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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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navybrat817 · 10 months

Note

his tongue 👅

YES. This man and his tongue.

What That Tongue Do?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky doesn't get why you're attracted to an actor who plays him in another world, but he's happy to remind you what his tongue can do. Word Count: Over 1.4k Warnings: Multiverse discussion, Sebastian Stan and his tongue, d/irty talk, implied o/ral (f. and m. receiving), jealousy, humor, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: It's Sebastian Stan's birthday and this is my take on Bucky discovering his existence. And for the Bucks and Noble server, a quick position mention. Hehe. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“I don’t like him.”

You chortled as you turned in your chair to face Bucky, amusement twinkling in your eyes as his nostrils flared. “Why don’t you like him? That’s you. Well. Kind of. His name is Sebastian Stan.”

Bucky honestly couldn’t remember at this point if Tony had played around with something or if Wanda joined in and tampered with an experiment, but the monitors showcased what they were told were different versions of themselves in various worlds and dimensions. And you, his girlfriend, zeroed in on the screen where some punk who admittedly looked similar to him couldn’t stop showing his tongue and licking his lips.

Everyone else left quickly after that.

Does this guy have an oral fixation or is he a slut? Not that I would shame him if he is, but I don’t like how you keep looking at it.

“That is not me,” he stated, crossing his arms with a defiant glare. Had it been his old metal arm instead of the upgraded vibranium one, the distinct “whir” sound would’ve filled the room from how hard he clenched his fingers. “He’s a punk.”

“Steve is a punk. Seb is an actor,” you corrected him.

“Oh, it’s ‘Seb’ now. The punk has a nickname.”

“He is not a punk,” you giggled, the sound bringing a small smile to his face before he raised a lip at the screen.

I know punks and he’s a fucking punk. He can’t fool me. He looks shorter than I am. Why does his hair look so good after a fight? That’s not realistic. I have to admit, they got the likeness of the arm pretty close. Wait, do I make those facial expressions? Why are you smiling at his nose crinkle?

“His tongue is out. AGAIN. I swear he’s doing it on purpose,” he snarled when your head whipped back toward the monitor. “Seriously?! You’re looking?!”

“Only because he looks like you, Bucky!” you said innocently, facing him again. There was nothing innocent about it. The moment that guy’s fucking tongue moved, you clenched your thighs together. The only one he wanted you to do that for was him. “And like I didn’t hear you groan when you saw the Earth 314 version of me.”

That is not the same because I don’t love her. I love you.

“Fine. So, he’s an actor,” he grumbled as you got up and did your best to block out the view of the faces behind you. “And he ‘plays’ me?”

“Yeah, he does. In that world, James Buchanan Barnes, and pretty much everyone here that you know, are comic book characters brought to life. He plays you in the movies. Oh, they made a show, too. About you and Sam.”

What kind of world is that?

“Sam and I in a show together? That would never work.”

“It does in their world,” you said, touching his cheek and bringing his attention back to you and your loving smile. “Stop giving the television that death stare, please? Those monitors are shutting down in the next few minutes and we’ll never see those faces again.”

“Please. You think Stark didn’t find a way to keep that Earth’s video on a loop to taunt me at any given moment?”

Things were better between Bucky and Tony after what happened in Siberia, but the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, according to the actor who portrayed him, liked to give him hell from time to time. It was usually in good fun. Usually.

“So, I shouldn’t tell you it’s Sebastian Stan’s birthday today?” you asked, sucking your lips in as you tried not to giggle.

His nostrils flared again as he took a breath. He was a war hero. The former Winter Soldier turned Avenger. He was not about to be jealous of some actor in another dimension that you’d never see. “Why do you know that?”

“Because the information is right there,” you said, pointing over your shoulder. You had the decency to not turn around. “He was born on August 13th, 1982, in Constanta, Romania and he-”

Your eyes widened as Bucky gently shoved two vibranium fingers into your mouth, pushing them deep enough to make you pause. “Stop talking about the man who can’t keep his fucking tongue in his mouth.”

With a moan, you wrapped your mouth tighter around the digits and bobbed your head. You already choked on him once today. Maybe you’d do it again. Seeing that guy with the bright blue eyes though, he wanted to give you a firm reminder of what he could do to you with his tongue.

Why lust after him when you have me to worship you?

“Why do you like it so much?” he asked as his fingers slipped free.

You began to laugh before he tilted your head to kiss your neck, the sound shifting to a moan. “I don’t like his tongue, Bucky. I like yours.”

“Not good enough,” he murmured against your skin, trying to go slow when he was two seconds away from ripping your clothes off and bending you over the console. “I need you to love my tongue.”

“I do,” you whined, palming him through his pants. “Love when you get it nice and deep, just like your cock. Or when you thrust your fingers in and flick my clit with the tip of your tongue. Make me drip until I’m practically a puddle and you still don’t stop.”

“You and that fucking mouth,” he groaned, laying you back as best as he could and sliding your skirt up. The growing stain on your panties made him twitch and he told himself it had nothing to do with the actor who played his part well. It was all him.

“Remember the last time you ate me out?” you asked, biting your lip as he slid your soaked underwear down your legs. As much as he wanted to shove them in your mouth because he loved making you taste yourself, he didn’t want to smother a single sound. “You had me ride your face and it wasn’t enough. You spun me around after the first orgasm and kept your tongue inside when I got my mouth on your cock.”

That position deserves more attention.

“It’s never enough. I always want more,” he said, taking in the glistening lips of your pussy as he glanced down at what belonged to him and licking his lips as he ran a finger along the slit. “If you could eat yourself out, you’d understand why I love being buried between your thighs.”

“I’ll settle for your cock,” you said as he sank to his knees, a shuddering breath leaving your body. “And I’ll also settle for your tongue first.”

“Should make you beg for it,” he said in a low voice, taking a long lick and groaning at your taste. Sweet and a bit tangy, a hint of your essence coating his taste buds and daring him to have more. “Should slap this pretty pussy and remind you exactly who it belongs to.”

“It’s yours. It blelongs to you, Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes. No one else,” you said, your hand shooting out to grip his long hair and twist the stands. “Get your tongue or your cock in me. I’m begging you.”

Bucky smirked, watching your hole clench around nothing. He’d fill you up the way you need. “That’s my good girl. Gonna make a mess all over this. Might make you lick it up when we’re finished.”

“Not to interrupt?” Steve’s voice rang out over the room speaker as Bucky gripped your thighs. “But I think the speaker is on and we can kind of hear everything?”

And you’re telling us now?!

“Stark has bet me twenty bucks that your lady will call out Sebastian’s name when you bring her to orgasm,” Thor chimed in. “Just so you know, my friend, I have the utmost faith that you will please her.”

You let go of Bucky’s hair to cover your mouth, your body shaking with laughter when he growled.

Of course, I fucking will.

“Make it forty bucks, Point Break. Ha. Bucks. Bucky. Yeah, get to it.”

“You heard the man,” you said through your laughter, not at all embarrassed by the commentary. “Get to it.”

Taking one last look at Sebastian’s face on the screen, Bucky smiled in determination and did exactly that.

Happy Sinday! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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gentaro-kinniecom · 1 month

Text

Oh..I think you’re holding the heart of mine..

Characters: Solivan Brugmansia/gn!reader

Cw: fluff, mentions of marriage, crushes, love at first sight (?), mentions of kidnapping, yandere themes…

A/n: This is based off day two of The kid at the back :] hope you guys enjoy!

(E/c) eyes lingered across the room, trying to distract themselves from the crimson orbs that stared at their figure, drawing it with a smile. Portraits aren’t that difficult when you know how to draw, except, their skills were quite rough, unlike Sol who was nearly finishing it, looking back and forth between y/n and his paper. Blush covered part of his cheeks, placing his sketchbook down while locking eyes with them

“Is it done?” Y/n asked, sighing as the bell rung across the hallway

“Not yet, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow” He responded with a soft smile, one they’ve rarely seen the times they saw him.

Going their separate ways, y/n found their group in the hallway making small talk as they arrived. It wasn’t long until Sol and his friend appeared, chatting as Sol’s gaze landed on them. Feeling a bit curious, Y/n excuses themselves, parting away from their friends while approaching Sol.

“You must be Y/n! Sol’s told me about you..he’s right, you are kind of cute..” The guy before them spoke while chuckling as Sol sighed, blushing while glaring at his friend

“Anyways, I’m Hyugo! We were just about to eat lunch on the roof, would you like to join?” Y/n looked back briefly at their group. Perhaps something different wouldn’t be so bad today. Crowe however, noticed their sudden disappearance, his sad gaze lingered as they left with the two boys walking across the small corridor.

“I’d love to..!” Hyugo chuckled as the three of them headed towards the roof. Upon arrival, Sol handed Hyugo a bento box filled with his favorite food. It didn’t take long for them to dig in as Y/n looked around the roof, admiring the city and the view it provided.

“Have you eaten yet, y/n?” Sol inquired, staring at their hands that fidgeted around their shirt. ‘hm, cute’ he thought. The sudden question returned them back to reality while answering.

“I didn’t get to eat anything but it’s okay, I’ll grab something later-“ Before they could finish their sentence, Solivan had already taken out the other box he had saved for later.

“I made three boxes today, just in case Hyugo’s appetite was insatiable so..you can take it”

“Are you sure? I mean..” Without any hesitation, Sol had already opened up the lunch box, handing them the tasty food he prepared while smiling, reaching for some utensils.

“You made this all by yourself? It looks so good..!” Y/n praised, taking the utensils Sol provided for them as Hyugo chimed in, swallowing his food gently while speaking

“Sol’s cooking is the best! He’d make a good househusband, don’t you think?” Hearing this, Sol blushed after seeing them nod, maybe being a househusband for Y/n wouldn’t be such a terrible idea after all..

“I think so too, maybe even one day, we could get married as well” They half-joked, watching as Solivan’s smile widened, taking hold of Y/n’s hand and bringing it forth, kissing their knuckles gently

“I’d..love that, no one could ever keep us apart.” Y/n’s eyes drifted to Sol’s gaze, watching as he pressed his cheek against their hand lovingly. Hyugo was nowhere to be seen as the bell rang. After packing everything up, Sol’s hand remained intertwined with their own

“Me and Hyugo were thinking of ditching class, he wanted to see a movie..what do you think?” Upon reaching the corridor, Y/n turned, facing Sol’s body that nearly towered over theirs while leaning forward

“I..-” Looking back at the door of their next class and Crowe who had suddenly exited the room,y/n nodded “-Fuck it, let’s skip.” With that, Sol escorted them towards their secret escape place, not bothered by the glare Crowe had given him as they left.

Due to Hyugo’s request to see the latest movie in theaters, the trio arrived at the cinema shortly after. The movie itself was great, though all y/n could think about was how close Sol was, his arm in their own while sharing popcorn and some small talk. Solivan was over the moon as he walked with them around the nearby park, Hyugo had retuned home afterwards, saying something along the lines of “I’ll leave you two lovebirds be, see you tomorrow” was spoken from his behalf.

The afternoon sun had already settled down, as colder it got, a shiver ran down Y/n’s spine. Sol noticed this, feeling a bit saddened by the fact he couldn’t lend them one of his jackets. Instead, he opted on holding their hand once again until the remainder of the walk to their apartment. Sol already dreaded the look of their place, if only he could take his beloved back to his home, maybe that way he wouldn’t have to worry for any creepy onlookers. As y/n took their keys from their bag, Sol quietly wished for their lips to mest in a kiss before they would lart ways. In that same moment, they leaned forward, kissing his cheek while entering their apartment

“Thank you for today, hopefully we’ll spend more outings like this soon..!”

“Like a date?” He chimed in, making them chuckle while tilting towards him. Their gaze flickered between his eyes and lips

“I wouldn’t oppose to such idea..goodnight Sol, text me when you arrive home” With a nod, Sol bid his goodbyes and left the apartment complex, his heart racing softly while replaying tge memory of their lips caressing his cheek

“Soon..soon enough you’ll be able to see just how much I adore you, my pumpkin”

#solivan brugmansia #sol brugmansia #solivan x reader #solivan brugmansia x reader #sol brugmansia x reader #tkatb sol #the kid at the back sol #tkatb

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strwberri-milk · 6 months

Note

Hello! Saw your ask was open and thought I’d share a request idea. I was thinking about a reverse hurt/comfort for the Genshin men where they overhear a negative comment about themselves and worry their partner might agree with it. Maybe the comment comes from a friend or family member of the partner so it holds more weight than a random person’s comment.

My favorites are Kaeya, Zhongli, and Diluc but if you want to drop or substitute any characters that’s fine. Ideas for comments could be like they’re intimidating, too busy, secretive, even just generally kind of weird. It doesn’t have be deep angst, just a little doubt for their partner to reassure them about.

Hope this finds you well!

Kaeya is fully aware of the rumours that surround him. He’s aware that some people think he’s some playboy extraordinaire, that some people think he’s got too many secrets, and some people still haven’t gotten over their initial suspicion ion of him from when he first got to Mondstat. Typically, none of it would bother him but it also might have to do with the fact that most people don’t make it a habit to tell him they feel some sort of way in person or around him.

When the two of you are on a date, he happens to overhear some other people sitting just close enough that you can hear them as well, but too far away for them to notice that Kaeya’s picked up on their conversation. He tries not to show that he can hear them but the look on your face tells him you know what’s happening and you’re hearing it as well. He just laughs it off and casually mentions that the two of you should head out now - it’s getting late after all and he’d hate for the two of you to be caught out while it’s dark.

You can tell immediately what’s happening and initially decide to let Kaeya get away with it. You don’t want to be overly aggressive if it’s something that’s bothering him too much but you also don’t want him to hide it from you just because he’s afraid of how you’ll react.

Quickly, you gather that he’s feeling a little insecure about himself by his desperate attempts to try and tell you something without actually telling you anything. He’s talking himself into circles, you trying to follow the threads of conversation as much as you could while piecing together what it is that he’s insecure about. You know he really values touch and since you can’t get him to stop talking you decide to lead him back to bed,

Without thinking, he curls himself into you as you pull him onto your sheets. He sighs happily at the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair. You quietly talk to him now, telling him that you love him no matter what and even if he doesn’t want to tell you everything about himself you’ll always trust him. Kaeya doesn’t realize how badly he needs to hear that until that very moment, nodding as he presses kisses against your throat as a silent thank you for your reassurance.

Zhongli typically isn’t bothered by very much. He’s heard everything he’s needed to and he’s typically very secure in his own person. He’s never minded what people say about him but he’s also never really had anybody say anything particularly demeaning about him.

That’s why when he hears an off putting comment at work one day he’s not sure what to do about it. He doesn’t let it bother him too much but he does find himself thinking about it more than he expected to. You can tell he’s chewing on something when he comes home, sitting down at your table and deciding to directly ask you if you think he’s strange.

Your confusion settles nerves he didn’t even know he had and he chuckles a little, telling you that he heard someone say that to him today and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. He tells you exactly what it was that they told him, you reassuring him that you don’t feel that way about him. He smiles at your kind words and thanks you for telling him so, feeling better already just with that brief conversation between the two of you.

Diluc typically has a very positive relationship with most people. He’s young, handsome, rich, and charming as needed. Sure, he can come off as standoffish if people aren’t talking to him for business purposes but he knows how to talk sweetly to such an extent that it’d challenge Kaeya’s silver tongue if he decided to add casual flirting into the mix.

However, that also means some people feel as though he’s not to be trusted because of this. He knows that people might not like him because of all the dealings he has and how he can manipulate things to benefit him if needed but he also doesn’t care. Diluc would never do anything immoral, but he does have his own ways of doing things that may not be seen as conventional.

It takes a while for it to weigh on him but after one particularly rough day he comes home and simply lays his head in your lap. He’s not always good at verbalizing the issues he’s going through but you can tell when something’s bugging him because he just seeks out your presence silently.

You let him, not sure what else he wants but upon your request he mutters something about how some people have just been saying nasty things about him recently and he guesses it’s worse than he thought it initially was. You hum in understanding, cupping his face and telling him all of the things that you love about him. He takes it all in slowly, not wanting to interrupt you and feeling his chest warm at the affection you have for him.

It doesn’t take him long to feel his uncertainty dissipate, quietly thanking you for picking up on what he needed so well. You just bend down to press a kiss against his messy curls, cupping his face and telling him that he doesn’t have to thank you for you just simply loving him. You’d always be here for him, no matter what he thinks or what people say.

#genshin x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #zhongli x reader

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fushisagi · 10 months

Text

love and all its cons

୨୧ ━━ ❛ it’s difficult for one to familiarize themselves with the mystery that is your and isagi’s relationship, something that significantly blurs the line between friends and lovers. ❜

word count ⋆ 7.2k (7,278) genre ⋆ fluff, secret established relationship, 5+1 ━ pro-football player!isagi, pro-volleyball player & gn!reader

after months of you and isagi sending each other shy smiles, yearning glances, and dancing around your feelings, bachira decides it’s time for him and the rest of the team to intervene. mission: get isagi a significant other is a go!

warnings ⋆ alcohol consumption, all characters are 20+, everyone is a little bit of an idiot and oblivious, (brief) jealous isagi, i snuck in hinata from haikyuu!! in here bc i love him sorry, that’s it i think lmk if i missed anything!

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Bachira immediately knows something’s wrong when Itoshi Rin of all people agrees with him.

The whole team is taken aback by it, too, showing their surprise with wide eyes and thinly veiled confusion. Towards the back, Reo opens up the news app on his phone, muttering about how Rin’s agreement must be some sort of bad omen, an indication that the world is ending.

“I’m sorry,” Chigiri starts, eyes narrowed, “did you just agree with Bachira? Like, willingly?”

Rin tsks, throwing all of them a look of annoyance. “Yes.”

“Are you sick or something?”

Reo finally makes his concern known, clutching his chest dramatically as he declares, “Oh, God. I really should’ve been a survivalist. Does anyone want to come to the store with me to buy non-perishables?”

Nagi sighs tiredly, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Reo, it’s too early for you to be overdramatic.”

“It is 5pm. Practice just ended.”

Nagi responds with a yawn.

Bachira snaps out of his daze with a shake of his head. He grabs onto Rin’s arm despite the boy growling at him to let go, and forces the team into a huddle with a conspiring smile on his face. They watch him warily; a grin like that could only mean trouble, and the last time Bachira managed to drag them into his shenanigans, they ended up being slandered on national television for breaking and entering.

(He had somehow convinced the entire team it would be funny to break into Ego’s house and scare him awake).

(It was not funny. Practices for the next three months were grueling).

“We should set them up together!” Bachira exclaims delightfully.

For a moment, nobody speaks. Then, everyone looks over to Kunigami who, just last week, had come to practice with a venomous bite in his words after going on a date with someone Bachira set him up with.

Almost immediately, everyone’s voices overlap as ideas are shut down and new ones are suggested, unaware of you and Isagi watching them with a mixture of amusement and confusion. While his teammates aren’t looking, Isagi presses a kiss to your cheek and grabs you by the wrist to the farthest side of the field, where the both of you can discuss your plans for dinner without worrying about someone hearing you.

“We should just lock them up in the supply closet,” Reo says.

Kunigami shakes his head. “That would be a disaster.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I just do.”

Zantetsu muses, “Should we send both of them flowers and sign the card so they’ll think they were the ones who sent it?”

Rin scrunches his nose. “I am not spending my money on those two idiots.”

Nagi huffs. “Wouldn’t it be easier if we just told them they like each other?”

Bachira waves him off. “No. There’s no fun in that.” Then, a lightbulb turns on, and he’s clapping his hands with the excitement of a child waking up on Christmas day. “Ah! We make the both of them jealous.”

“No,” Kunigami shuts the suggestion down with a frown on his face. “that’ll create misunderstandings—”

“Awww,” Bachira whines with a pout, “you’re no fun!”

Across the field, you watch the exchange with furrowed eyebrows as Isagi orders takeout on his phone. He follows your gaze, snickering when Reo reaches over to smack Zantetsu’s head but misses and hits Rin in the face instead. Even from here, you hear everyone shouting at each other as Rin attempts to smack Reo but ends up landing a hit on Chigiri when Reo quickly ducks out of the way.

“What the hell are they doing?” you mutter as Bachira tackles Nagi with a giggle.

Isagi shrugs unhelpfully. “Don’t know.”

Someone knocks Zantetsu’s glasses of his face, which results in him gasping loudly. The arguments don’t cease despite the fact that they’re now all on the ground, attacking each other with punches and kicks only meant to bruise.

“You’re friends with a bunch of idiots, babe.”

Isagi, ever the dramatic boyfriend, looks at you as if you’ve said something so incredibly hurtful. “Excuse me, you’re friends with them, too.”

“Yeah,” you say, wincing when Bachira jumps onto Kunigami’s back and starts ruffling his hair, “Yeah, unfortunately, I am.”

attempt one: bachira meguru & kunigami rensuke.

When Bachira tells Kunigami he’s planning on tricking the two of you into going on a date and watching from the sidelines, Kunigami feels he owes it to both you and Isagi to tag along, seeing as the last time he let Bachira meddle with someone’s love life (i.e. his), it ended with a chipped tooth and a trip to the dentist’s office.

(Bachira insists it’s not his fault Kunigami punched his date. Kunigami insists it is because there was absolutely no reason for Bachira to set the date up at a Five Nights at Freddy’s themed party).

This is how Kunigami finds himself lurking behind a blue van as you and Isagi walk across the parking lot, talking animatedly as you make your way towards the entrance of the arcade. Every now and then, Isagi checks his phone with annoyance and you glance at your watch with a frown.

Kunigami phone buzzes in his pocket. He already knows what the notification is before he sees it.

groupchat: blue lock!!! 🥳⚽��❤️‍🔥

isagi 🤓 > where r u guys?

Beside him, Bachira’s fingers dash across his keyboard.

bachira 🐝 > sorry! D: I won’t be able to make it 😣😓 > looks like it’s just you and y/n~~~ 😉😉😉

isagi 🤓 > ??? > what about the rest of the team

bachira 🐝 > they’re all sick unfortunately !! ):

At this point, you and Isagi have already made it to the doors. Kunigami is too far away to read Isagi’s expression, but he looks at you for a long moment, says something that makes you laugh, before he turns back to his phone.

isagi 🤓 > really?? ALL of you are sick???

bachira 🐝 > yep!

Bachira kicks Kunigami’s shin and gestures towards his phone. The taller boy sighs and begrudgingly sends a message to the groupchat.

kunigami 😵‍💫 > yeah > cough cough

Bachira hums approvingly before walking around the car and hastily making his way to the entrance. Kunigami is quick to follow, lowering his head and bending his knees in hopes to not attract any attention with his height.

Once they step inside, Kunigami is forced to lift his chin up as he searches the crowd for any sign of his friends.

“There they are!” Bachira declares excitedly, pointing to a large claw machine before dragging Kunigami to hide behind the pinball machine.

Isagi has one hand on the joystick and the other hovering over a red button, his tongue sticking out in concentration. He leans closer to the glass as the claw hovers over a blue plushie, and just as he pushes the button, you shove his other arm, causing the claw to move forward and come down at the same time. The claw, predictably, grabs onto nothing, causing Isagi to turn to you with a pout on his lips.

“Hey!” he whines, softening when your head meets his chest as your shoulders shake with laughter.

“I’m sorry,” you say in between giggles. When you look up at him, he tries his best to look unimpressed, but he can’t bite back the smile that blooms across his face. “I’m sorry, Yoichi, I really am, but you have to admit it was pretty funny.”

“And to think I was going to win that for you!”

You glance at him, unconvinced, and then to the Snorlax plushie staring back at the both of you. “Yeah, right. You were gonna keep that for yourself.”

It’s silent for two heartbeats before Isagi sighs. “Yeah, I was gonna keep it for myself.”

“You’re a terrible boyf—”

“Um, excuse me?”

Kunigami and Bachira jump in surprise, turning to face an exhausted employee. She has her arms crossed over her chest as she suspiciously looks between the pair of football players hiding behind an arcade game. Kunigami’s eyes widen in realization. He doesn’t exactly know what conclusion this woman has come to, but he knows that two men — with baseball caps on their heads, sunglasses on the bridge of their noses, and masks on their faces — lurking in the shadows of an arcade is bound raise a few eyebrows.

“Oh, hello!” Bachira greets with too much chirpiness for Kunigami’s liking, but he can tell his friend is nervous when Bachira glances at you and Isagi, who still — thankfully — haven’t looked over to the commotion by the pinball machines. “Sorry, we were just… waiting for our turn.”

The woman blinks. “You’ve been standing here doing nothing for five minutes. Nobody’s touched the pinball machine because they thought you guys were going to play.”

Kunigami scratches the back of his neck. “Well…”

He doesn’t continue.

The woman looks at them incredulously. “Well?”

Kunigami looks at Bachira, panicked, silently begging for help. Bachira blinks back up at him and shrugs.

Ever since he met Bachira Meguru, Kunigami swears years have been continuously removed from his lifespan.

“We can’t allow you guys to stay if you’re not going to play any games. It’s company policy.”

“Oh! Then we’ll just play! Um…” Kunigami trails off as he begins patting his pockets, eyebrows knitting together when he feels wrappers, his ID, house keys — everything but his wallet. He looks at Bachira. “I don’t have any money.”

“Well, don’t look at me! I don’t have any, either!”

Across from them, the woman sighs.

Kunigami’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets. “What do you mean? You paid our taxi driver!”

Bachira nods. “Yes, but that was the last of my change.”

Kunigami’s eye twitches.

Over at the claw machine, you and Isagi have diverted your attention towards your friends. Your suspicion is written all over your face and Isagi, with a grin bright enough to rival the sun, has pulled out his phone to record.

“Is that…?”

Isagi snickers. “Yup.”

“I thought you said they were sick.”

“That’s what they told me,” Isagi explains, holding in his laughter as the employee politely asks Kunigami and Bachira to leave the vicinity. “But I think they’re just spying on us.”

Curiously, you ask, “Why would they do that?”

Isagi doesn’t respond. Instead, he ends the video and pulls up Blue Lock’s groupchat, which includes him and all his teammates. He scrolls up to a text from two nights ago.

bachira 🐝 > okay operation set isagi and y/n up is a GO!!!! :D 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳 > does everyone remember their positions?!! 🫡

rin 😐 > Please shut the fuck up

attempt two: zantetsu tsurugi.

Zantetsu is stressed.

He’s been watching Isagi like a hawk ever since practice started, sticking to him like glue by never leaving his side. He follows Isagi when it’s time for drills, chats with him during break, and joins him to his trip to the water fountain. And yet, despite how much they’ve talked today, Isagi still has yet to mention the flowers.

Zantetsu’s learned the hard way that flowers are expensive, but he still sent two bouquets last night — one to your apartment and one to Isagi’s; he’d even gotten Bachira to sign the cards so it would look like you got the flowers for each other.

(When Reo said the forgery was awful, Zantetsu dismissed him with a roll of his eyes).

But Isagi hasn’t said a word about it. And, during the fifteen minutes you popped by, you didn’t say anything about it, either.

Zantetsu sits on the bench, close to pulling his hair out. On one side of him is Nagi, nonchalant as his thumbs dash across his phone screen; on the other side is Reo, who watches you and Isagi laugh with a look of disgust plastered across his face.

“I don’t get it,” Zantetsu groans, putting his head in his hands. “I checked with the florist six times.”

Reo snorts. “Are you sure you got their addresses right?”

“Yes! Look!” Zantetsu opens up his phone and scrolls through the digital receipt in his email. Reo looks over his shoulder and confirms the addresses with a grunt.

Nagi barely glances at his teammate’s screen before muttering, “Stupid Zantetsu.”

“What! but I did everything right!”

“Well, there’s no one else to blame,” Nagi drawls. “You’re the only one who bought the flowers.”

Zantetsu slips off the bench and lies down on the grass, muttering incoherent complaints while Nagi pays him no mind and Reo starts poking his side with the toe of his shoe.

(What Zantetsu doesn’t know, however, is that you did receive the flowers. Isagi had been at your apartment when you got the delivery and texted you that someone on the team had sent you daisies along with a card that badly resembled his signature).

(There is also the fact that Isagi spends more time at your apartment than he does at his. Five months after Zantetsu ordered the flowers, you and Isagi go to his home to pack up his things so he can officially move in with you, only to find a bouquet of dead roses on his doorstep).

attempt three: chigiri hyoma, mikage reo, & nagi seishiro.

Reo kind of likes the power that comes with playing God.

Ever since Kunigami and Bachira got kicked out of the arcade, Reo’s been plotting. He’s unlike his usual self — instead of bursting with energy, Reo comes to practice silent. He’s scrutinizing Isagi so much that the boy has started avoiding him; he’s been asking you random questions whenever you visit; under the guise of caring for his teammates, Reo has made a shared Google calendar and forced everyone to add their schedules to it (really, he’s just trying to see when Isagi is free so he can set this plan in motion).

And what Reo wants, Reo gets, and Chigiri shouldn’t have been surprised when Reo comes up to him with a 30-slide PowerPoint.

“Hear me out,” he’d said when Chigiri opened the door to his apartment. “I’m a fucking genius.”

Chigiri had no time to reply before Reo was letting himself in.

The party — a trap disguised in diamonds and alcohol, is what Reo refers to this as — is in full swing when Chigiri arrives, toeing off his shoes as he nods to familiar faces whose names he can’t quite remember and brushing off anyone who offers him a drink. He finds Nagi in the corner leaning against the wall, surprisingly off his phone, and staring at two people in the living room.

You and Isagi have taken the couch hostage. While there may be room for someone to sit, Chigiri can see why people don’t. Even from a few feet away, he feels as if he’s intruding when he watches Isagi stare up at you with his head in your lap and your fingers combing through his hair.

There is no way friends are this affectionate with each other.

Chigiri doesn’t have time to dwell before Bachira, who may as well be bouncing off the walls, swoops in to pull Isagi off your lap. He slowly rises, engulfed with sharp irritation that’s wiped away as soon as you place a hand on your shoulder and murmur a temporary farewell.

“They’re stupid,” Nagi mutters. Chigiri silently agrees.

It doesn’t take long for Reo to find them, hyper and euphoric, and Chigiri wonders if he’s either drunk off alcohol or adrenaline. He places a hand on both Chigiri and Nagi’s shoulders before declaring in true dramatic Mikage Reo fashion, “It’s game time.”

Nagi cringes. “But I’m too tired.”

“I gave you the easiest assignment!” Reo exclaims incredulously.

“Luring Isagi into your room sounds far from easy.”

“Would you rather be chasing after Y/N?”

Nagi frowns, glancing over at you. You’re strategically slipping through the crowd to avoid people you don’t want to speak to, politely giving them smiles before you disappear from sight. It’s almost as if the shadows are swallowing you whole and teleporting you to another area in the penthouse.

Nagi shakes his head and halfheartedly wishes Chigiri good luck before beginning his search for Isagi.

Chigiri sighs as Reo slaps him on the shoulder and pushes him out from his safe place against the wall, similar to that of a mother letting her child play in the playground. A rather chaotic, migraine-inducing playground.

With an annoyed huff, he begins walking the perimeters of the penthouse, scanning the crowd in hopes of finding you in your desperate attempts to vanish. He knows you find these rambunctious gatherings more bearable when you’re with Isagi; you may be friends with the entire team (one time he overheard Zantetsu saying you were one of his emergency contacts), but there is nothing that compares to your closeness with Isagi. People have tried and failed to puncture the bubble the two of you live in.

It’s difficult for one to familiarize themselves with the mystery that is your and Isagi’s relationship, something that significantly blurs the line between friends and lovers.

Chigiri may not be as observant as his other teammates, but he can spot love when he sees it. Especially if it is so ridiculously obvious that it might as well be as blinding as the sun.

He finds you in mere minutes — clearly not fast enough for Reo, who he knows is the culprit behind the continuous buzzing coming from his device. You’re in the kitchen, sitting atop a counter, nursing a glass of apple juice. When you see Chigiri in the doorway, you smile, though the tension in your body remains.

“Hi,” you greet. He makes his way towards you, swift but nonchalant. “Having fun?”

“A little. You?” At your grimace, he laughs. “You didn’t seem to be this miserable when I saw you with Isagi earlier.”

It’s bait, you know it’s bait. He expects you to brush it off with stammered words and wandering eyes but instead you shrug, hiding your smile behind the cup. If Chigiri is surprised at your silent admission, he doesn’t show it.

“Yeah, but he’s not here right now, so…”

Chigiri hums teasingly. “You two looked cozy on the couch.”

You snort, downing the rest of your juice before placing the cup in the sink beside you. “He was just telling me about how Zantetsu was trailing after him like a lost puppy yesterday at practice.”

Comparing Zantetsu’s behaviour to that of a puppy is pushing it, but Chigiri decides now isn’t the time to protest. He wonders if you’re aware about the flower mishap — or if you even received the flowers in the first place.

“Did you get flowers a few days ago?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah. It said they were from Yoichi.” Chigiri’s eyes widen, urging you to continue. Maybe, just maybe, he won’t have to resort to locking you in a room to deal with your feelings. “But the penmanship was so atrociously bad I assumed the bouquet was from Bachira.”

All hope disappears. It shows in the way Chigiri’s shoulders droop and the way he rubs his temples, missing your small, amused smirk.

“Okay,” Chigiri clasps his hands together with the type of determination you only see on the football field. “You’re hopeless.”

You scoff. “Excuse me?”

“I know where Isagi is,” Chigiri states instead of offering an explanation.

Getting you to follow him is easy enough. With childlike excitement, you jump off the counter and trail behind him with a smile on your face. There seems to be more energy and pep in your steps, and your smile is so wide Chigiri is surprised you’re able to keep it on your face without your cheeks hurting.

And this doesn’t even compare to how Isagi acts at the sole mention of you. Chigiri wonders if setting the two of you up is the best for his sanity; he’s not quite sure he’ll be able to handle such a chipper, lovesick Isagi everyday during practice.

But then he glances at his notifications, snorting at Nagi’s anguished messages to hurry up, because hearing Isagi talk about you is much worse than watching three cheesy Hallmark romcoms back to back. Perhaps, Chigiri thinks, it would be cruel to not push the two of you together. He can worry about the suffering he’ll have to endure in the future.

Once he’s led you to the end of the hallway where Reo and Nagi loiter just outside the guest room, you falter in your steps. The next few seconds are a flurry of confusion and snappy remarks, and the next thing you know, you’re shoved into a room and the door behind you is locked with an obnoxious click.

Isagi shoots up from where he was previously lying on the bed. “Thank God you’re here. I wasn’t sure if they were just going to leave me in here by myself.”

You sigh, making your way towards the bed. Isagi shuffles to make space for you. His hands find their home around your waist before he uses them to pull you against him.

You grumble as he nestles his face into the crook of your neck. “You were right.”

You feel him smirk against your skin. “Right about what?” he asks with faux perplexity.

“You know what.”

“Hm, I really don’t.”

You huff, flicking the back of his hand, and he responds with a laugh. “They’re trying to set us up.”

“Yeah, that much was obvious, babe.”

“I thought they already knew,” you say, meeting his gaze when he lifts his head up to meet yours.

“I thought we agreed to keep this a secret.”

“No, I know,” you say, but then you gesture towards the door, and add, with bewildered mirth, “but it’s not like we’re being very secretive. I thought they would have figured it out by now.”

Isagi guffaws and despite just how loud it is, you lean into his touch, yearning to hear it again. “Didn’t you say they were idiots?”

“I didn’t think they were this oblivious.”

“And to think that’s what they’re saying about us,” Isagi smiles but it turns serious as he places his chin on your shoulder. “But do you want to tell them?”

You want to say yes. When you first agreed to this secret relationship — to avoid pressing questions and people invading your privacy — sneaking around quickly became tiresome. And it still is, though you admit it’s nicer to interact with your boyfriend in the confines of your apartment and the stadium whenever you visit, away from any prying eyes that could twist every interaction. You feel the most comfortable with him there, away from the public eye, and you know he feels the same way.

However, it might be nice for your close friends to know.

But then you remember how, just last night, you and Isagi were huddled around his phone, laughing at the ridiculous plans his teammates have made in order to get you two alone together. It seems that they’ve forgotten that your boyfriend’s in the chat too, and their naivety has become newfound entertainment.

You’re curious to find out what else they have up their sleeves. When you look at Isagi, you know he shares the same sentiment.

He grins. “That’s settled, then. What do you think they’re going to do next?”

“Bachira seems very adamant about the jealousy plan.”

Isagi snorts. “I kind of want to see where he goes with that.”

Your eyes narrow. “Why?”

He pecks your nose. “Because you’re cute when you’re jealous. And it boosts my ego.” you scoff, but before you can even think about replying, Isagi says, “Hey, do you want to leave and make out in Reo’s room?”

“We’re locked in here,” you deadpan.

Isagi lets go of you and walks towards the door. He points at the doorknob with a wide grin on his face.

The room locks from both the inside and the out.

You let out a disappointed sigh.

Sometimes you worry that the next time you see Reo, he’s going to be swindled out of a million dollars.

attempt four: bachira meguru (again) ft. itoshi rin.

This really could be the best idea Bachira’s ever had — the thing is, though, nobody has the slightest ounce of faith in him. Which, if he’s being honest, is kind of offensive.

(So what if he and Kunigami got kicked out of the arcade a few days ago? Sometimes genius plans fail! It doesn’t mean Bachira’s lost his touch).

The team has found themselves at a gala, surrounded by athletes and sponsors alike in a large ballroom smelling of wealth and prestige. Caterers carrying trays of champagne flutes slip through the crowd with practiced ease, faces painted with polite smiles that do not waver despite the football team’s — read: Bachira and Zantetsu’s — overwhelming excitement.

Rin, who narrowly escaped a conversation with a bubbly volleyball player he barely remembers the name of, walks into a prison as worse as forced small-talk. With Bachira by his side, he scowls as the shorter boy starts unsubtly pointing towards you and Isagi, whispering amongst yourselves with reserved smiles and fond eyes.

“This is stupid,” Rin says monotonously when Bachira suggests that Rin should split you and Isagi apart.

“It’s not!” Bachira argues, growing annoyed at Rin’s apathy. “Tonight’s the best night to make one of ‘em jealous. Hey, what about I split them up and you make them jealous?”

Rin’s response is simple and curt, “No.”

Bachira sighs, though he can’t say he’s surprised.

The night goes on without many bumps in the road. Rin stays by Bachira once he learns that nobody’s willing to talk to him if he pretends he’s preoccupied in a conversation, no matter how one-sided it is. Some of his teammates join in for a bit before they drift away again; Reo stops by to encourage them to talk to sponsors (Rin scowls in response), Kunigami and Zantetsu tell Rin on separate occasions he looks like he stepped in shit, Chigiri halfheartedly wishes Bachira luck, and even Nagi came by for a few minutes to talk to them.

The only teammate Rin hasn’t spoken a word to is Isagi.

He really doesn’t care, but he thinks he’d rather have a conversation with him than have to painfully watch him pine over you. The sight of it bothers him so much he’s actually considering going along with Bachira’s plan, but before he can open his mouth and spout out words he’ll likely regret, somebody comes by and takes you away.

And you let him.

For a moment, Rin’s eyes widen.

“What the—” Bachira squeaks, jaw slack. “Who is that?”

Rin recognizes the man as one of the people he avoided having a conversation with. His hair is bright, matching the excitement in his grin and the radiance in his eyes, and Rin’s pretty sure he’s seen him on billboards and advertisements hanging on the large glass windows of retail stores.

There is familiarity in his touch, Rin realizes. But there is something between the two of you that doesn’t match the atmosphere between you and Isagi — there are joyful grins and clumsy movements, sure, but it all seems friendly.

He frowns, glances at Bachira, only to find him staring at Isagi, and Rin wonders if the champagne has messed with his imagination or if there is actual smoke is coming out of Isagi’s ears.

Well. At least Bachira didn’t even have to lift a finger.

Only a couple seconds pass before Isagi grumbles and stands from his seat, walking over to where Rin and Bachira watch you and the unknown man dance next to the other couples in the ballroom. When Isagi stands in front of them, he is the perfect picture of a man wronged, his usual boyish smile replaced with an annoyed frown.

“Hello, Yoichi!” Bachira greets, though his voice is strained, and his wandering eyes don’t fail to show his discomfort. “We haven’t seen you all night.”

Isagi grunts. “Sorry.”

Rin really shouldn’t find pleasure in this, but he thinks it’s a little funny. However, his face is blank when he states, “Y/N looks like they’re having fun.”

Rin expects Isagi to glare at him with the same intensity he has on the field, but Isagi only pouts. “Uh-huh.”

“Who’s the guy they’re dancing with?” asks Bachira.

“His name’s Hinata,” Isagi grumbles, taking a champagne flute from a passing caterer’s tray. He mumbles a thanks before continuing, “He’s a volleyball player, so they met through that when he first moved to Tokyo.”

“Ah,” Bachira nods. Then, rubbing salt into the wound, he adds, “So they’re, like, super close?”

“I guess?”

“Are they dating?”

Isagi’s expression sours. “Definitely not.”

“How unfortunate,” Rin muses. He doesn’t bother to veil the glint of mischief in his eye, but Isagi is too preoccupied swirling his glass in disgust to notice, “They’d look nice together.”

(Bachira is sure the world has been thrown off-balance. Did Itoshi Rin just play instigator? For the sake of his teammate’s love life? He feels like this moment needs to be documented).

Isagi hums but doesn’t offer anything else. His posture is a lot more rigid than usual and he burns holes into the back of your head with an infuriating amount of infatuated neediness. It is only when the song ends that he relaxes, smiling wide when you part ways with Hinata to make your way to him.

Like metal to a magnet, you attach yourself to Isagi’s side, eyebrows furrowing at Rin’s contemplation and Bachira’s determination.

Shuffling awkwardly on your feet, you flash the both of them a wary smile before asking, “Are you guys having fun?”

Bachira grins and your stomach sinks. You’re not sure if you’re going to like where this is going to go. “Not as fun as you, I bet!”

You share a look with Isagi that only the two of you can decipher. “What do you mean?”

“We saw you dancing with Hinata,” your friend explains animatedly, pointing towards the boy seated at a table with his own teammates. “He’s cute! Have you ever thought about dating him?”

Rin’s face contorts into one of displeasure. Bachira does not have one subtle bone in his body.

You blink. Isagi places a hand on your shoulder and squeezes, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed. “No? He’s my friend.”

“Oh! So, like Isagi?”

Isagi’s hand drops from your shoulder. Beside him, you’re biting the inside of your cheek, but the amusement on your face is as clear as day. “Bachira,” Isagi warns, frazzled and panicked.

Bachira frowns, confused by Isagi’s uneasiness. “What?” he questions, tone light and mischievous. He draws all his focus onto you, and you suddenly feel as if you’ve been shoved into an interrogation room. “It’s just a question! Even Rin said you two would look nice together!”

“He’s a friend,” you repeat, and it feels more like a reassurance for the boy next to you than anything else. “Speaking of which, Hinata wanted to talk to you, Yoichi, about the game last week. He said he wanted to congratulate you.”

Isagi brightens at the reminder of his goal that earned them a victory. “Oh—!”

“Wait,” Bachira interjects, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “You know him? Like, personally?”

“Yeah, we’re friends—”

Bachira gapes. “You have friends?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I meant other than us!” Bachira adds quickly. His mouth is hanging open, and the loudness of his shock has drawn the attention of the other guests, causing you to shrink into yourself. Your hand finds Isagi’s before you tug him away, throwing apologetic glances at any questioning looks you find yourself on the receiving end of.

“You idiot,” Rin hisses, “people are staring.”

Before Bachira can say anything more about his utter shock at Isagi having a social life outside of football, someone taps Rin on the shoulder. It’s an older man, presumably someone who wants to sponsor him, and at the sight, Rin glowers. When he looks over his shoulder in hopes of throwing Bachira under the bus, he sees that the spot beside him is empty.

A few feet away, a caterer yelps when Bachira accidentally bumps into them.

Rin grits his teeth.

(On your way to Hinata’s table, you snort, “And here I thought you liked Bachira’s jealousy plan.”

Isagi rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, Yoichi,” you coo, which only causes his pout to grow, “I think you look cute when you’re jealous.”

“I hate you.”

You laugh and he tugs you closer to his side. “No,” you say softly, “you love me.”)

attempt five: itoshi rin.

Whoever thinks that Rin is doing this because he cares is way off base.

If anything, he’s doing this for the sake of his own wellbeing. He was stupid to leave this situation in the hands of his teammates, who have yet to make any progress on doing something about Isagi’s ridiculous pining.

This is how Rin finds himself standing in front of you, awkward and out of place, as you slowly place your duffel bag on the bench. Behind you, your teammates are warming up for the upcoming game, throwing the occasional perplexed glance at Rin’s intimidating figure, before deeming it better to brush him off and ask you about him later.

“Rin, hi,” you say apprehensively. “The game isn’t until five.”

“I know.”

“And it’s three.”

“I know.”

You wrinkle your nose at his tone but choose to ignore it so you can put your kneepads on and tie your shoelaces. In the corner of your eye, Rin continues to just stand; he’s so rigid that you’re convinced that a light shove is all you need for him to tip over and shatter on the floor like glass.

When the comfortable silence begins to grow awkward, Rin clears his throat, “I need to talk to you.”

“You could’ve just called me.”

“You wouldn’t have answered,” he deadpans, briefly glancing towards your phone, silenced, and peeking out the side of your bag, “and it’s important.”

“More important than preparing for a game?”

You gesture around you. Volleyballs soar through the air once they make contact with skin, forearms are tinged red, and shoes squeak against the vulcanized rubber floors. When Rin looks at you, you’re itching to leave, eager to part from him and this conversation in order to get your hands on a ball.

Rin hesitates. “Well… no?”

With a sigh and roll of your eyes, you point to the door. “Okay, well, tell me about it later. I’ll see you—”

“It’s about Isagi.”

You freeze.

“What about him?” you ask. Your previous chagrin has quickly been replaced by worry. A mien that’s a mixture of love and panic is painted across your face as you hastily grab your phone (Rin notices your lockscreen is a candid photo of Isagi playing with a cat on the screen) and open your messages.

“He likes you.”

A quiet moment passes.

Then, you croak, “I’m sorry?”

“He likes you,” Rin repeats uncomfortably. “He has feelings for you.”

You stare. Rin prepares himself for the flurry of feelings he’s sure he will be hit with in a matter of seconds. An assortment of disbelief and hope and infatuation that will come once you’ve been snapped out of your still state, face blank as the cogs in your mind begin to turn.

He prepares himself for your emotions.

Instead, he’s met with a harsh shove on his shoulder and the same annoyance that was on your face a few minutes ago. “That’s the emergency?” you exclaim incredulously. “I— This is unbelievable. This really couldn’t wait until later?”

Rin can barely contain his shock. This is the last reaction he was expecting. He’s seen only a handful of romance films, but he knows that they always involve a timid denial of feelings. When he came here, on his day off, with the intention of finally putting an end to everyone’s misery, he expected you to falter and soften before dialling Isagi’s number and confessing.

He did not prepare for your disbelief — not at his words, but more so at him.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes. Thank you for informing me. Now, can you go?”

Rin cannot believe his ears. “Do you understand what I just said?”

“Yes, I—”

“I’m pretty sure he—”

“I get it,” you interject, opting to start pushing him towards the exit. “And I already thanked you for telling me, it really is appreciated. I’ll see you at the game, yeah? Bye.”

With that, you spin on your heel and stomp over to the court, leaving Rin to stand in the door, dumbfounded.

Well, that is the first and the last time he’ll ever do something nice for you or Isagi Yoichi.

Isagi isn’t quite sure what he’s done wrong.

When his teammates take their seats one by one, he immediately notices the defeat strewn across their faces. Alarmed, he asks if they’re alright, but all he receives in response is Chigiri’s fatigued sigh and a sharp glare from Rin.

His eyes find yours once you step onto the court, and with a shrug of your shoulders and a reassuring smile, Isagi sweeps his worry under the rug. He knows you’ll end up telling him what you know later anyway, whether it be in the car or under the duvet, his thumbs rubbing circles on your wrist as you’re both lulled into slumber.

But right now, Isagi redirects all his energy into focussing on the game.

He ignores the chatter beside him, rapid bickering that doesn’t evolve into a full-out argument, and watches as you strike a ball to the floor with impressive ferocity. Isagi is the first out of his seat to shout for joy, followed by the rest of the delighted crowd. The smile of his face is so blinding it might as well light up the entire gymnasium.

After every point you score, he’s on his feet. Pride swells in his chest as your team inches closer and closer to victory. His cheeks hurt from how much he’s smiling, especially since it grows every time you make eye contact with him on the stands, beaming. After each set, Isagi makes a mental list of different things he could do to have you look at him that again.

It is only during the last set when Isagi’s smile drops. The intensity on his face is not dissimilar to the one he dons during a game, and his teammates bristle at the sight of it, unfamiliar to seeing it off the field. They can’t blame his sudden seriousness, though, because while your team is at match point, the opponents aren’t too far behind.

The whistle blows. A player serves the volleyball into the air.

Everything happens in slow motion. Isagi wonders if this is what it feels like to watch his games from the sidelines, with every breath feeling like it may thwart a play and every movement causing anxiety to crawl up his throat like bile.

When your hand touches the ball, spiking it for what Isagi swears is the nth time of the day, time no longer stands still. The crowd roars as you’re crushed into a hug by your teammates, all wearing matching grins of triumph.

The next few moments are the consequence of a split second decision.

Isagi didn’t know he was going to do this when he woke up this morning, the spot beside him cold and a text on his phone reminding him to eat breakfast. He spends the entire day doing the laundry, cleaning the bathroom, and moping in your absence, too busy to even consider going through with an act that could be a PR disaster.

But then you look at him, and you’re shining, and Isagi decides to give in.

He’s out of his chair within seconds, waving off the questioning remarks coming from his friends as he speeds to the court.

(He’s more than grateful that security knows who he is by now, because if he were any other guy, he would’ve been detained the moment his feet touched the floor).

You seem to understand all his intentions by the time he’s within earshot. That’s the one thing about you that Isagi could only imagine wrapping his head around. All it takes is one glance, one second, for you to know what he desires. It almost makes his heart burst, at the realization that somebody loves him so much that they know every inch of him.

“I’m sweaty,” you say once you’ve escaped your teammates’ grasp.

Isagi raises an eyebrow, because when has that ever stopped him? “I don’t care.”

Your face is in his hands within seconds, cradled in delicate fingers that contrast the way his lips move with enough passion to light the world on fire. Curling your fingers around his belt loops, you pull him closer before resting your hands on the sides of his neck with your thumb tracing his jawline.

Being with Isagi under the spotlight like this is exhilarating.

The happiness, however, is short lived.

“What the hell!” Bachira shrieks, and Isagi pulls away — not too far, though — and rests his head against your forehead, sighing. “Does this mean my plan worked?”

Rin growls. “There is no way in hell you’re taking credit for this.”

“Actually,” Reo chimes in, “I’m pretty sure Chigiri, Nagi, and I are the reason for all of this.”

Zantetsu scoffs, immediately pushing past Reo to get closer to you and Isagi. “No, this means you guys got the flowers—”

Isagi lifts his head up, exasperated. “We’ve been dating for five months.”

He had been hoping that statement alone would be enough to get them to shut up.

He is dreadfully wrong.

“What?” Chigiri exclaims. “So, everything we did was for nothing?”

“Wait,” Kunigami interjects, eyebrows furrowed. “So that means you guys have been giggly and insufferable all these months because you’ve been dating?”

You muse. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“And that’s not going to change?”

Isagi throws his arm over your shoulder. “Oh, definitely not.”

Silence.

Then, Bachira tugs Rin’s sleeve and gestures for everybody to get into a huddle.

“Guys,” he says in what you assume is his attempt at a whisper, but you’re close enough to hear, even with the surprised clamor from the audience. “We need to break them up.”

Isagi squawks in protest, letting go of you to force himself into the huddle.

You watch the scene with a fond smile. One of your teammates comes up beside you and murmurs in wonder, “Your boyfriend and his friends sure are something.”

“What, idiots? You can say idiots.”

Your teammate snorts. “Yeah. It’s a little endearing, though.”

You laugh, nodding in agreement, and when Isagi calls you over to help, you take his hand and let him drag you into the circle, shooting down all the suggestions they’ve jokingly made about you dumping him.

You’ve come to the realization that you fit. Right here, next to Isagi, there will always be a place for you. Perhaps, then, that makes you an idiot by association.

(You don’t think you’d have it any other way).

#isagi #isagi yoichi #bllk #blue lock #isagi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #fic: love and all its cons

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punkpandapatrixk · 10 months

Text

🌓Sweet Girl Venus ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

This world contains in it a great number of elements that push most everyone to toughen up and abandon all senses of calm, grace and loveliness on the path towards growing up. In this world, so many people believe that the only way towards great achievements is by becoming tough. Whilst it is true that strength of character is crucial for survival, I don’t think toughness has to translate into being actually hard on oneself or everyone else.

Psychology says, ‘When someone is exceedingly critical of the smallest, most trivial things, that means they crave Love most of all.’

Here is a love letter from the Venusian Goddess harmonic of your Higher Self to yourself💌More than you may realise at this moment, you really are still a sweet and kind baby of gentle melodies and fragrant bouquet💐If you’d eventually realise this of yourself wholeheartedly, oh, that would be…

♥︎

SONG: teddy bear by Hamasaki Ayumi

MOVIE: Uptown Girls (2003)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

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Pile 1 – Bubblegum Blue Baby

VIBE: Hatsukoi Shoujo (Singer’s First Love) by Sheena Ringo & Noir by SUNMI

what’s really sweet about you – King of Wands Rx

You’re the type of person who, in spite of your passion and determination, aren’t cruel. You possess a strong character and try to uphold justice everywhere you go. You’re really a courageous fellow with a heart of gold. Baby-blue gold. I see that you’re often the type of friend who cheers other people up; you always have an idea in your mind to make someone else feels better about their darker days. When somebody is lacking courage or confidence in themselves, you’re the one who says, ‘I believe in you, tho! It’s clear to ME you can do it!’

And because you always seem so energetic, confident and capable, people easily believe your words. I think people haven’t told you enough how grateful they are that you’re always cheering them on like that. It’s not that they’re not grateful; it’s that they don’t know how to convey their gratitude properly. You know, sometimes words fail us. Especially when you’re the type of magickal butterfly that attracts naturally a lot of people who are not so confident in themselves. Such people, sometimes they simply don’t know how to utter words of gratitude because not many people in their lives have shown them enough appreciation. You could be, probably, like the ONLY person in their world who shows them appreciation like that!

You’re really so kind and charitable, more than you’ll ever hear from the mouths of other people♥︎

honouring your softness – King of Cups

And I guess, for the most part, such people really see that you’re an authoritative figure in your own respect. Because you appear to them so large and magnanimous, people don’t even suspect that you also have your down days. Certain days, you’re also in the mood for getting praises just like everybody else! But because you don’t get that as much as you’d like, sometimes you get sad. I think you struggle with a little self-loathing (or a sense of being a phoney) every now and then, feeling like you’re not good enough whilst everybody else seems to move ever forward, supported by your encouraging words.

Sometimes you feel envious of others for what they have. They seem to have everything going on a lot easier than you. But baby, stop! This is all your wild assumption. The truth is, people really be trying their best to put up a strong face, to put their best foot forward and come and tell you good news about them, because they want to get praises from you😅Yeah, some things in Life really be tricky like that. As convoluted it gets, this is actually their way of thanking you. You encouraged them before, you gave them so much courage, inspiration and motivation; now they’re doing better and they want to let you know it’s thanks to you! They want you to feel proud of both themselves and the magnanimous ways you’ve cared for them🥲

Well, now that you know… Pretty baby, stop being so sad!🐬

a happily ever after – 7 of Cups

You’re the type of person who, most of the time, has your head in the clouds. This makes you feel ungrounded often. I think you sometimes feel overwhelmed by reality itself. There’s a lot of things you don’t understand and you often feel lost about the meaning of existence and your place in the world. Fret not—you’re hardly a failure. You’re magick, baby💙Magickal beings often find living in the Human world incredibly taxing, so you can be patient with yourself—it’s a group thing LMAO

If anything, it is exactly because you’re a magical being like this that you can be sure you’re going to get everything you want out of Life. As long as you don’t allow yourself to stop dreaming in exchange for being practical! You see, the world really isn’t as linear as you think. So, be confident in who you are and your own personal favourite methods of manifesting. There’s quite nothing in this world you can’t have. You just need to learn to focus on one or two things at a time so you get each thing you want faster⚡️Isn’t so wonderful to be so magickal?

Know that you could be so much happier. You could be so much more spiritually content because your heart really is good. In spite of some things you may believe about your flaws, your Higher Self really doesn’t view you that way. In this world that is a world of chaos where 98% of people are hurting and hurting each other, it’s expected, so it’s not such a big deal. You really are such a kind Soul and your sweetness, your charitable bubbliness, just needs your acknowledgement so you can give yourself more tender care🌸

SWEET GIRL ENTERPRISE🔻💙

quantum glow-up! – Silver Physician (John Dee)

practical self-care tips♥︎ – Priestess of Magick

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Soft Enterprising Boss

VIBE: Cookie by NewJeans & YEPPI YEPPI by aespa

what’s really sweet about you – Ace of Pentacles

You are a powerhouse of creativity. You’re incredibly smart and resourceful. You’re like an idea bank but you couple that with real, tangible efforts that always produce real results. You have an amazing capability for laser focus and your work ethic is almost inimitable. With that, you’re truly a dependable friend who has a lot to offer those around you. People turn to you for advice, and you always have something valuable to offer. But yeah… that doesn’t mean your input is always appreciated. But that’s not your fault, right?

You need to admit that a lot of people are hopelessly confused. Sometimes, people simply want a friend to confide in and hear their whining. I know you’re almost always there to lend an ear even though it kinda irritates you that people seem so lost, so incapable of helping themselves. You genuinely want to help, but like already mentioned, sometimes all someone needs is a company that listens compassionately. I think you’re good as long as you’re there to be a pillar for someone in need.

So really, you needn’t concern yourself with how that someone will resolve their issues if they, indeed, do not seem that interested in resolving their own issues🤪It’s not like you’re getting paid for caring so much about other people’s personal drama!

honouring your softness – 2 of Pentacles

More than you give yourself credit for, you’re actually a really reasonable person. You’re grounded in reality and able to weigh options more realistically than most people you know. You’re always thinking of pros and cons in your head. That’s wonderfully responsible, of course, but sometimes you could get stuck in a rut when you simply can’t decide. Still, I think you’re such a wonderfully capable person who’s willing to go the distance when your mind’s finally set for a prize.

You’re ambitious and tenacious; no matter the challenge, you’re up for whatever. If it requires lessons, training, complex practices, extensive readings, you can do it all. But hey, stop to breathe a little, will you? The world doesn’t end tomorrow so you needn’t hurry so much, alright? It benefits no one to be so hard on yourself whatever the rewards may be at the end. What’s really exciting about this whole thing is how much you’re enjoying yourself as you gain knowledge and skills. So, I hope you remember this at all times.

As long as you’re having fun, Life’s good, you know. You can’t possibly think that Life’s only gonna get good when you’re at the end of your journey, right?

a happily ever after – 8 of Wands

You are a visionary—admit it. You have amazing ideas and your visions could possibly even change the world. You could become someone profoundly inspirational because there’s a teacher-like quality in you. If you feel that you’re not that good at communicating your ideas, it’s definitely a skill you can polish. You really have got it in you to become an effective speaker, even on a public platform, because your mind is usually quite methodical. Practice is all you need.

Even if you identify as someone shy, or timid, actually you will be so much happier in Life if you could be in the public eye for when you do so, you get to be charitable with your skills and knowledge. When you’re older in Life, you will have gained so much expertise in various disciplines, and if you’re not gonna share with others, how else are you gonna ever feel blessed?

You are a shooting star sent from Mars—or Venus—to teach Humanity a transcendent way of living. I hope you never forget how precious you are just for the fact you’ve reincarnated on Earth in this passage of time😜

SWEET GIRL ENTERPRISE🔻🧡

quantum glow-up! – Green Magus (John Dee)

practical self-care tips♥︎ – Priestess of Fertility

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – New-World Inventor

VIBE: Super Shy by NewJeans & Spicy by aespa

what’s really sweet about you – 4 of Cups

Gosh, you are such a loyal one that sometimes it comes to your detriment. You’re the type of person who could go the extra mile to accompany someone who doesn’t even deserve your compassion. You’re willing to sacrifice a lot to make another person feels less alone even when you’re not getting the same in return. I think you have a noble heart and that’s something clearly valuable. But… I hope you know when to stop giving your support to those who are clearly losers, hopeless cases. There’s only so much you could give to another when your own Cups aren’t getting filled in return.

‘People treat you the way they view you. Be blind if you want.’

I know you don’t want to disappoint because you know how depressing it is to get disappointed. You know first hand all the painful sensations that come with having your trust broken. But the way I see it, you shouldn’t turn your past disappointments into a goody two shoes tendency to please everybody. Are you certain this isn’t just a weird overcompensation that could destroy you in the end? You may wanna check out this concept of a Good Girl Syndrome. Understanding the symptoms could just help you unravel the patterns🧵🪡✂️

honouring your softness – Queen of Pentacles

You are an Old Soul, and it doesn’t matter how young or old you are right now, you have this innate desire to be of service to others. On a profound Soul level, you have this magnanimous energy that makes you want to care and nourish those you come into contact with. You are really a kind person, incredibly generous, to a fault LMAO After all, this Human world is littered with shameless takers who do not set a limit for themselves. You don’t wanna be stupid enough to get drained all the time by ingrates, right?

So, it’s time to stop giving too much of yourself and start affirming that you, too, deserve the company of people who will nourish you as much as you them. If you don’t start reaffirming this daily, it may never manifest, which would be such a shame because you’re so deserving to be blessed with warmth and sweet emotions🥧

a happily ever after – Page of Swords Rx

At the present moment, you may be thinking you’re simply afraid of conflicts and arguments. Heck, you don’t even like feeling other people’s negative emotions. If you were to stand up for yourself, you’re sure everybody would give you a nasty look, or even spew very unkind words to make you feel bad. So you know this and you try to avoid that as much as possible. But that’s got to stop now because when you really think about it, all the chaos and conflicts are WITHIN you. Is that even worth it? Do you think you deserve to live like this?

‘You’re keeping the peace around you, but what about the peace in you?’

I’d like to remind you, you’re really such a smart person. You’re so knowledgeable and actually, if you’re honest, have great desires to be of service to the world. You’re a high-value somebody, so you’re allowed to muster the courage to affirm that you CAN take up space and still maintain your boundaries. Alright? One day you’re going to really change the world. But right now, you need to change your world first.

Don’t be afraid of being seen as a bitch, especially when you know you’re not a bad person🍒Sweet girls can still be SPICY🌶

SWEET GIRL ENTERPRISE🔻💗

quantum glow-up! – Gold Astronomer (John Dee)

practical self-care tips♥︎ – Priestess of Innocence

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

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hiraya-rawr · 2 years

Text

I can go anywhere I want, anywhere I want — just not home .

characters !! diluc, thoma (ft. ayato), kaeya, kazuha

content !! gn reader, kamisato reader (thoma), character lore spoilers, can be platonic/romantic, found family themes

about !! you encounter someone who can go everywhere but home

inspired !! my tears ricochet - taylor swift 🎵

— diluc .

“I hope you know how generous I’m being,” You say, sliding a bowl of mushroom soup to the redhead, “Not everyone would let a stranger stay in their home for a few days. More so if said stranger refuses to say a thing about themselves.”

It’s been a few days since you found the wanderer on the brink of death, snow piling on top of him by layers. Snezhnayan winters were not kind, if it weren’t for your dog demanding to go on a walk, you wouldn’t have bothered to check for any dying men on your street in the middle of nowhere.

“. . . I have offered my thanks,” He mutters, grabbing a spoon for the soup, “And I’ve told you. I’m simply traveling.”

“Travelers don’t usually lie soaked by their own frozen blood around here.” You sit across from him, your own hot bowl of soup nestled between gloved fingers, “But seeing as you have a delusion, I suppose you’re trusted by the Fatui. It makes me wonder why you won’t simply ask them for help instead.”

“. . .”

At his silence, you chuckle, “Calm down. I don’t know your story, but I’d understand why you’re hiding away from them. They tend to abuse their authority, but I guess that’s the government for you.”

“Not Mondstadt. . .”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.”

You point your spoon at him, a large smile on your face, “You said Mondstadt. You’re a Mondstadter, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t reply. Not that he needs to, you’re already rambling away with the newfound knowledge, “I knew it! Your accent suits Mondstadt the most! Not that I would know much. I’ve been in Snezh my whole life– oh, oh but what is it like? Out there? The land of freedom and song–“

Diluc finds himself sitting back, amused by your outburst. It’s certainly the most you two have talked in the days he spent recovering from his injuries. Despite initially not wanting to divulge any information about himself, he can’t help but beam with pride at the praise for his beloved nation.

“–And the wine! Oh, the wine- I’ve heard all about it. They’re imported here at a very high price, I could only imagine what a dandelion wine would taste like-“

“It’s not that amazing as it’s made out to be. But there are other drinks worth noting-“

“Like Death After Noon?”

“. . . I was going to say grape juice and cider.”

“You’re a little on the boring side, aren’t you?”

He rolls his eyes.

The conversation flows. The topic? Mondstadt. He tells you about the giant statue that looms over the city, one that you’ve only seen in paintings. You ask about the fields and weather, and he tells you of Dragonspine’s cold akin to that of Snezhnaya. When he starts to talk about the seashell filled beaches, you note the longing look on his face.

“. . . You really do love Mond, don’t you?” You ask, pushing aside the now-empty bowl.

“I do.” He answers, it sounds soft but firm.

“Then why are you here?”

It’s a question you were scared of asking. In fear that he’d hide away in his shell again. He goes quiet, looking down on his bowl.

"I. . . I can't go back."

"And why is that?"

Because going back would be acknowledging his father's death, his brother's betrayal, he's running away— he wants to go far, far away from the reality he's found himself in and fulfill a vengeance that couldn't be satisfied—

"There are things I have to do." He places down his spoon. It clanks on the hard wood of the table. "Please leave it at that."

He ends the conversation and you bite back your lip. He was building his walls again, walls that took you too long to crack down. You stand, taking his bowl in your hands along with your own to wash.

As you turn away from him, you hear him reach out softly.

"But. . . If I ever go back," he starts, "And if you'd like to explore beyond Snezh, then. . . " You turn to him, an eyebrow raised. "You're welcome to seek me out. I wouldn't mind touring you of my homeland." A small smile graces his face, it's the most expressive he's ever been since arriving.

“So you can smile!” You laugh, turning to the sink and starting the tap. He’ll have to help you wash them. “You look more prince-like when you do. Like a noble.”

He nearly chokes on his drink.

It takes years before you found the courage to ever step foot out of Snezhnaya, much less enter Mondstadt. One of the first things you signed up for was a tour of the ancestral Dawn Winery fields. Imagine your surprise, spotting a certain young master jotting down stocks as he looks over the vineyard.

Your shock mirrored his own, before it forms into a smile.

"I believe I promised you a personal tour?"

— thoma .

"What do you mean the borders are closed?"

"The borders are closed, the ports are closed, no ship is allowed to dock, these are the orders of the Shogun under the new decree."

Trapped in a foreign nation with little to no knowledge of its culture; with only ten mora in his pockets and a bottle of dandelion wine for a father he can't even find, Thoma finds himself in quite a predicament. This happened hours ago, with no idea what to do or where to go, Thoma sits under a shady tree.

"I don't think I could even buy myself a meal tomorrow. . ." He sighs, glancing down on the only thing he could afford. A measly looking meat bun wrapped within rice papers.

"Woof!"

Thoma turns to the side. A dog looks at him with eager and beady eyes.

"Hello there," he grins, "You on your own too?"

"Arf!"

The dog eyes the meat bun eagerly, tail wagging. Thoma really shouldn't, he really, really shouldn't be offering his only (and probably last) meal he could afford to a stray.

So he turns to the side, holding the meat bun closer to his chest. It's his meal.

"Woof woof!"

He nearly sobs in defeat. "Alright, alright, we can half–" ripping the meal into two, he gently places it in front of the stray who's only too eager to wolf it down from him.

"Arf!" A second dog appears by the first, eyes just as sparkly as the other as it eyes the half Thoma's holding.

Curse his weakness to puppy eyes.

He sighs, offering the other half to the stray, "You're lucky you're cute. I'm willing to starve because of y–"

"You there! What suspicious things are you offering to my dogs!" Several footsteps make their way to his spot, he looks up at the sound of the voice. Two individuals approach him, their garments clearly worth more than anything Thoma has ever owned. One was a taller male with a mole on his face, the other a little younger, following them was a small entourage of what Thoma could only assume were guards.

"A-ah, suspicious things?" He stutters. Did he somehow trespass into some noble's territory?

"Yes! That thing you handed. Are you poisoning my dogs?" You huff accusingly. This foreigner was a little suspicious. In the first place, it was strange to meet anyone foreign in the land of eternity, much more someone lounging about in the streets holding a bottle of alcohol.

"Poison? No way! It's just a meat bun! They looked hungry so I offered them my meal."

"A. . . meat bun?" You repeat carefully. That measly thing can't possibly be a meat bun, right? You turn to Ayato, whispering to him with a hand held up between your lips, "Brother, what do we do? Father said to be wary of suspicious individuals. I think he's suspicious. He's feeding the dogs weird things!"

Ayato smiles in amusement, "That meat bun certainly looked odd, but I don't think he's suspicious-" He turns to the blonde, standing upright, "You said that that was your meal?"

Thoma isn't sure why they looked so wary, "Yes? I mean, I'm aware it isn't much. But it isn't poison or anything!"

You share a look with your brother, Thoma recognizes that look to be pity. Was he really being pitied right now because of his meal? He wanted to groan away in embarrassment.

"Look, I don't want any trouble," Thoma says reluctantly, "I wasn't aware that these dogs were yours. If it solves anything, I can find another place to sit–"

"Brother, this poor foreigner must be starving! We must help him!" You whisper rather loudly to the boy next to you who only nods in agreement.

"I agree. How kind of my sibling to think of others." He pats your head, turning to Thoma with that same somewhat sly smile.

"These dogs are strays my sibling often feeds. They must've bothered you for your. . . meal since we're late to arrive today," Ayato explains, approaching him, "To repay your kindness of feeding the strays we're responsible for, you're welcome to join us for lunch."

A maid lays out a blanket across the ground, while another server brings out various goods from a basket. Thoma isn't sure how to reply as he finds himself seated between the two nobles.

"Um- ah, is it really alright for me to be eating this?"

Still a little shy about being on the receiving end of kindness, he gestures to the quality looking meat sandwiches.

"Eating this? No, this isn't for us." You state, reaching to grab a sandwich and handing it to an eager puppy, "This is for the strays. What my brother meant was that we'll treat you back in the Teahouse."

"Erm. . . teahouse?"

"Yup! Komore Teahouse. They serve excellent cuisines."

"O-oh, I've never been to one."

"Where are you from anyway?" You ask curiously, eyeing the blond's pretty green eyes.

"Mondstadt."

Ayato smiles, "You're a long way from home. . . The situation for foreigners now is rather difficult. If you stay with us, perhaps my family could offer you some assistance."

Thoma stares at the two of you, he's weighing his options. He needs a place to stay, maybe find a job, at least until the decree is stopped.

It's only temporary. Surely, he'll find a chance to go home someday.

"Alright."

— kaeya .

"I know I said I'd accompany you for the day, but don't you think we've traveled all of Mond already?" You whine, massaging your aching knees. It's been a long day of walking; from Springvale to Starfell Valley to Windrise, collecting Calla Lilies, Lampgrass flowers, and seashells by the beach.

It was an odd adventure, and an even more unusual request from the cryo user.

"I simply don't feel like being alone today." He told you hours prior. The tone was flirtatious and it almost made you blush, but you're not exactly an ignorant person. You're aware of the date.

It's April 30th.

To many, it's simply another day on the calendar; but to two brothers, it means so much more.

You never did find out what happened on Master Diluc's birthday. You were aware that it marked the passing of Crepus Ragnvindr, but that was pretty much it. The events that followed were more important to you; from befriending the seemingly lost Kaeya (you might never forget the heartbreaking look on his face back then) to witnessing his significant change into Cavalry Captain.

"Truly, I'm grateful for the good company," Kaeya chuckles at your display, snapping you from your thoughts, "How about one last stop? Then I'll escort you back home."

You hold back a sigh, reminding yourself that he does seem a little melancholic today. Besides, you don't exactly abhor his company.

"Very well."

He smiles, leading you up the hill near Springvale, where the Anemo Archon statue rests. It was a scenic view; the wind was gentle and the sun was slowly sinking into the horizon. As the archon statue comes into view, with fluttering crystalflies wary of your presence, you notice Kaeya's pace slowing.

He pauses right before the statue, but his starry eye was set on a more distant view.

The Dawn Winery.

There's a certain look on his face, something you can't quite identify but it clenches your heart all the same. Somehow, you want to reach out and hold him.

"You can place the flowers here." Kaeya says, kneeling by the statue and taking out the seashells he collected from the beach.

"I didn't take you for someone religious." You raise an eyebrow curiously, yet you follow his instructions and start arranging the flowers.

". . . There's a gravesite in the winery. It's entrance is reserved for family only." He says softly, fingers brushing over yours to hold the bundle of flowers. "Perhaps Barbatos would be so kind as to bring our prayers with the wind. That it may reach F- Master Crepus."

You stay silent, biting your lower lip. He's showing that face again, the one you've always hated on him during the early days of your friendship.

"If you ever feel. . . " Lonely, you think, but the word sounds like it could scare him away, "Like you need company, you could always invite me again. We can go anywhere you want."

"Anywhere I want, huh?" He smiles at you, a rare and gentle smile, "Alright."

The offerings did reach the tombstone that evening. Though it wasn't by Barbatos' grace, but by a redhead passing by the statue and recognizing the odd combination of gifts.

— kazuha .

"Captain Beidou doesn't take kindly to stowaways." You point your sword at the man. It was a normal day, having just left the port of Inazuma. You decided to check on the stocks below deck to ensure that nothing falls around as you go through a thunderous storm.

Imagine your surprise upon seeing a ragged samurai hunched behind crates with one bloodied hand holding onto something shiny.

You frown at the lack of reply. "What's that you go there? Something you stole?"

In all honesty, you're a little scared at his dead expression. His eyes are faraway, distant, like they're refusing to acknowledge a reality.

". . . are you hurt?" You ask, this time trying a different approach. His sword rested ways away from him, he seemed defenseless, almost like a lost kitten seeking shelter from the storm. You slowly kneel in front of him, weapon still by your side as you try to peek at what he's holding onto so tightly.

It was a vision without a glow. A musty fog seemingly trapped inside the crystal.

You've heard of the vision hunt decree— it's why the crew was in such a hurry to leave the archipelago, after all. You knew visions were being forcibly taken away, placed like trophies on the archon's statue. Frankly, it disgusted you to be displayed like that.

But why was this one murky? What had happened to the owner?

You weren't sure what kind of look you had on your face. Maybe it was confusion or anger, but the wanderer's eyes landed on your own and he pushes himself to speak.

"Please. . . don't send me back." He says and it sounds heartbreaking with the softness of his voice. You clench your jaw, holding back a sigh as you stand back upright.

"I'll inform Captain Beidou about you. I don't think she'd send you back, but. . . we should also get your hand treated." You say, reaching out to help him stand, "I have some bandages in my quarters. Do you think you could make it there?"

He nods once, grasping your hand as you both make your way above deck. Later, you'll find yourself with an incomparable travel companion. One that hums of songs that can lull any pirate to sleep. You'll reach every end of Teyvat with him, with the ocean welcoming you in every turn.

You're never stationary with him, always on the move. Despite that, perhaps he could find a permanent home with you.

m.list 2 || consider supporting me on ko-fi !

note !! this was written before i played kazuha's quest. in the lore, im aware that kazuha escaped inazuma thanks to the yashiro commission and not as a stowaway hahahah

taglist !! @absolut-wildflower @boundedbyfate @sadlonelybagel @eissaaaa @ladycoleigh @milkypompon @bloodreaper08 @irethepotato @x-zho @roriver @mich-cola @mxsomn @ackrylik @nicebonescomrade @starforecasts @stygianoir @nejibot @yuminako @eccedentesiast-sapphic @nebulaera @nuttytani @r4gnivindr @stygianoir14

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physalian · 2 months

Text

What No One Tells You About Writing #5

Part 4

Part 3

Part 2

Shorter list this time, but longer points. I expect this one to be more divisive, but it is what it is, and this is what ‘no one tells you’ about writing, after all. This one’s all about feedback and how to take it, and give it.

1. Not everyone will like your book, no matter how good it is

I’ve said this before, granted, but sometimes you can have very arbitrary reasons for not liking an otherwise great story. For example: I refuse to watch Hamilton. Why? Because everyone I knew and their dog was trying to cram it down my throat when it came out and I still don’t really like musicals, and didn’t appreciate the bombardment of insisting I’ll like it simply because everyone else does. I’m sure it’s great! I’m just not watching it until I want to watch it.

It can be other reasons, too. I won’t read fanfic that’s written in first person, doesn’t matter how good it is. Someone might not watch a TV show because the primary cast is white or not-white. Someone might not watch a movie because an actor they despise is in it, even if the role is fantastic. Someone might not watch or read a story that’s too heavy on the romance, or not enough, or too explicit. I went looking for beta readers and came across one who wouldn’t touch a book where the romance came secondary in a sci-fi or fantasy novel. Kept on scrolling.

Someone can just think your side character is unfunny and doesn’t hear the same music as everyone else. Someone can just not like your writing style with either too much or not enough fluff, or too much personality in the main narrator. Or they have triggers that prevent them from enjoying it the way you intend.

How someone expresses that refusal is not your job to manage. You cannot force someone to like your work and pushing too hard will just make it worse. Some people just won’t like it, end of story.

2. Criticism takes a very long time to take well

Some people are just naturally better at taking constructive criticism, some have a thick skin, some just have a natural confidence that beats back whatever jabs the average reader or professional editor can give. If you’re like me, you might’ve physically struggled at first to actually read the feedback and insisted that your beta readers color-coded the positive from the negative.

It can be a very steep climb up the mountain until you reach a point where you know you’re good enough, and fully appreciate that it is actually “constructive” and anything that isn’t, isn’t worth your time.

The biggest hurdle I had to climb was this: A criticism of my work is not a criticism of me as a person.

Yes, my characters are built with pieces of my personality and worldview and dreams and ideals, but the people giving you feedback should be people who either already know you as a person and are just trying to help, or are people you pay to be unbiased and only focus on what’s on the page.

Some decisions, like a concerning moral of your story, is inadvertently a criticism of your own beliefs—like when I left feedback that anxiety can’t just be loved away and believing so is a flawed philosophy. I did that with intent to help, not because I thought the writer incompetent or that they wrote it in bad faith.

I’m sure it wasn’t a fun experience reading what I had to say, either. It’s not fun when I get told a character I love and lost sleep over getting right isn’t getting the same reception with my betas. But they’re all doing it (or at least they all should be doing it) from a place of just wanting to help, not to insult your writing ability. Even if your writing objectively sucks, you’re still doing a lot more just by putting words on paper than so many people who can’t bring themselves to even try.

As with all mediums subjects to critique, one need not be an author to still give valuable feedback. I’m not a screenwriter, but from an audience’s standpoint, I can tell you what I think works. Non-authors giving you pointers on the writing process? You can probably ignore that. Non-authors giving you pointers on how your character lands? Then, yeah, they might have an opinion worth considering.

3. Parsing out the “constructive” from the criticism isn’t easy

This goes for people giving it as well. Saying things like “this book sucks” is an obviously useless one. Saying “I didn’t like this story because it was confusing and uncompelling” is better. “I think this story was confusing and uncompelling because of X, and I have some suggestions here that I think can make it better.”

Now we’re talking.

Everyone’s writing style is different. Some writers like a lot of fluff and poetic prose to immerse you in the details and the setting, well beyond what you need to understand the scene or the plot. Their goal is to make this world come alive and help you picture the scene exactly the way they see it in their minds.

There’s writers who are very light on the sensory fluff and poetry, trying to give you the impression of what the scene should look and feel like and letting you fill in the missing pieces with your own vision.

Or there’s stories that take a long time to get anywhere, spending many pages on the small otherwise insignificant slice-of-life details as opposed to laser-precision on the plot, and those who trim off all the fat for a fast-paced rollercoaster.

None of these are inherently bad or wrong, but audiences do have their preferences.

The keyword in “constructive criticism” is “construct”. As in, your advice is useless if you can’t explain why you think an element needs work. “It’s just bad” isn’t helpful to anyone.

When trying to decide if feedback has merit, try to look at whatever the critic gives you and explain what they said to yourself in your own words. If you think changing the piece in question will enhance your story or better convey what you’re trying to say, it’s probably solid advice.

Sometimes you just have to throw the whole character out, or the whole scene, whole plot line and side quest. Figuring out what you can salvage just takes time, and practice.

4. Just when you think you’re done, there’s more

There’s a quote out there that may or may not belong to Da Vinci that goes “art is never finished, only abandoned.” Even when you think your book is as good as it can be, you can still sleep on it and second-guess yourself and wonder if something about it could have been done better or differently.

There is such a thing as too much editing.

But it also takes a long time to get there. Only 10-15% of writing is actually penning the story. The rest is editing, agonizing over editing, re-editing, and staring at the same few lines of dialogue that just aren't working to the point that you dream about your characters.

It can get demoralizing fast when you think you’ve fixed a scene, get the stamp of approval from one reader, only for the next one to come back with valid feedback neither of you considered before. So you fix it again. And then there’s another problem you didn’t consider. And then you’re juggling all these scene bits and moments you thought were perfect, only for it to keep collapsing.

It will get there. You will have a manuscript you’re proud of, even if it’s not the one you thought you were going to write. My newest book isn’t what I set out to write, but if I stuck to that original idea, I never would have let it become the work that it is.

5. “[Writing advice] is more like guidelines than actual rules.”

Personally, I think there’s very few universal, blanket pieces of writing advice that fit every book, no exceptions, no conditions, no questions asked. Aside from: Don’t sacrifice a clear story for what you think is cool, but horribly confusing.

For example, I’m American, but I like watching foreign films from time to time. The pacing and story structure of European films can break so many American rules it’s astonishing. Pacing? What pacing? It’s ~fancy~. It wants to hang on a shot of a random wall for fifteen seconds with no music and no point because it’s ~artsy~. Or there is no actual plot, or arc, it’s just following these characters around for 90 minutes while they do a thing. The entire movie is basically filler. Or the ending is deeply unsatisfying because the hoity-toity filmmaker believes in suffering for art or… something.

That doesn’t fly with mainstream American audiences. We live, breathe, and die on the Hero’s Journey and expect a three-act-structure with few novel exceptions.

That does not mean your totally unique or subversive plot structure is wrong. So much writing advice I’ve found is solid advice, sure, but it doesn’t often help me with the story I’m writing. I don’t write romance like the typical romance you’d expect (especially when it comes to monster allegories). There’s some character archetypes I just can’t write and refuse to include–like the sad, abusive, angsty, 8-pack abs love interest, or the comedic relief.

Beyond making sure your audience can actually understand what you’re trying to say, both because you want your message to be received, and you don’t want your readers to quit reading, there is an audience for everything, and exceptions to nearly every rule, even when it comes to writing foundations like grammar and syntax.

You don’t even have to put dialogue in quotes. (Be advised, though, that the more ~unique~ your story is, the more likely you are to only find success in a niche audience).

Lots of writing advice is useful. Lots of it is contradictory. Lots of it is outdated because audience expectations are changing constantly. There is a balance between what you *should* do as said by other writers, and what you think is right for your story, regardless of what anyone else says.

Just don’t make it confusing.

—

I just dropped my cover art and summary for my debut novel. Go check it out and let me know what you think!

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #editing #constructive criticism #what no one tells you about writing

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crazyk-imagine · 1 year

Text

Mended Relationships and the Future

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Fem!reader Characters: Fem!reader, Ted Lasso, Coach Beard, Keeley Jones, Jamie Tartt, Rebecca Welton, Isaac Mcadoo, Colin Hughs, Sam Obisanya, Dani Rojas, Jan Maas, Roy Kent, literally all of the players (I just can’t think of their names) Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, cursing, mentions of pregnancies, mentions of reader not taking care of themselves (don’t do this), Jamie being sweet, reader and Jamie being dummies for a second, the team being so goddamn adorable, the team gives such family vibes, Jamie pretending the reader and he are engaged so he can stay with her, Ted and Beard are a powerful duo, this is my favorite TL fic that I’ve written Word Count: 3,783

A/N: Bits and pieces are based on this post

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You walk into the coach’s office with your hands in your hoodie pocket, clutching onto your phone to keep your hands busy. "Why did you wake me up and force me here, Ted?"

"That's not a can-do attitude."

Your expression doesn't change, if anything, you look more tired and drained. Another reason why the mustached man got you out of your home. "Ted."

He sighs. "I wanted to check in on you, haven't seen you in a minute."

You sigh. "I would prefer it if I were in my bed right now to be honest with you."

"After we go out to lunch."

"I want to be out of here before I run into..." You pause when you almost say his name. "You know what- I'm just- I’m gonna go." You barely turn around and hear the door open.

It takes you less than a second to duck, which makes Ted feel a little bad but doesn't change his mind.

He knows you two need to talk, especially when neither of you want to admit who broke up with who... or why it happened.

Your emotions take a toll on your body again and you crawl towards the trash can, dry heaving until you feel it coming up (again).

Beard kindly closes the door before anyone could walk in or hear you as Ted rubs the space between your shoulders.

"How long have you been feeling like this?"

You shrug.

"How long?" He asks again.

"A few weeks."

Ted glances over at his long-time buddy with wide eyes. "Please don't get upset or take offense when I ask this but have you-"

'Play dumb. Play dumb.' "Have I what? Use words, my brain isn't functioning off your noises."

"Is there a possibility that you could be, you know, with child?"

Your head snaps up. 'He knows.' "Why would you ask that?"

"You have a few of the signs."

"When was the last time you went to a doctor?" Beard chimes in.

"A while ago."

"So, you know?"

"Whether or not I'm pregnant with my ex-boyfriend’s baby, who coincidentally told me he doesn't want kids just as I wanted to tell him I do. Yeah, it was right as I was about to tell him I am with child, which is why I've been dodging all of you but you and Beard here," you point to Ted's sidekick, who waves. "Dragged me out of my house."

"Oh, honey."

"Does he know?" Coach beard intervenes (again).

"What do you mean?"

"You said, you wanted to tell him... did you?" Ted politely asks.

"He broke up with me, so I didn't give him my surprise, but I tell people it was mutual because he asked me if," the tears roll down your cheeks. "If it was okay. The fucking ex-cockiest player of all, asked me if I was going to be okay, so of course I said yes and then he left. We haven't spoken since."

"He should know."

"I know but he is scared to death to have his own kids. Why would I-" You scoot back and rest your head against the wall. "I want to go home. I have a few things coming later today and I need to be there for them. It’s time I start," you take a deep breath. “Getting things ready.”

"We can get those later, I've gotta make sure you're okay right now."

"I'd be better if this nausea, vomiting combo would go away."

"Do you want me to have Keeley get you a ginger ale or something?"

"Yeah."

The door opens and there she is. She stares at you with the same look she gives you every time you throw up. "I had a feeling you were going to need this."

Jamie sees what he imagines is a glimpse of you sitting in his coach’s office. He furrows his brows, wondering if it was really, you or if it's a figment of his imagination... again.

It wouldn’t be the first time this week.

"What?" She practically screams when Ted tells her on behalf of you, the Jamie not knowing part; she already knew you were pregnant, but she thought he knew and decided not to be in either of your lives. Now she feels a little bad about not being nice to him.

You bury your head in your hands. "Shut up. Don't shout anymore, please."

"Can you blame me? That's big fucking news babes. I thought he already knew."

"Yeah, I know. Just, shut the door please."

She doesn't, so you push yourself up and close the door.

You sway as you take a step back, “oh, boy.” You can hear their voices but not hear their words. You feel yourself falling backwards before it fades to darkness.

Ted and Beard catch you, carefully laying you down so the latter can call for an ambulance.

Jamie steps closer to the office, sensing something’s happened. He opens the door and his jaw dropped as he’s about to ask what's going on until his eyes land on you.

He immediately falls to his knees beside you, holding your face in his hands, not caring about the rug burn that’s going to ache later. "What happened?"

No one responds.

"What fucking happened?"

Ted doesn't feel he should be the one to tell him and does all that he can to try and calm down his player. "She's fine, she probably didn't have enough to eat for breakfast, is all."

"Bullshit. She's done that before and never fainted before." He stares down, studying your face. "So, why is she fucking unconscious?"

You don't know anything that happened within the last few hours.

All you know is that there is an annoying beeping sound coming from the side of you and your one hand is warmer than it normally is.

You slowly open your eyes, blinking multiple times as you try to adjust to the lighting. You look for the source of the warmth and find Jamie, holding your hand with his head rested on his arm with his head facing you.

The door opens and you find Ted peaking in.

The way his shoulder sags in relief makes you feel bad.

He tiptoes closer and lets you know what happened.

"Why is he here?"

He smiles as he peaks over at the sleepy man. "He didn't leave your side."

"How did he know?"

"He came in as we were calling for an ambulance. You scared him, he would barely let the paramedics help."

"Isn't family only allowed in here?"

"Apparently you two are engaged."

You owlishly blink. "What?"

"He said you two were engaged and he needed, no, no. That's not right, he demanded, there it is. He demanded to be in the room with you. I wasn't here for most of it. In the room I mean but I think he knows because he looked very shocked and then came in here when they told him he could and hasn’t left since."

The coach ignores the fact that your heart monitor spikes as you ask, "he knows?"

"I think so."

Jamie moves a little in his sleep.

"That's my cue to leave."

"Wait- no. Ted. Come back." You glance between him and Jamie. "Ted," you hiss. "Come back here."

Jamie squeezes your hand as he slowly begins to wake up.

You look back at him just in time to hear the door close. You throw your head back and sigh.

"Sweetheart?"

You slowly turn your head to stare at him, your eyes becoming sad.

His shoulders sag in relief as a slow sigh escapes his parted lips. "How are you feeling? I should- I should go get the doctor, shouldn't I?"

You reach for him, grabbing onto him before he could leave. "Jaim. Jaim?"

He doesn't turn around but settles back into his seat.

"Jam-Jam?"

A sniffle fills the room.

"Jamie, look at me."

He shakes his head. You tighten your grip on his arm, ignoring the familiar burning sensation in your nose. "Jamie, I need you to look at me."

"Why?" He sniffles, staring at you with his now, bloodshot eyes. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

"Don't throw that question my way, Tartt."

"No more, Jam-Jam?"

"I was going to tell you."

"What? After the birth?"

"I'm more tempted to now." You wipe the stray tear that tipped past your eye lid before he could see. "I initially planned on telling you right when you broke up with me but, we see how well that turned out."

“Wh- is that what you had been trying to do the whole time?”

You nod and lean forward, drawing him into you; needing to comfort him and be comforted all at once.

He moves closer to you, closing his eyes at the feeling of your hand against his face; something he hasn’t felt in what feels like, forever. He hadn’t realized you were wiping away his tears.

“I wanted to figure out the best way to tell you because, I mean we hadn’t exactly talked about us having kids before and I kind of figured that with everything that went on with your dad. I thought it was going to make it hard for you to think that you could be a good dad. Which, I think is stupid.”

He opens his mouth to ask what you mean until you continue.

“I mean, how could you not be a good dad because personally I think you’d be absolutely fucking phenomenal.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, “big time. You’re already doing better than your dad.”

“What do you mean?”

You smile and sniff. “You’re not making any of the stupid decisions he has.”

“I made one.”

You tilt your head. “What was that?”

“I broke up with you. I just-” He pulls back from you (something he does when he feels like he’s undeserving of something). “I thought- I thought you were pulling away to break up with me and you couldn’t figure out how to do it, so I-”

“So, you thought breaking up with me first, was a better option?”

He nods, scratching his head.

“Come closer.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he weakly argues.

“Come here.”

He scoots the chair closer.

“I need you to be honest with me when I ask these questions, okay?”

He nods.

You sigh through your nose and reach for his hand. “Is there any part of you that does not want to be a part of either of our lives?”

“No.”

“Do you want to be with me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to leave any time soon?”

“The fuck do you take me for? I’m not going to leave you ever,” he stands up and bends down, staring into your eyes before leaning down to kiss you. “Okay? I love you too fucking much to let you go again. I hated being away from you.”

“Same here but, I’m really happy you’re here… even if it was because I fainted.”

“Speaking of, why did that happen exactly?”

“I- well- I hadn’t had anything-”

“Let’s just cut the bullshit, have you been taking proper care of yourself since we were separated?”

You shamefully shake your head.

He doesn’t show his disappointment, but you know it’s there.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle.

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry. Isn’t that- crying is stressful on the baby, ain’t it?”

“Not so much- I mean, maybe?”

“Okay, well.” He grabs your hands, bringing your attention to him. “Let’s take a few deep breathes so we can calm down for Baby Tartt.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Do do do doo.”

“Listen to you. Guess I rubbed off on you, eh?” You roll your eyes, not believing that for a second. “Does any of what you’ve said within the last two minutes sound anything like what your dad could say?”

“Not in the least bit.”

“See, exactly. It further proves you’re different and how much you’ve grown from the cocky man who couldn’t care less about anyone else.”

“Hey. That’s someone we don’t speak of.”

“Of course,” you salute him. You two can barely keep your amusement to yourselves and break into a fit of smiles and giggles.

He stares at you, watching as you wipe your cheeks and leans up, kissing your forehead before placing his on top of your head. “I was,” he hesitates to finish his sentence.

You nod and cup his cheek, letting him know you’re there, a simple gesture to let him know you want to hear what he has to say.

“-so scared when I saw you lying there unconscious.”

Your heart drops at the way his voice cracks. “Jaim. Jaim. Look at me.”

He shakes his head.

You don’t push any further and instead opt for bringing him closer, letting him rest against your chest, squeezing you in a hug.

It takes a few minutes before Jamie manages to calm himself down enough to revert back to your adorable boyfriend. “Oh, shit. I didn’t hurt the baby, did I?” He asks, now scared to touch you.

“No. You didn’t.”

You hold out your hand for him, “do you trust me?”

He nods, “’course I do.”

“Give me your hand.”

He slowly inches his hand closer and closer to you.

You huff and reach for him. “Are you ready?”

He doesn’t move or make a noise as you place his hand over your belly. “Am I supposed to be feeling anything?”

“Other than knowing the fact you are going to be a father soon enough, no. I’m not that far along for us to feel any kicking.”

He bends down as a breath of relief escapes him. “Thank god, I thought I was supposed to feel kicking or something and I didn’t, which scared me the hell out of me because I thought he already hated me.”

“He?”

“I mean, hello,” he gestures to himself. You roll your eyes and take your hand back from him. “You’re so going to be cursed with girls.” “How can you say that?”

“Have you met yourself?”

“I have and we’re actually quite happy together, sorry for the late notice, sweetheart.”

You close your eyes and let out a dramatic sigh.

Ted peaks his head in through the door. “I see you two have talked things out? Hopefully, if not. No pressure. Well, maybe a little seeing as I have everyone waiting in the hall.”

“Everyone?” You repeat.

The coach nods. “Give me second.” He looks back over his shoulder, pretending to count, “one, two, four. Yep, everyone.”

You place your hand on your forehead. “Suddenly the thought of everyone knowing makes me nauseous.”

“Hey, hey. Look at me.”

You turn your head and look at your favorite person ever… for now.

“If we can get through the team being little shits and the press making unnecessary comments about our relationship, we can get through the team knowing.”

“We can?” He gives you an affirmative nod, “we can.”

“We can.”

“Atta girl.”

“Alright, guys. They said okay,” Ted waves everyone in.

“I suddenly realize how many of you there actually are,” you comment.

Sam, Dani, and Colin chuckled.

“As captain, I feel like it’s my duty to ask,” Isaac leans closer to you, talking to you in a softer tone than his normal one. “How are you?”

You smile, “I’m better now.”

“Good, that’s what we like to hear. Ain’t that right, team?”

“Yes, coach!”

“And now I’m scared.”

“Oh, don’t be scared especially when you’re carrying a special bundle of joy,” the mustached man points out.

“Oh fuck.”

“Something the matter, Roy?” Ted asks.

“Yeah. She’s carrying Tartt’s baby.”

“I’m pretty sure they covered that topic back in school but continue.”

“There’s going to be a baby brought into the world soon.”

“Yeah?” Ted glances over at Beard, who shrugs.

“With his blood coursing through its veins,” he points to your ex-not-ex-boyfriend.

It’s quiet for three seconds before everyone groans and rolls their eyes, they think about what it could be like with a baby Jamie.

“Hey, hey now. Let’s not think about something as crazy as that because this baby is a good thing.”

“Yeah?” Jamie whispers, glancing back at Ted, not letting go of your hand.

“Yes, it is,” the coach nods. “You’re going to go through one of the many joys life brings you.”

“What’s that?”

“Fatherhood… that, may or may not mix with a lot of uncles and two aunts who decide they want to spend time with the little booger.”

“Would one of those many figures happen to include you, coach?”

“No,” Ted shakes his head.

“Not at all, Beard.”

The door opens and heads turn.

“Hi, I’m just here to-” The nurse takes note of the number of people in the room. “I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask anyone but the father and mother of the child to leave.”

“Is it not believable that a woman could have this many boyfriends?” Jan asks.

“Shut up.” A shoe aimed at his head, hits the wall and lands on the floor with a thud.

The guys decide it’s time for them to leave, which lets you two see the few things the team has gotten, and it makes you tear up, freaking Jamie out.

And he doesn’t want to admit it out loud, but it was really nice of them team to do.

“Should we open some presents?” Ted softly asks, placing one in your lap.

“Didn’t the nurse just kick you out.”

“I’m your dad.”

“We’re your dads,” Beard adds.

You glance over at Jamie.

He shrugs, not completely hating the idea of having these two around. “I would’ve liked to know about my new parents beforehand. What’s next? Roy’s my uncle.”

“No, he’s a granddad more than anything,” Jamie chimes in.

You wipe your cheeks and smile at him before gently pulling the tissue paper out of your way. You pull out a onesie that looks normal, until you unfold it and inspect it. You sniffle as you hold it up for Jamie to see.

He doesn’t realize why you’re crying until he reads what the back of it, “Tartt 9”. He doesn’t feel the tears trickling down his cheeks until you wipe his cheeks.

“Jaim?”

He shakes his head and pulls you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head, over and over again.

Ted smiles behind his phone.

“We should probably give them some time alone.”

“You think?” He asks.

Beard nods.

Ted sighs, “okie dokie.”

They hold their hands up to wave, only to find your face squished against Jamie’s chest, barely able to wave them off.

You and Jamie wind up opening every one of the other gifts, enjoying each other’s company after being apart for so long.

“I think we should name it Jamie.”

“Baby Tartt is not an it, it’s a baby,” you argue.

“And we’re not naming them Jamie.”

“Why not? It’s a good name.”

“I’m not saying it’s a bad name but, we want our little pumpkin to be able to grow into their own, right?”

“We-” He sighs, thinking about it, already knowing you were right. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Was that everything?”

“I don’t know.” He glances over, finding a bag left on the floor, partially hidden so you couldn’t find it unless you were really looking. He grabs it and sets it in your lap. “What do you think it is?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug and move it closer for him to open (feeling you’ve done enough of the unveiling with presents).

He pulls a figure out of the bag. “A bike?” Jamie brows furrows together in confusion until he thinks about it. The light bulb goes off in his head, everything clicking together, and he smiles.

“Is there a card?”

“I hope so.”

Now you’re confused.

He pulls out what looks like a plain index card. “Free one learn how to ride a bike pass.” He chuckles.

“I’m lost.”

“Remember how I told you I had something funny I wanted to tell you a couple months ago, but I couldn’t because the shithead was making me train, even though Ted gave us the night off.” He huffs and sits back in the chair.

“Okay, I don’t need the background information, just give me the synopsis.”

“Right,” he straightens his back. “I taught Roy how to ride a bike in memory of his granddad.”

“You did?”

“Yeah,” he nods with a smile.

“And he let you?”

“Not without trying to hurt me but I did it.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“Yea- really?”

“Of course, I’m proud of you. You taught the world’s grumpiest man how to ride a bike and lived to tell the tale.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Of course, I’m right.”

“I hope the baby doesn’t get your cockiness.”

“My cockiness? What about yours?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.”

“You lie.”

He fake gasps and slaps his hand on his chest. “I take offense to that.”

“I’m not sorry.”

“You should be. We don’t want this one’s first word to be a lie.”

“It wouldn’t, don’t be mean,” you whine.

“I’m not. I’m just being me.”

“Yeah, and that’s mean.”

He smiles and shakes his head.

You start folding a few of the blankets the guys got, feeling the need to do something. “Hey, look. They got one with sharks.”

“We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

“Girls can like boy things too.”

“Do you really want to be asked if we have a boy or a girl every day.”

“Don’t be mean.” You smile, holding it close to your chest. “I like it. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo. Baby Tart, do do doo doo.”

He groans, “please stop.”

“Never.”

You stiffle a yawn.

“Come on,” he takes away the few things on your lap and blanket from your hands. “You need to rest.”

“But I don’t want to.”

He smiles at the whining tone in your voice. “I know but it’ll do the two of you well.”

“Fine,” you tell him with a pout. “But sit by me. I… I’ve missed you.”

“How can I say no to my girlfriend?” Jamie settles beside you and lets you lay against his chest.

As you sleep and he’s bored, searching through the hospital’s shitty channels, he stumbles upon something interesting, an old childhood show he used to watch.

You open your eyes to hear the song you briefly sang earlier.

“Doo doo. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo.”

“Jam-Jam?”

“Hey,” he clears his throat. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. What were you doing?”

He shrugs.

You smile and snuggle back into him. “I won’t tell anyone.”

#ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso imagines #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt imagines #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x fem reader #jamie tartt x fem!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #jamie tartt x you #crazyk-imagine

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ladybirdswritings · 6 months

Text

Silken Webs & Pirouettes - Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary - The reader and Miguel finally meet… Ballerina!Reader & CEO!Miguel. Alternate Universe with most of the characters included as seen in "Across the Spiderverse." Many cameos ahead. Miguel is a successful business owner but personality is canon. This is a steamy reader insert, Miguel x You! Enjoy and pls leave me lots of love and comments as it keeps me motivated <333

next chapter

three

I hate this. Oh I despise it. This feeling, this day, this music and this fucking limp legged Christmas tree that taunts me from my window.

So many employees and all of them are proving themselves to be nothing more than incapable. All For morale.

For fucking blue elephant.

Truth be told, I could give less of a shit what the Daily Bugle says about me or my company. I could, but not Jessica Drew. Not my right hand. That’s why there is that stupid music, that pathetic tree and that is exactly why I have been forced to stuff red, silk handkerchiefs in my pocket.

All my girls respect me, but Jessica? They worship her. She’s the epitome of the perfect boss to weak minded people.

And fucking Jessica wants to sit in a circle and trade presents with our employees. Just the thought makes my fingers curl, hand balled into an intolerant first.

Presents. It makes me think of lilac, of Lacy.

Lacy is a smart girl, one of my smartest actually. And instead of being buried deep inside of her, using my dick to try and find the spark that once captivated me within her, I, the CEO of my own fucking company have to entertain the persistent brat downstairs.

No puedo más, no puedo más. No. Puedo. Más.

I huff out an annoyed breath and stand, a minute longer where I brood in my seat and I’ll leave the hire to interview herself. I busy myself with gazing out of my floor to ceiling glass. New York greets me like a betrayed brother, icy and bitter. All of the city is strung with icicle lights and nauseating colors for the holiday. So loud and happy, so infuriating.

My reflection mirrors me, cold and in charge— as it should always be. Yet today, today doesn’t feel like it. Today, I have to cater to stupid Cindy Moon and the fact that she’s incapable of being wrong. No Lacy, no sleep.

I never do, anyways.

Time passes slow as I wait, as I gaze out into my city from my castle. Jessica calls my leather seat a throne, and it couldn’t be more fitting.

An agonizing gathering of fleeting moments before I hear Cindy Moon’s heels clicking to the rhythm of whatever the fuck is playing on that radio. There are more footsteps beside her, but those are much less graceful.

Must be the girl.

Great.

I wait for the knob to turn, I wait to be over with this. I have no intentions of taking her on, none at all. I’ll let her down cordially for sake of morale and I’ll find Lacy and get to the bottom of why I don’t feel her anymore.

Not in the way you feel passion when you fuck, no. The excitement, the reminder with each stroke that you’re alive. You don’t have to search for it anymore… but it always fades, and onto the next muñequita that makes my dick stand.

But fucking Lacy. So pretty in her Lilac with those big blue eyes. I thought she’d last longer. She’s too sweet to get rid of so early.

My clock is taunting me, my patience running thinner as I turn and narrow my eyes at the halted shadows under the oak door. Slowing my breathing, I listen. Are they whispering?

Cindy Moon, warning the new hire about me.

I shake my head and take a moment to adjust my silken pocket. Alright, I’ll play generous for the holiday season and walk slower to my oak door. I’ll give them a chance to come inside, to respect me.

One step closer, and closer, two more strides and I’ve reached it. And they? They’re still playing school girl on the other side.

I tug the door open with brute force, prepared to spit a sarcastic insult at little Cindy Moon who has gotten very close to being fired far too many times today.

I don’t get the chance.

A mess of ivory cloth and pink ribbons falls against me, so light and soft I believe her to be a feather for a moment. She gasps, french tipped manicure gripping at my navy suit desperately.

My eyes slim even further, jaw tense and tight. Cindy’s eyes are the opposite. They go wide as saucers, eyebrows pointed and high as she catches a glimpse of the place where my jaw twitches.

I’m annoyed.

The stupid little thing scurries away with only a, “Sir!” and a nod. Lucky girl. Evading her final day with me.

I take a moment to close my eyes and imagine that instead of being here, with an idiot on my chest, I closed my laptop and grabbed my bag. I walked downstairs and met Lacy in the cab, I took her home to my apartment and got her nice and warm by the fireplace. I wrapped her strawberry blonde hair in my fist and started fucking her hard enough so that she couldn’t walk for a week, fucking her so hard I managed to forget how far away the spark feels. So hard that I began to feel excited again, alive.

That’s not how this evening played out, though.

My eyes force themselves open and wander down to the mess of frizzy tresses splayed against my suit. The potential new hire is clumsy, and her face is pressed up against my chest. Thankfully, she rushes to steady herself as quickly as she can.

Dios mío…

Her hair stands tall as if it’s laced with lightning bolts, evidence of the friction my suit caused. Her face is flushed as a reminder of her embarrassment and her skirt is wrinkly and frayed.

My eyes wander down further.

Her shoes are too tight for her feet, her tights are too tight for her curves, and she’s wearing… teddy bear socks?

I’d laugh if I wasn’t at my last straw with the idiots around me. Who told her that wearing this to see me would be a good idea?

Must have been my cruel girls on floor one. That’s why I keep them there, because they’re cruel. Because they’ll send anybody away that’s a waste of my time.

Maybe they’ve fallen sick with this disgusting holiday spirit, maybe it was the morale or maybe they wanted to get a good laugh out of watching the girl with ribbons in her hair and teddy bear socks sob her way out of my building.

The stupid thing, she fails miserably at trying to brush down the electricity in her hair and smooth the wrinkles in her skirt. Her manicured hand shoots out to meet me. I only stare at it.

“Good evening, sir.”

I just look on at her, she shrinks. I don’t have time for this today, and I’m grateful knowing that she’s already made a bad impression. This will be quick.

“Follow me.”

She does, stumbling behind me like a deer with a broken leg. I collapse into my throne and place my glasses to rest on the bridge of my nose. My hands make quick work of finding her paper.

I nearly lose my composure when I do.

¿Cómo es posible?

This girl, this very stupid girl that has been waltzed into my office by Cindy fucking Moon has no chance here.

She has no references, no former places of employment, her bank account is pathetic and the only properties she owns are a shitty little apartment in the city and her pink ribbons, wrinkly skirt and teddy bear socks, apparently.

It’s a wonder, how she managed to convince her way into here. Most of my employees are women, how I enjoy it, so I know she didn’t put that mouth to use. It’s a true mystery then.

A mystery.

I’m curious.

I glance up at her under my brows and am unsurprised to see her standing straight as a pin, awkwardly.

“Sit.” I command. She does.

Good girl.

She collapses into the Italian leather uncomfortably, it practically swallows her. She looks small, underfed. Dark circles hide behind whatever mierda she put on top of them to keep them away. She’s tired. She’s a mess.

A mysterious mess and as I look more at her and her teddy bear socks, I want to know why.

“What’re you doing here?”

My voice makes her jump, that excites me. Reminds me I’m alive, and my words hold power in my building. I like it. Excitement… just what I’ve been needing.

Maybe I can entertain her, just for a little.

“I- um…”

Oh. Her voice is soft, but low. She stuttered, but her words don’t shake. It’s unexpected. She keeps surprising me.

“I’m here for the seasonal position? Morale?”

Fucking morale.

Stupid girl… just when I was starting to like you.

“Are you asking me or telling?”

She blinks at me, and if it weren’t for how observant I am and how well I’ve become at reading people, mostly women, I’d take her as a bland little damsel with no brain in her pretty head.

But I see past it.

She’s digging her nails into my Italian leather. She doesn’t like the way I’m speaking to her.

Good, I like that.

It’s fun.

“I’m telling you, sir.”

Ahí está. Un fuego.

Her voice is sharp and curt, she’s tense. She’s… annoyed with me.

It’s obvious to me that she’s had no experience at all in a professional setting at any point in her life.

I push my glasses up with my thumb and clasp my hands together, leaning back in my seat. Eyes staring into hers, watching… observing. The silence makes her squirm, she’s uncomfortable.

I keep it going.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me questions?” She whispers.

My gaze wanders again, past the ribbons and wrinkly skirt. Past the tight tights and manicured fingers. Right down to those teddy bear socks.

“What’re you wearing?”

“That’s not a relevant question.” She snaps back immediately.

I shift in my seat, more excitement. More liveliness. More surprises.

“It’s a question.” It’s a statement, but it sounds like a command. She answers me.

“They’re for luck.”

Hmm.

I’ll give her a break, for now. With a sigh I grab her paper again and glaze over it quickly.

“You’ve got not a single reference, no former places of employment and no credibility. Answer my first question again, what’re you doing here?”

She’s gone silent again, picking at the white polish adorning her fingernails. I allow her a quick moment, the lucky thing speaks before I do.

“I know how this all looks. If I were you I’d turn me away too…”

“I might.” I interrupt as she takes a breath.

Her nose twitches. Does it always do that when she’s annoyed?

“I know. But give me a chance to answer your question, like you asked me to.”

Maybe she’s not so stupid. I wave my hand as a gesture for her to continue, and with a sharp breath, she does.

“I won’t bullshit you and pretend that me walking out that door wouldn’t be bad for me, because it would. I need this, and I don’t expect that to change your mind either… but it’s the truth. I do need this, and it makes me perfect for the job because I’m gonna do everything in my power to keep it. To perform the best I can. Besides, if it’s a grave mistake on your end sir then, I’m only here for one season. Then you are free of me. I know I may not look it, but I’m determined. I’m obedient and I am capable and I know I can do this better than any other blonde broad that’s set to sit in this chair after me. Trust me.”

She’s desperate, but she didn’t have to give me that speech for me to catch onto that. No, she’s a pretty girl. I can tell from her nails and her ribbons. Office work doesn’t seem like her first choice. It makes me wonder, what has she been doing all this time?

What made her come here?

Her gaze falls onto her teddy bear socks and she must take my silence as an answer, she uses her tight shoes to scrunch them up at her ankles. She’s disappointed in them.

Pretty girl for pretty work.

Maybe she’ll last. Quizás me he vuelto loco.

Carajo.

“You’re hired.”

🏷️’s: @laysmt | chap 3 song 🎧:

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sanjisblackasswife · 2 years

Text

(FLUFF/NSFW) Let’s Talk About: Gojo Having a Black Girlfriend/Wife

Fluff

This mf loves black women

Look at him

Ultimate light skin

We all know Gege said he wouldn’t be good in a relationship.

However it’s not because he’s a cheater

Why do people aim him to be a red flag do y’all even know anything about this man’s true character

But to circumstance .

But let’s say he can have a partner.

You are the first and only candidate for this man and if you turn him down he may hit on Geto

I HC Gojo as straight but I still enjoy making jokes about him and Geto being a couple

A lot of women threw themselves at Gojo but you didn’t .

Not to say you were not like other girls oh no

You wanted to sit on his cock too, but you had a standard of yourself

Tbh Gojo as a boyfriend would be like having a little brother.

He annoys

Your entire well being.

Takes your wigs (if you wear em) and plays Megan thee Stallion in the bathroom

Bro is the type to use that audio “I was out nigga’d and I will never be out nigga’d again” when he records himself braiding your hair

He braids amazingly btw

Speaking of TikTok yes he is TT Famous and y’all have an account together

Bro does damn near every couple trend just to show you off.

I’d also like to add Gojo didn’t start off showing you off you actually hid y’all relationship from anybody for about a year

He told you off rip he didn’t want many people to know about you just yet becasue he knew you’d probably be a target. If you didn’t agree to that then it’s curtains for your relationship

But since you were so understanding Gojo actually cherished that.

Hiding the relationship wasn’t that hard. He was a busy man and you were a busy woman so if anybody saw y’all together it was pretty rare.

Lowkey killed him though after a few months because he really wanted to do some PDA.

LOVES PDA

Love love LOVE

Lingering touches, butt slaps, kisses, whatever he loves it.

If you’re not into it he’ll try some self restraint but don’t get mad if he loses his mind when y’all get home

Would love to have kids with you!

“I’d call them my 2 piece and a biscuit.”

“The hell is wrong with you.”

“Little mocha babies…”

“CAN YOU—-“

Loves calling you mama(s) or mommy

If you like it it’s fine but if you don’t it’s worse because then he’ll keep going

Despite his confidence he can be very insecure sometimes

You didn’t even know this man could have such a low view of himself but that was about 2 years into the relationship he finally revealed the real him

Yes two years and that’s if y’all already been friends years prior to going out

He doesn’t open up easy but he learns to trust you

Some days he comes back to exhausted and mentally drained but he keeps a fake smile for you.

But you Seen right through his BS.

You don’t try and push any issues too far but you show with action you’re there. Some days you just grab him and place him on top of you on the couch, take off his blindfold and rub his back and hair

He’s gotten real emotional a few times when you did it, mostly because you’ve done it on days he just needed a hug.

You’re his literal teddy bear because of this.

He’s 6’7” so he towers over you when he slings his body on top of yours. He also throws you around a lot

“PUT ME DOWN MF—AH!”

He’ll pull your shorts down and give you brown booty a nice slap before rubbing it a little

“Shut up we’re taking a nap.”

Gojo really loves how you cook btw

Moreso what you bake

Mans has a sweet tooth out of this world so if you are a baker you’re now his personal chef.

Also don’t think the love you have for him is one sided he definitely shows his love for you too. He may be an ass sometimes but he’s an amazing listener.

His advice is usually what’s helps you best. Granted it’s not always what you wanna hear but Gojo is an exceptional listener and observer so if you ever feel bad it doesn’t go unnoticed by him

Can I also add y’all have so many inside jokes omg

The amount of references y’all can do in a conversation is so amazingly scary

Also once a month or so Gojo looks for a new show for you both to binge, and discuss about

Y’all are currently watching Hunter x Hunter together

“Killua would be an excellent student of mine.”

“He’d hate you.”

Dating him is like dating your best friend.

Gojo really likes to just have dates at home, you both cook together, play some video games , and just joke around

Not to say he won’t take you out he most definitely will though.

“I got you this dress be ready by 9…and don’t wear panties.”

“HELLO—“

Nsfw

Gojo is a pervert…he really is.

You didn’t know how bad it was when he was once really drunk and showed you his photo gallery to show you some memes he saved but accidentally showed the album of lewd photos of you on there.

“Oh! Ooooh! Oh this wasn’t the video…haha.”

A whole video of him recording you getting pounded from the back

“SATO—?!”

“Sorry…you look hot though lookit!”

Panty sniffer

Panty stealer

Takes the panties you wear when you’re on your period to replace them with thongs

“My pad wont fit—“

“It’s okay just wear a towel.”

You hate him sm

He casually makes remarks about sex

Like just randomly on a Thursday morning during breakfast

“Baby tonight when you suck my dick can you also sit on my face? I promise you’re not heavy.”

Like mf we are eating French Toast watching Sponegbob what’s wrong with you.

Speaking of being heavy he likes to pick you up and fuck you on the wall

ALOT

He is most definitely the “Gentle lover but fucks you like a beast” trope

Wont admit it but loves eating your ass

He does very long licks when eating you from the back just to lick you ALLLLL THE WAY.

He has asked if you wanted to get your pussy pierced too.

He seen it in a porno and thought it’d look so hot on you.

“But—“

“No.”

Still asks like once a week

Gojo is a Butt man.

That’s why he loves doggy style with you.

The way your pretty melanin is so shiny and wet jiggling off of Gojo’s pelvis makes him so turned on he sometimes can’t last too long

“Fuck baby I’m cuming!” He whines as he slams behind you harder gripping at your thick hair.

His hand is never not on your butt

Ok one more thing on him being a pervert

He really likes taking pictures of you

Like ALOT

Sometimes you’ll know and other you won’t

Which are his favorite.

He has a few videos of you touching yourself without your knowledge and because of this he has 2 phones, one for when he’s out and that other phone hidden where nobody can steal it.

Really wants to make a sex tape with you

Like so bad

He doesn’t even use porn anymore to jack off he’d rather look at a video of you moaning his name

He’ll never admit it but he wants to be dominated by you so bad skshdhdiek

Why do you think he’s so teasing?

Your attitude is the most attractive thing about you and seeing you possibly snap at him one day and have him crying for more is something he hopes for you to do.

Also wanna know what he gave you for your birthday?

A dildo that was molded into the same shape of his dick

“Here! So then when I’m away you can help yourself!…still not as good as the real thing though eh eh.”

This mf is a menace.

#jujutsu gojo #gojo x female reader #gojo x reader #fan fic writing #gojo x poc reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #gojo fluff #gojo saturo

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tonicandjins · 1 year

Text

eyes tell

characters: haechan/female reader genre: fluff, confession word count: 3.9k summary: donghyuck has been trying to confess his feelings to you. third time's the charm, he thinks.

Note: nothing but donghyuck brainrot for valentine's ^_^

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

DONGHYUCK KNOWS HOW MUCH YOU LOVE THE HOLIDAYS—the fairy lights surrounding every place in Gangnam, the Christmas songs playing in every corner of SM Entertainment (courtesy of every EXO Christmas album ever), the sound of kids singing Christmas carols—and he thinks it’s the best time to confess.

It’s a foolproof plan: all he had to do is take you somewhere under a mistletoe, look up and pretend he didn’t know there was one, show it to you, and VIOLA! A kiss under a mistletoe!

However, three hours into the small party the crew members threw for both NCT Dream members and the crew themselves, Donghyuck realizes it’s better said than done. He couldn’t, for the life of him, keep you in his space alone for more than two minutes. People are always pulling you from him—either to ask you to get something for someone or hand you a small Christmas present—and you are always too nice (too kind, oh, be still Lee Donghyuck’s beating heart) to say no.

Sulking, Donghyuck decides to settle on the couch, sitting between Jeno and Jaemin who are arguing about a stupid game they were playing earlier in the night. Donghyuck knows he’s pouting, and he’s pouting really hard hoping you would glance his way and kiss the pout out of his lips. Perhaps if he whines along that cute pout of his, you would hear and come running towards him and call him cute. But none of those happen because, of course, Mark Lee and Park Jisung are hogging you for themselves.

Donghyuck even wore a hoodie with your favorite color so he could catch your eyes tonight, yet here he is: stuck between Jeno and Jaemin who wouldn’t stop debating over everything and nothing at once.

It’s Renjun, bless his heart, who notices Donghyuck sulking while he watches you laugh with Jisung and Mark. Chuckling at Donghyuck’s distress, Renjun pulls him by the hand towards the small table where the sweets are.

“Let me guess,” Renjun starts as he offers a chocolate-covered strawberry to Donghyuck. Donghyuck pries his mouth open to take a bite, eyes still on you. “You’re sulking because she’s not giving you attention.”

“I wore something cute for her,” Donghyuck says while chewing. “But she won’t give me a second of her damn day.”

“It’s because you’re not trying enough,” Renjun answers. “What does she like most about you?”

“Does she even like me?” Donghyuck contemplates.

Renjun laughs, “Of course, she does!”

“Don’t,” Donghyuck whines. “Don’t keep my hopes up. It’ll break my heart.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Renjun assures. “Come on. Think about it. What does she like most about you?”

Donghyuck thinks as far as his memories allow him. You’ve told him a million times how much you like him—love him, even—and Donghyuck could only hope to become as vocal as you are when it comes to how you feel towards people.

One time, you told him about how easily he could make people gravitate towards him and how much you like his innate talent in grabbing people’s attention (which apparently doesn’t include you because here you are now, giving him 0 attention). Another time, you admitted loving how much he adores and cares for his family—specifically for his younger siblings—and you wish you had someone like him in your family (Donghyuck doesn’t want you to think of him like family, like a brother, damn it. He wants to kiss you on the lips).

Just as Renjun was about to say something, Chenle grabs everyone’s attention by testing the mic from the karaoke the crew had prepared for everyone.

“You know I love you, right?” Donghyuck remembers you asking in a drunken haze that one night you and him drank your guts out two days after his 22nd birthday. Donghyuck remembers nodding, but not truly realizing you had meant it. “I think I love you more and more whenever you sing. Sing for me please.”

Donghyuck remembers singing softly to your ears that night, and he realizes that’s what you probably like most about him.

Hence, he takes the mic from Chenle and enters the code to the first song that comes to his mind. As soon as he starts singing, he notices your attention back to his eyes. Donghyuck smiles in triumph, winking at you as he sings his heart out.

“Express your love four times a day, laugh eight times, kiss me six times,” Donghyuck sings his heart out. “It’s the only password to my heart, No one else can know it, only you can have me, you are my secret, girl, girl, girl, girl, girl, girl, girl!”

When it’s done, Donghyuck finally, finally sees you approaching him. Chenle takes the mic back from him and Donghyuck doesn’t even mind.

“Hello, Ms. Everyone’s Friend, you’ve finally noticed me,” Donghyuck jokes.

“Hey, as soon as you came here I hugged you,” you protest. “Not my fault all your friends like me. Hey, do you have a second?” you ask like Donghyuck wouldn’t give up anything for you.

He nods (a little too quick, a little too obvious), and lets you pull him by the sleeve of his hoodie, taking him to a small storage room, far from the noise and small crowd. Donghyuck isn’t aware of your proximity until you whisper a small hi.

“Hi,” Donghyuck says back, smiling as he look down on you, eyes locked in yours. “What are we doing here?” he whispers.

“I wanted to give you my gifts,” you whisper back. “I didn’t get the others a gift and I really don’t want them to feel upset that I only got something for you.”

“Y/N, my dear, what makes you think I’m not going to brag whatever you have for me on a daily basis?” he asks, chuckling as he watches you take a small box from your pocket of your hoodie.

“I figured you probably already have everything and this is something you can most likely afford to buy ten times, but…” you trail off. Even under the small light bulb, Donghyuck could see the blush on your cheeks.

He takes the small box from your hand, and it’s a box from a luxury brand, Donghyuck suddenly realizes he didn’t get anything for you for Christmas. He opens the present, and it’s that famous Thomas Trench bear bag charm from Burberry.

“He reminded me of you,” you mutter shyly. “You can put it on your hand carry bag whenever you travel. I mean, you’re going on tour with NCT 127, and like I said, it’s nothing big, like I said, you could probably buy this ten times, like I sai—”

“Y/N.” Donghyuck is going to kiss you now. He wraps an arm around your waist, caressing your back as he pulls you close.

“Donghyuck,” you whisper. You look up. Donghyuck does, too, and who would have known? A mistletoe right above the both of you.

Just when Donghyuck is about to lean in, of course—of fucking course, Park Jisung.

“Y/N noona, Renjun is about to sing your favorite song, aren’t—am I interrupting?”

You jump back from Donghyuck’s arm, looking at Jisung, then at Donghyuck, then back to Jisung, who’s still holding the door open.

“No, no,” you stutter a few seconds later. “I’m coming.”

You don’t look back at Donghyuck and follow Jisung.

Park Jisung is so going to get beaten up.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

His second attempt came out of nowhere, unlike the first time he decided he’d confess and finally ask you out.

Donghyuck is in the hospital, and he feels like it’s the shittiest day of his life because it most likely is. They were in the middle of a schedule promoting Candy, and just when the music show was over, Donghyuck’s body failed him. His chest started hammering like crazy, and he had always thought this was normal because it happens to him all the time, until it started to hurt and his body started shaking unceasingly. The medics were quick to get to him as soon as Mark shouted for help. Donghyuck doesn’t really recall much of what happened; all he knows is that his body just collapsed and Jeno and Jaemin helped carry him so he could be transferred to a stretcher and that Renjun was on his phone already calling his Mom, probably because he knows Donghyuck would want them to call his Mom.

When Donghyuck wakes, hazy from the oxygen and the dosages of medicine they’d put through his dextrose, feeling adhesive patches stuck on his chest, he sees you sitting beside him. You’re on your phone, and you quickly bid goodbye to whoever you were speaking with as soon as you see him open his eyes.

“Donghyuck, baby, how are you feeling?” you ask, holding his hand. Donghyuck’s throat is dry so all he could muster up is a nod. “Your Mom and sister went out for a minute to get something to eat. I’ll call the doctor real quick.”

Before you could stand, Donghyuck reaches out to weakly grab your wrist, keeping you still on your seat.

“What is it, my love?” you ask. The influx of nicknames is making his heart hammer against his chest, and it’s proven when the cardiac event recorder starts beeping like crazy behind him. “Donghyuck, calm down. They’re trying to stabilize your heartbeat. I’ll call the doctor.”

“I love you,” Donghyuck barely whispers.

“Oh, baby,” you softly coo. “I love you, too. Now please let me get someone to check on you.”

Donghyuck can’t remember much after that. He could hear his Mom nagging in his ear, something about pacing and how he should really calm down. His sister was just whining in the background, saying that the expensive shit he buys for them aren’t worth it if it means they find him in the hospital multiple times a year. He reckons it’s the dosages of medicine that makes him hazy, but everything else are all blurred and toned down. While he lies on bed, high on oxygen, all he could see clearly is you—the worried look on your face and just the way your eyes are glued to him—and all he could think of is maybe love isn’t all about a big, grand confession one makes an effort to prepare for.

Perhaps love can be as quiet as the way he said I love you, hand weakly holding your wrist, voice barely audible. Perhaps love can be as simple as being there on days as quiet as this.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

The third time Donghyuck musters up the courage to tell you about his feelings is about two months later, when NCT Dream just won the grand prize for a prestigious awards show.

He finds you in the crowd as they perform, and you’ve always been the kind to easily blend in the crowd, wearing your usual crew fit, a lanyard with your ID labeled as NCT Dream’s staff allowing you all access to wherever he is, but Donghyuck’s made it a habit to make sure you know that you stand out whichever crowd you try to blend in. Tonight, Donghyuck winks exactly at your direction when he sings the words to their hit songs, and he does it multiple times, making sure you’re as affected as he is whenever your presence is within a mile radius.

They’re on their way back to the dormitories. Tonight, Donghyuck is staying at NCT Dream’s dorm and will most likely share a bed with Jisung. He had a schedule the next day for 127’s fansign, but he doesn’t have much energy left and would rather share a bed than go back to the other dorm.

You sit on the back of the van with him, and by default your hand intertwines with his as soon as the lights and cameras are out. Donghyuck is so, so, so tired and happy, but he keeps himself cool and calm because he doesn’t need a part two of the hospital scene during the promotions for Candy. But Lord Jesus, what can he do when your first instinct as soon as you and him are out of people’s sight is to hold his hand? You know how much he loves holding hands. You might as well kiss him now if you’re planning his doom.

The other members are quiet. Donghyuck could hear Renjun snoring already.

Gently, you massage the back of Donghyuck’s hand, and seconds later, he could feel your lips softly kissing his fingers, humming the tune to one of the songs playing at the venue before the team left. Donghyuck smiles, content with the way his heart flutters at your actions.

“Y/N,” Dream’s manager asks while he takes a turn, his hands tightly holding the steering wheel. “Shall I drop you off at your building?”

“Yes, please,” you answer. “You know where it is, right?”

The manager hums and makes eye contact with Donghyuck through the rearview mirror. “Donghyuck.”

“Hm?”

“If you want to stay over at Y/N’s, you can. I’ll have someone pick you up at six in the morning tomorrow.”

“Really?” Donghyuck gasps, a little too loudly because Renjun groans as soon as he does. “Sorry. Will you really let me stay over?”

“Unless Y/N says no, then it should be fine. You deserve it,” the manager answers. Donghyuck turns to you, eyes pleading, as if you’d say no.

“As if I’d say no,” you parrot whatever he had in mind.

Donghyuck happily (but quietly) cheers.

“No funny business, Haechan,” the manager reminds as soon as the car stops in front of the building you live in. “Be ready at six in the morning.”

“I love you, hyung,” Donghyuck pouts, sending the manager a flying kiss, before opening the door and jumping, offering his hand to help you. “Thank you. I won’t stay up and I will wake up early.”

The other members mumble a quiet, tired bye-bye, and it seems like only Donghyuck has enough energy left to even tell each member he loves them. Their manager allows you and him to enter the building first before Donghyuck hears them drive away.

It doesn’t hit Donghyuck that it’s his first time staying over for a night until he hears you lock the door and he gets a full view of your place. His confidence runs low when you start removing your coat and shoes, realizing that holy shit, this is real. He’s really staying the night at the love of his life’s safe place. Will you let him sleep on the same bed? Probably not, what is he even thinking? Of course, he’s sleeping on the floor, and you’re taking the bed. Why does he thi—

“Donghyuck, stop thinking and get rid of your shoes,” you interrupt his thoughts as your enter the small living room area, switching some lights on one by one. “Go take a shower.”

Donghyuck nods, following you while he carries his backpack of necessities. You lead him to the bathroom and tell him you’ll prepare the bed.

When Donghyuck is left alone, he decides that this would be the best time to confess to you, the only time he really can because you’re all alone and there’s no Park Jisung to interrupt your bubble. He starts the shower and composes his thoughts, thinking about the most beautiful words he could string so he could put the message across.

When he’s done, his mind is all fogged up just like the mirror in your bathroom. He hears you knock, asking if he’s done yet because you would also need to shower. He puts his clothes on, a shirt and some sweatpants, drying his hair with the spare towel you prepared for him, and opens the door to find you smiling softly as you wait for him. He steps out and allows you in, finding his feet padding on your warm floor.

“Please make yourself comfortable,” you say before locking the bathroom door. Donghyuck hums.

The door of your bedroom is already open when he reaches it. Donghyuck is suddenly so conscious of his presence inside your safe place, inside the privacy of your home. He’s never been here, and didn’t think this day would come so soon. He doesn’t know where to sit, if he’s even allowed to sit on your bed, and is not sure whether this is okay suddenly.

Your room is almost the same size as the one he shares with Johnny in the dorm. He finds your computer setup in the corner of the room, a small shelf of your favorite books displayed right beside it. He sees a vinyl turntable on top of the small shelf, and he makes a mental note to buy you a record the next time he visit a record store.

Donghyuck honestly doesn’t know what to do, so he settles himself on the swivel chair and takes his phone as he waits for you.

The sound of the shower running stops and the sound of what seems like a hairdryer echoes from the bathroom; it doesn’t take that long until you’re entering your bed room, hair still a little damp from the shower.

“What are you doing? I told you to make yourself comfortable,” you mutter as you enter, brushing your hair, yawning a little. Donghyuck looks up from the TikTok video he’s watching.

“I—I didn’t know if we’re staying on the same bed or, or, like…”

You giggle, walking towards him. “Oh, Donghyuck, you’re crazy if you think I’m letting you sleep on the floor.”

“So, like, we’re—we’re like sharing? The bed? Together, I mean.”

A look of surprise, more like confusion, flashes on your face. “Oh, is it not okay? If not, then we—I can, the living room, well, there’s a couch, and perhaps—?”

A second of silence.

Donghyuck starts laughing, and you do, too.

“We’re awful at this,” he comments, you agree and offer your hand. “How do you want this, my lady?”

“The bed has enough room for you and me,” you answer. “Come on, Donghyuck-ah. Let’s sleep.”

Donghyuck pulls you close, and you hold onto him like magnets connecting. Kissing the top of your head, he hums in content as you hug him tighter, your face nuzzled comfortably on his chest. You kiss his cloth-covered chest and make a comment about him buffing up especially on his chest area.

“Taeyong-hyung forces me to go to the gym. I’m glad you noticed,” Donghyuck jokes as you pull him towards the bed after switching the main light off, leaving the small light from your side table on. Donghyuck takes the right side and, as if you’ve been doing this for a long time, allows you to comfortably rest your head on his chest.

“Congratulations again,” you mumble sleepily. “You were so handsome on stage. I was about to fall on my knees.”

“Thank you, I made an effort to keep your attention on me. The entire venue was screaming for Jaemin. I need at least one person to keep their eyes on me,” he jokes.

“The world is your stage, Donghyuck,” you reply, voice softer. “You have everyone’s attention.”

“Some days, I only want yours.” This is it. This is when Donghyuck confesses and tells you about his undying love and how much he wants a future with you.

“You have mine every day,” you mutter, voice barely audible.

Hold on, God, are you really falling asleep before he could confess?

“I lo—Y/N, I’m having a moment. Please let me have this moment. Can you stay awake?”

“No,” you mumble. “Night.” Barely there.

“Wow,” Donghyuck sighs in disbelief. “You’re really sleeping when I’m about to give you my entire heart.”

Donghyuck hears you hum. Fuck it.

“I really,” he starts. “Really, really, really, really, really, really.”

He inhales, waiting. No response.

“I really, really, really love you.” There. No reaction.

“I have loved you for a long time,” he continues anyway. “I think the first time I realized it was when you were bringing food for us, and prior to that all members were talking about how much they’re craving for pizza. But when you arrived with the food delivery, you—” He chuckles at the memory. “You were holding a separate box for me. With fried chicken. For me. Because you know I don’t give a shit about pizza.”

He turns a little to kiss your hair.

“And it wasn’t even a eureka! moment,” he continues. “It wasn’t even a punch in the gut. It wasn’t loud, like my heart hammering against my chest, screaming for your name. It was—it was quiet. Like a tap on my wrist, telling me it’s always been there. You’ve always been in my heart. And you didn’t come in screaming, pulsating, crying. You walked in my heart, slowly and surely, like—like, the sun rising. It doesn’t abruptly rise from the horizon and blind everyone before they get the chance to wake up to start their day. The sun rises slowly, seeping through your curtains, gently waking you, kissing your skin like it’s the most precious thing ever. You’re like that for me. You’re the sun rising quietly into the horizon for me.”

“And I just—” Donghyuck sighs. “I wish I could say it better. I love you. I have loved you for a long time. I don’t think I’ll ever stop, so please let me say this. Let me tell you I love you.”

Donghyuck is left with silence for a few moments. And he wonders if he said it right. Honestly, he doesn’t even remember the words he said. He probably just spluttered nonsense. Main point is he loves you, and damn does he wish you were awake to hear all of it. He feels you breathe slowly, then—

“I love you, too,” you whisper, sniffling. He thinks you may be crying. “Have for a long time, too. I can’t remember when. I can’t even remember a time since we’ve met that I don’t look at you like you hung the stars for me.”

“Baby,” Donghyuck pouts when he realizes you’re already crying. He moves so that he’s lying on his side as he grabs your face with both hands, thumbs wiping away the tears. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

You giggle.

“Can I kiss you?” Donghyuck asks and you nod too quickly. He wipes the stains of tears from your cheeks and leans closer, closer, closer—

And there. Finally. The most-awaited first kiss.

He presses his lips only softly, a feather-like touch, waits for your reaction, but you keep your eyes closed, and then he’s leaning again, pressing his lips firmly this time.

He kisses you gently—carefully, like a curator carrying a piece of art that’s been around for ages, and you kiss him back like you mean it.

The kiss is over not long after, and Donghyuck brings you back close to his chest, hugging you and telling you to sleep.

You hum. Donghyuck closes his eyes.

The room is covered in silence. Donghyuck feels like he’s dreaming, and slowly, he lets himself fall asleep. The last thing he hears before drifting of is: “for the record, I’ve always known, Donghyuck. I’ve always known, because the things you can’t say, your eyes tell.”

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