. even niki has nothing to complain about, studying them over his hyung’s shoulder.

“language, and that’s enough. all of you back to your drills! let’s go!” mr. kwang barks, blowing his whistle and winking at you as all the boys practically sprint back to their spots in fear.

the next half an hour you spend writing stats about each of the boys and how they’re playing during practice. every once in a while, one of them will jog over to the bench and you’ll hand them their water bottle, all while stuffing your face with animal crackers (jake stole a few at one point, and you were not pleased).

“water,” a deep voice mumbles. you pause your writing to look up and find niki staring down at you, uniform drenched in sweat and exhaustion.

he looks like an angel, skin glistening beautifully under the sun as he pushes his moist bangs away from his forehead. for a moment, you just admire him, mouth parted slightly. “geez, get a hold of yourself.” he impatiently makes his way behind you to where the water bottles are, chugging down the refreshment obnoxiously. it almost feels like he’s showing off now, purposely throwing his head back and displaying his adam’s apple as it bobs after every sip.

niki catches your spying as he finishes the drink, scoffing in amusement. “why don’t you take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

you gulp, sheepishly looking back down at your clipboard. “i wasn’t looking at you.”

“mhm. you have crumbs on your lips by the way,” he comments. you lift a hand to try and wipe them off, but to no avail according to the annoyed look niki sends your way. he rolls his eyes, walking over and bending down in front of you.

oh god, this was bad, very bad. why is he so close? his moles are even more endearing up front, and you can feel his breath fan your face as he lifts a hand to your lips, slowly wiping the crumbs off with his thumb. “need me to do everything for you? i thought you’re my manager.” heat rushes to your cheeks, unable to form a reply.

and with that, niki turns around, walking away as if nothing happened.

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the next few days flew by with little difficulty— or at least, in the nishimura riki department. you decided to not confront him about his stunt at last practise, but that wasn’t fully your choice; you’ve been discovering the hard way that trying to balance school and being a team manager was like trying to play two instruments at the same time. first you’d have your classes full of new assignments, then you stay after school to get manager work done, and then you go straight from your office to the library to study, and by the time you get home it’s already dark and dinner is left cold on the counter for you.

byeol was not happy with your newly packed schedule either, especially now that photography club was out of the question. but there was no time to worry about your friend now, practise was starting in five minutes and your precious animal crackers were nowhere to be found. the search to find the snack would be much easier if there weren’t hundreds of letters stuffed in your poor locker daily. you were seriously getting sick of throwing out notes asking what perfume park sunghoon used.

“y/n.” that voice sounded awfully, unpleasantly familiar. you whip around from your locker, locking eyes with a frowning kim chelsea.

your eyebrows furrow, inspecting the bruise on her chin. “chelsea.”

she seems to get even angrier at your nonchalant response, eye twitching as she reaches out to shove you against your open locker, making the letters inside sprinkle to the ground. your right shoulder slams against your locker shelf, making you hiss out in pain. “seriously, you want to do this again?” you snarl, now holding your aching shoulder.

“how the hell did you become their manager?” chelsea barks, throwing punch after punch in your direction. her throwing speed clearly isn’t very promising, as it takes you no effort to dodge out of the way before every strike. “yah, tell me!” she screams, moving back as you try to grab her wrists and calm her down.

what’s with the deja vu? students have formed around the both of you again, pulling out their phones and calling their friends over. you swear you can see beomgyu’s fluffy brown hair in the crowd, but he doesn’t look very excited by the fight. he looks almost.. worried for you.

while you’re distracted, chelsea rips her hand away from your restraint, landing a solid punch to your jaw. ouch. as soon as the contact is made, the room starts spinning. it seems you’ve fallen to the ground by the blurry groups of students looking down at you. for some reason, you can’t hear their screams much, almost like you’re underwater. the lights are extra bright now, and everything just keeps twirling around like a beyblade until it all goes black. wait.. is that byeol? you recognise her chocolate hair even if it’s unclear and fuzzy. and hold on.. wasn’t that niki who was kneeling down next to you..? you’re too lightheaded to know for sure.

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ah, so this is what kim chelsea felt like only a few days prior. your lips were dry and chapped, and you felt like you’ve slept for a week straight. there’s a screaming ache on your right shoulder, and your jaw hurts every time you open your mouth.

oh right, you were shoved. and punched. by kim chelsea.

you smack your lips, pushing yourself up from the school clinic’s bed to find byeol on her phone, kicking her feet in the air like a child next to you. she gasps when she notices your movements, rushing over to your side. “you’re awake! you were out for a whole two hours you big, stupid, idiot.”

you chuckle at her relentless insults, pulling your friend in for a much needed hug. “thanks for staying with me. and what do you mean? this time it was all chelsea.”

“i know, i know, but you always find a way to make me worried! can’t you go just one week without getting in a fight?” byeol complains, reaching down to hold your hand in hers.

“sorry, bee.” shit, realization hits you like lightning. “wait, i missed soccer practise! that was the last practise before our first game this week, and i had so much planned for training and—“

byeol squeezes your hand, laughing at your strange choice of priorities. “y/n, calm down. you literally have injuries all over you, why are you worried about the soccer team? i’m sure they’ll be fine.” byeol suddenly smirks, as if she knows something you don’t. “speaking of, this one black haired boy seemed really worried about you. after he yelled at chelsea for a bit, he piggybacked you all the way here.”

“seriously?” your eyes widen. niki helped you?

byeol nods in confirmation. “i went too, of course! i was like, the most worried about you. just for the record, i was much, much more worried than your boyfriend.” you smack the girl’s arm, making her let out a mischievous snicker. “but yeah. along the way he asked me a bit about what happened, so i told him how chelsea was well- making me buy her lunch and constantly pushing me—“

“bullying you,” you correct sternly.

“yeah,” your friend gulps. “which is why you punched her n’ all that. then he went really quiet. also, he wanted to stay with you but he had practice.”

you sigh. while you made it out with a bruising jaw and sore shoulder, at least niki knows the truth. for some reason, you find yourself beaming at the thought (then proceeding to hiss in pain at the ache in your jaw).

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four days after chelsea (who hasn’t been seen since) punched you was the next time you saw niki. your shoulder had healed completely, while your jaw was still getting there in due time. over the four days, you’ve been putting up the advertisements you and byeol proudly made to bring in more people to the upcoming game, sticking them to the walls all around school.

“y/n!” for the first time since you’ve met him, niki says your name with an adorable smile on his face. though you were a bit confused, your heart can’t help but beat loudly at his cute expression. he jogs over to you, cheekily throwing an arm around your shoulder. “what’re you doing?”

how could this be the same boy who was so cold to you days prior? “oh, so we’re friends now?” you ask, half serious.

niki swallows, turning his gaze away from you. “look. i’m- i’m really sorry for not giving you a chance to tell your side of the story and being well, a dick. i really should’ve heard you out before treating you like that.”

you nod in approval, looking back down to tape another advertisement to the wall. “it’s okay, practises will be much less tense now without you staring holes into the back of my head.” when you don’t get a response, you open your mouth to speak before you're suddenly pushed against the wall, arms caging you on either sides of your head by the taller boy.

he has a small, cocky smirk on his face at your dumbfounded expression when he leans closer. “y/n?”

your swear your chest is going to explode, butterflies running wild at the sight of niki’s face being only inches from yours. thank god the hallway was empty, or the blush on your cheeks would only get much worse. “ye-yeah?”

he tilts his head, looking down at you with an unreadable glint. “out of curiosity, do you still think i’m the hottest on my team?”

seriously? what kind of question is that?! you do your best to stay calm, turning your head away from him nervously. “uh— maybe,” you mumble.

niki doesn’t seem to approve of your answer, bringing a hand to pull your chin back towards him. you swear you see his eyes flicker down to your lips for a second, but they’re back to staring straight into your soul before you can act on it. “maybe?“

you know what he wants to hear. “fine. yes i do, idiot. happy?”

“very. i knew you had a crush on me.”he grins smugly, releasing you from the wall as if nothing happened.

“wh- i didn’t say that!” you blush more realizing that you never denied his claim.

niki seems to catch on to this as well, snickering under his breath. “want some help with those?” he gestures to the posters.

that’s how you ended up spending another thirty minutes running around school with niki, laughing and talking as you put up his game’s advertisements.

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niki tunes out the constant bickering of the boys circulating the changeroom, focusing on tying his cleats. it was finally game day, and he was more than ready to show off in front of you be back on the field with his teammates. it was a home game, so niki had the advantage of being able to start warming up earlier while their opponents were busy driving here. he wondered what you were thinking, probably on the way to the field now. were you excited? did you want to watch him play? were you planning to cheer for him?

suddenly, he’s been smacked on the head with something hard. “ow! what the hell, bro?” he looks down to see the weapon of choice, jake’s knee pad.

“we’ve been trying to get your attention, but you were too busy having your little main character moment.” jay sniggers with a few others, tying on his own cleats.

niki rubs the spot he was hit, cursing. “the fuck are you talking about?”

“don’t try to act all innocent,” sunghoon smirks, pulling off his t-shirt to change into his jersey. “i caught you two lovebirds putting up those posters, giggling and flirting in your own little world~”

niki feels his cheeks heat up slightly, shyly looking back down at his cleats. damn it, how the hell did he not catch sunghoon spying on the both of you? “we weren’t flirting,” he mutters defensively.

“mhm, not even when you pinned her to the wall like in some cringy kdrama?”

jungwon gawks in surprise, “our little niki did what?!”

“with his hands next to her head n’ everything. i’m so proud,” sunghoon laughs teasingly, ruffling the boy’s hair.

niki only groans, hiding his face in his hands shyly. “do you guys ever shut the fuck up?”

“you love us.”

jake wiggles his eyebrows, “true, but he loves y/n more.”

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you cheerily skip over to the soccer field, humming to the song blasting through your earbuds. ‘it’s more than like, L 다음 또 O 다음 난 yeah! you and i, it’s more than like, what’s after like?’ only moments later you end up turning off your music, as it’s overthrown by the sound of screaming and cheering from the bleachers. there was no school today in celebration of the first soccer game of the season, explaining the rows and rows of students holding signs up and taking pictures. some have jerseys that they’ve bought from the concession, and you send a harsh glare to one girl with niki’s name on hers.

“y/n!” you know that voice anywhere, searching the crowd before finding byeol waving to you, holding a sign with your name on it. it has hearts and little stars all around it, messily colored in with shades of pink and red.

classic byeol, you snicker. “yah, what is that? i’m not the one playing!” you yell over the cheers, secretly feeling your heart burst from adoration.

she smirks proudly, blowing a kiss to you. “i know, i’m only here for you though.”

before you can reply, two arms abruptly pull you backwards into a sturdy chest, warm breath heating your earlobe. “should i be worried about her stealing you from me?”

you turn around in the embrace to find niki smirking down at you, dressed in his black shorts and purple jersey. from the bleachers behind, you hear a few surprised gasps and angry whispers. you raise an eyebrow, “and when did i give you permission to own me in the first place?”

niki grows his signature smirk again, pulling you tighter against his body. “when you admitted to having a crush on me.”

“damn, that was good,” you hear byeol say somewhere in the background.

you scoff, pushing him away (mostly because if you stayed that close to him any longer you’d inevitably explode) and dragging him back to his team, who seems to be in the middle of doing a stretch led by heeseung.

“manager!” sunghoon and jay both grin, eyes narrowing down on your hand intertwined with niki’s.

jungwon easily notices too, but doesn’t comment on it, only smiling cutely as usual. “hi y/n!”

“hey, you guys ready to win?” you grin, releasing niki’s hand to pull out your clipboard. the boy pouts at the loss of contact, reluctantly jogging over to his team to continue stretching.

“never been readier.” jake sighs, completely confident and relaxed.

“great, then let’s do attendance.” you click the back of your pen, beginning to call out the names of every player. “heeseung?”

“here,” he quickly replies as you check off his name.

thankfully, every player on the team seemed to be present as you continued down the list. “and lastly, sunoo.”

“here!”

“perfect,” you praise. something felt wrong, though. like.. something or someone was missing despite the flawless attendance.

“hey guys,” heeseung uttered, watching the opposing team make their way onto the field. “the game starts in five minutes and coach kwang still isn’t here.”

at the striker’s words, everyone frantically looks around, realisation hitting. “shit, you’re right! how did we not notice he was missing before?” jay exclaims.

niki looks at you with desperate eyes. “if we don’t have a coach, doesn’t that mean we have to..”

you gulp, nodding in confirmation. “forfeit.”

“what? it’s the first fucking game of the season, we can’t,” jake wails, ruffling his hair anxiously.

luck clearly wasn’t on your side, as the referee begins making his way over, holding his whistle sternly. “we’re ready to begin, where’s the coach?” he asks, closely scanning his eyes over your team.

the boys all look around awkwardly before jungwon steps up as captain. “uh, we’re actually still waiting for him, sir. do you think we can get an extra few minutes?”

the referee sighs, glancing at his watch. “you have five minutes.”

so you waited. one minute became two, two became four, until time was already up. mr. kwang was nowhere to be found, and you were stressed, so stressed that not even your animal crackers could calm you down. niki laid across the bench, head in your lap with his eyes closed. you massage his scalp, playing with his curly locks in an attempt to calm yourself down while the rest of the boys make themselves busy picking at the turf or lazily dribbling a ball around.

the referee starts making his way back over to you, checking his watch once again. “time’s up. do you have a coach, or are you forfeiting?”

as jungwon opens his mouth to announce the team’s surrender, niki shoots up from his spot on your lap. “we have a coach,” he states confidently. everyone whips their heads over to the boy, watching as he points to you with full determination. “she’s our coach.”

jake and sunghoon burst into laughter, while the others exchange mixed expressions. meanwhile, you’re having a mini panic attack, staring daggers into the side of the boy’s skull. niki expects you to pretend to be a coach? being manager was hard enough, you knew absolutely nothing about coaching! mr. kwang, why are you doing this to me?

“ma’am, is this true?” it was clear the referee was a bit unsure and judging you (which was fair considering you looked more like one of the boy’s nerdy little sister if anything), but there wasn’t much he could do without proof.

you glance at niki, instantly giving in when you see his puppy eyes. “y-yes, i’m their coach.”

“alright then, please send your starting lineup onto the field.”

the millisecond the referee has gained enough distance, the team lets out a synchronized sigh of relief. “i hope you guys know what you’re doing, or this is going to be a disaster,” you scold specifically niki, running a stressed hand through your hair.

“don’t worry manager, we got this under control!” jake chirps, happily running onto the field with the rest of the team following close behind.

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you don’t know how you’re going to survive watching soccer games all year. you’re praying it isn’t because the boys are trying to figure out most of the plays and strategies without coach kwang’s guidance, but it was a close tie; 1 to 1 with only five minutes left. jungwon and sunoo were doing an amazing job on defense, but the forwards were having just as much trouble as the other team trying to get anywhere close to the net.

you ran out of animal crackers to soothe your worry, so now you were anxiously clicking the back of your pen, watching as the other team sprinted down the field with the ball. the guy chooses to go down the right side of the field and as he approaches, jungwon leers, watching his feet carefully. “c’mon won, you got this,” you mutter under your breath.

the enemy winger suddenly pretend to go right, and as jungwon swiftly plunges out to match his direction, he swerves and runs left, right towards the goal. “shit, shit!” your foot begins tapping, watching jungwon cuss under his breath in defeat. jay, the goalie, your last hope, quickly bends his knees, his gloved hands out in preparation.

sunoo desperately tries to run in and stop him, but it’s too late as the enemy already takes a shot. it was like slow motion, jungwon and sunoo running to try and block the ball with their body, jay jumping to his right and reaching out for the ball milliseconds before it finds the net. “yes!” you cheer, watching your goalie protectively hold the ball to his chest, releasing a stressed exhale.

two minutes on the clock, it was now or never. jay throws the ball towards sunoo, who then passes it on to niki up on left wing. this was probably their last chance to solve the tie before time ran out. niki sprints down the field, getting past the opponents winger before kicking it over to heeseung. the striker runs faster than ever before, speeding right past the defenseman with a focused expression. you were clicking your pen even faster now, glancing back to the clock. 1 minute and 27 seconds remaining. “heeseung!” niki shouts, raising a hand to signal that he was open for a pass. the pink haired boy obeys, kicking the ball over and giving niki the opportunity to shoot.

“please, please niki, you can do this.” you’ve now left your spot on the bench, hovering closer to the sidelines for a better view of the intense match.

just as a defenceman runs in to check him, niki slams the ball up into the air, aiming straight for the left corner. it was so precise, in fact, that not even the goalie could reach high enough to stop it. the minute the ball hit the goal, screams were heard, spectators probably crying, being much too dramatic for a school soccer game yet here you were, hollering in pure joy as niki gets jumped by his teammates with a big goofy smile on his face. and just like that, the buzzer rings loudly with perfect timing, indicating the end of the game and another symphony of happy shouting and applause surrounds the field.

you were so blissed by relief you barely noticed niki pulling away from his teammates to run over and give you a big, sweaty hug. though due to his height, he ends up lifting you off the ground a bit, shaking you around like a stuffed toy. “that- that was amazing!” you hug him back happily. “you were like, like running so fast, and then that guy tried to stop you but totally failed because you were just that good!! and that shot?! the poor goalie had no ch— mmph!” oh. before you could finish your sentence, nishimura riki was already pushing his lips onto yours. they were soft and plush, molding against your own wonderfully under his cute nose that gently brushed yours. his kisses were a bit (very) messy, but it was really just because he was so overjoyed. scoring the winning goal and kissing you in one day? double whammy if you ask him.

you’re the first to pull away, arms still around his neck as you catch your breath. before you can stop to think, the first thought that comes to your head tumbles out of your mouth. “can we do that again?” you inwardly slap yourself out of embarrassment.

the boy bursts into laughter, throwing his head back teasingly. “wow, you really like me.”

you scowl, “no shit, sherlock. but whatever, i guess i’ll go kiss jungwon instead.”

“hey, why am i a part of this lover’s quarrel?” jungwon magically appears behind you with a raised brow, the rest of the team happily following behind.

“manager,” sunghoon interjects, “rate niki’s kisses from one to ten.”

niki groans, “you guys are so annoying.”

“hmm,” you pretend to think, making niki glare at you in offense. “maybe.. a three?” you smirk.

“wh- a three?!” niki whines. the boys burst into laughter, shoving their teammate back and forth. “and i was gonna ask you out,” he pouts sadly.

you tilt your head, pondering for a moment. “if you buy me some animal crackers, maybe i’ll say yes.”

“animal crackers and bowling, then?” he compensates.

you smile, “deal.”

with that, niki fist bumps the air, screaming a victorious “let’s go!” before running to the changeroom. of course, not before kissing you one last time for the road. you chuckle at his childish antics, touching your lips in an attempt to process what’d just happened.

okay, maybe being the soccer team’s manager wouldn’t be too bad.

you’ve reached the end hurray! if you enjoyed, reblogs n’ comments are always very appreciated and motivating for me to keep writing!

perm taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @koshinene @boowoowho @sultrybaby

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