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#i’m reading this for class and the whole time i’m just like wait
alexanaraxadel · 3 months
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reading capital by karl marx is just me realizing wait why are we only asking for a “living wage”? why are we asking for just enough money to sustain us and keep us alive so we can go back and do more labor? why aren’t we asking for compensation for the LABOR THAT WE ACTUALLY DO for our employers??? regular ordinary workers make the ceos of every big corporation literal billionaires, so why aren’t they getting paid a wage for the work they’re DOING, the value they’re providing and creating, instead of just a wage to simply “live on”???? who gave capitalists the right to take that surplus i just wanna talk
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bbreaddog · 10 months
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Okay I’m rewatching jatp (as you do) and it just stumps me every time how Julie can just sight read AT TEMPO without making a single mistake after almost an entire YEAR of not playing??????? OR SINGING? Did she even warm up?? There is seemingly NO SIGN of muscle regression, or loss of technique, LIKE. I don’t think anyone could get their vocal folds to thin out into THAT clean of a chest mix after not singing for a year.
JULIE?????????????
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obsessedwithceleste · 3 months
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Til It’s Gone
Theodore Nott x reader
Based on this cute lil request 🤗
Summary: It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone. (Happy ending I swear)
word count: 3.2k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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Theo let out a heavy sigh as he slumped into his seat, ignoring the cheery smile on your face as you turned to face him.
“Hi Theodore!” You chirped brightly, gaze landing on the tall brunette boy coming to sit next to you.
Salazar, here we go, Theo thought bitterly.
“Theo.”
“Right. Theo. How was your day?” You continued on, seemingly oblivious to his indifference as you scribbled mindlessly on your parchment.
Theodore wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite in fact. He knew you liked him. That much you’d made rather obvious. Especially as of late. If saving him a seat everyday in this miserable class didn’t make it clear to everyone that you had a certain affection for the boy, then the notes dropped in his bag, or kisses blown from across the Great Hall certainly did.
The only reason Theo even accepted sitting next to you was because the seat was positioned perfectly to be just outside of Professor Binns’ field of vision, saving him the work of pretending to care about whatever topic the professor was rattling on about.
“I don’t see why you even put up with it all,” Mattheo often said. “Just reject them and move on with it.”
“Or at least stop sitting with them. You’re only encouraging them,” Enzo would add.
Yet, here he was, still sat lazily in the seat next to you. Theo didn’t particularly care that you fancied him to be quite honest. He’d gotten used to the same pattern of stoically ignoring your chatter, copying your carefully organized notes, and leaving. So long as you weren’t too annoying, he didn’t see the harm in sticking around. Besides it’s not like you weren’t easy on the eyes. And he supposed there was something to be said about the confidence with which you acted that set you apart from the general hoard of girls harboring similar feelings.
“Theo?”
Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.
“Fine.” He replied tersely before turning once more to stare blankly ahead.
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He’d changed his mind. Absolutely not. This was horrible. At this point, Theo wasn’t even sure if you actually liked him, or were only claiming you did as an excuse to see how much you could embarrass him.
“Mate, this is getting to be Weaselette levels of weird,” Draco said as their group stared in horror at the third year who had approached them warily in the halls with a poem to read aloud in hand.
Theo visibly shuddered, remembering the awful valentine the youngest Weasley had sent Saint Potter a few years prior.
“Save everyone the embarrassment and walk away now, kid,” Draco told the boy. “Go on. Scram.”
The third year didn’t need to be told twice and quickly darted off, away from the group of Slytherin boys.
“It isn’t even 8am mate. Where does that girl get the time to do all this?” Enzo grumbles as they made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.
Theo simply ignores his friend’s comments, something he was getting used to doing, as they all sat down at their usual table.
They’d all seemed to have an opinion on you as soon as it became apparent that you had developed a crush on him, and Theo had just about had enough of his friend’s seemingly endless comments regarding his not so secret admirer.
The familiar small parcel tied neatly with a white ribbon that sat waiting for Theodore in his usual spot didn’t go unnoticed, starting the whole thing up again.
“For Salazar’s sake Theo, do you not find it creepy?” Draco asks, eyeing the package.
Theo rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend.
“I don’t care. You all seem to be more interested in y/n’s little stunts than I am, and I’m the one they’re intended for. They’re harmless. Just leave it and they’ll probably get bored eventually.”
“Yeah, or they’ll just keep it up thinking you’re playing all hard to get or what not,” Mattheo snorts.
Theo just glares at his friend, stabbing a sausage with his fork. Just behind Matt’s head, seated at a table with your own friends, Theo sees you blow a kiss his way, winking cheekily.
“Aw, they growing on you? Who would’ve thought dark and broody would be into golden girl herself,” Mattheo teases, earning him a sharp kick from under the table.
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“Morning Theodore,” you greet, as the brooding boy once again took his seat beside you, this time in potions.
“It’s Theo.”
“That’s what I said.”
You hear the boy let out a small snort and you smile to yourself. That was one of the biggest reactions you’d been able to get out of the boy.
Your friends often wondered why you so insistently pursued the grumpy Slytherin boy, despite his general apathy towards you, and honestly, it was as simple as the fact that you enjoyed the challenge.
It was like your own little game of cat and mouse. Constantly finding little ways to make the boy smile, even if he didn’t realize it was you. And the rush of excitement you got anytime you were able to elicit any sort of reaction from the boy was like a drug that kept you coming back for more.
You’d found that the best way to elicit such reactions was by staging little acts of public affection whether it be a kiss sent his way or an origami note perched on his desk. Each time, you could see the heat rise softly in the boy’s cheeks as he tried desperately to keep it at bay, sometimes even fighting back a small smile.
Today you had come to class a bit early in order to set up both you and Theo’s potion stations before the brown haired Slytherin arrived, taking extra care to gather enough ingredients for each of your potions. You weren’t even sure he realized that you were doing all this for him, but watching his satisfied smile as he brewed away made it worth it.
That was another thing you had grown to appreciate about the boy. While his friends were all rather light-minded and rowdy, his wit and level-headedness balanced out the group. Theo was smart, and didn't feel the need to make a point about it, flying under the radar of many of your classmates when it came to who had the best marks. Sure it was fun to tease the boy, but you also had a certain admiration for him that went deeper then the nonserious way you often conducted yourself around him.
The rest of the class passed in a sort of agreed upon silence as you worked on your potions. Of course you’d like to talk to Theo a bit, but you’d found he’d preferred the silence, usually not uttering more than a few words to you per class. It was something you could work on eventually you supposed.
“See you later Theodore,” you said brightly once you had finished gathering up your things. Joining your group of friends, you toss one last wave over your shoulder at the boy, smiling to yourself. He hadn’t bothered to correct you for once.
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The last thing Theo expected while roaming the dusty shelves of the library was to hear his own name being whispered from deeper within the maze of books he was searching through. The library was where he went to escape his friend’s incessant gossip about the rest of the school’s population, yet he was interested in what was being said about him. He didn’t often venture outside his usual group of Slytherins, so he didn’t know exactly what he expected to hear.
Following the loud whispers, Theo stopped, looming in the shadows once he was able to make out the dark figures of students huddled in one of the many rows of books.
“Sure Theo might be one of the most attractive boys in our year, but his head is so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he can see straight.” A voice practically snarled as its owner leaned lazily against one of the shelves.
Theo felt himself immediately tense. Is that what they thought now? His fists clenched as he refrained from crashing through the shelves to give these snots a piece of his mind.
“Honestly, being an arrogant prick isn’t something to be proud of. He’s just like every other Slytherin who makes being a pure blood their only personality trait.” Another voice adds.
“Oh fuck off you two.”
Theo’s ears perk up, surprised to hear your voice join the chatter.
“Please, like you’re one to talk y/n. You’re practically blinded by desperation. Theo Nott is an utter prat and he treats you like shit. Have some bloody self respect.”
“I’m not desperate, you git. And Theodore isn’t an arrogant prick. There’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of pride. It’s not like you see him going around bragging about how amazing he is. If you’re going to talk about arrogant pricks, talk about Cormac. Or Draco even.”
“Whatever. That still doesn’t excuse his behavior towards you. I don’t understand why you insist on embarrassing yourself when he clearly has no interest in you. But he’s too much of a coward to say anything.”
“Oh for the love of- Theodore doesn’t owe anyone anything. Me included. I do the things I do because I can and I want to, and quite frankly it isn’t anyone else’s business but my own. So why don’t you two get your heads out of your own arses and stop worrying about me, and stop worrying about Theodore.”
With that, Theo listened as your footsteps slowly got quieter as you stomped away, your words ringing in his head.
Theo had never been in love before. But in that moment, he was beginning to see the appeal. Fuck that was hot as hell.
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For Theo, it all spiraled down from there as he finally began to see you. Really see you. And not just as some girl who had a silly crush on him.
It started with the notes. He hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t just him that you’d slip a note to in the hallway. After one particularly difficult transfiguration exam, Theo watched as you dropped a note with a chocolate candy attached into the bags of your friends.
Another day, he arrived to potions early to find you carefully setting up his station as he hovered in the doorway. After class, he didn’t rush out like he normally would and instead watched as you quietly slipped an extra copy of your notes to a student he knew struggled with the class.
And while you weren’t exactly blowing kisses to all of your friends across the Great Hall, Theo began to notice the way you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around your friends, hugging them tightly when you got excited. Or grasping onto a hand as you wandered through Hogsmeade, arms swinging in carefree bliss.
It was about a month after Theo had begun his silent observations that he began to feel it. The slow pull away as your presence began to fade from his life. He almost didn’t notice at first. It had been about a week since he’d last found a note in his bag, or parcel waiting for him on his seat. You still smiled brightly at him if your eyes met from across the Great Hall, but now that he thought about it, Theo couldn’t remember the last time you’d blown a kiss his way.
It all came to a head the day Theo walked into History of Magic to see one of your friends sitting next to you in his usual seat, chattering away.
“Nice mate, they finally get the message?” Mattheo asks with a grin, elbowing him in the ribs.
Theo remained silent as he followed his friend to a seat in the back, eyes not leaving the spot where he should be sitting.
It continued on like this for what Theo thought was eternity. Salazar he missed you. Weeks passed filled with sleepless nights where he would stare at the ceiling contemplating where he had gone wrong. At the very beginning really, he thought dryly, remembering his initial feelings of agitation and annoyance. He wished he could go back and give himself a good smack upside the head.
The day Theo passed you in the hall and you didn’t even spare him a passing glance was the day Theo finally broke.
“Lorenzo.” He said, slamming the door of their dormitory open, startling his roommate.
“Theodore?”
Theo glares at the use of the name.
“You’re the romantic type. How do I do it?” Theo asked as he stomped his way over to his bed.
With a bemused look, Enzo swings around to look at his roommate, wondering if one of the ghosts had somehow possessed him.
“You want to know. How to do romance?” Enzo asks slowly, not fully believing he’d heard his friend correctly. Theo was probably one of the most emotionally detached people he’d ever met.
“Yes. Y/n. I want to make it up to her.”
"I thought we didn't like her?" Enzo said, growing more concerned for his friend's mental state by the minute.
"We didn't. But now we do, and I want to make things right."
Enzo blinked. Oh this was not going to be easy.
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As you sat in the court yard with a group of your friends, textbooks in hand as you attempted to study for the charms test the next day, your eyes flickered momentarily as a sea of green wandered by. Quickly you look away before your eyes could meet Theo’s and you try to turn your attention back to your friend’s idle chatter.
It had been what? A month since you’d stopped actively seeking out the boy’s attention. Maybe more. And you missed him. His sarcastic smiles and pretty eyes that seemed to be fixed in a permanent glare.
But you were also tired. Mostly tired of the snarky comments. “Have some self respect.” “So desperate.” The voices of your classmates echoed in your head, and eventually you began to draw back. You knew he’d noticed. You’d seen his eyebrows furrow in confusion that day you’d let your friend sit beside you in class. A pang of guilt washing over you. But it’s not like he showed any signs of wanting things to go back to the way they were. So you simply stayed away. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along.
Your thoughts followed you as you eventually made your way back to your dormitory, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket and disappear. As you approach your bed however, you make out something that definitely wasn’t there when you’d left that morning. A gorgeous bouquet of little white flowers wrapped in thick brown paper, tied off with a silky emerald green ribbon. Stamped on the corner of one of the brown folds, the letters TN shown at you in gold curls.
“Oh those are beautiful!” Your roommate gasps when she sees the flowers. “Lily of the valley! Those can symbolize renewal ya know. Usually they’re given as like, an apology of sorts, or if someone wants to start over.” She tells you. Ever the herbology buff. “Who are they from?”
A smile grows on your lips as her words sink in and you press the flowers close to your chest.
“Just a special friend,” you reply.
After all the months of Theo's coldness towards you, you'd never quite allowed yourself to truly believe the boy would ever return your affection, but maybe things were beginning to look up.
Over the course of the next several days, you begin to notice little things that had Theodore’s name written all over them.
After the charms exam the following day, you find a note of encouragement written in Theo’s familiar scrawl dropped in your bag along with a bag of your favorite toffees. How he’d managed to get it there without you noticing was beyond you.
There were little things too. Your stations in herbology and astronomy were always set up and waiting for you when you walked into class. The book on ancient runes that you’d been searching for showed up on your bedside table. (You weren’t sure how he was doing that either, but you weren’t about to question it.) And there always seemed to be a comfortable smirk on Theodore’s face whenever your eyes wandered over to where he sat with his friends, eyes seemingly boring into you.
Now, you sat quietly in your own little nook of the library, quill in hand as you scribbled away at your ancient runes essay, the book Theo left you being quite helpful.
You were happy he'd found his way back into your life, happier still that he was actually making a point to be included in your life.
“You don’t mind do you?” A voice asks, startling you and causing ink to splatter against the parchment.
With shocked eyes, you look up to see Theodore standing next your table as if your thoughts had summoned him there. He sets his books down, frowning at your now ruined paper.
With a flick of his wand, the mess is gone.
“Sorry bout that,” he mutters, sitting down across from you.
You blink, not entirely convinced you’re not hallucinating.
“You know, I remember you being much more talkative,” he says, a sly smirk reaching across his face as you realize you’ve yet to say anything to the boy.
“I remember you being significantly less talkative,” you blurt out before quickly covering your mouth with your hand in horror.
To your relief, the boy in front of you lets out a low laugh.
"Fair enough. See you've been liking the book," he says, gesturing towards the open text.
"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to say something, thank you."
"Don't worry bout it. I never said thank you for all the things you did. Probably should've." He replies, looking down as he pulls out his own quill and parchment. "I am sorry by the way."
"For?" You ask, head tilting to the side in curiosity.
"Everything. Or for doing nothing is probably more accurate," he says, flipping open his text book.
You can tell that he's nervous as he fidgets with the corners of the book's pages, and you desperately want to ease the tension between the two of you.
A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you debate whether or not to say anything more, or go back to your essay. Finally, you look up at the boy that you had been chasing after for all these months, and remind yourself that he had actually been the one to go through all the trouble of seeking you out tonight.
Gathering your courage, you open your mouth to speak. "Theodore?"
"Yes, Bella?" he replies, eyes carefully following the lines of next.
"Would you like to join me in Hogsmeade this weekend?"
His eyes snap up at this, and you see the familiar hint of red make it's way into his cheeks once more.
"Only if I can have my seat back in History of Magic." The boy replies.
"I think I can have that arranged."
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Hi hi hi! I hope this lives up to all of your hopes and dreams, anon 🫶🏽
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loveronlineee · 2 years
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The Metalhead and the Material Girl (Eddie Munson x Reader)
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Masterlist   All Parts
Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)
Warnings: none
Synopsis: When a super fem new girl joins Eddie’s class he thinks he’s got her all figured out, but he soon finds out that the popular kids aren’t the only ones who judge people’s first appearances 
Y/N notes: none
Okay I don’t usually do writers notes but I gotta say thanks to these four: @carolinaflicker​ @iamsiriuss​ @hauntingtherosebush​ @lindsey3300​ for helping me out on the lil bit of D&D stuff I mentioned. Some of you guys had slightly different answers for me so if I’m still wrong let me know! (And other D&D playing peeps)
Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!
Wanna request something? Look here!
“I’m Y/N L/N. I transferred here from California for my senior year. I like pop music, fashion and hanging out with my friends. And I hope I can become friends with all of you!”
Pretty. Bubbly. Probably a bit of an airhead. The popular kids will scoop her up in a heartbeat. Eddie thought to himself looking up at the new girl. I wonder how long it’ll take for her to be just like everyone else.
The teacher pointed at the empty seat on the metal head’s right, giving the boy a stern look.
“Y/N I’m gonna seat you next to Eddie here at the front so you can help me keep an eye on him.” Eddie grinned and gave the teacher a wink.
Okaaaay here we go. Eddie thought to himself, leaning back in his chair. What kind of popular girl is this one gonna be? Disgusted by me? Weirded out? Just plain old pretend I don’t exist?
“Hi, Eddie was it?” The new girl asked with the biggest most genuine smile Eddie had ever seen. Her face was enough to melt away any built up hate he had accumulated from every harsh comment thrown at him throughout the years.
“Uh yeah Eddie. Eddie Munson.” He couldn’t help the smile appearing on his own face. This girl was a ball of sunshine.
“Nice to meet you Eddie.” He watched as she took out her things from her bag and set them out on the table. Everything was either pink, glittery or had a cute little character on it. She wrote the date on a new page in her notebook, doodling little stars around the numbers.
The teacher came over and placed a piece of paper on Y/N’s desk.
“This is your time table with your classes. Don’t be afraid to ask someone for help.”
“Oh thank you!” Y/N chirped before beginning to read through it. “Hey Eddie, what classes do we have together?” She tilted the paper towards him. Eddie leaned over and skimmed the page.
“Oh wow most of them. We got all the same ones today in fact.”
“Do you mind if I just stuck with you then?”
“Y-Yeah. Yeah that’s cool.” Eddie wasn’t in fact planning on going to all his classes today, like most days, but he couldn’t pass up the chance to get to know this girl more. He spent the morning walking Y/N to all her classes, pointing out other parts of the school she’ll need to know. He revelled in the looks the other students were giving him when they saw them together. The resident freak with a mystery bombshell.
Lunch came around and Y/N followed Eddie to the lunch hall.
“Hey I’ve been meaning to ask you… what’s on your shirt? Is it a band?” Y/N asked.
“It’s my club.”
“Oh cool! You run a club? What’s it about?” Eddie smiled at her as they reached his table of friends.
“A little game called D&D.” He turned to them and gestured to the new girl. “Gentlemen, this is Y/N.”
The boys all looked at her slack jawed, unable to think of anything to say. Luckily, Y/N had enough social skills for the whole table.
“It’s nice to meet you all! I started here today, Eddie’s been showing me around.” She explained as Eddie pulled out the chair in between his and Dustin’s and letting her sit down. He sat in his own chair at the head of the table just observing his friends trying to process this girl being here.
“You’ve been with Eddie…” Mike started asking very slowly, like he was waiting for the pin to drop. “…since this morning?”
“Yeah he’s been really helpful.” Y/N smiled at the younger student. “So are you two freshmen?”
Y/N continued chatting with Mike and Dustin. Eddie looked behind them at the popular kids who were eyeing him suspiciously. The cheerleaders all glaring and whispering to each other. “Eddie!” The metal head looked back at Y/N.
“Yeah?”
“So all these guys are in your club?” She gestured at the group. “You were gonna tell me about D&D earlier, what’s the game about?” Y/N asked, genuinely interested. Eddie grinned. He stood up like he was presenting to a class. Everyone sat up, hands neatly rested on the table, going along with the joke.
“D&D, or Dungeons and Dragons, is a fantasy table-top roleplaying game that only a select few at this school truly appreciate.” Eddie used theatrical hand motions as he described the game, putting one foot on his chair to add to the dramatic effect. “It is a game of teamwork, decision making, and the luck of the dice.”
He gave Dustin a small nod which prompted the boy to take a heavy book out of his bag and put it in front of Y/N. The Dungeons and Dragons Handbook. She began flicking through it, taking in as much as she could. She gasped.
“Can I be a fairy???” Eddie chuckled at her enthusiasm. He sat back down and shuffled his chair closer to hers.
“I’m sure I could homebrew something for you. Either that or you could be an elfen princess? If you just want that pretty ethereal girl look.” Eddie paused. “That… you’ve already got.” He looked back down at his hands, a little hesitant of his last line, before looking back up. Y/N was smiling at the compliment, easing Eddie’s nerves.
“Hey!” Two cheerleaders had approached the table, one calling out to Eddie with annoyance in her voice. “Why don’t you just stick with the freaks?” Eddie leaned away from Y/N and looked to the popular girls.
They turned to Y/N, who seemed a little confused. “You can come and sit with us instead.” One of them said, like she was doing the new girl a favour. Y/N looked over at Eddie. He kept his face the same, not wanting to influence her decision.
Of course he wanted her to stay, but he just couldn’t deal with the guilt of depriving Y/N of having an actual enjoyable high school experience. It didn’t matter how pretty she was, if she was hanging out with the freaks then she was gonna get bullied.
“Oh uh okay then.” Y/N replied apprehensively, slowly getting up. “I-I’ll be back in a minute.” She said as she was dragged away by the cheerleaders. Eddie pursed his lips together in a saddening smile.
“Suuuuuuuure you will.” He said just as Y/N got out of earshot. He looked around at the guys. “And that my friends, concludes the story of the time we almost got a hot chick to play D&D.” The group mumbled and chuckled, going back to their lunch, clearly no where nearly as affected as Eddie.
He knew this was inevitable. With who Y/N was and who he was. But a part of him, a small part of him wanted to believe that she’d stay. For him. That she wouldn’t get poisoned by the ideologies of the social hierarchy. But that was just wishful thinking. He looked back down at the table.
At least it was nice while it lasted.
“Sorry bout that.” Eddie looked back up to see Y/N again. “So I can be an elf princess?”
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“…why are you here?”
“I did say I’d only be gone a minute.” She smiled. Eddie stared at her, unable to speak. His head slowly turned to the popular kids. They looked even more surprised than him.
“W-What about them?” He gestured.
“What about them?” Y/N asked, confused.
“Aren’t you gonna hang out with them?”
“They don’t seem like people I’d want to hang out with.”
“They don’t?”
“Do I look like a bully to you?” She joked. “So, elf princess? Yes?” Eddie’s smile retuned to his face.
“Yeah. Yeah definitely a princess.”
Tag list: @Mikinyi @justaproudslytherpuff @angelicjinwoo @k12baby @spiderman-berries​ @ruhro7​ @justanotherhappyidiot @dontcallmesavvy @kenzi-woycehoski​
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lovelytsunoda · 11 days
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wisdom teeth // oscar piastri (headcanons)
summary: oscar's girlfriend gets her wisdom teeth out
pairing: oscar piastri x female! reader
warnings: mentions of surgery, wisdom teeth, anesthesia....you know, just dental surgery related things
author's note: i lost the picture i normally use for my headcanon dividers and its pissing me off because i can't be bothered to go to an old set and save it again....maybe its time to rebrand slightly.
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he’s such a lover boy!! so attentive for the whole day and recovery period
drives her to the appointment in their Kia suv, something far more sensible than Oscar’s McLaren is, with the sole purpose of making sure she’s comfortable on the way home
he doesn’t leave the surgery once during the procedure. even though they’re told that it will be at least three hours to remove all four teeth, he simply takes a book out of his backpack and camps out in the waiting room
holding her hand while they wait for the anaesthesia to take effect, and kissing her on the forehead before he leaves the operating theatre
he wanted to say but the surgeon said ✨ not on your life✨
so there he is, reading mark webbers autobiography in the waiting room
when she comes out of surgery, she’s not delirious like he had feared
just fucking tired
“hey sweet girl, lean on me. let’s get you to the car. how about we stop for milkshakes on the way home?”
shes bundled up in blankets, groggy as she pushes the seat back, indie rock on the radio and oscar's hand reassuringly rubbing her thigh
shes asleep by the time he gets to the mcdonalds drive through
he has to carry her inside, securely tucking her into their bed and leaving the milkshake on the nightstand
watching tv in the other room at a low volume so he can hear if she wakes up or if she needs anything
helps her shower to wash off the hospital smell, holding her tightly and whispering how proud he is and how good she is
stroking her hair as they eat soup together while watching something mindless on netflix before she falls asleep in his arms halfway through an episode of monk
makes sure she takes all her painkillers on time, drinking lots of water
waits on her hand and foot, even days later when she’s almost fully recovered
“babe, I’m going for a girls night!”
“like hell you are. are you sure you’re well enough? the surgeon said it could take a week. your stitches still need to dissolve.”
“Oscar, it’s just a few mocktails and manicures.”
“fine. but don’t overdo it. no vodka, no sharp foods and no boxing classes at least until Monday.”
“okay, dad.”
but she’s smiling as she says it
Oscar just wants to take care of his pretty girl, and make sure she has everything she needs to get better
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bones4thecats · 1 month
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When Their S/O Meets Their Sibling(s)
Type of Writing: Random Idea Name: When Their S/O Meets Their Sibling(s) Characters: Trey Clover, Jack Howl, Jamil Viper, and Rook Hunt Idea-Giver: Random Ideas
A/N: I named Rook's siblings after the pieces of a chess-game as a headcanon! (btw they’re french names)
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🧁 Trey loves his family so much, and he really wanted you to love them just as much as he did, as they’re basically his whole world
🧁 So, when he received a message from his mother stating that they would be dropping by for a couple days for a small break from the family business, much to both his joy and nervousness
🧁 He was nervous that maybe his family wouldn’t like you or you wouldn’t like his family. And if it was the latter, he really didn’t want to break your heart…
🧁 You stood beside him outside of Heartslabyul as he put his phone away, he had read a message from his father saying they had just arrived and were coming to his dorm
🧁 Gripping his hand tightly, your smile made him sigh and kiss the hand holding his with such care and devotion. You really were perfect. How could they not like you?
🧁 As he spoke to his parents as you played with his younger siblings, his sister smiling as you gave her a small rose-spun flower crown as his brother messed around with a little set of toy vehicles you had gotten for Grim to mess with while Yuu busied himself
" I must admit, Trey. I’m surprised how amazing your S/O is handling those two. " " I agree with your mother. They seem so… content with them around. Unlike their last babysitter. I’ve never seen someone so happy to leave. "
🧁 Trey stared at you with his parents and smiled gently, he even had to admit, it was surprising how good you were holding them together. Normally the person watching them would be on the couch rethinking their life-choices, but not you…
🧁 And before his family left after the two days of vacation with their son, hearing his siblings ramble about how amazing you were as they held tiny gifts you had made them, he knew you were the one
🧁 He can’t wait to see your reaction after graduation day
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🐺 He really wanted you to meet his family. To a beastman of his kind, family is everything. They raised you and gave you a chance at life for crying out loud!
🐺 His family and his are very close, and that is shown multiple times throughout your relationship. The way he would smile gently when looking at the photos on his camera roll that contained his grandparents, parents, and younger siblings made your heart swoon
🐺 Because of how close he was with you and how close he was with his family, he was very happy when the ‘Family Day’ was announced to happen
🐺 He immediately had sent an email to his parents with the note that he wanted them to meet you, who was his new S/O, and hopefully his only one
🐺 When they had arrived, their tails all wagged as they hugged, you just smiled as your family walked away to speak to another one of your close friend’s parents, who were visiting him for the next few days to help with P.E. classes while Vargas was away
🐺 His siblings had gotten bored and pulled you away from their older family members, asking you if you had anything fun to do, much to your enjoyment
" Y/N! Lookie what I made! It’s a drawing of you, grandma, grandpa, papa, mama, and big brother! " " Oh, that looks so cute, sweetie. "
🐺 Jack smiled as you gently held the drawings that his younger sister and brother made of you and his family, and once his mother and grandmother caught a glace, they couldn’t stop complimenting how good you looked alongside their son, much to his embarrassment
" You know, your son did a good job picking an S/O. " " I know. Honestly, I figured he’d go for a meat-head. Oh, how wrong was I? "
🐺 His tail wagged slightly as he overheard his grandfather and father speaking to one another, they really liked you? Now he knew for certain that you were a keeper
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🐍 Jamil did not want to deal with his sister coming to Night Raven College, since she was known to be quite hard for him to handle, especially with Kalim there
🐍 When his sister did shoot him a text saying that she was just a couple minutes from school grounds and was planning on coming over after the day was over to see her brother, he groaned and asked her not too
🐍 Unfortunately, she was very stubborn, much like her brother. Not that he admits it
🐍 She did send him a small message saying that she wanted to meet his supposed S/O as well, but he had gotten busy keeping Kalim from jumping from his balcony and onto his magic carpet, so he had no chance to actually read the message
" Y/N! It’s so good to finally meet you. Let me just say my brother doesn’t stop talking about you over summer, it’s gotten annoying. "
🐍 Jamil watched with wide eyes and flushed cheeks as his sister and Kalim began discussing how much Jamil talked about you after your first year’s summer, revealing just how much he admired you back then until current day
" Okay! Let’s not keep this going, it seems that Jamil is flustered~ " " Shut up… "
🐍 Najma smiled and pat her brother’s shoulder with a laugh as she grabbed your hand and dragged you around Scarabia as Jamil followed you, her, and Kalim
🐍 He watched as you would smile and try keeping the two energetic people calmer than usual, thank goodness you had just as much patience as him when it comes to this kind of thing
" My older brother always raves about your eyes, saying they looked like the night and day’s sky, comparing the sun to the sparkles your eyes contain. He’s so cheesy! " " Right? I heard him talk about their selflessness with so much happiness that I thought he was another person! " " Alrighty then! Let’s calm ourselves, I don’t want Jamil erupting like a volcano… " " Aw! They care so much about you, brother! How sweet. "
🐍 The blush on his cheeks erupted at how calm you acted with him, you cared about him that much? Normally whoever discusses with his sister just agree that he’s an oddball
🐍 You really are an amazing person, huh?
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🏹 Rook adores his siblings, both older and younger, very much
🏹 They are fairly similar to him when it comes to personalities, but they are quite different in their own unique ways, his oldest sibling, Leroy (King), for example loves to take photos instead of watch for a while like Rook
🏹 When he received a letter from one of his oldest younger sibling, Chevalier (Knight), saying that they were going to come by and visit him, he smiled and told you immediately, asking if you would care to meet his family
🏹 You just smiled and nodded at his enthusiasm, you knew he cared for his siblings and you very much, so you understood why he wanted you guys to meet badly
🏹 Hugging you from behind as he pressed his hat on your head to protect you from the sun’s strong rays, Rook’s signature smile seemingly was twice as large as he awaited the arrival of his multiple family members
" Rook! "
🏹 Turning around from the bench, Rook laughed with a booming sound as his three younger siblings, Chevalier, Évêque (Bishop), and Pionne (Pawn), jumped into his arms as his older ones, Leroy and Reine (Queen), stood and chuckled
🏹 Reine looked at you and pushed her hair behind her ear as he embraced you. This didn't surprise you, you predicted that all of the Hunt siblings were very affectionate and bold with their actions
" It is a delight to meet you, Y/N! Our brother sends us letters about you constantly! I must admit, it’s sweet to read how kind you are with our unique brother. "
🏹 Hearing that made your heart swoon as Rook nodded and smiled sweetly at his younger siblings, patting their heads as they showed him photos of things they had either caught or had made during the past few days
🏹 He is unique like they say, but he’s your kind of unique, and you wouldn’t change him for the world… despite Grim’s many protests while Yuu holds him back…
🏹 That cat was gonna be the death of you…
699 notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
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when in rome
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words: 1.7k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, female receiving oral, mentions of a blowjob, plane sex, mile high club woohoo!, cheating, not a happy ending!, angst
“hello.” you smile at the handsome man as the flight attendant guides him to his seat, and you’re glad its next to yours.
“hey.” he smiles right back and you swear you fall in love at that moment. “i’m rafe.”
“y/n.” you can feel your face flush, and you pray that its a cute blush rather than a full red face.
“nice to meet you.” he adjusts how he's sitting. you figure that due to his height it must be uncomfortable to fly, even if he is flying business class. “gonna get to know each other real well, huh?”
“yeah, seems like it.” you giggle. you find yourself going from dreading the 8 hour nonstop flight to looking forward to it as you fall into easy conversation with rafe.
“so, what are your plans in italy?” he asks you.
“ah, vacation mostly. i have some distant family i’m going to visit but its really just a fun trip for me. what about yourself?” “business.” rafe sighs. you should have been able to guess by his outfit, everything about him reads business man, even though he’s clearly on the younger side, you guess not much older than yourself.
“you’ll get some time to see a bit of the sights at least, right?” you ask hopefully.
“i will definitely find time if you’re the one showing them to me.” rafe smirks at you, making the flirtation clear, giving you the go ahead to bat your eyelashes right back at him.
--
“this-” you gasp. “this isn’t what i had in mind when you said show you the sights. thought you meant like the trevi fountain or-” your mind is completely blank of other attractions to see in rome, despite that being your whole reason for visiting. you’re far too overwhelmed with rafe between your thighs.
“mmm, this sight is all i wanna see.” he leans forward to press a kiss to your clit before darting his tongue out and flicking over it, movements still teasingly light like they have been for the past ten minutes.
“feels so good.” you moan. even with keeping his movements so gentle, its still evident rafe has a talented mouth.
he finally leans in fully, lips wrapping around your clit as he sucks the sensitive flesh into his mouth. your hands reach for his hair, grabbing onto the dirty blond strands. 
you try to keep your moans quiet as rafe eats you out, you really do, for the sake of the people staying in the hotel rooms next to yours, but you simply can’t help when you moan out, his sucking forcing it out of you.
“can’t wait to get inside this cute little hole.” rafe smirks, tongue moving down to your entrance, finally showing it some appreciation. he laps over your cunt, unashamed to slurp and swallow your juices, shocked how wet you are (although he shouldn’t be after teasing you for so long).
“i can’t wait to feel your dick.” you moan, hands tightening on his hair but rafe doesn’t complain as you push his face forward, finally conceding and sticking his tongue into your entrance, feeling your gummy walls against the muscle as he begins to thrust it in and out.
rafe continues for as long as he possibly can, even grinds into the bed slightly to hold off from how badly he needs to give his dick attention, but he can’t take it anymore.
you are completely naked while rafe is still fully dressed, now kneeling between your legs. he works on the buttons of his shirt first before tossing it away, undoing his belt buckle while keeping his eyes locked with yours until he’s able to slide it out of the loops, also joining his shirt somewhere on the floor.
he’s built for a businessman, muscles gleaming in the low light as he works his pants and underwear off next until his hard cock is revealed, standing upright away from his body with pride.
“wanna suck you.” you begin to sit up, but rafe pushes your waist gently back down against the bed.
“you can suck me off after showing me the trevi fountain tomorrow. need to get inside you.”
“tomorrow?” you smile. you weren’t sure when you called his number after exchanging them on the plane if he would even pick up, let alone find time to come and see you while in rome. “aren’t you busy?” “don’t care what my boss says.” rafe simply shrugs. “not if it means getting more time with you.”
its strangely romantic for someone who is basically a complete stranger to say, but the thought is quickly swept out of your head when rafe drapes himself over your body, his cock rubbing through your slick folds.
“condom.” you suddenly realize, eyes widening.
“shit, i don’t have one.” rafe groans, still rubbing his cock against you. “please, baby.” “i-i guess its fine.” you’re on the pill, but you only met rafe a few days ago, and unprotected sex would be completely out of the question if you weren’t so desperate for him to plunge his dick inside of you.
“thank you, baby.” rafe says, the nickname rolling like butter off his tongue, making your eyes flutter closed.
he reaches down with one hand, lining his cock up with your entrance before sinking in, both voices joining in a chorus as you moan out. 
“fuck, you’re so tight. feels so good.” rafe praises you, his hand reaching to grip your tit in is large hand, encompassing so much of your chest.
“mmm, slow.” you flinch slightly, still adjusting to how big he feels inside of you, stretching at your walls. “slow at first please.”
rafe nods, hips barely moving as he rocks in and out, dropping himself lower to press a kiss to your lips, quickly turning into a makeout session until rafe just can’t keep the slow pace anymore.
“you’re good.” you tell rafe, who has been slowly increasing his tempo since you started kissing.
“thank god.” he moans, hips going from soft swings to instant heavy pounding, thrusting wildly up into you. you let out an involuntary squeal as you reach up above your head, gripping the headboard as rafe repositions himself slightly, now kneeling with your hips held firmly in his big hands, holding you up so he gets the perfect angle to hammer inside of you.
you moan as you feel your high building, never having been able to from just penetration before, but rafe is hitting a spot inside of you that you swear no man has ever touched before, and when you feel him release inside of you, your own orgasm forces itself out too with a scream.
--
“i mean what are the chances we have the same flight back.” you laugh. you’re not sat next to each other like before, but you do plan on asking to move seats so rafe can keep you preoccupied again.
“i know.” he smirks, leaning forward to press a kiss to the edge of your mouth. “can’t wait to fuck you in the bathroom.”
you roll your eyes at him at the moment, but you do let him take you into the bathroom when the lights dim for everyone else to sleep, easily enticed by his blue eyes.
“gotta be quiet for real now baby.” rafe says, having somehow maneuvered both of your clothes off in the small room.
his hips are thrusting up into yours, his palm covering your mouth, seeing by the gloss in your eyes that you’re already too far gone to hold your noises back. thankfully, your hands are still able to grip the edge of the sink to keep yourself steady.
“can’t be like in the hotel room.” he smirks. you eventually got a noise complaint on your fourth night there, but the hotel associate simply asked you to keep it down before retreating, probably intimidated by the fact that rafe still had very little on when answering the door.
“wanna kiss you so bad, gotta promise me you won’t moan the second i take my hand away.” rafe says, looking into your eyes. 
you nod, batting your eyelashes at him in a way that has him instantly conceding, hand dropping away from your mouth, quickly being replaced by his own lips, still not trusting you fully, especially when he uses his newly freed hand to reach between your bodies and rub your clit.
rafe manages to dampen your moans that flow into his mouth as he pumps up faster, still without a condom, having never gotten around to buying them between working and trying to spend every spare moment inside of you, only agreeing to see the sights so your bodies could both recover before fucking again.
“close.” you whimper. rafe smiles, hes learned your body so well in such a short period of time, he was able to tell just from the way your cunt began to pulsate around his cock that your high was almost upon you.
rafe moves faster, the sink squeaking slightly until your body tenses briefly before turning into a tremble, clit pulsing under his finger as rafe lets out a low moan, lodging himself as deep within you as he can before cumming.
you feel blissed out, elated for the rest of the flight, even managing to catch some sleep while leaning against rafes shoulder. you don’t even think about what is going to happen after you land back in america, how you are going somewhere different than where rafe is.
you walk out of the plane right behind him, expecting him to turn and take your hand like he did when walking around rome, or to turn around ask you if you’d like to chat and have some coffee, maybe even kiss you and pull you into a random secluded lounge.
but he does none of those things, simply keeps on walking. you follow him, tears starting to swell in your eyes.
they fall when a girl runs up to him, her long blond waves flowing as she jumps into his arms, pressing a kiss to his lips that rafe instantly accepts like he hasn’t been kissing you for the past week.
“i’ve missed you so much, rafey!” she squeals. you’re not sure if its her words or the high pitch of her voice that causes you to stagger back.
rafe still doesn’t look back as he walks away, doesn’t turn to see you fall to your knees, doesn’t witness the way sobs rack your body.
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895 notes · View notes
distantdarlings · 5 months
Text
RECIPROCATION // e. berkshire
RATING: R / 3.7K WORDS
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Enzo Berkshire x Reader Insert (No gender-specific details)
+ SUMMARY - *Requested (based on this)* Enzo Berkshire has a tendency to flirt with you. You reciprocate the flirtation, thinking that he genuinely may like you, but that hope is screwed up when he seems to be flirting with another person.
+ WARNINGS - Language, kissing, nothing else really, not fully proof-read (Fluff, Romance)
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
As Long As You Love Me - Sleeping At Last
(Note: I am very sorry for the sudden delay in all of my writing. To be quite honest, I started a new job and got into a car crash this week and haven't been writing at all. Please accept this request, and I will have pt. 5 of By the Fireplace out ASAP)
---
“Hey, darling, wait up!” 
The voice came from behind you. You pivoted on your heels, stopping right in your tracks on your way to Defense Against Dark Arts, and glanced around. Your eyes circled the hallway until they landed on a waving hand attached to a grinning body. A smile spread over your lips as you recognized the voice's owner. Lorenzo Berkshire. Handsome, funny, old-money rich, with a side of infamy due to his frightening family. 
He stopped before you, panting slightly from the jog up to you. His face was a bit flushed, and his lips were parted with a bit of shine spread over them. He looked absolutely breathtaking. You nearly had to steady yourself as he combed his fingers through his hair. 
“Well, hello, Berkshire. Are you on your way to class as well?” You turned back the way you were initially heading and started off, beckoning for him to follow. He gave a slight nod, never dropping his glorious smile. 
“Yeah, I spotted you on my way out of the courtyard and figured I’d walk with you,” he said, “it’d give me a chance to see my favorite person.” Your stomach flushed. Favorite person? You could have fainted.
“Well, I’m glad you wanted to walk with me,” you smiled, clutching your books tightly against your chest. 
Enzo had always been an enormous flirt—specifically toward you. You’d be lying if you said you minded it; after all, the boy was absolutely gorgeous and practically everything you could ever want out of a romantic partner. He oozed radiance and dripped sex. Damn it. Your eyes watched as he jogged ahead of you to grab the door to the classroom, the muscles along his forearm rippling wonderfully. Merlin’s sake, he looked like he belonged on the cover of a Muggle romance novel. 
You flashed him your best smile and slipped through the door, watching as he followed quickly behind you. 
The two of you had been friends for a very long time—almost since first year, to be exact. Halfway through second year, the two of you had been paired together for a project in Potions class, and not only had you succeeded in working together flawlessly, but you’d also grown really close. He had always been a good friend to you, no matter what you needed. He was, quite honestly, more than you deserved. But, on the darker side of things, as he grew older, he grew quite flirty. At every turn, he was tracing you with his eyes or making a quick quip about your eyes or your clothing. It was more than you could handle on some days. Your platonic feelings toward him had very quickly become romantic feelings. 
You selected your usual seat in the classroom and kicked the chair beside you out so Enzo could take his place next to you. You mentally prepared yourself for a whole period of brushing elbows, skimming shoes, and knowingly glancing at each other. Why wouldn’t he just admit he liked you already? There was apparent tension between the two of you—even other people had caught on. So why couldn’t he just admit it? Granted, you could say the same for yourself.
Once the Professor had settled everybody in and started with the lecture, you saw Enzo begin to rummage through his bag slowly, trying not to disturb anyone. One hand held the fabric pocket open while the other selected his class journal and his ink kit. You’d already had your things set out by now, but you figured he was just a little behind, per usual. Not that it was a bad thing. It was sort of endearing. 
Through glances out of the corner of your eye, you saw him flip his journal open, collect a generous amount of ink on the tip of his quill, and begin to write. The soft scratches of the quill’s tip tickled the edges of your ear, sending a line of chills down your arm. There was only a tiny amount of information written on the board so far, so he should have no trouble keeping up. 
After a few minutes of continuous scratching, Enzo’s elbow gently bumped yours. Discreetly, you looked over at him and scrunched your eyebrows in silent question. He gestured with his head to the small folded paper beside me. How odd, you hadn’t even heard him tear it out. You quietly placed your quill into its ink well and slipped the note between your stomach and the desk to conceal the message from the professor. 
Have I mentioned that you are looking absolutely ravishing today? Your jaw nearly dropped. With wide eyes, you looked over at him. A smug smirk was printed on his face as he sent an addicting wink your way. You tried your hardest not to blush, but, of course, you’d failed. Must he always be this…severe? You flipped the note over to the other side and wrote: I think this letter was meant for someone else. Unless you have something to tell me? You passed it back. He wrote quickly.
Of course not, darling. Just that you are the most beautiful person in this room. In attempted controlled laughter, the two of you shouldered the other. You knew he was joking, but still, you quietly slipped the paper into your bag. Something about those words in his handwriting directed to you had you blushing. You both returned to your note-taking for the class. 
A few moments of comfortable silence passed before you noticed Enzo’s shoulder shaking with silent laughter. You looked over briefly, seeing a note in his hands. You thought it may have been the same one the two of you had been communicating on before you remembered that you had put that one in your bag. A closer glance revealed that Enzo’s handwriting was on the paper, as was someone else’s. You didn’t recognize the penmanship. You leaned a bit closer, careful not to disturb him as he read the note. 
Have you considered who you will invite to the winter formal? A question to Enzo. Then, his response. I’ve thought long and well about it, darling. Your heart clenched. You flicked your eyes around the room, trying to guess who had sent the note, and landed on some girl from Hufflepuff giggling to her friend and occasionally casting glances at a smirking Enzo. Her eyes caught yours, and you quickly dropped the contact, returning to your notes. Was Enzo taking one of them to the formal? Because you’d honestly thought…never mind.
Your fingers subconsciously tightened around your quill; so tight, in fact, that your knuckles bled white and the end of its feather creased.
“Woah,” Enzo laughed, “what did that quill ever do to you?” His voice snapped you out of your internal rage. Tendrils of guilt and jealousy spiraled around your throat. 
“Nothing, just tired,” you lied, releasing your death grip on the quill and returning to your work. You ignored him for the rest of class, completely missing the nervous glances he threw you every so often. 
By the end of the lecture, you’d packed your things as quickly as possible and headed out the door, not bothering to wait for Enzo to catch up. Perhaps it was childish, but you really thought he might have had feelings for you. But it seemed that the natural flirtation may just be part of his personality. 
You blew a sigh through your lips and pushed a hand through your hair. Surely, there was an explanation as to why he seemed to prefer you to other students. He never followed those Hufflepuff girls around like he did you. Or did he? Maybe you just hadn’t seen him doing it. You suppressed the urge to let out a groan. Why couldn’t romance and crushes and love be simple?
You headed toward the Great Hall to stock up on a bit of lunch; there was no way in hell you were eating in there today. With your luck, you’d crash right into Enzo and have him demand why you stormed out of class. Not that he’d demand anything. He was always so gentle with you…no, shut up. You weren’t going to think about him anymore today. You need to forget about it and focus on studying for your test in Potions today. 
You were kind of absolutely terrible at the class and needed all the help you could get. More than once, you’d been tempted to write the answers on your hand and briefly turn them invisible with a simple spell, but you weren’t that low. You weren’t going to cheat. Enzo was good at Potions class. He could help—
“Ugh!” You pushed the boy out of your head as you turned into the Great Hall, conjuring a small cloth napkin. It fell into your hand delicately and displayed itself evenly as you began to pack a few things onto it—a bit of cheese, some grapes, a muffin. You smiled to yourself as your stomach rumbled. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until just now. All of this worrying about He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Jr. (not the noseless one) had your stomach clawing for some sustenance. 
You scooped all of the food together and tied a small knot into the napkin, slipping it into your cloak pocket. One of the goblets you’d gotten from your birthday last year appeared before you, and you poured some pumpkin juice into it. You wouldn’t take one of their goblets because you knew you’d forget to return it. Wandlessly, you sent it back to your dormitory.
You turned and headed toward the grand doors, eyes toward the ground. You whisked across the stone floors, focusing on one thing only: getting back to your dorm without bumping into any…unmentionables. 
A few familiar voices swirled around you as they passed by. You tucked your head even more, realizing it was a few of Enzo’s friends. You were friendly with them and knew they’d say something and draw attention to you if they recognized you. You prayed they wouldn’t notice. 
And just as you had ducked your head once more and pulled the edges of your cloak over your face, you ran straight into a solid wall of Slytherin boy. You grunted from the impact and braced for the fall on your ass when he caught you quickly and steadied you. You didn’t need to look up to know who it is. You’d know his scent anywhere. 
Swallowing your pride, you glanced up and made quick eye contact with Enzo. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern, and his eyes flickered over your face. You figured he was searching for some answer to your behavior earlier. You sighed and shook your head slightly, dropping the eye contact. The fingers from his left hand tightened around your arm, and his right hand tilted your head to return his gaze to yours. Embarrassed, you jerked your head out of his grasp and pushed past him. 
Your legs moved faster than they had in a long while as you practically ran up to your dorm, trying to restrain the tears pooling in your eyes. That was quite literally the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened to you. Whether it was your imagination or not, you’d thought that the people around the two of you had completely silenced themselves and had been watching you. Your cheeks burned in shame. Curse this stupid crush. 
Once you come upon the entrance to the Slytherin common room, you quickly speak the password and swipe a few falling tears from your cheeks. You prayed that no one was seated in the common room lest you fully die of mortification. Surely, Enzo had just been doing that because of his usual flirtatious behavior. Nothing else explains why he would have touched you like that. So gently and easily as he reconnected your eyes. The way he had looked at you as he held you tightly to keep you from falling. His lips had parted with a small exhale that had danced across your cheeks, cool and smelling of sweet mint. His thumb had brushed the surface of your chin, daring you to place your lips on it. Fuck!
You pushed through your dormitory door and pressed your hands to your face. You collapsed onto your bed, a small sob leaving your body. Fuck, you were so ashamed. Everything about Enzo swirled around your brain just as it did every day. Every detail of his face was sharp and gorgeous as if carved by Merlin himself. The curve of his lips, the tilt of his cheekbones, the way his hands seemed to always lay upon you somehow. Whether it was tilting your chin up to force your eyes back to his or pressing a hand along the small of your back to lead you forward, it didn’t matter what he was doing. All of it made the rate of your breath increase substantially. Every piece of him made up the strokes of your dreams. You were absolutely in l—
Your name cut your thoughts off. Enzo slammed through the dormitory door, eyes frantic and wild, darting around the room. When they fell upon you as you lay curled up, pitiful and sobbing, in your bed, he pushed the door shut and sped over to you. He squatted down beside the bed until his eyes were level with yours. You refused to look at him. His eyes never left you. As always, he never backed down, while you did so easily. He was so much better than you. 
His hand slowly raised above your head that was pressed into the mattress. Your eyes watched him as he moved, and as he reached the edge of your skull, he let it hover there. You glanced up at him in question, and his eyebrows raised. You nodded. His hand gently laid against the side of your head, slowly rolling his thumb from the tip of your eyebrow to your hairline. It was soothing, and his hands were soft and warm. You felt safe beneath his large grip.
“What happened?” he whispered, eyes searching yours. “Was it something I did or said? If it was something that I caused, we can talk about it. I promise I’ll fix—”
“It’s not you, En,” you interrupted, your voice crackling beneath the weight of your pathetic tears. You were mortified. “It’s me, I guess I just…I just thought…” The words refused to leave your mouth. Your eyes closed in frustration.
“You thought what? Tell me,” he whispered, scooting his face closer to yours, his thumb never stopping its calming motion. 
“It’s stupid,” you whined.
“No, it’s not,” he replied, “it’s making you upset. I want to fix it…did someone do something to you?” You shook your head. The culprit of your current emotional status was none other than yourself. 
“I wanted you to ask me to the formal,” you winced in embarrassment, “and I got upset that you’re asking that girl in Defense instead…” His eyes widened for a moment, and he said nothing. My God, this was the worst day of your life. Your eyes welled up with tears at the possibility of verbal rejection. “God, I know I sound like a toddler, whining like this, but I really like you, En.”
“You don’t sound like a toddler,” he said. His face moved even closer to yours. You could feel his breath on your face now and count each individual eyelash. His eyelids were half-closed now, an air of intimacy spinning between the two of you. “I like you too…a lot.”
The pitch of his voice pushed a shiver through you. The feeling of acceptance brushed through you quickly, elating your heartbeat. Enzo liked you back? Fuck, Enzo liked you back. Your eyes refused to leave his, now. Your heart pounded in your ears, echoing against the back of your skull. 
“I…” you breathed, your voice trailing off. Could you even get the words out? Your breath shuddered as his hands slid down the top of your head to pinch your chin again. He held you in place, his fingers so warm against your skin. His thumb brushed slowly over your top lip.
“Can I kiss you?” he breathed. Each exhale from his lips painted the edges of your jawline, teasing longing out of you. Enzo wanted to kiss you. You wanted to kiss him so badly. You slowly nodded your head. 
Then his fingers weren’t so easy as he pulled himself roughly to your face. His lips crashed against yours, clacking your teeth together. You gasped into his mouth as he stood and slipped onto the bed over you, never once separating your lips. Your heart felt as though it was going to explode. You weren’t sure if you could handle this feeling. 
Your fingers tightened in his smooth hair, reveling in the feeling of the delicate strands. He sighed against your lips as the motion tugged at his scalp. Every feeling, every touch, every brush of his lips was almost too much for you to accept. Your chest rose heavily at the feeling, your heart thrashing against your rib cage. You were sure if he kept on, with him caressing every inch of the inside of your mouth, you’d faint. 
You jerked away from him, pushing yourself out from under him and against your headboard. 
“I’m sorry. Was that too far?” he immediately spoke. His hair was tousled, his cheeks were flushed, and his lips were swollen. He looked absolutely ethereal. The air entered and left his chest at a rapid pace. His fingers nervously closed around your blanket. 
“No!” you practically screamed. “It wasn’t too far…I thought my chest was going to burst.” You chuckled breathlessly, pressing a shaking hand against your heart. You had dreamed of that feeling for months, and getting to experience it so suddenly had you reeling. Enzo was flawless, and every aspect of his perfect being was pushing your shattered self back together. He was more than just a crush.
“I’m sorry, I’m a bit embarrassed,” you laughed. 
“Me too,” he smiled sheepishly, “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time; I suppose I was a bit too eager.” Fuck, he was perfect. 
“You’ve wanted to kiss me for a long time?” He looked at you as if you were slow. As if his following words were the only possible response that could have come out of his mouth. 
“Of course I have,” he laughed, “have I not been terribly obvious? I thought it was easy to see that I’ve been utterly in love with you for the last year.” Your lips fell apart in shock. 
“You…love me?”
“Yes,” he breathed. His eyes flickered down to your lips once again. Everything in your body urged you to touch him again, to feel his lips on yours, but you wanted more information.
“But, why?” you laughed. 
“Why? Oh, you have no idea. I am in love with you. You are the most perfect person I have ever met—” his hands removed themselves from the blankets to press to either side of your face—“your personality, your humor, your mind, everything about you makes my heart swell. When you look at me, when you walk next to me, when your arms would brush me in class…those small gestures have always been enough to sustain a deep desire to be loved by you.”
“En—”
“If you do not reciprocate those feelings, that is okay. I’m not going to force you to feel anything toward me. The feeling of that kiss was enough, and if you asked me never to speak to you again…it would be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I will do it, knowing that I told you my true feelings. The feeling of your lips on mine has renewed me forever.”
“Fuck,” you sobbed. The two of you laughed as tears welled in your eyes. The impact of Enzo’s words had hit you like a train, burrowing deep into the vessels of your heart. You never knew someone could be capable of loving in a way such as that, let alone the recipient of that love being you. And to think that he wasn’t even sure if you loved him back. To think he said all of that, not knowing if he’d ever feel the same thing in return. It was enough for the tears to begin sliding down your cheeks.
“Please don’t cry,” he whispered. His thumbs gently brushed the liquid away from your cheeks. A small smile was plastered on his face, and his eyes were easy and comforting.
“En,” you sobbed, your voice shaking, “of course I love you back. That’s why I was so upset earlier. I’ve loved you for so long. All I think of is you…I have to push you from my thoughts to get anything done.” The two of you laughed quietly.
“I’m that distracting?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow teasingly. You rolled your eyes and nodded, the smile refusing to leave your lips. Your cheeks ached beneath the pull of the grin, but nothing was going to pull it away from you. You were much too happy for that.
He pulled your body against him, cradling your head lovingly against his chest as your arms wrapped around his waist. He smelled sweet and familiar, his heartbeat pushing slightly against your cheek. The feeling of him pressed against you was more than you ever could have hoped for. His strong arms held you tightly in place, warding off anything that could ever get to you. Within Enzo’s hold, you felt like you could survive anything as if his body was energizing you. The love surging through your veins slipped against his, eternally binding them together. You were Enzo’s, and he was yours; that was all you’d ever hoped for. The universe had been particularly kind today. You smiled, your eyes slipping closed. 
“I love you,” he whispered, his lips pressed into your hair. You took a moment to relish in the feeling of having someone say that to you, of having him say that to you. It felt so perfect.
“I love you too, En.”
729 notes · View notes
iheartyouyou · 2 years
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OUT LOUD | Eddie Munson
Summary: When you and Robin pass notes in class about Eddie Munson, the teacher calls you both out for it, confiscating the notes. To make matters worse, she reads the notes out loud catching the attention of the very special freak.
Part 2
Author’s Note: Not proofread, sorry lmao 😭
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You felt a tap on your shoulder. You turn around to be met by a very annoyed classmate with a neatly folded up note gripped in between their two fingers. They looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to grab it.
You take it, looking around to see who could have given it to you. You locked eyes with Robin, her nodding to you to open the note.
“When are you going to tell him?” The note read in sloppy hand-writing. Robin’s hand writing wasn’t the very best, you were surprised that you were even able to read it.
“Who?” You wrote underneath her sentence. You knew who she was talking about, you just decided to play dumb. What if— whoever the person’s name behind you— read it and told Eddie that the two of you were passing notes about the dungeon master? Ever since Robin found out about your crush on Eddie, she has been nonstop trying to convince you to tell him.
You turned around in your seat, a tight-lipped smile on your lips as you gave it to the person behind you. They frown, snatching the note before giving it to Robin.
You watch as she opens it, her eyes scanning the paper before looking up at you with a quirked eyebrow. She scribbled something on the paper before giving it back to the annoyed person who was now a note messenger for the two of you.
You take the note, opening it up. “Eddie? Who else would I be talking about. You really need to tell him, I’m telling you, he likes you back! I swear I saw him staring at you earlier in the hallway, his eyes were like heart-shaped!”
A faint blush painted your cheeks. Was he actually staring at you earlier? The two of you only talked a few times, only knowing each other because of Robin and Steve. You guys have probably talked three times the whole school year. The first time was when Steve introduced you two, the second was when you accidentally bumped into him during lunch and the third time… was when you bumped into him, again.
“Chrissy was near me. He was probably staring at her.” You quickly scribbled onto the paper.
“Ms. Y/L/N.” Your teacher started, her witch hand snatching the piece of paper out your hands. You gasped.
“Are your notes more important than this class?” She asked, squinting her eyes to read the words written on the paper.
“N-no, ma’am.” You mumbled. You prayed that she would just throw it away, confiscate it and tell you, you can get it after class. But, no. With your luck, she decided to humiliate you, her screechy voice reading everything out-loud enough for the whole school to hear.
She mimicked the words, trying her best to read Robin’s sloppy handwriting. “When are you going to tell him? Who? Ed…” You slouched into your seat, covering your face with your hands to hide your red, embarrassed face. You prayed that the ground would open up and swallow you whole.
You didn’t dare look up, even when she lectured you about how you should be worrying more about school than boys. How boys were going to get you nowhere in life. She then threw the note in the trash, her face grimacing.
You could hear a few snickers from students in the classroom, some whispering and judging you for having a crush on the infamous freak. You could already imagine the rumors that would be spreading around by the end of the day.
What did Eddie think of you now? Was he snickering along with the rest or the class? Was he going to take apart of those rumors? Was he disgusted? Embarrassed for you?
You hesitantly removed your face from your hands, looking back at Robin to send her a glare. She just gave you a apologetic look before mouthing the word “sorry”.
In your peripheral vision you could see someone staring at you. You already knew who it was. You remembered where he sat, it was the one area of the room you tried your best to avoid— to avoid any obvious signs of your crush on him.
You turned back in your seat, crossing your arms as you went back to slouching. You prayed and begged that you would be able to escape the classroom before Eddie could have the chance to confront you. You could just avoid him for the rest of your life.
A few minutes went by of you trying to find a way to disappear when you felt a all-too-familiar tap on your shoulder. Was Robin trying to embarrass you, again?
You turned around, the note messenger holding up another note for you to take. You look back quickly at the teacher to make sure she wasn’t looking before snatching it, turning back around to open it up under your desk.
“I was actually staring at you, not Chrissy. Cheerleaders aren’t my type. - Eddie”
12K notes · View notes
jakeshands · 1 year
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stars will fall
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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🫶🫶
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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.”
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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😆😆
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sinsirellaxx · 2 months
Note
I love love love your toxic Slytherin boys series. Can you write how they would react if you tried to give them notes (aka constructively criticize them in bed). I think it would be cute/funny. ILY!
Slytherin boys – you (respectfully) criticize them in bed
Warning: Toxic boys and slight smut here and there
A/N: I'm sorry, this isn't as funny and cute as I initially wanted it to be – but I hope you still enjoy it! Love you too! ❤️
Mattheo …
… is shocked. He’d be deeply offended but instead of blowing up or trying to argue he’ll just have to prove that he is unmatched in bed. Whatever you tell him, he’ll disprove. If you tell him that he should pay more attention to your clit, whenever he goes down on you, he would do exactly that. But with a twist: he’d not stop until you were crying from being overstimulated, the muscles in your thighs spasming – your body completely shutting off.
“Already tired, love?” He’d murmur breathlessly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “We’re just getting started, doll. You’re in for a long night.”
Theodore …
… blinked at you when you told him he was always too rough. “Too rough?” He questioned; his brows raised. Your cheek flushed red as you fidgeted in front of him, slowly nodding your head as you confessed that it hurt sometimes.
“I’m sorry for hurting you, tesoro.” He whispered softly, tracing your jaw with his fingers before taking a hold of your chin. “I’ll be more careful. Sometimes I just can’t help it – I get lost in the feeling of you.” He mumbled seductively as he lifted your face to kiss you.
Lorenzo …
… scoffed when you told him that he was bad with his fingers. He glared at you as you apologized, telling him that you didn’t mean to offend him. Lorenzo would not touch you for days. He’d reject any advances from you and watch your face fall every time.
He’d wait until the perfect timing until he made his move – which was in class. You were sitting next to him at the far back of the classroom. Enzo moved his right hand to your thigh, the corners of his lips twitching as he felt you flinch and tense up. His fingers teased the hem of your skirt before moving his fingers towards your panties. You tried removing his hand from advancing any further, but he managed to slip his fingers under the cotton fabric, slowly teasing your slit.
He'd show you how talented he was with his fingers. He was an excellent pianist after all.
Draco …
… is offended. No matter how nice and careful you were about it Draco was mad. He’d be ashamed. Instead of trying to listen to you he would completely reject whatever you have to say.
He wouldn’t initiate intimacy for the next few weeks either and would always find an excuse. “I’m not in the mood.” “Not now.”
He would be so petty about the whole thing. You would have to pull him aside and talk to him about it, reassuring him that he was great.
Blaise …
… laughed out loud. When you repeated what you said and told him you were being serious, he stopped. He didn’t know what to say either but after gathering his thoughts he asked you to exactly tell him what you want before removing his shirt. He’d not let you leave before you hadn’t told him how you liked it.
Tom …
… threw you on his bed before you could even open your lips to speak. He read your mind – which he occasionally did – and was shocked to hear you weren’t completely satisfied. He had taken offense to your thoughts and the only way for him to forgive you is to make you regret thinking them.
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charcoallbaby · 2 months
Text
professor sturniolo
smutttt everyone is 18+ nothing is underage.
my longest work yet! watched millers girls and got inspired, enjoy ! ending is petty hehe ^_^
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do you ever wish you could have someone you know you can’t have? especially your married professor.
well that was me two months ago
i placed my books down onto my desk infront of me. the class was empty other than me, two quiet students sitting at the back and the professor of course. he had his back to us, writing the subject of todays class onto the chalk board. i studied his broad shoulder that flexed underneath his thin shirt.
i looked down at my blank phone screen. a notification quickly popped up. it was my mom.
mom💝
me and your sister are going out before you come home, we’ll be home late. make sure no drinking when i’m not home !!
“good morning everyone!” the professor spoke.
i quickly locked my phone before looking up. “well to the 3 people here,” he cleared his throat then leaned against his desk. he scanned his eyes around the room looking at us. his eyes met mine. i could feel my stomach drop. “while we’re waiting for everyone else would you like to introduce yourselves?” he crossed his arms. his eyes were still directly on mine. i looked down at my phone, reminding me of my mothers text. i rolled my eyes. she always has some excuse to not be home.
“you!” the professor called out. i quickly looked up. “me?” i pointed my finger on my chest. he nodded his head. “im y/n,” “y/n y/l/n.” my voice was shaky. “nice to meet you ms y/l/n,” he gave me a small smile. i gave him one back.
he was about to speak before he got interrupted by students piling into the room. “ah!” “you guys decided to join us,” “i’m mr sturniolo.”
he passed papers around the room. he was standing above me. i looked up at him before he placed my paper on the desk. he stared down at the books placed infront of me. “that’s a good one,” he pointed at my current read. i looked down at his hand especially a ring. fuck he’s married.
the book was was the virgin suicides.
“have you watched the film?” the words spilled from my mouth. “yeah i have actually, great movie too.” he gave me a smile before walking back to his desk.
“the paper i gave you is very important, so keep it close to you, if you lose it i sadly cannot replace so please do me and favour and don’t lose it,” someone raised their hand. “claire was it?” she nodded her head. “why can’t you replace a piece of paper?” she laughed. “something about the usage of paper, listen i have no idea, it’s a policy here,” his eyes quickly scanned to mine. he turned around and broke it. “now t-” he was cut off by the loud door opening. “sorry!” my best friend ivy smiled and rushed to sit beside me. “it’s fine, just don’t be late next time.”
“he’s so fucking fine,” ivy whispered into my ear. i turned and looked at her. i shook my head. “are we looking at the same person up there?” she looked at mr sturniolo. his back was to us. “look at his back,” she wined. “i would eat that up!” she licked her teeth. i rolled my eyes. “he’s like ten years older than us,” i placed my pen between my teeth. “what age are you?” “you look very young for a professor!” ivy spoke out. the whole class erupted into laughter. i face planted my head onto my desk. he cleared his throat. “that’s very inappropriate question to ask….” “ivy!” she spoke. “well ivy that’s a very inappropriate question to ask your professor but i’m 29 and im guessing you all are what 20, 21?” “im not that old.” i finally lifted my head. “good to know thanks!” ivy smiled.
class finally ended. people were packing up their belongings. mr sturniolo made his way towards us.
fuck.fuck.fuck.
he looked at me before looking at ivy. “ivy can i speak to you?” he asked. “sure!” she zipped her bag up. “i’ll leave you guys sorry.” i stood up. “no need,” he fidgeted with his watch strap. i nodded my head. “don’t be late and please don’t make comments or questions like that anymore please ivy?” “i don’t wanna be the asshole teacher, can you do that for me?” i looked down at his hands again.
“sure, sorry.” she gave him a awkward laugh.
“great, see you guys tomorrow!”
it’s been a couple of days. i catch mr sturniolo staring at me every once in awhile, but im in the one who started staring first, so he’s just innocently staring back.
i was the first one in class. i internally sighed and found myself to my seat.
“morning ms y/l/n,” mr sturniolo turned around from the chalk board. “morning mr sturniolo,” i took my books out of my bags. “did you anything nice this weekend?” he asked. “um, went to a party wasn’t that fun though i went home after awhile, i hate going out,” i twisted the ring on my right index finger. “its been awhile since i’ve been to a college party, they usually aren’t that good aren’t they?” he let out a chuckle. “no not really, especially the boys,” i looked down at my lap. “one day they’ll realise they’re idiots don’t worry,” i looked up at him. “let’s hope!” the classroom door opened making us both look at it.
“y/n talk to me please,” my ex friends with benefits/situationship chase walked up to me.
“what the fuck?!” i exclaimed. “why are you coming to my classes chase?” “please, i need you so bad,” he whined. i let out a shocked laugh. “okay buddy that’s enough,” mr sturniolo stood in front of him. “professor please!” “no, out of my class!” “but!” “your harrasing one of my students leave now!” he pointed the door. chase growled and sped out of the room.
the class was now starting to fill up. he leaned down on my desk. “you okay?” his eyes met mine. i nodded my head. “i know it’s none of my business but see me after your classes today okay?” “okay.” i said softly.
i stood beside mr sturniolo’s desk while waiting for him.
the door opened, he hurried in.
“sorry y/n!” that’s the first he called me by my name which made me feel a way i know i shouldn’t have liked.
“it’s okay,” i licked my lips. “anyway i just wanted to ask if you want me to report that guy who came in earlier?” he titled his head while looking at me. i swore i tried to hold in a whimper. i looked down at the ground. “no, it’s okay thank you though,” i gave him smile. “you sure?” i nodded my head.
“yes he’s just some loser he’ll get the message soon.” “ex boyfriend?” he asked.
i wasn’t an expert but i knew he shouldn’t be asking me that, but i didnt mind.
“no……” “something worse you can probably imagine what i’m talking about,” i gave him a straight lined smile. “ah yes i can!” his cheeks quickly heated up. “i’ll see you tomorrow mr sturniolo.” “have a good day!”
i got home and layed down onto my bed, looking up at the ceiling thinking about the day.
especially mr sturniolo. his broad shoulders and his long fingers. i closed my eyes. having a wild imagantion was a blessing in disguise.
i slowly moved my hands down under my jeans, unbuttoning them and discarding them somewhere in my room. i slid my hand under my panties, i was soaking because the thought of him. holy fuck this was so wrong. he was my professor. he was a married man.
i slid my middle finger inside of me. i let a desperate moan.
“look at you,” “your in such a mess underneath me y/n." i picked up the pace, adding a second finger while imagining them words coming from his mouth.
his pretty pink lips eating me up as i grab onto his hair and watch his broad back clench.
it didn’t take me long to clench around my finger and shiver. i took a deep breath, trying to get my breathing back to normal. god i’m fucked up, i needed severe help.
i got to class, it wasn’t empty which i was definitely thankful for.
“morning ms y/l/n,” mr sturniolo spoke. “morning.” i muttered for a response. ivy was already sitting in the seat beside me. she finally didn’t skip.
“i didn’t get a morning,” she frowned. i rolled my eyes and took my seat beside her. “he’s just being nice,” i stated. “yeah sure, he stares at you like your a piece of candy waiting to be eaten,” she looked down at her nails. “what?” my mouth suddenly got dry. “he wants to fuck you bad, i can tell!” the glimmer in her eyes shined. i shrugged my shoulders. “i don’t think so,” “of course you don’t, you think no one wants you when your hot,” “he doesn’t want me.” i tapped my finger off the top of her nose. she smiled at me. “denial, denial, denial.”
i couldn’t concentrate in class after ivy’s comment and the fact that mr sturniolo wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. i shouldn’t care, but i do.
“mr sturniolo!” ivy exclaimed as people started to leave the class. “yes?” he looked at ivy. “ms y/l/n here is having problems with her paper!” ivy shot up. “oh you are y/n?” mr sturniolo asked. “i-” ivy cut me off. “sorry i have to go, my next class is on the other side of campus!” she scurried out.
“what’s the issue with your paper?” mr sturniolo stood behind me looking down at my work. “mr sturniolo-“ “you can call me matt,” he spoke. i nodded my head. “matt,” i cleared my throat. “i know im not a writer, but i feel like i have writers block, i have no idea to write about” “there’s nothing that comes to my mind,” i looked up at him. he was staring down at me. he looked so yummy oh my. “well, you want ideas?” he stood up straight. i nodded my head. “something you fantasise about, could be a dream job, something you wish could happen but you know it can’t, it could be a person,” he licked his dry lips. i gulped. “so you want me to write about something i wish i could have?” “i have to write about a fantasy world, a world i wish i could live in?” i asked. “that could work,” he rubbed his jaw. “okay thank you!” i gave him a small smile. “of course, just email me if you need any help.” he nodded his head. “definitely.”
“i’m jealoussssss!!!!” ivy put her head back and groaned. “you realise you have to fuck him now?” she sat back up and sipped her drink. “how?!” “i’ll just walk up to him after class and ask him to fuck me?” “yes!” ivy yelled. i laughed and shook my head. “listen, i’ll do the dirty work for you,” “which is?” i wondered. “i’ll be nosey in class and ask him does he have any plans for the weekend and if he gives us an answer, boom we show up there!” she smiled. “will this work?” “oh yes.”
“oh i didn’t realise you came here weekly ms sturniolo!” ivy exclaimed. “did you follow me here?” he asked looking me up and down. “no we’re here with some friends you know chase right?” she asked. “yeah i do,” he sipped his drink. “i’ll see you soon mr sturniolo.” ivy ran off as she always does.
“you look nice,” matt spoke. “you too matt,” i gave him a smile. “why are you here alone on a friday night?” i leaned against the bar. “i don’t know either y/n, i probably should be correcting papers but i’d rather be drinking my sorrows away!” he finished his glass. “i get you, i hate correcting papers on a friday night too,” i joked. he laughed. “you wanna go outside for a cigarette?” i asked. “i don’t smoke, but sure.” he grabbed his jacket.
he followed me outside. i put the cigarette between my lips, lighting it and slowly inhaling. i passed him the cigarette. he gladly took it and placed it between his lips. “thought you don’t smoke?” i turned to him. “thought you didn’t like going out?” he raised an eyebrow at me. “fair point,” i took it from his fingers. “your way too mature and way too much of a perfectionist for my class you do realise that don’t you?” matt leaned his head against the wall beside us. i smiled. “totally not true,” “i bet you have an apartment that’s perfect, i bet everything is planned out,” matt smiled. “i wish, my controlling mother told me that i still have to live with her while im in college, she says she wants to keep an eye on me but she just doesn’t want to me to turn into a drunk just like her,” i passed him the cigarette. “your not that type of girl from what can i see for the outside,” smoke exited his mouth. “and what can you see for the outside matt?” i looked up at him. he dropped the cigarette “a smart, smart girl,” his warm hand met my waist. “oh really?” i tried to contain myself. “mhm.” he mumbled while leaning down.
his soft warm lips met mine, it was better than i would imagined. i hungrily kissed him back, my hands wrapping around his neck. he pulled my bottom lip between his teeth making me feel dizzy. “you wanna go somewhere?” he asked. i quickly nodded my head.
we ended up at an hotel.
matt pressed the key card against the reader. the door beeped, matt pushed the door opened.
“sorry it’s a bit messy, i just got here last night,” matt stated. “why are you here?” i let slip out. “i caught my wife cheating on me again,” he sighed before shutting the drapes. “again?” i wondered. “yeah i caught her awhile back, i forgave her but i fell out of love with her a long time ago,” he cleared his throat and placed himself down onto the bed. “im sorry.” i bit my lip. “it’s good, c’mere,” he put his hand out.
i walked over to him and took it. he smiled up at me. his hand met my inner thighs, making me glad that i picked out a mini dress. "no panties?” matt growled. i gulped. he pressed his thumb to my clit. i whined. he looked down at his hand while slipping his fingers inside of me. a small moan came from my mouth. he moved his fingers inside of me. “matt.” i whined as he worked fingers deeper inside of me. he leaned his forehead against my stomach. “i wish you weren’t this wet, i would of loved to work for it.” his voice was deep. my eyes rolled onto the back of my head.
dirty talk never did it for me usually, but i never wanted matt to stop talking.
i grabbed onto matt’s hair. “there it is, it’s right there isn’t it?” he panted. “mhm,” i mumbled as he pounded his fingers into me, hitting my g-spot. “keep going,” “i’m not stopping until you finish all over my fingers baby,” his pace slowed down suddenly, i was confused. he took his fingers out, licked them and put his head between my legs. “lay down, so i really taste you.” i quickly followed his order and layed myself down.
matt laced his fingers up and down my wet my folds. “i bet you taste sweet do you?” his eyes looked dark. “i-i don’t know,” i whined. “taste yourself then,” he put his fingers infront of my mouth. i took his fingers into my mouth and licked them clean. “you do taste so sweet,” he dipped his head low between my legs. his warm tongue met my folds. he came back up. “you want me to ruin you?” i nodded my head. “i need a answer princess,” he took his shirt off. “yes, yes.” i breathed out. “let me eat you up first.”
he was roughly eating me out like he couldn’t get enough of me. my legs were wrapped around his shoulders, his hands were gripping my thighs.
matt made me come with his mouth, which has never happened before especially with a man.
“your so wet and silky,” his tip met my folds. a quiet moan came from my mouth. he pounded into me. his hand was hovering over me grabbing onto the headboard, he was making the whole bed shake. but i had always had a feeling he liked fucking girls rough.
i was dreading class after friday. matt fucked me until the sun came up, god it was a come fest.
me and ivy found our seats, i stayed quiet, he didn’t say hi to me which he does most mornings but he fucked me all night on friday so i guess he’s done with the hi’s now.
“morning everyone,” he rubbed his hands together.
he had his ring on. i looked at ivy who was too busy looking at her nails. “ivy,” i whispered. “yeah?” she looked up at me. “he’s wearing his ring,” i gulped. she didn’t answer but only looked at matt.
“this saturday me and my wife went on a little trip so i haven’t corrected any papers that were handed in yet, but you’ll get them by this friday i promise.” he spoke. me and ivy quickly made eye contact. “wife?” “i thought she cheated?” she whispered. “well apparently he’s back with her, he got back with her the last time.” i sighed.
“what is so interesting girls?” matt interrupted us. “oh nothing, just talking about boys you know how it is mr sturniolo!” ivy winked. he let out a heavy sigh. “alright guys topic for today is on the board,” “ms y/l/n, could i speak to you outside?” i froze. “yeah sure.”
i followed him outside. this is the day i die.
he closed the door after me. “what?” i crossed my arms. “i dont need your attitude,” he snapped. “did your wife cheat on you because you have angry issues or are you guys back together now?” i titled my head. “actually!” “i couldn’t care less,” i smiled. “i wanted to say me and my wife are fine, i love her and friday was a mistake i wasn’t in the right head space when i found her and some guy in our bed,” he sighed. “don’t trauma dump on me, i couldn’t not give a fuck about you and your wife, but if you love her so much did she know you were pounding inside of a 21 year olds pussy on the weekend huh?” “be quiet!” matt whispered. “fuck you.” i opened the door to the classroom.
“ivy let’s go get your bag,” i stated. “what?” she said confused “we’re leaving this assholes class room.” the whole room was staring at this point.
matt walked back in flustered.
“just to let everyone know, this man right here, your teacher, indulges in sex with college girls!” i yelled and left the room. “he also has a tiny dick!” i yelled before the door shut.
“is it actually?” ivy asked. “no it’s huge but i can’t let people know that.”
hi! this ending is kinda silly <3333
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uravitypng · 3 months
Note
i’m so sorry if your not taking requests! i’m a little new and couldn’t find whether they were open or not.
i’ve been reading your bully!Tsukki and have been OBSESSED
i was curious how he might react his darling stayed home for a few days? would he go to their dorm? wait until they come back?
- Anon 🦈
i got sent this a few days ago now and i've been thinking about it constantly. ANON YOUR MIND !!! What a good question and concept, i fuck with it so hard. <333
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where are you? that's all bully tsukishima can think right now. you're late and you know better than to be late when you share classes together. you don't turn up at all. he can't find you around campus.
where are you? the next day you're not there either. he isn't worried, he's annoyed. two days without seeing you is pissing him off and every single day after that when you're staying in your dorm and not coming to classes pisses him off even more. shouldn't you know better by now, if you're hiding from him he'll just make it one hundred times worse. so he waits. seething. because where the fuck are.
the rational part of his brain tells him you're not there for a good reason, you don't skip class, you're good like that but he doesn't care about what reason there is, you're gone and he wants you back in class and around campus.
everything seems like a drag now that you're not there to entertain him. he blocks out conversations and any people talking to him, thinking about you and what he's going to do next time he sees you.
you deserve a punishment for being gone for so long.
kuroo and bokuto are talking to him about something but he's paying no attention whatsoever. instead tsukishima is thinking about how can't wait to have his hands all over you. because you've been gone for so long he's going to pinch, grab, and mark you all over as punishment, maybe even some hickeys too. you're his and he plans to make you remember that. he smirks just imagining the bruises he'll make on your plump body, trying your best to cover them up with clothes or makeup but he'll just add more making you more upset, until you apologise over and over again for staying in your dorm for so long.
when you do feel better and eventually leave your dorm he'll do what he was thinking about this whole time you've been gone. after he'll pick up your bag and put some medicine in there, "don't get ill again crybaby."
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florwons · 9 months
Text
‧₊˚ ⋅ hurt — nishimura riki ‧ ˚₊‧
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synopsis you hated niki. he hated you. despite your ongoing rivalry, your recent arm injury seems to have had an unexpected effect on your so-called enemy. rather than making fun of your injury, he's shown a surprising twist of kindness by wanting to draw on your cast instead.
pairing rival!niki x fem!reader genre fluff, e2ls, hs au !
warnings profanity, injury, just niki and reader being a bickering mess !! typical rival things
featuring danielle newjeans jungwon enhypen wc 2303 !
note first enha work !! first time on blr and i think i’m getting a hang of it.. took too much time figuring out everything though 😵‍💫. i guess this happens when you’re bored (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝) anyhow, i just think niki fits e2ls !! also i think he fits this cute idea i was thinking about so why not combine the two ?? might also create a part 2 to this !!
— wanna read part 2 ? coming soon!
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"Wow, two whole months for it to heal? I’m sure it hurt, didn’t it?" Danielle exclaimed, her expression filled with shock as she glanced from your cast to your face. The two of you were seated next to each other during your first period, giving her a chance to closely examine your injury.
"Yeah," you replied with a touch of sarcasm, a sigh escaping your lips as you gazed at the plain, white cast encasing your arm. "Just the sort of thing that can happen when you take up a part-time job at a convenience store. But, my doctor assured me it's not too serious, so this arm should be back to its usual self soon!" You lightly tapped your arm with your free hand, showing her that you’re completely fine.
"Well, it's still frustrating to have to let it heal for that long," she pouted, receiving a light chuckle from you. Extending your uninjured arm, you gently held her hand, offering her a soft smile. "Don't worry, Danielle. Two months will fly by."
You were truly grateful for a friend like Danielle, who consistently showed concern for your well-being. It made you wonder why your life couldn't be filled with people like her instead of people like him. But no, the universe had different plans and had given you Niki, your classmate, or rather your enemy.
This rivalry with Niki had its roots all the way back to elementary school, and due to both of your stubbornness, it had been brought into your high school years. Poor Danielle found herself caught in this mess, being friends with both of you. You did feel bad for involving her, but the blame fell largely on Niki, who seemed to exist solely to get under your skin.
"Does... you-know-who... know about your injury? You guys walk to and from here together," Danielle hesitated, bringing up him in the conversation cautiously. You shook your head and replied, "No, not as far as I know. I actually left a bit early today—oh no."
Your hand instinctively moved to your forehead, the beginnings of a headache forming from the thought. Danielle let out a small gasp, concern evident in her expression. "What's wrong, YN? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine—wait, no, I'm not!"
"Why? What's the matter?"
"It's Niki! I just remembered that he's probably going to make fun of my injury for the entire two months." You slumped in your chair, already envisioning the scenarios in your mind. "That asshole."
“You actually got me worried!”
"Sorry, but this is something you should be worried about! Niki's constant teasing might be the end of me!"
"YN, you'll handle it. You both argue every day, anyway," Danielle said with a dismissive tone, not fully grasping how serious the issue felt to you. After all, Niki having another reason to mock you during class was far from trivial.
You sighed, realizing that you really wished for your arm to heal as quickly as possible.
In what seemed like no time at all, the second period arrived—a bit faster than usual. You hurried into the classroom, aiming to get into your seat promptly. But there was no use of that if he’s your seatmate! Just why couldn’t it be Danielle? You silently cursed your teacher for arranging the seating this way. More people started filling the classroom, and Niki’s unmistakable blonde hair caught your attention — he was walking your way.
His gaze fixed strangely on your arm as you withdrew it from the desk, letting it hang at your side. You deliberately avoided meeting his eyes, unwilling to deal with his presence at the moment. The scrape of his chair against the floor caught your ear, prompting you to take a deep breath. "Already pissed?" His voice carried a teasing tone, and you could practically feel the smirk in his words, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Aw, you got my routine down already?” You scoffed, placing your notebook on your desk. You were determined to shut out his annoying voice, but of course, life had other plans. "Seems like it. Just call it the Niki effect, I guess."
"Yeah, a real heartwarming effect," you replied monotonously, your attention shifting to the front of the classroom. In the corner of your eye, you could see him take out a notebook as well. You silently hoped he'd simply focus on his work and not pay attention to you, though it seemed he had different intentions.
“What’s up with your arm?” he points at your injured arm with his pencil. Now that made you wish you could snap that pencil in half. Nonetheless, you managed to maintain your composure, or at least tried to, as you responded calmly. "Oh, you know, just your typical arm-breaking experience. Nothing major—just a cozy two-month wait for it to return to normal."
"I didn't need a breakdown of your recovery process, but I suppose thank you for letting me know,” Niki remarked, adjusting his seat position. "Wouldn't expect any less from someone like you."
Holding onto your pencil, the pressure of it snapped its lead, and you clenched your teeth in frustration. "Do you ever know when to just keep your mouth shut?" you retorted, your tone edged with irritation.
"It's one of my finer qualities—maybe you should catch up," he shot back, a hint of amusement evident in his voice.
"Sure thing. Just do me a favor and stay quiet for two months, will you?"
He raised an eyebrow. "And what's in it for me?"
"Me sparing you from my rude remarks—just not like what you're doing right now."
“Can’t make any promises,” He dragged the last word, making you sigh. He smiled slightly, knowing he knew exactly how to piss you off.
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The bell rang, and relief washed over you like a wave. Hastily gathering your belongings, you were so focused on getting out of the classroom that you failed to notice Niki's gaze on you. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you headed toward Danielle. Unknown to you, Niki's attention lingered, a subconscious concern for your well-being flickering in his mind.
"Niki? Niki!" Jungwon tapped him on the shoulder, causing Niki to start slightly. Wait, what was he doing just now? Before he could analyze his actions, Jungwon pulled him from his thoughts. "You seemed out of it for a bit. Are you okay?"
"Huh? Oh yeah, I spaced out for a second. Let's not miss our third period, alright?" Niki hurriedly packed his things, walking alongside Jungwon, his earlier behavior still puzzling him.
Niki's earlier slip-up had him lost in thought, and it continued especially during P.E. class. His eyes were drawn to you, sitting on the bleachers with a bored expression, casually observing the movement of the others. Then, unexpectedly, you excused yourself and headed toward the nurse's office. Niki found himself continuing to watch you, his focus on you more than anything else around.
"Hey, Niki!" A familiar voice brought his attention away from you, just in time to see a ball hurtling his way. He attempted to react, but the ball had already hit his arm. Wincing, he gripped his arm, a small crowd forming around him. Mr. Kim scolded him, and Niki nodded in acknowledgment—it was his fault for not paying attention.
“Take this pass and go get an ice pack,” Mr. Kim said, already finishing up the pass for him. At first, he contemplated declining, but then he remembered that you were in the nurse's office.
This was the fastest he ever grabbed a pass. His movements were swift as he exited the gym and quickly navigated the route to the nurse's office, hoping he could arrive before you left.
He knocked on the door, and a soft voice invited him in. Stepping inside, he found you seated in one of the chairs. Your surprise was evident as you looked at him, his hand resting on his left arm—the same one you had injured. He observed as he grabbed an ice pack before making his way over to where you were sitting.
In the row of chairs, he left a space between you, taking a seat. Your voice broke the silence, teasingly suggesting, "Starting to think you're obsessed with me." Niki couldn't help but scoff lightly as he settled in.
While you weren't exactly off the mark with your comment, admitting such a thing to you was out of the question. He waved off your words with a dismissive tone, "Me? Obsessed with you? Sure, as if."
A quiet pause settled between you both, and subtle glances were exchanged. Breaking the silence, you remarked, "Seems like you're about to join me, huh?"
He looked at you with confusion etched on his face, only to glance down at his arm and yours—both injured in the same spot. Niki couldn't help but chuckle softly, acknowledging that you were right. "Well, not quite as bad as your situation."
"Shut up." Niki's laughter filled the air, and for the first time, you found his laugh endearing—a thought you quickly brushed off. You simply smiled at his boxy grin. Has his smile always been this charming?
Niki realized he had let his guard down, his throat clearing as he subtly corrected himself. He needed to maintain the distance he had always kept between you two—at least for now.
"What are you doing here?" you started to answer, but he interrupted himself, realizing his mistake. "I shouldn't have asked, I mean, look at your arm."
There was the Niki you still had so much hate for. "If I had both arms, I'd strangle you right here."
"But you can't."
"Yeah, thanks for the reminder, idiot—as if I wasn't already aware," you retorted, rising from your seat. He wouldn't be entirely honest if he didn't admit part of him wanted you to leave. It was strange, but he always felt a certain oddness when you weren't nearby. "Can't wait for you to make jokes about my injured arm at every given opportunity."
Your words sparked an idea in him, and as you turned to leave, he was already formulating a plan — his way of getting closer to you than before.
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That's exactly what he did. Every chance he got to be near you, he seized it. His motives remained a mystery – was his plan to push you further away? If so, it was definitely working, as he managed to piss you off with every passing moment. Niki couldn't forget the way you clenched your teeth and let out exasperated sighs whenever he was around. He acknowledged he was being a nuisance, but was there really any other choice?
Could he just flip a switch and suddenly be friendly? That would be too suspicious, wouldn't it? Still, there was an inner push for him to say something decent for once.
And now, here he was, sitting beside you, gazing at your plain cast. Two weeks had already gone by – why hadn't anyone doodled on it yet? He hesitated before gently tapping your arm, causing you to look at him, your expression vacant. You were ready for him to bring up your arm again, almost as if you expected him to repeat his hurtful comments again.
“What? I swear if you make fun of my arm–”
"Can I draw on your cast?" He uttered the words, seemingly without a second thought, catching you completely off guard. Why this sudden change? Could he possibly be planning to write something embarrassing? Then again, your cast did look rather dull, almost too depressing to glance at. But, you still had your doubts.
“What? What if you draw something weird–”
“Come on, I’m not that terrible of a person.”
“Literally who do you think you are–”
“I’m your classmate, loser. Think I can’t be nice for once?” His words left you stunned, and you watched him retrieve a sharpie from his bag. He uncapped it, motioning for your arm to move closer to him. However, you found yourself hesitating, which prompted him to raise an eyebrow ever so slightly. "May I?" he asked.
You didn’t know what went through his head, and yours too! Before you knew it, you were extending your arm to him, watching as he concentrated on writing and drawing on your cast. He held it gently, clearly being cautious not to cause you any discomfort. You were undeniably intrigued by his actions, even though his presence was obstructing your view – not that you cared anyways.
Soon, he finished, closing the lid to his marker. The bell rang, almost as if on cue, causing him to hurry out of the classroom. It was as if the roles swapped, he was now the one rushing out quickly. His abrupt exit left you wondering – why was he so nervous? He didn’t know either, maybe he was suddenly being nice with his rival.
As you finally glanced at your cast, your eyes fell on the words he had written: "Hope you heal quickly, loser." Right beside the message was a small drawing of Shin-chan sticking his tongue out. This time you found yourself breaking into a smile, rather than being irritated.
"So you're telling me I could have been writing about your cast this whole time?" Danielle exclaims, her eyes fixed on the doodles now on your cast. She stops, examining the drawings more closely. "Hold on, isn't that Niki's handwriting?" Without giving you a chance to explain, Danielle is already teasing you mercilessly.
You knew you couldn’t argue back with her. After all, how could you explain the decision to let your rival draw on your cast? You gazed at the doodles once more, finding yourself involuntarily breaking into a small smile. Maybe, just maybe, you'd allow him to draw on your cast again.
Yeah, you were totally out of it.
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skzdarlings · 5 months
Text
vexatious vixen ; felix x reader ; part 1/2
masterlist.
PART 1/2. READ PART 1 HERE. ( READ ON AO3. )
You always get what you want. When an unassuming security guard named Felix stops your latest venture, you escalate the stakes until he has no choice but to put you in your place.
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pairing: lee felix/reader content info: romantic comedy. strangers to enemies to lovers. handcuffs. cat-and-mouse. eventual smut will be kinky dom/sub dynamics, dom!felix and sub!reader. (chapter word count: 7400 words.)
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Seungmin is one of your best friends and also a conniving master of manipulation.  Being a malevolent source of wicked verbal wizardry, he convinced you and Minho that it would be totally super easy to sneak into the Hwang Hyunjin concert.  It’s only the final night of the pop-star’s sold-out world tour and the most anticipated concert of the year.  What could go wrong?  
It sounded like a good idea when Seungmin said it.  Now the three of you are standing in a pushy crowd of overeager fans with some very intimidating looking security guards at the end of the queue. 
“Reconvene,” you say.  You grab the boys by their scruff and drag them out of the line. 
“Ah, hey!” Minho snaps at you like piranha.
You release him to grab Seungmin by his collar.  “You better have an idea for getting us past security,” you say, “because I do not like the look of the Incredible Hulk up there.”
The three of you look at the shortstack beefcake who looks like he could bench all three of you at the same time. 
“Yeaaaah,” Seungmin says.  He flashes you a not-so-innocent smile as his strawberry-pink bangs flop into his eyes.  “I didn’t really think this far ahead.  I thought you’d have a plan.”
“Why would I have a plan?” you ask.  “This whole thing was your idea.  Seungmin.”  You drag him close so your noses touch, going cross-eyed at the proximity.  It does not lessen the severity of your frustration when you state, “I waxed for this.  And you know how I feel about waxing.” 
“You waxed?” Minho asks loudly.  It draws a few glances your way which might be because Minho is so loud, or might be because he’s so good looking, or a combination of the two.  His dark eyes narrow at you like you’re a completely alien creature.   “Why would you wax for a concert?” he asks. 
“Wax,” Seungmin parrots.  Your hands are on his collar like you intend to shake him up but it doesn’t deter him asking, “Like… like wax-wax?  Like your human body waxed?”
“Like your human pussy?” Minho asks.  “For a concert?  What did you think was gonna happen?”  He is on the very visible verge of hysterical laughter when a thought lights his eyes.  “Wait,” he says.  “I know how we can get in—”
“Oh my god,” you say.  You shove Seungmin and grab Minho by the collar instead.  “I’m not fucking our way in.  And I waxed,” you drop your voice, “just in case.”
“Just in case…?” Minho tips his head.  “Just in case you had to fuck your way in…?”
“Oh my god,” you say.  You push him away too.  “Never mind.”
“Did you think Hyunjin was going to summon you out of the crowd for a green room quickie?”  Seungmin asks with a shit-eating grin. 
Minho cackles.  “No way she’d even go,” he says.  “She doesn’t get summoned.  She likes to be chased.” 
“She is walking away now,” you say.    
“Bet she’ll walk away quickly,” Seungmin says.  “She waxed so she’ll be aerodynamic.”
You stomp away from the stadium but only make it a few steps before Seungmin runs in front of you. 
“We can’t just give up here,” Seungmin says.  “We made it this far already.”
“One bus stop?” you ask dryly.  “We literally live like five minutes away—”
“Exactly!” Seungmin says.  “That’s called destiny.”
“We might as well try,” Minho says.  He cups a hand over his eyes to look at the stadium in the fading light of the sun.  “We all got dressed up.  Seungmin skipped a class.  You waxed.” 
“There’s no way we’re getting through those doors,” you say. 
“We’ve done it before,” Seungmin says.  He turns you to face the stadium and massages your shoulders like a boxing coach, all the while regaling you with tales of your past victories.  “Remember all the other concerts we snuck into?  The sports games?  That celebrity wedding—”   
“Well,” Minho interrupts, “we did get arrested at that one.” 
“Yeah and we got arrested together,” Seungmin says, “because that’s what friends do.” 
“I don’t know why,” you say, “but for some reason this is working.”  Maybe it’s Seungmin’s words, or Minho’s cologne, or maybe it’s the soft glow of a perfect summer sunset as it pours over the stadium like a pink-orange waterfall.  Or maybe it’s because this really is the concert of the year, and you love a challenge, and you fucking waxed. 
You throw your head back and sigh, soulfully resigning yourself to your imminent fate.
“Fine,” you say.  “So how are we doing this?”   
“Don’t worry,” Seungmin says thoughtfully.  “I think I have a plan.”
Seungmin proceeds to explain the plan.  It is hardly the pinnacle of heist endeavours but is more feasible than rappelling down the stadium walls into the concert arena.
Basically, the plan is to find a group of people with a solitary ticket holder and leech onto their tail with the hopes security will miscount the party and let you sneak past.  It means you will have to split up because security will definitely notice three extra people.  You will then hopefully reunite inside the arena.
You scamper around the periphery of the stadium, perusing lines for oblivious groups of excited fans with an e-ticket-wielding ringleader.  You also double-check which security guards seem the most lax or checked out. 
“I get that one,” Minho says. 
He points to a trim, athletic guard with floppy brown hair and a giggly smile.  You and Seungmin protest because that guard is an easy mark so you all want him, but Minho takes off running for the queue. 
The thing about Lee Minho is that he never hauls ass.  He coasts through life with a casual slouch, but he is completely capable of annihilating everyone if he deigns to do so. 
He does.  So he did.
You and Seungmin look around.  Your grin widens when you spy the next easiest target.
“Aha!” you say.  “I call dibs on that one!  Good luck, Seungmin!”
“Hey!” Seungmin bellows.
He is far too late.  You are already booking it towards the line with a pretty, chipper, skinny security guard.  He is in jeans and a loose windbreaker that says SECURITY across the back, about the only indication he is a man of any authority.  His hair is a vibrant, neon blue and is delicately styled, long enough to pull back in a pretty half-ponytail.  His features are sharp, cheekbones sloping, but there is a natural tenderness to his whole countenance.  He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. 
Also, he really is lean.  Worst case scenario, you can probably push your way past him and disappear into the crowd before he can do anything about it.  
You find a group of girls to sidle alongside anyway.  You are satisfied you will easily slip into the stadium. 
The group reaches the front of the line, a couple of them giggling at the security guard’s friendly attention.  His name tag reads Felix, a cute name for a cute guy.  Up close, you can see a smattering of dark freckles across his face, as well as a few playful glitter stars for the concert.  He is admittedly pretty but as a professional gate crasher, you refrain from distraction.  You successfully avoid his gaze and stick close to the girl in front of you. 
Felix gives them each a friendly nod, smiling brightly.  He laughs at one of their comments and it’s a charming, low sound. 
“Enjoy the show, ladies,” he says, his voice about a hundred decibels deeper than you expected.  
Maybe that’s what trips you up.  It has to be something, because you were doing everything right.  But just as you go to follow the girls into the arena, a skinny arm shoots out and you smack right into it.   
“Sorry,” Felix says.  He drops his arm and smiles.  “I just need to see your ticket.” 
“My…?”  You look ahead at the group of girls, but they are already gone.  Oops.  “Ha, ha,” you say, looking at Felix. 
He is staring back at you, still smiling a close-lipped smile.  He blinks a couple times then lifts an eyebrow.
“Uh, ticket?” he says.  He holds out his hand.  
“Right,” you say.  You smile at him with all the saccharine sweetness you can.  “I have funny story about that, Felix,” you say. 
“Hm.”  His smile turns into a line, eyes narrowing as he looks at you.  “And what’s that?” 
“Well, you see…”
It’s all you say before you bolt, fast on your feet.  You sprint for the entryway behind the guarded queue.  There’s a crowd inside and you’re an expert at disappearing into a crowd.  You just need to get in there and find your boys then you are home free.  Hwang Hyunjin, here you come. 
There’s just one problem.  
Felix is fast.  
Like, track star fast.  Like, road runner fast.  Like, you’re that dumb coyote getting an anvil dropped on your head, except this anvil is a skinny blue-haired Australian with a voice like a god and the apparent hidden strength of one too. 
You make it a few desperate steps before Felix literally sweeps you off your feet.  You shriek when he hauls you under his arm, dragging you away from the stadium door.  He deposits you a few feet from the queue then swiftly resumes his position. 
“Hello,” he says to the next person in line.  “Sorry about that.  Ticket?”   
Your mouth is agape.  
No one has ever got the jump on you like that.
“Hey!” you say, but Felix has moved on.  He is smiling at the next guest as he checks their ticket, not paying you any mind.  “Excuse me,” you say, despite the people between you and him.  “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.  I do have a ticket.”
“Uh-huh,” Felix says.  He doesn’t look at you, scanning someone’s e-ticket with a little device.  It lights up green and he smiles at them.  “Enjoy the show,” he says. 
You jump into the queue, cutting off the next person.  Felix’s smile vanishes and is replaced with an astoundingly sassy expression.
“Uh, this line is for ticket-holders,” he says. 
“I have a ticket,” you say.  You unzip your purse and spend a minute rifling around, ignoring him when he sighs.  He apologizes to the people behind you.  You turn and offer a tight-lipped apology of your own.  “I was in line,” you say, as if they didn’t just witness this ten-pound bully haul you around like a sack of potatoes.  “There was just a misunderstanding.”
Felix rolls his eyes. 
You pull out your cell phone and flip through a folder of fake screenshotted tickets, hoping at least one of them marginally resembles the tickets for tonight.  You pick one and flash it at Felix. 
“Happy?” you say with a lot of false indignation.  You turn off the screen when Felix goes to grab your phone.  You give him a snooty, squinty-eyed look, then saunter right past him. 
This time when he comes after you, you are better prepared for his speed.   You zig-zag and he stumbles, cussing very unprofessionally.  You make it all the way to the door before he grabs you.  You have no idea where he is getting all that muscle because he feels like a sturdy stick when you grab at him, but he puts you over his shoulder like it’s easy. 
“Um, excuse me!” you shout.�� “Hello!  Someone film this!  I’m being assailed!”
Felix intentionally jostles you on his shoulder.  He is even less gentle when he drops you this time, though you do manage to keep your footing. 
“Try that again,” Felix says, “and it will be trouble.  Got it?” 
Felix is very good looking.  He’s an incredible combination of pretty and handsome, not to mention that voice, guh.  But what gets you going is how much you are clearly pissing him off.  It’s hot.  Out of nowhere, the freckled sunshine sweetheart is just oozing confidence, standing square and pointing at you with a very stern expression.  And if you get a little hiccup in your blood, a little skip in your heartbeat, a little stampede southward that makes your pussy hum like the interested kitten it is, well.  That’s not your fault.  It’s his.  Asshole.
You flip him off.  He ignores you, shaking his head as he returns to his position.
“Sorry,” he says to the queue.  “Some people are so inconsiderate, aren’t they?”
Ugh. What a sexy bitch. 
You text to check in with the boys.  Minho made it inside, no surprise, but apparently Seungmin is also struggling for an in. 
what is with these security guards, Seungmin writes, are they military trained? fuck 
maybe you’re both just losing your touch, Minho replies.
never, you say.  we still have lots of time.  we'll get in there.  seungmin, meet me by the benches.  we need another plan.  
Usually, the best way to crash an event is with minimal attention and no theatrics.  It’s all about pretending you are exactly where you are supposed to be.  If you act like you belong, then you will.  
A spectacle is a desperate measure, but you are desperate people.  After a few hushed whispers on a bench, you and Seungmin spring into action. 
“Help!”  Seungmin shouts.  “My wife needs help!  Please!” 
“Your wife?” you whisper through gritted teeth, opening one eye to look at him.  You are currently laying on the pavement in a dramatic swoon, Seungmin hunched over you. 
“My companion of ambiguous relationship is hurt!” he says.  “Ouch,” he adds, because you swat his arm.
Fortunately, he does draw attention.  A few people run over, the beefy security guard one of them.  His nametag reads Changbin and he is in a black t-shirt at least two sizes too small.  You do not begrudge him this, as you would do the same if you had biceps like that.  
“What happened?” he asks, crouching down beside Seungmin. 
“My friend just passed out,” Seungmin says.  He hoists you into his arms as your tongue lolls out of your mouth.  “Is there somewhere inside I can take her to sit down?  I think all the chaos out here overstimulated her.” 
“One second,” Changbin says.  He pulls a walkie-talkie out of a holster.  It buzzes with static as he turns it on.  “Hey, we have a collapsed woman in front of Entry Door B.  Can I have back-up clear a path, and someone with First Aid training?”  The walkie-talkie buzzes again and Changbin puts it away.  He stands up, waving away the small crowd that has gathered.   “Yah, everyone back up!  This is an emergency!” 
“It’s really not,” Seungmin says.  He scoops you into a bridal hold then struggles to lift you off the ground. “I just need – whew – somewhere I can – agh – put her down.  I can just – AH! – carry her myself.”
Naturally, it is at that moment a familiar voice descends from above. 
A familiar, deep, Australian-accented voice.
“Move aside, please.”  
“Oh no,” you say, eyes closed.   You open them just in time for a glitter-faced, freckled, blue-haired pretty boy in a SECURITY windbreaker to cut through the crowd.   
Unfortunately, Felix is just as good looking at this angle.  He waves away the gathered onlookers as he approaches, but looks at Changbin first. 
“I have First Aid,” he says.  “What happened?”
“I just found her collapsed,” Changbin says.  “Her friend thinks it’s the crowd.  Should we bring her inside?” 
Felix looks at you.  The concerned furrow in his brow immediately gives way. 
You smile innocently. 
“No,” Felix says, frowning.  “We shouldn’t.” 
“Oh come on,” you say.  You smack the ground.  “I collapsed!  I need help!”
“No, you need a ticket,” Felix says.  He crosses his arms and stomps a foot.  “Seriously, what is wrong with you?  Some of us have a job to do, you know?”
“Naaaur ya need a ticket, mate,” you say in a mockingly deep chest voice. “Some of us have jobs ya knaaaaur!”
“Do you guys know each other?” Changbin asks, looking between you and Felix – who is growing increasingly red in the face and breathing much harder. 
“I have no idea who this guy is,” Seungmin says. 
“Ah!”  Felix yells, spinning to Changbin.  “She doesn’t have a ticket!  She’s just trying to sneak in!”
“She doesn’t have a ticket?”  Seungmin asks, gasping.  He drops you onto the concrete, ignoring your yelp of pain.   “But I thought she – she told me we – I – I –“
You watch in betrayed horror as Seungmin pretends to faint, flopping down beside you on the concrete.  You sit up, very tempted to slap him across the face but not wanting to give Felix more reasons to accost you. 
“Seungmin,” you say.  You grab him by the shirt and rattle him around like a ragdoll.  “Seungmin, you bastard, don’t even think about it!”
“You.”  Felix stomps up behind you.  “Get off the ground and come with me.” 
“No,” you say.  “I don’t want to and you can’t make me.” 
You shriek – again – when Felix grabs you under the arms and hoists you to your feet.  He manhandles you with only a modicum of effort, dragging you away from your stupid traitorous best friend. 
You step on Felix’s foot deliberately and he swears.  For such a pretty thing, he sure has a filthy mouth.  You grab a fistful of his hair and tug, to which he cusses up a storm and pries your hand off his head.   
You hear the distinct buzz of Changbin’s walkie-talkie.    
“We have a collapsed man in front of Entry Door B.  Can someone who isn’t going to start fighting the patrons come help me move him?”
“He’s faking it!” you cry in protest, watching Changbin scoop Seungmin off the ground. 
Changbin disregards your outburst.  Seungmin gives you a thumbs up behind his back.  Felix, of course, doesn’t see it because he’s too busy dragging you away.  You are left to sputter in bewildered protest at the injustice of it all. 
Felix marches you to the sidewalk, far away from the stadium queues.  You are both out of breath by the time you get there.  Even so, you attempt to manoeuvre under his arm to run away.   In a few quick moves, he knocks you onto your ass. 
 “Holy fuck!”  You are panting now.  A line of sweat dots your hairline.  You wipe at it and stare morosely at this stupidly competent minimum wage security guard.  “What are you, like some kind of karate master or something?”
“Taekwondo, actually,” he says, brushing off his jacket.  Then he tips his head and stares down at you.
You would be lying if you said the intensity of his stare didn’t have your heart racing for an entirely new reason.  Danger and desire have always danced a close dance for your tastes.  Felix is not helping matters, tucking back loose strands of vibrant hair as he looms over you, wetting his bottom lip and staring. 
You cross your arms and feign nonchalance, but you can’t look away from him.  When he crouches down slowly to meet you at eye level, everything below the belt goes pitter-patter. 
“No ticket,” Felix says slowly.  “No concert.  Do you understand me?” 
You stick out your tongue.
“Wow, mature,” he says.  His departing farewell is another snarky eyeroll.  He shakes his head as he stands, muttering to himself in obvious frustration. 
So much for not a mean bone in his body.  That bully is all business.   
So hot. 
You huff and puff for a bit.  Your phone is going berserk in your purse, probably the boys trying to reach you.  Eventually you succumb to the necessary confession of your twice thwarted efforts.  Minho teases that you are losing your touch for real.  It makes angry little fireworks pop out of your ears.  
Plenty of occasions you have assessed a situation and deemed it unreasonably complicated, but quitting while you’re ahead is not the same thing as admitting defeat.  You do not lose.  This isn’t even about the concert anymore.  Fuck Hwang Hyunjin, he was never worth the pain of a wax in the first place.  No.  This is about your pride.   This is about your dignity.  This is about your honour. 
You are getting into that concert, one way or another.   
First, you gather intel.  This comes in the form of snooping, running between queues to figure out the easiest mark.  You don’t judge the guards by their appearances this time, because apparently this security team has secret taekwondo masters hidden in their midst. 
You watch their every move, calculating and determining your odds therein.  Based on visual research and Minho’s confirmation, it seems your best bet is the smiling guard who let Minho through.  His nametag reads Jisung and he is a veritable flirt. 
Flash him your tits, Minho texts.
Uh, no, I’m not that desperate yet.       
Second, with your intel now acquired, you get into the dwindling line.  The sun is almost set and a breezy summer chill dances across your cheeks.  The concert will be starting soon.  You shuffle behind the other stragglers, adjusting your outfit.  The jean shorts hug your hips and flash a nice chunk of thigh, and your shirt is already low cut but you figure another tug won’t hurt.  You also pull your flannel down your arms to look as flirtatious as possible. 
Jisung is barely looking at the tickets as he scans them, chatting merrily to the guests as he lets them through.  You pull up a random ticket on your phone, something to hold out while you distract him. 
“Hi,” you say. 
His eyes flick down to your chest, then back up.  He smiles brightly.
“Hi!” he says.  “You look nice.  Excited for the concert?”
“Oh, absolutely,” you say.  “You have no idea how much I’ve been waiting for this.  It wasn’t easy to get in.”
“I know what you mean,” he says.  “Tickets are hard to come by, and so expensive!”
“Ugh, tell me about it,” you say, leaning in while he scans your phone.   This was a bad idea because he looks down at your chest again, just in time for his little device to flash red.
“Oh, oops!” he says.  He smiles at you as he shakes his device.  “Sorry!” he says.  “I think you showed me the wrong ticket.  Could you pull up the right one?”
“Ohhh!” you say, looking down at your phone with fake surprise.  Life is so unfair.  “I’m so sorry… Jisung.  Hehe, that’s such a nice name.”
“Haha, thanks,” Jisung says.  “My parents picked it, but, yeah, it’s cool.  Anyway.”  He wiggles his device.  “Ticket please!” 
You keep smiling and giggling, even as you turn around under the guise of searching through your phone.  You glare down at the stupid device, keeping your back to Jisung while you do so.  How the fuck are you getting out of this?  You flip through screenshots then open your text messenger.  Minho’s last words of wisdom blink up at you. 
Apparently, you are that desperate. 
With a sigh, you put your phone in your purse and zip it shut.  You shrug your shoulders and plaster that fake smile on your face again.  With a swift of flick of your thumbs, you lift your shirt and bra up over your tits and spin around to look at Jisung. 
“How’s this for a ticket—”
Jisung looks surprised and delighted.  Jisung, however, is standing a few feet back.  Probably because he was told to step back.  Probably by Felix who is standing in front of you with his arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face.  
“Wow,” Felix says.  “Just committing crimes now, are we?”  
You shove your tits back into your bra indignity, not even embarrassed, just annoyed. 
“Tits aren’t a crime,” you say. 
“Public indecency is,” he replies.  
“You’re… publicly indecent…”  Not your best comeback.  You glare at him while fixing your shirt.  “There’s no way they pay you enough to be riding my ass this hard.” 
“They don’t,” Felix says, grabbing your arm.  “Believe me when I say riding your ass has been my pleasure.”
“Twisted fuck,” you reply. 
You wave at Jisung as Felix tugs you away.  He waves back but does nothing to rescue you, because all men are traitors. 
You groan loudly as Felix leads you away from the stadium yet again.  “Just let me innnnn,” you whine.  “Why do you hate meee.”
“I don’t even know you!” Felix says.  He deposits you on a bench and takes out his phone.
“What are you doing?” you ask, eying the device.
“What do you think I’m doing?” he asks.  “You tried to break into a ticketed event three times.  You faked an injury.  You flashed yourself in a public place—”
“I wouldn’t have done any of that if you just let me through in the first place!”
“You cannot be serious.”  Felix looks ready to rip his hair out.  “You don’t have a ticket!  Why would I let you in, why would I – AH!  Why am I arguing with you!  Be quiet, I’m phoning the police.”
“The po— the police?!  How dare you!” You try to stand but he pushes you onto the bench one-handed.  He holds you there, palm on your shoulder, still way stronger than someone this scrawny should be. 
“Fine!” you exclaim.  “Fine!  You win!  I’m sorry, Felix, I was wrong.  I was wrong and you were right.”
Felix pauses.  “Really,” he says, sounding unconvinced. 
“Yes!”  You look up at him with the saddest, most watery eyes you can muster.  “I just wanted to see the concert but it was stupid to think I could break in.” 
He turns off his screen.  Success.   You watch him slip his phone in his pocket. 
“It’s not about being smart or stupid,” he says, the ire gone from his voice.  It takes a lot of willpower not to bite his fingers when he pats your shoulder.  “It’s about the fact we can’t always get what we want,” he says kindly as he crouches in front of you.  His hand goes from your shoulder to your knee, still patting it in a friendly manner. 
You bite your tongue because you want to tell him you liked him better when he was being a mean bitch, but that would be counterproductive to your escape attempt. 
It turns out, you don’t need to say anything, because he decides to be a bitch again anyway.  Felix looks at you with a too-sweet smile and says, “It’s about time someone taught you that lesson.”
“Um, excuse me?” you say, aghast.  You clasp your hand over your heart.  “Just who do you think you are?  First of all, you taught me nothing, I’m still a horrible bitch and I lied when I said you were right.  Second, you absolutely can get everything you want, you just have to want it enough to get it.  But you wouldn’t know anything about that.  You know why, Felix?” 
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head like he expected this, which he probably did, but you’re too far gone to retreat. 
You reach out and cup his face in both hands, turning it to you.  Those sharp eyes are unflinching, even with your fingers on his face.  You try really hard not to gulp. 
“It’s because you are a good boy,” you say.  “You always do what you’re told.  You always follow the rules.  I bet everyone thinks you’re the nicest guy on the team, don’t they?  I bet they call you cute little nicknames and all the nice little girls think you’re a sweet, innocent baby.  And you are, aren’t you, Felix?  You’re just such a good, good boy.  But me?  I’m not good.  I’m not bad.  I just like to win.  When I want something, I get it, because I chase it, and I don’t stop until I get it.  Until it’s all mine.”  You lean in close.  “Get it?” 
His gaze darkens, brows pinching.  You take his fleeting moment of vulnerability to shove him onto his back.  He sprawls on the ground with a surprised yelp.  You sprint away at top speed and flip him off over your shoulder. 
It’s a haphazard ploy at best but you are fresh out of plans.  What you need is distance between you and Security Guard of the Year, a breather long enough to come up with a final plan.  Maybe you can physically break in somewhere: an office window, a janitorial stairwell, something.  
You keep an eye out for potential openings as you run. 
And run.
And run. 
Hmm.  You’ve been running a long time.   Even with the head-start, Felix should have caught you by now.  You doubt he would have truly given up.  Felix had a deranged look in his eye, similar to the one you get when someone is trying to beat you at your own game.  He doesn’t want you to win anymore than you want to lose.  You suspect it isn’t about the concert for him either; this is a personal battle. 
You come to a gradual stop, hands on your hips as you catch your breath.  It’s quiet on this side of the stadium as the queues were on the opposite end. 
Quiet, yes.  Too quiet.   
There’s a stairwell that leads to second level just above your head.  Felix is good.  You have to give credit where credit is due.  If you weren’t a scheming nightmare with a penchant for con-artistry, he probably would have caught you.  But without turning around, you know he booked it up the stairs and is two seconds from springing an attack. 
You take off running, just in time for him to thump into the grass beside you.  You laugh at his strangled cry of frustration as he scrambles to his feet. 
Around the next corner is the parking lot.  You stop a split second to look over your shoulder and see him hot on your heels.   He discarded his jacket and is in a loose sleeveless shirt, revealing he does have some light toning to his lean body.  But you don’t stop to measure how proportionate it is to his strength, because he is focussed on you like a laser. 
Then he smiles.  A slow, slinky smile like a cocky predator about to swipe at its prey.  That cat has claws, nasty ones, and you almost want to get tangled in them.  Almost.  You want to win even more.   
And he just set you up for success.  There’s a SECURITY jacket on the ground somewhere nearby.  That’s your ticket in.  You just have to lose Felix in the parking lot and loop back around to find where he tossed it. 
You spare no time setting that plan into action, giving Felix a smile of your own before you run.  He thunders after you.
The pair of you weave in and out of parked cars.  He disappears for a second behind a row of trucks.  You whip your head around to figure out where he went, only for him to summersault around the corner and cut you off.  You yell instinctively but narrowly dodge his reaching hand.   He curses, running after you with his arm outstretched.   You duck behind a trailer and lose him, scurrying between some SUVs.  You peek at him through the windows, watching him turn in a circle to find where you went.  Smiling to yourself, you quietly but quickly back away.  
You leave the lot and run back the way you first came.  You find Felix’s jacket draped on a random bush. 
Your heart is practically singing with adrenaline.  Victory is in sight.  You push yourself to run faster and reach out with both hands –
— only to find yourself rolling in the grass, Felix’s arms tight around your middle as he tackles you to the ground. 
You push and pull at each other, cursing and scrambling very ungracefully.  You get out of his arms but he climbs on top of you, then you knee him in the gut so he rolls over, but when you start crawling he grabs your ankles and drags you back. 
Ultimately, he Taekwondo Masters you onto your front, hands clasped behind your back.  You kick your feet and wail despondently into the grass as he kneels over you, breathing raggedly and swearing again. 
“You’re a monster!” you shout.  “You’re a tyrant and a bully and you have no right to – HEY!”
He handcuffs you.
“Ha.”  He leans in close, speaking right into your ear.  “I win.” 
“That’s not fair,” you say.  “You can’t just—ahh!”  You wail in petulance as he lifts you onto your feet.  His grip on your bicep is unyielding so you are forced to stomp alongside him as he escorts you…
…back to the sidewalk.
“You’re not busting me?” you ask in confusion.  You thought for sure he was going to drag you into some shady office and plop you in a chair until the police arrived.   He would probably be super boring and professional about it, staring at you with his dumb horny eyes but not doing anything about it.  Nothing sucks more than being all trussed up by a pretty boy with manners. 
“I just want you to go and never come back,” Felix says. 
“Fine.”  You turn around and hold your arms straight behind you.  “But I’m like a wolf, Felix.  I have your scent for life.”
“Yeah, sure,” he says.  “Not how wolves work by the way.  But fine.”
“Oh wow, sorry.  Didn’t realize you majored in Wolfology.  You got any other fun facts?”  
“You are so—”
You smirk at his grumbling.  You are just biding your time until he uncuffs one wrist, then you whip around faster than he can compute the action.  With one cuff still attached, you grab the second and clamp it down on his wrist.  He sputters in bewilderment, at which point you snatch the keys.
“What are you doing—”  He tries to grab them but your joined hands make the angle too awkward.  You spin around together in a few circles, bonk heads twice, until finally you reel back and chuck the keys as far into the distance as possible. 
He stands there, mouth agape.  You tap your foot impatiently. 
When he realizes what has happened – that you have handcuffed yourself to him and thrown away the keys – he looks at you with fiery eyes, fierce enough you stumble.  He yanks your joined hands, the chain ungiving.  You watch as he goes through several stages of grief in a matter of moments.  Then he closes his eyes and breathes in and out.    
“Why,” he says slowly, “did you just do that?” 
“I dunno, Felix,” you say.  You plop down on the ground and sit cross-legged.  It forces him to bend over, your cuffed wrist dragging him down.  “Guess we’ll have to go inside and get some back-up keys.  And when I’m in the stadium and you uncuff yourself from me, I promise not to run away.”   
“That’s your plan?” he snaps.  “That’s your plan?” 
“What, is there an echo out here?”
“That’s your plan?” he asks again, his deep voice pitching up an octave.  He crouches down and shoves his free hand into his hair, shaking his head.  “This can’t be happening,” Felix says, more out loud to himself than you.  “Why is this happening.  Oh my god.” 
You squeak when he tugs on the chain, yanking you close, nose to nose.
“What if I just called for back-up?” he asks. “Or skipped that and went right to the police?  How would you get out of that?”
“Wait,” you say.  “Why aren’t you doing that?” 
“Because.”
He leans back as far as he can, sitting on his heels.  You duck your head, trying to meet his eye to no avail.  He clenches his jaw.
“Felix,” you say.  “Why aren’t you just calling for back-up?”
“Because,” he says through gritted teeth.  “The handcuffs.  Are.  Not.  Regulation.” 
You look at each other.  There is a long moment of silence. 
Then, “What!”  You cackle with complete and utter abandon. 
A very unamused Felix glares at you while you throw your head back and laugh. 
“You?” you cry, poking your finger against his chest.  “You?  You?  You are just walking around with a pair of handcuffs that you aren’t supposed to have?  What the fuuuuuck—”  You think you might die laughing. 
“Jisung gave them to me before our shift!” he exclaims.  “It was a joke because— Never mind! I don’t have to explain myself to you!  Hello.  Hello.”  He grabs your chin with his free hand and turns your face roughly to his.   He jingles your joined hands.  “Not regulation,” he says.  “There are no other keys in this building.” 
Silence falls again. 
Then, “Oh.”  You stare at him.  “Shit.” 
A minute later, you and Felix are scuttling around trying to find the key.  You must have a very good arm because it landed near the stadium and disappeared in some bushes.   
You and Felix keep forgetting your wrists are connected, reaching in opposite directions only to snap back together.  You are certain you are going to end the night with a few bumps and bruises. 
The entire time you are searching for the key, Felix is grumbling irritably.  He tears his way through a bush, his deep voice pitching up with a miserable whine when he can’t find it. 
“This is so stupid,” he says.  He throws a stick at the wall.  “I am a good worker.  I never break the rules.  I am not getting in trouble for this. You did this.  You did this to me.” 
On he goes, grumble, grumble, grumble, bitch, bitch, bitch. 
“It’s not like the key disappeared,” you say, pushing some pebbles around.  “It has to be here somewhere.” 
It is starting to get dark, the sky a deep purple.  The stadium lights blare down on you.  Felix uses his phone flashlight to beam extra light at the ground.  The only time he stops grumbling is when the noise in the stadium changes, the concert clearly beginning.  He takes time out of his busy searching schedule to give you a mean smile. 
“When we find those keys,” you say, “I’m handcuffing you to that railing over there and leaving you to freeze to death in your stupid tank top.”
“It’s not a tank top,” he says.  “It’s a t-shirt.  I cut the sleeves off.  And when we find those keys, I’m handcuffing you to that railing over there and phoning the police.”
“Well then,” you say, “may the best key finder in a slutty tank top win.” 
“It’s not a tank top.”   
You continue to search.  It is utterly illogical that the keys would just vanish but the longer it takes, the more concerned you get.   It just doesn’t make sense!  Things don’t just disappear!  The keys landed somewhere over here, so they have to be…
You see it first.  You sit there in a stunned stupor.  You swat at Felix with your cuffed hand.
“What?” he says without looking at you.  You continue to slap him until he forces your hand down, tangling your fingers with his.  “What!” 
You point.  He crowds in behind you to look over your shoulder.  You feel him exhale. 
“Please don’t tell me…”   
You both lean to look down the sewer drain.  He flashes his phone light over it.  Something silver glints back in the darkness. 
“Fuck!” Felix says.  He doesn’t stop there.  What follows is a string of cusses so unbelievably foul and complex that you honestly believe it should quality him for Pulitzer in poetry.  When he has exhausted every expletive in several different languages, he plops down on his ass and stares up at the sky with mute despondency.   
“So what happens now?” you ask.  “Do we fuck?”
“What?”  He looks at you with utter bewilderment.  “What the fuck?  Why would you suggest that?  What would that solve?”
“Nothing,” you say.  “But it would kill the time and couldn’t make things worse.” 
“You are insane,” he says.  “I am handcuffed to an insane person.” 
“Hey, ‘mate’, you were the one with the non-regulation handcuffs in the first place.  I could solve this problem real quick by phoning the authorities myself and saying some crazy guy put me in cuffs.” 
“I dare you,” he says.  “Try.”
“No,” you say.  And not just because you have a record with the police and they would never take your side.  But Felix doesn’t need to know that.  Well, you suspect Felix is smart enough to guess it, but he doesn’t need the confirmation.  “I’d rather make you suffer,” you say instead.  You sit back in an insouciant slouch like the whole circumstance is beneath your attention.  “Figure it out, pretty boy.” 
“Well,” he says, “apparently if you break your wrists then you can force them through the cuffs.”
“Ew!” You push him in the middle of his chest.  He doesn’t fall, but he does glare at you.  “We’re not doing that!  What a stupid plan!  You’ve been guzzling the hair dye fumes, buddy.  Think of a plan that doesn’t involve injury, thank you.” 
“I didn’t want to do this,” Felix says with another put-upon sigh, “but fine.  I have another pair at home so the keys—”
“Wait,” you interrupt.  “I thought someone gave you the cuffs today?  Why do you have another key at home?”
“I have another pair,” he repeats, “of the same handcuffs.”
“You—”
“Already own a pair, yes, move on.”  He aggressively pushes hair out of his eyes.  “He clearly bought it from the same place so my key should work for this one too.”
“So despite your uppity school boy routine, you do own non-regulation handcuffs and not just as a joke.  Wow, Felix.”  You giggle helplessly.  “Be careful or I might start to like you.” 
He is glaring at you, no surprise, but the tips of his ears blush pink. 
“Let’s just go,” Felix says.  “The sooner I get you off, the sooner I can forget about your existence.”
“You can get me off as fast or slow as you like—ahh!” 
Once more, the secret superman is manhandling you onto your feet.  Without pausing for breath, he turns and marches away.  You are forced to stumble behind his swift strides, your hands swinging close enough that your fingertips brush every so often.   
“How do I know you’re not gonna murder me?” you ask.
“You don’t,” he replies.
“How do you know I’m not gonna murder you?” 
“I don’t.”  He sounds more annoyed than afraid.  “But it sounds better than being cuffed to you forever.  I’ll take my chances.  Come on.” 
“Not like I have a choice,” you grumble. 
He comes to an abrupt halt and you crash into him with a sharp exhale.  He grabs your hand and tugs you close. You blink at him with surprise while he tips his head in that studious way.
“You’re right,” he says. “You don’t.  In fact, it’s almost nice, you forced to finally do what I’m asking.  If you’re not careful, it might even make me like you.” 
It is so cold and sarcastic. 
It gets you so hot. 
Seriously, what is with your stupid brain?  How does it cross the wires of fear and desire like that?  Felix is speaking at you with that deep, dark, nasty voice of his and your heart should be skipping beats in concern, not because you think he’s sexy when he’s being a bitch.  
You hide it from him well enough, glaring at him like he glared at you.  He just snorts and shakes his head. 
“What?” you ask. 
“Interesting,” he replies.  “Very interesting.”   
“What?”
“Nothing.”  He smiles politely, for a moment looking like the unassuming pretty boy you thought he was.  He bats his long eyelashes at you, smiles a coy smile, and squeezes your hand.   “Come on,” he says.  “We tried this your way and it got us in trouble.  Time to be a good girl and do it my way.  No, stop, don’t say anything.  Be quiet.  Just walk.  Let’s go.” 
You stumble when he tugs you after him.  Your mouth is hanging open yet again.   
You are proud to say that in your many years of bad girl shenanigans, you have never truly met your match.  You’ve played pretend a few times, let a couple losers think they won, if only because you liked the game of it.  But no one has ever really taken control.  No one has ever really beat you.  No one has ever come close. 
No one.  Until today. 
You glare at the back of Felix’s head, brain stampeding as fast as your heart.   Because finally, you’ve found him, your perfect match.  Lashed to you through the metal manifestation of fate’s red string. 
You didn’t know what game you were playing before, but now you do.
And you’re going to win.  
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chosopie · 2 months
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SHE’S EVIL - CHOSO KAMO
cw: mentions of gore, smut, bdsm, sub choso
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Choso was absolutely obsessed with you. Every single night, he would watch true crime to stay updated with your latest murders. No one knows what you looked like, but the thought and idea of you turned him so much. A dangerous woman with enough power and skill to shake the whole country and bring it to shambles—all that got his dick leaking.
One night, as he watched the latest news about you, his eyes widened in shock and excitement after reading the headline. You had skinned someone alive, ripping their back and ribs off to make wings out of them, turning them into a fucked-up angel, then you hung them on the brick walls of an alley that was just down the corner of the street. You were so close to him. It made his heart skip a beat.
He admired you a lot, not because you were just some cold-hearted killer, but because you had motive. In a cruel world full of injustices and corruption, a lot of bad men get to walk away free from their crimes while their victims had to live the rest of their lives carrying the burdens and trauma of their past. In some way, you were a vigilante, not like Batman. You were more gruesome and violent, leaving your victims in a state that no one skilled enough could replicate. You were an artist in some wag. There was this one instance where you decapitated a man, and gutted him from the inside out, tying his organs around his body like necklaces and bracelets. You made murder look so beautiful.
Choso found it so hot.
That gave him a clue. He decided to venture to the nearby local hospital. He asked around for their most prestigious surgeon. “I need to meet the best,” he demanded. The lady by the desk called you—a classy woman who was finely dressed in a perfectly tailored blazer with a white dress shirt peeking underneath. The tight pencil skirt you wore showed off your curves. Your shoes were from a famous Parisian brand that was surely expensive and chic. You were the epitome of class and elegance.
“You can meet me by my office if you have any concerns. I’d be more than happy to help,” you flashed a smile at him, your teeth were perfect and well-kept. There was something eerie about your smile. It was too perfect that it didn’t seem genuine at all.
Choso wasted no time and dragged himself to your office. After a few minutes of waiting, it was finally his turn to “consult” you. Something in his gut made him so sure that you were the notorious killer.
“Good afternoon, mister…?” You quickly stole a glance at him, then looked back down on your notebook, your hand quickly writing notes about the previous patient.
“Choso,” he replied.
“What seems to be the problem, Choso?”
“Are you the one responsible for all those… art pieces?” Choso gulped, his face turning pale from the anxiousness the crept within his chest.
“Art pieces? I’m a surgeon, dear,” you responded without taking your eyes off your notebook, busily jotting down additional information about your patient who suffered from a severe form of hernia. You remained calm despite knowing exactly what he was referring to. The man seemed to have no ill intention towards you. Perhaps you’ve gained quite an audience and some fans.
“The angel,” Choso spoke again, hoping it would clarify things. It felt like a futile attempt. Of course, if you truly were the killer, then you wouldn’t just reveal yourself to someone like him.
“What about it? Did you like what you saw?” You finally stopped writing and stood up. Choso couldn’t help but look at your dress shirt which was unbuttoned on the top, giving him a glimpse of your push-up bra.
Choso instantly turned red, sweat forming on his temples. “Yes. Well, I think you’re very skilled. You’re the best out there,” he stuttered.
“Of course I am,” you grinned.
Now that you’ve revealed his identity to him, Choso found himself in the best possible situation he could have gotten into, right between your big thighs, his tongue swiping and sucking on your clit until you cum and squirt on his pretty face.
Choso begged you to let him fuck you, but you told him to be patient. He was on his knees, arms tightly wrapped around your leg while he desperately humps you, smearing his pre-cum all over your leg.
He amused you, and because of this, you decided to keep him around as your little toy. You can't keep relying on killing assholes to keep you excited. You needed a little fun when it comes to sex and bitches too.
Choso would frequent your office or you'd bring him to your car so he could relieve you. If he was good enough, you'd return the pleasure by riding his dick until his eyes are rolled back and his tongue was sticking out. Sometimes, he'd even ask you to hold him at gunpoint or to press a knife against him. He was your cute and freaky sex doll. Your pride and ego forbid you from admitting this, but you’ve grown a soft spot for him.
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