Can I Request An Imagine (or It Could Be A Hc) Abt How The Reader And Trent Are So Wrapped Up In Each

𝐃𝐎N'T N𝗘𝗘D TO 𝙎AY IT ───── weak hero class ꒰ y. sieun xreader # ). was i just a little too late?

newton’s third law: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction 𓂃. sieun hadn’t forgiven himself for what happened to suho. you could tell, eyes don't lie.

★ slight spoilers for season one , , angst / hurt-comfort ⓘmentions of fighting blood & cuts 🛞 3kish

It’s said that the eyes are the window to the soul—the way you see everything beautiful in the world. But then the opposite would have to reign true too, wouldn’t it? They can be cold or full of warmth and love. They tell you so much about a person. 

A gift given and so easily taken. 

Horrified was an understatement. “What the fuck… did you do?” Disturbed by the sight in front of you; Your best friend, half-dead in a sterilized room, you couldn’t believe your eyes. 

Immediately, the man at the patient's side got to his feet, spinning around to face you in the doorway. He had a sickly look, worse than one from just a stomach ache. His mouth opened and closed, clearly not sure what to say—what would be right to say. His eyes were teary, obviously distraught. But you couldn’t see past the blue-hot rage rushing through you. There was a knife in your hand, and you didn’t care who it was pointed at. 

Just that it hit someone. 

That it made them feel pain like you did—like you couldn’t stand. Call it selfish, but if you were going to feel destroyed, then you’d do the same to everyone else. 

“It’s not fair!” Your voice raised, and so did some walls; ones you thought were lowered enough for the man in front of you to create an understanding strong enough to outweigh the tragedy. To trauma-bond. But, nothing compared to the feeling of losing someone you never thought you would, “I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t see you sit here everyday. I hate this—them. You. I can’t stand to see you, Si-eun, get out of my face!” 

But it was the guilt. The agony. Maybe you should’ve been the one in the hospital bed, you bargained, you should be the one who dies, not him. 

…It wasn’t always like that though. 

You used to be a normal friend group. You used to laugh. You used to joke. You used to hang out at random snack stands. You used to deny your feelings for Si-eun, back when Suho was the only one who knew (you barely even knew). Feel comfortable. You used to call Beom-Seok someone you trusted, someone you liked. You used to be able to look in the mirror and not hate who was staring back at you. You used to be dedicated to studying, focused on the future. But now all you felt was comatose, regretful of a past you felt you hadn’t appreciated enough. A closeness between people you held and let vanish. A gaping hole that you now only had a shovel in. 

“Yeon Si-eun,” Your friend motioned to the shorter boy next to him who was clutching the straps of his backpack, “I saved him, I’m sure you heard.” 

“Actually, I heard you stopped him.” You contradicted, eyeing over the man who was expressionless, even after you imposed his violence, “I heard he would’ve killed those boys.” 

Ice-cold. That’s what Suho described Si-eun as a day ago when he was sitting on your bed, and you could see it. But it seemed like he only disguised himself with that to survive, to not draw attention, to mask a pain that was deep-rooted. 

Or maybe it just took one to know one. 

“It’s nice to meet you… Yeon Si-eun.” You held out your hand to him, “Yn, Suho’s best friend—not girlfriend, he’s definitely not my type.” 

Suho threw his head back, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, whatever, fuck you. I’m everyone’s type, right Si-eun?” 

The familiar beat of a popular song started playing, and you immediately stood up. You grabbed a spoon and an empty Soju bottle from off the table, putting them together as a makeshift microphone for the time being. 

Suho’s eyebrows rose as you joined Beom-Seok in the middle of the small room, iconically singing Mingyu’s opening to HOT by SEVENTEEN. 

Then, he burst out laughing, dragging Si-eun’s body back and forth as he practically spasmed in his seat. But Si-eun had a smile on his face too, arms crossed over his chest—though, not because he was uncomfortable, it was natural looking. Something you could get used to seeing more often. 

He didn’t want to, but he was opening up to your friend, in turn, you and Beom-Seok as well.

“Here,” You glanced up from the mock exam you were bent over at a familiar voice, sights meeting a very calm Si-eun. He had a bruise on his cheekbone that he tried to hide by turning his head, but you saw it. You knew he knew you did too. “Suho got you a snack.” 

“And he didn’t give it to me?” You quizzed, going back to the paper, although setting the pen down, “I thought he was a delivery boy.” 

Si-eun let out a huffed-laugh, and your eyes widened in surprise, hidden by your downturned gaze. He knew how to do that when Suho wasn’t around? 

“Are you two dating?” Suho laughed out, resting further back into the couch cushion behind him, “Because you look good together.” 

“You know he doesn’t have eyes for anyone but you,” 

Suho scoffed, your eyes rolling in return. But you could tell your best friend caught the way you glanced in Si-eun’s direction after, “Besides, I’m too busy to date anyone—especially, one of you guys who keep fighting like a bunch of… well, men. I have standards, you know. And, I’m so close to leaving the country to study abroad. I hate long distance, I don’t think I could do it.”

Si-eun remained silent, looking curiously between you two. He was a man of few words, however, you often could tell his emotion now; through body language, through slight variations in his expressions. Call it intuition. 

Perhaps the opposite reigned true as well though. 

Definitely not a crush. 

“Did you seriously fail again?” You gawked in Suho’s direction, “I gave you the answers this time!” 

Then your hand was flying out to lightly smack the man next to you on the arm. He flinched, grabbing at where you made contact—though you know he’s been hit harder. You’ve even seen it. And, as much as it was terrifying, you had to hand it to him, he had determination. 

“Si-eun! What happened to getting him to pass?” 

His eyes were wide, innocently so, “We were working all night.” 

Beom-Seok, who was next to Suho in the restaurant booth, let out a chuckle, just listening. He knew you’d spare no offense in mocking your friend's lack of educational-dedication. But, you knew Suho had other priorities, you just wished he’d listen to your pleas a little more than he actually did. 

Though, it didn’t stop you from joking, knowing you’d stay up ‘till dawn to help him memorize the periodic table, and algebraic formulas again and again if you had to. “Working… hardly at all, I see.” 

“That’s not funny, yn, I tried my best!” 

“You fell asleep halfway through, the only circles you were drawing was from the drool coming out of your mouth!” 

Laughter sounded in the small space, and you realized that maybe a simple life was better than all the exotic future plans; the adventures you wanted to go on with Suho, the better life you thought you could give Si-eun, the childlike love you had for the three of them. 

Maybe you didn’t want to leave after highschool. Maybe you wanted to stay and grow with them instead—there were plenty of good schools here that could offer you piloting classes. 

“Can I ask you something, Si-eun?” You stumbled into him, grabbing at his arm to steady yourself. You could feel his body tense, but then relax. “Did Suho actually get me that during exam season?” 

Eventually, you came to a stop outside a snack shop, one that sold Tteokbokki and fish cakes, and you squealed—shifting through your purse for some loose cash. In your intoxicated state, you thought that sounded like the most delicious thing you could eat. 

As you were shifting through your bag clumsily, Si-eun had already bought you a platter by the time you looked up with a bill clutched between your fingers. 

He wordlessly handed you a toothpick to stab the rice cakes with, while he held a cup with skewed fish cakes and broth for you later. 

You didn’t know why he offered to walk you home, you lived in the opposite direction of him, but you were glad it was him by your side. You were glad he caught you when you stumbled. You were just glad it was Yeon Si-eun: someone you thought you’d only see from a far. 

Your lip jutted out at the gesture, “Really?” 

He slightly shrugged, “You looked excited.” 

You took a bite, the spiciness hitting the spot. You loved it, it was one of your favorite ways to eat food. 

“I, uh—like you.” You slurred through a mouthful, giggling and then slapping your lips with a gasp, “Wait! Did I just say that? I’m sorry. It’s true but, I mean I didn’t—wasn’t going to say anything—” 

“Yn... I like you too.” 

But then everything came crashing down. Every plan you had crumbled. Every scooter ride with Suho where you would scold him for going too fast or taking a turn too sharp suddenly seemed like a luxury you’d never get back. Every stolen glance between you and Si-eun, every light brush of the hand, every word that went unsaid seemed like it would now remain as a stain on your heart. Every rainbow was monotone, void of color in a world that used to be so vibrant. Every smile and joke, and I trust you and I love you’s were in the past, long-lost to a violent and pain-filled future. 

One you never in a million years would have planned for. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Si-eun never said much, and when he did it was blunt and to the point. Some might say he was rude, cold, but truthfully, you think he just felt like nobody ever listened if it wasn’t short-winded and sharp enough to cut. “I don’t need your pity.” 

He’d gotten into another fight, God knows when, and somehow ended up at your doorstep. A cold night, maybe reflective of the sorrow in the air. The weight on his shoulders. The crushing guilt. 

He swore he’d stop. 

But It was always a fight. It was always punches and kicks that ruined everything. And eventually, it hit hard enough to break your heart in a million pieces. 

You weren’t exactly close anymore, after what happened to your best friend Ahn Suho last year, but you couldn’t resist opening the door wide enough for the man to make his way in. 

Afterall, you used to be friends, and something in between. You used to know him. 

And there was something alluring about Si-eun. He’s always had it—the way his eyes portray every emotion on his otherwise monotone face. The way he walks around like an aimless vessel. You hadn’t seen him in a while, but it seemed like something had broken inside him since that time, something darker by nature. But something sadder, too, lived simultaneously. 

You reached to the side, grabbing a tube branded by some antibacterial ointment off of the sinks porcelain. 

“I don’t pity you, Si-eun.” You replied, squeezing a glob onto the end of a cotton swab, “Not after what happened.” 

He slumped over a little more at your words, avoiding your gaze by looking at the ground instead, where you stood in front of him. He was sitting on the toilet, after you’d caught a glimpse of the bruises and cuts his skin had, ushering him into the bathroom to play doctor. 

Truthfully, you don’t know why you did it—why you opened the door. Maybe it was the moonlight that glistened over his features, the ones you used to admire all those months back. Maybe it was the clear sense of longing that overtook your body when you’d finally heard a word from him—a broken plea, your name, from his cut up lips. Maybe it was the familiarity of a past life you missed. 

Maybe it was because he was the only thing you had left of Suho… The only memory you could stand to remember. 

Si-eun sighed, hands coming together in his lap. He shifted, almost like he was uncomfortable—but, you can’t remember the last time you’d actually seen him be comfortable; Maybe it was before your shared friend went into a coma, or maybe he never has been. 

However, somewhere deep down you could see the smile on his face that used to brighten up any room. One that would only come out when Suho, Beom-Seok, you and him would hang out. Back before everything ripe turned rotten. Back when it was the four of you against the world. Before the bloodied knuckles and bruised eye sockets. 

Before you told Si-eun you couldn’t stand to see him anymore, that one stupidly contrasting day; sunny and boiling hot, to your harsh and cold tongue. 

You couldn’t will yourself to remember, but you’d never actually forget what everyone at your school seemingly has; the boy in the back of the class who slept so soundly despite the noise, the straight A student who broke and moved schools, and the man who suddenly went missing before the dew on the spring leaves even began to dry.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered out under a breath, “I’m really sorry, yn.” 

And suddenly all you could see behind your eyes was the disheartened look of a man who sat outside your shared lifelines hospital room. Shoulders hunched as he typed messages he feared would never be read. As he held back tears and swallowed down the crushing guilt. 

He’d seen you once, but there was a lifeless look behind his eyes. One that you couldn’t recognize, like he didn’t recognize. A vague sense of displacement, hopelessly devoted, like he couldn’t stand to see himself reflected off of you. 

And that’s when you realized, he never stopped blaming himself. He bent only so far before he broke. You heard about it; Smashing widows and cracking bones. You heard the desperation in his cries. Your heart shattered with him and for him: Everything Si-eun used to be. Everything Si-eun could’ve been. It all came crashing down, and he was still trying to climb out of the rubble. 

And that’s why you distanced yourself from his name. Because it hurt too much to see the what-if’s that never happened… But could’ve. Everything Si-eun should’ve been to you. It hurt too much when people would ask you how Suho was doing (for the first couple of weeks), if he’s progressed or had taken a turn for the worse, so you stopped going to school.

What Si-eun was doing now, so you erased him from your memory, pretending you’d never met. How you were holding up losing everything you had ever wanted, so you tried anything to protect your heart.

You hated them. You despised them. They took everything from you. The choice you never got to make. A version of yourself you were still mourning. The happiness your friends brought you. Suho, Beom-seok… Si-eun. 

“For what?” You laid your palm against his cheek, lifting his head enough to apply the ointment over a rather deep cut. You didn’t think that was the thing pestering him though. Still, he avoided your gaze. And you were going to ignore it until you felt a tear brush past your hand. 

You put the cotton swab down, taking the other side of his face. He unconsciously leaned into the touch. The warmth on his cold skin. The comfort that you would always bring. Suho always said you were the sunlight on a cloudy day, but you’ve never felt more overcast than you do now. 

But then, finally, your eyes met, tears falling slowly over your thumbs as you brushed them away. 

And, for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw it. The scars that were constantly ripped open. The inner-turmoil that was debilitating: Not eating and not sleeping. You saw it. The love he harbored and pushed aside, respecting your wishes to never see his face again. You saw it. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

And maybe the beliefs had gotten it wrong, all the stories that said the eyes were the window to the soul, because all you could see was a reflection of the person looking back at you. All you could see in Si-eun’s eyes was you. 

“It’s not your fault, Si-eun.” 

The air was coated in a mutual understanding; It lingered. The pain lingered… He lingered. The memory has seemingly dug its claws deeply into your heart and wouldn’t let up. He knew it, you knew it. There was something so devastatingly romantic about it all—how evil life could be. It took and it gave, and it was never fair. Inflicted wounds that only got infected, but gave you someone who was hurting the same way. Someone who related to the way you couldn’t close your eyes without being haunted. The torment your heart felt. 

But the price tag on codependency was high, and you didn’t seem to have the funds back then—the will to stay. 

You should’ve stayed. You should’ve been his comfort, his friend and something in between. You shouldn’t have been scared to keep him close, afraid you’d lose him as you lost your safety-net. 

“I-I—“ He started, “I haven’t been able to sleep since. I haven’t been able to close my eyes without seeing him. I-I—it’s my fault, yn, he shouldn’t have gotten involved. None of you should’ve. I’m sorry,” 

Suho had never let you get involved in his hobby to learn self-defense skills, and then Si-eun came along and suddenly it was all fists and glory. Guardian-angel this, guardian-angel that. 

Nonetheless, maybe the eyes were insightful. Because you saw it. A play-by-play of every interaction: When Suho introduced you to his new friend who he described as ‘cold as ice’, to two-weeks later when you sang karaoke, and three-months in when you got drunk and confessed your undying love for Si-eun. Then Beom-seok selling you all out because of jealousy, and fight after stupid fucking fight. Crumbling, crushing, shattering. And then nothing. Everyone was suddenly gone, and sometimes that felt longer than them actually being in your life. 

And you blamed him only because you needed someone to blame. But your guilt ate at you. 

As he did too. 

“I forgave you, Si-eun.” You leaned down, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He hesitated before you felt the embrace you longed for—the embrace he longed for. “Forgive yourself.” 

reblogs appreciated ! loserlrvss 2025 rights reserved. @kstrucknet @slytherinshua @gyuwrites @sknyuz

*ೃ࿐TO FAULT A NET

[ ACT V: HE IS WHAT HE HIDES ]

spider-man! ethan landry x black cat! reader

#SYNOPSIS— ethan takes a photo of mindy in an ambulance, chad's screaming about webs being shot, and ethan thinks the ambulance blanket is cold.

#CONTAINS— enemies to lovers, slowburn, antihero&vigilante reader, familial issues, implication of ptsd, gore!!, blood, murder, death, reader is overly flirtatious

#AUTHORSNOTE— thank you so much for following this series so closely <3 this isn't the end yet, there's still an epilogue xx

ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V

you had learned from your years in the criminal world that to underestimate someone driven by revenge was a mistake.

you had seen countless people go to unimaginable lengths just to seek the satisfaction of victory. of finally having the upper hand over the one person they believed caused them so much turmoil. you had heard men and woman alike compare it to hero's work. and you understood them sometimes, but not when their victims didn't deserve it. not when their victims had more of a right to seek them out.

which was why, as you stood uncomfortably with chad, danny, tara, and sam, listening to tara and chad bicker with danny about how he pulled them on and split mindy and ethan up from them, your eyes were set on every person around you. everyone was dressed in costumes, as it was finally halloween day. but that meant that more people were wearing stab masks everywhere around you.

"i don't understand why we couldn't have just taken my car," you muttered, eyes set on every person wearing a stab made. beside you, tara sighed.

"too many of us. besides, roads are packed right now because of halloween." tara shifted uncomfortably next to you and chad, moving away from the strangers around her. "do you think they'll be okay?" she asked you.

"who, mindy and ethan?" you asked, trying to be nonchalant, as though you hadn't completely broken ethan's heart and your own yesterday.

you kept reminding yourself that it was for the best. but you still felt that ache in your chest just at the mention of his name.

you still had a deal to finish. after everything, it'd be over.

"they'll be okay as long as they stick together," you murmured to tara, making her nod worriedly.

"right. as long as they stick together."

the lights flickered on the subway, making you freeze and hover your hand over your side. you had brought your gun (which you had stolen, of course) with you and a knife. two things that would be incredibly incriminating if any of the group were to see you with it, but you couldn't just go into the plan empty handed. you were taught better than that.

besides, how do you think you survived this long? by following the rules and not bringing a gun around with you during your heists?

the lights flickered on again, making you and the group relax slightly. holding tightly onto the pole of the subway, your body swinging with every movement, you could only hope that you wouldn't have to use the gun too much.

you had killed before. you were willing to kill again.

halloween night was in full swing, full of traffic and busy streets. the ground was slightly damp from the unexpected rain that happened through the day, but the clouds had cleared up to reveal a starless sky. kirby led you and the others to the theatre yet again, urgently pushing all of you in and using her card to open the gate.

"i cleared the place before you all got here." the gate slammed behind kirby as she turned to all of you (except for danny, who sam had told to not join). "so this is the only way in or out. he steps in through the first door, both doors lock automatically, trapping him inside." a triumphant smirk appeared on her face. "we turn it into a kill box."

"weapons?" sam asked with her arms crossed over her chest.

"one gun, and i hold onto it," kirby said. you and sam sent her a disapproving look, and she rolled her eyes. "i'm the only one with a badge here, and that's the way it's gonna be."

if only she knew about the gun on your side. and the knife on your other side. her blissful obliviousness made you bite back a laugh. if only they knew.

"we're safe here," kirby said reassuringly, her words making you narrow your eyes out of doubt.

"i'm gonna check in with mindy. see if they're close," sam said, walking away with tara and chad trailing near her. kirby's eyes were set on you, her obvious suspicion making you raise a brow.

"what?"

"you don't like the plan?" kirby asked you with a tilt of her head.

you shook your head confidently. "no. it all seems too easy—" your phone buzzed in your hand, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes when you saw an unknown caller calling. "hello?" you asked as you held the phone to your ear.

"y/n?" ethan's panicked voice made your eyes widen, your heart dropping. "mindy's at the er— the killer stabbed her in the hand. like right through. i'm outside, can you let me in?"

you glanced at kirby, who gave you a warning look. she didn't trust him— rightfully so, from her perspective —but you nodded to the gate.

"open the door and stay here. let us both in." you told the agent, trying not to let your obvious distrust for her (you had been running from policemen for years, and she was fbi) show on your face.

the gates creaked open as you walked down the steps of the gate, unlocking and opening the door for ethan. he looked more disheveled than usual, his eyes clouded over with worry, stress, and what seemed to be hurt when he saw you. "thanks," he breathed, and you nodded, making your way back up the stairs and through the gate kirby held open for you.

"where's mindy?" kirby asked him, and ethan pulled out his phone, showing mindy on a stretcher, ready to go into the ambulance. she was flipping off the camera witt her non injured hand (typical, and you smiled a bit at the sight) but she was okay. an unreadable expression befell kirby's face, but she nodded with a sigh. "fine. you two stay here.. i'm gonna clear the area upstairs one more time."

you nodded stiffly, already tensing up just by being around the brunette next to you. but you had to work with him, you knew that. you told him yourself. coughing awkwardly, you moved away from him, walking to look around. "are your web things with you, or.."

ethan avoided your gaze, nodding his head once as he looked around the area around you. "i'll use it only if i really need to," he mumbled.

the lights were working, but old, making them flicker and fade ever so slightly. the smell of asbestos and old wood filled ethan's nose, and with every flicker of light, he could feel himself tensing up more and more. ethan found himself staying around you as a result, as though he was seeking the comfort of your presence. and you let him— because you were seeking the comfort of his presence too. "i'm guessing you have your stuff, too?"

"couldn't bring my gloves without being horribly obvious," you muttered in response. letting out a sigh, you leaned against the door. your mind had been on edge ever since you willingly entered the theatre, the possibility of something happening out of nowhere weighing heavy on your mind. sucking in a shaky breath and exhaling, you could feel his brown eyes finally look at you. picking up on all the details. all his observations.

"i'll let you know when something is happening because of the.. uh.."

"spider tingle?"

"i like to use the word sense, but sure." ethan swallowed thickly. he sighed, the exhaustion getting to him. he pinched his nose bridge. “i was able to stop the killer from doing more to mindy.. they still injured her regardless.”

you were silent for a few seconds, weighing your options and responses in your head. “i told you that you’re stupid if you blame yourself for stuff like that.”

"i know."

"don't blame yourself for something that you couldn't avoid from happening."

and before he could respond, the lights went out. "y/n?"panic settled into his bones as ethan immediately walked to where you were standing, his chest accidentally bumping into you.

"i'm fine—" the sound of a whirring overhead and what sounded like cheesy movie music began to echo from the theatre nearby, making you and ethan walk towards it, your hand hovering over your knife. ethan walked in front of you before pushing the black curtain out of your way.

you made eye contact with sam, who looked just as confused as you did as the three of you stared at the movie play out. it was a stab remake— a poor one, you noted —that looked like every other stab homemade remake on the internet.

but your focus on the movie made you fail to notice ethan's frown as he stared at it. he had seen it before, but where?

"we have to get out of here—" sam said you as you led them towards one of the exits, heart jumping into your chest when you came face to face with tara and chad.

"go back, go back now!" ethan yelled, senses going haywire as he grabbed tara and chad, pulling them through the door. he shut the door behind him, turning his back on it as you and the others rushed to the middle of the theatre, looking around you frantically.

"it's kirby! kirby is the killer—" sam rushed out, making chad groan.

"yeah, no shit!"

"the entire theatre is a kill box for us," you breathed, searching all around you for any kind of exit. ethan looked at the balcony view, eyes widening when he saw the exit doors flashing up ahead.

"up there! maybe it leads to the roof?" he sent you a look, and you nodded. you both had to get them out of here. and you were both willing to put your own lives at stake for that.

"let's go, let's go—"

ethan lunged forward right as the killer jumped from behind the theatre, pushing tara aside. she only received a cut on her arm, but another swing gave ethan one too. he groaned at the slice his arm received, the deep cut making annoyance thrum through his veins.

sam dodged the killer's swing over her head, and chad ducked under before the killer could stab him. but before the killer could swing low and slice chad, you lunged at his side, tackling him to the ground. "go!" you yelled to the others, shoving yourself off the ground.

ethan grabbed the camera behind you, swinging it towards the killer before they could get back up. he shot them with webs, unable to stop himself from wanting to slow them down. even with the mask, you could see the genuine shock the killer had on their face as they made quin work of trying to get out.

"c'mon!" grabbing his hand, you ran to the back where the others were. ethan made you run ahead of him (much to your chagrin). if anyone was going to get hurt, it might as well be him.

ghostface was hot on your heels and it was much too cramped and small of a space for you to turn around and shoot them, especially since ethan was in the way. so you could only grab his hand in yours, dragging him behind you as you ran behind chad.

you ran into the snack bar, ethan throwing down the popcorn machine behind him. but ghostface prevailed; he lunged after chad, who dodged one of the killer's swings before they forced themselves onto him, pinning him against the wall. you, tara, and sam all forced the killer off of him, before the killer send a punch towards you that you narrowly ducked under to grab your knife at your side, stabbing them in the stomach, twisting it, and pulling it out.

"what the fuck—" sam's eyes widened in fear when she saw your weapon, realization dawning over her face. you hadn't said anything to kirby about being armed.

"you?" tara asked, horror ghosting over her face.

"no! not me— why would you come to this place and not be armed?" you yelled in exasperation, ethan moving quickly past you to tackle ghost face to the ground, his advanced strength making him over power him easily. ethan turned to you and the others, eyes frantic as he yelled, "go!"

your eyes widened in horror when you saw two other killers appear from the sides, their knives flashing. one jumped on top of him, but ethan had already sensed them, grabbing their arm and throwing them off of him. but then another came up to his side, shoving him to the ground, giving the other two time to stand up.

"ethan—" you screamed, already grabbing for your gun, but chad was already grabbing you.

"y/n, let's go!" chad yelled as tara and sam ran back into the theatre.

"i have to help him—" you protested, reaching for your gun and pulling it out, shooting at one of the ghost faces. it hit their shoulder, making them turn around eerily. their blood seeped into the black fabric of their cloak, but you knew that a single bullet wouldn't stop someone determined for revenge.

ethan shot a web at their feet, stopping them from walking further towards you, his eyes panicked when he saw two of them turn their attention to you and chad.

"did he just shoot a fucking web?!" chad screamed, his movements faltering and making you escape his arms, pointing your gun at one of the ghost faces and shooting repeatedly before shooting the other.

your face fell when you saw they barely winced. they were wearing bulletproof vests.

one of the killers was still focused on ethan, and with his mind solely on your protection, he failed to stop the knife from sinking into his side. you watched in horror as the killer twisted it, the wet sound of gushing blood making anger run through your body.

you watched as the light dimmed in his eyes, ethan's face paling as his eyes stayed on yours. the killer grabbed at his wrists, feeling the web shooters and tearing them off of his body and slamming them to the ground. the two killers who were webbed cut themselves free and advanced towards you.

"ethan—" you screamed, aiming your gun and trying to get a good shot, to no avail. one of the killers swiped at your stomach, making you narrowly dodge it. chad punched them before they could try more. but as your attention was on them, you failed to miss the quick swing the other killer made towards your arm, cutting deeply along the expanse of it and making you drop your gun.

immediately, you tried to go for it, injured arm desperately reaching for the gun as one of the ghost faces did the same. you kicked them in the stomach, grabbing your gun and hiding it as they tackled you. their knife was right in front of your face, threatening to stab you right in the eye. you could see the shine of the blade right in front of you as you screamed, using all your strength to get them off.

ethan shoved off the killer with his strength, ignoring the pain as he ran up to the killer on top of you, grabbing them and throwing them against the wall. chad kicked the ghost face he was taking care of in the stomach, his hand on the new stab wound on his side before running into the theatre. "let's go!"

"c'mon, c'mon, c'mon," ethan said, pushing you and chad into the theatre, slamming the door shut behind him. he felt your hand over his hand, applying more pressure to his stab wound, and he offered you a strained smile. "y/n, i'm gonna be okay."

you swallowed the worry that brewed in your throat, not giving him a response. blood seeped through your hand.

"dad! dad i fixed it, i swear i fixed it—" you sobbed, shaking your unconscious father. you could feel the blood that stained your hands, the warm liquid slowly turning cold.

ethan grabbed your hand, pulling it away from his stomach and squeezing it. his eyes immediately clouded over with worry when he saw the large gash that ran up your arm, the blood seeping from the deep cut like a faucet. it reached all the way up to your palm, making you hold your gun in your nondominant hand.

the three of you ran towards sam and tara, who were standing in the middle of the huge shrine. your back was to tara's as you held the gun up, watching as the ghostfaces came up all around you. it stank of the poignant smell of iron, the blood spilling out of all of you filling the air with its stench.

the sound of a gun ricocheting made you all duck. kirby, crazed with blood flowing from the side of her face, pointed the gun all around the theatre.

"you," you seethed, eyes narrowing as you began to raised your gun at her.

"it was you the entire time," sam breathed, making kirby shake her head quickly.

and as if it was all on cue, detective bailey walked into the theatre, his own gun pointed at kirby. he was practically vibrating in anger as he spat, "was it you? did you kill my daughter?"

"dad?" ethan asked in shock, face falling when he saw him. but something was wrong. something was horribly wrong, and he felt it more than he felt everything else. that pit in his stomach that foreshadowed what was coming.

"she killed her, ethan!" wayne snapped at his estranged son. "she killed our quinn!"

"jesus christ! whatever he's been saying to you, don't listen to him— he's probably the killer!" kirby hissed, making you look at detective bailey, your gun still pointed.

your eyes narrowed as it travelled down to the white webbing stuck on the side of his shoe. and right as kirby screamed that something was right behind him, you shot at his side. but it was too late; two shots already hit kirby, making her fall to the ground. and immediately, his gun was pointed to you. ethan immediately moved in front of you, his hand on his bleeding side.

looking down at the gunshot into the side of his torso, wayne grinned, pulling his shirt up to reveal his bullet proof vest. police grade— of course. "good job," wayne praised, a sadistic smirk appearing on his face. both the ghostfaces walked up next to him, their knives stained with your blood in their hands. "both of you."

"you?" tara asked, and wayne shrugged.

the cop rolled his eyes. "ah, 'course it's me. i honestly expected more from the two of you after what you did to us," wayne said with a growing smirk. "i'm sure ethan here can tell you all about it."

"what?" ethan felt everyone's eyes on him, realization on his face when he connected the dots. all the effort to get away from what is older brother did. all the effort me made to change his name, to move across the country, to leave his own family because despite how he grieved, ethan never forgave richie for what he did. all the lies his father said about wanting to escape from richie's crimes.

he lied to him.

"ethan, what is he talking about?" you asked ethan, expecting him to deny something. anything. to say that his father had just gone batshit, to say that his father was just trying to drag him into his killing game.

but ethan stayed silent, avoiding your eyes.

"ethan, what're they talking about?" chad asked again warily, backing away from his roommate, tara right behind him as he protected her.

"you didn't.." ethan breathed, and suddenly he felt like he was sitting alone at richie's funeral again, silently seething as his mother and father praised him for being such a wonderful man, for being such a wonderful son, even though they knew they were raising a future murderer. "you killed her? you killed quinn?" he asked, his voice breaking as he felt the bitter taste of pennies in his mouth.

"how 'bout you tell them your real last name, ethan?" wayne pushed further ignoring his words and pointing his gun at you aggressively. "about who you really are? tell everyone! including your fucking girlfriend here—"

"fuck you," you growled, and wayne's eyes shone bright in anger.

"you weren't part of the plan. you and that pathetic excuse of a son," wayne yelled, his gun pointing to ethan now. he was careless as he waved it around, obviously at the brink of sanity. and then, he broke into mirthless laughter, still pointing his gun towards whoever he pleased. "take off your masks."

the ghostface to his right tore off their mask, revealing a woman with dirty blond hair and an angled face. she was tall, around the same height of wayne, and her thin lips were in a sadistic smirk. her siren-like eyes stared daggers into tara and sam, and you would've crossed her off as some psychopath extra character if it weren't for the color of her eyes, which made your face fall; they were the same golden brown hue as ethan's.

"ethan," his mother crooned, voice dripping with disdain as she eyed her youngest child with contempt. "you've grown," she drawled, unimpressed eyes looking over him.

"mom," ethan breathed, his face paling. he could hear his blood roaring in his ears and his skin pricking with goosebumps as his senses went haywire. suddenly, he was hyperaware of every fiber of his clothing sticking to his skin, of how there was win rushing into the theatre from the exit doors on the roof, and how his mother was looking at him the same way she looked at weeds in her garden back home.

and to make matters worse, the other ghostface removed their mask too, revealing familiar red hair that made ethan's throat run dry and tears well in his eyes.

his sister always had eyes that he had been envious of; they were grey, like a constant storm that would brew over the ocean. he always thought they were so cool, much cooler than his brown ones, but when he looked into quinn's eyes, he saw no constant storm. he saw that sociopathic glint that richie always had when ethan did something that he hated. that glint that showed no remorse, no care, and no love.

"hey, roomies," quinn dragged out, her smile not quite reaching her eyes as she stared at tara and sam as though they were her prey. and then, and then, she turned to ethan. and the way she looked at him.. it was as though he hadn't grieved for her the entire week. as though he didn't constantly blame himself for not doing more to save her, as though he wasn't the same boy she used to care for as a child.

quinn looked at him as though he was a parasite.

"quinn," ethan choked out, voice cracking as tears began to blur his vision. he wanted to bring himself to be happy, to hug his sister and scold her for ever making him go through that mental turmoil, but ethan didn't move. because he realized that quinn would easily make him go through it all again without a care in the world.

"hey, baby brother," quinn said in acknowledgement, grey eyes of steel sparking with fire as her smile turned into a grin. "nice to see you finally got some," she said, eyes flicking to you as she took a step forward.

"you better back up," you hissed, pointing your gun right at her and making quinn's face contort in anger.

"you're a fucking bitch," quinn sneered, pointing her knife at you. ethan grabbed your arm, moving his body to protect yours. quinn laughed. "of course ethan would get attached to a fucking liar just like he is."

"ethan, tell us the truth right now," sam said lowly, making you grip your gun tighter.

"yes, ethan," ethan's mother said, narrowing her eyes at her son in anger. "tell them the truth."

ethan's jaw clenched as he shook his head. "you know i was trying to get away—"

"say our last name, ethan!" wayne yelled, making ethan jump. never had he felt so much like a child again, crying as he was blamed for yet another one of richie's sadistic 'pranks' that borderlined torture.

and just like ethan did when he was a kid, he began to plead.

"dad, please—" ethan forced out through gritted teeth, only for wayne to laugh in disbelief.

"ethan kirsch." ethan's mother spat, as though the mere mention of his name on her lips brought poison to her tongue. "the name i gave him when he was born was ethan kirsch." she flashed a smile at sam, tara, and chad. "sound familiar?"

he couldn't breathe. the constant onslaught of reveals and the realization crashing over him made him unable to move. he was only vaguely aware of tara and sam's reactions as they finally connected the dots, of chad's loud questions as he desperately tried to get him to talk, and his family's demands for him to speak. it was all jumbled up for him as his breathing and heartbeat quickened.

and he could only feel you move in front of him as though you had the superpowers, not him. your gun was aimed at the three of them, shaky breaths escaping you as you put yourself between ethan and his family.

another person's history didn't dictate you own. you knew that first hand. and to hear sam and tara yell at ethan for lying, for being a traitor and for never uttering a word of his connection to richie, and to had chad stay quiet because he knew he saw ethan shoot a web moments before, that ethan was spider-man, and yet he stayed silent, only protecting tara behind him.

quinn and her mother began to walk around the theatre, slowly circling the four of you as they looked at you like wolves with their prey. quinn jumped forward, slashing tara's arm teasingly, a laugh escaping her lips as tara yelped in pain.

"i don't know what you believe," sam began, keeping an eye on ethan's mother as she circled them slowly. "but i didn't commit those murders in woodsboro—"

"they're not here for that, ethan said warily, sniffing harshly as he glared at his father. despite the sensory overload, his anger still shone through as clear as day. "they're here for richie."

wayne scowled at that, his eyes darting to ethan for a second before returning to sam again. "we know you didn't commit those murders in woodsboro— what, do you think this is based on some bullshit conspiracy theory? who do you think started all those rumors about you in the first place?”

quinn raised a knife-wielded hand towards sam, smiling triumphantly. you could hear wayne's sadistic laugh behind you. "do you know how easy it was to turn sam from the hero of woodsboro," she said with faux dreamy eyes, "into the villian? how easy it is to convince the world to believe the worst in people, rather than the best."

"and all the best lies boil down to one truth; that you, sam," wayne said, pointing a finger towards her, "are a killer."

"she was never the killer, dad," ethan scowled, pointing a finger to him, "you and mom raised one and did nothing! nothing, because you were just as fucking insane as he was!"

quinn jumped forward and tried to slash ethan's bicep, only for his other hand (which was supposed to keep pressure to his wound) grabbed her wrist. he kicked her back against the glass case, golden brown eyes now brass as he glared at her. "you don't get to talk about him like that!" quinn hissed. "you were just jealous of him. jealous because he was the son you never could be—"

"shut up."

your eyes met sam's, her eyes set on the gun you could barely wield due to your injured. wordlessly, you nodded, backing away from ethan until your back met sam's. your gun slowly lowered and you made a quick switch into her hand. your uninjured hand grabbed your knife and held it up.

"you can ask our parents now!" quinn yelled in disbelief, eyes crazed and dilated with adrenaline. "go on, ethan, ask them! 'was i never as good as richie?' i can tell you the answer now if you want—"

your fist collided with her face before she could say another word. the sickening crack of her nose made the pain in your body all the more bearable. your injured hand grabbed ethan's as sam shot at ethan's mom's leg, making her move away from you quickly.

you all tried to make your way to the ladders, the three of them immediately running after you and stopping you yet again.

"real great parenting job, by the way," tara said with a sneer, making quinn's eyes flare in anger over her bloody nose.

"shut your whore fucking mouth," quinn screamed, making sam shoot at her before she could step closer. the bullet grazed her ear, narrowly missing her head, and the redhead grinned at ethan's avoidance in looking at her. "what, can't handle a little blood?"

ethan only ignored her.

"did i overindulge in richie's love for these little movies? yeah," wayne sighed. "maybe! for me they're just a little dark. but.. " tears welled in his eyes, making yu grip the knife tighter in your hand as he stared at ethan. "richie really loved them. didn't he, ethan?"

"don't even talk to him," you snapped, making wayne grab your injured arm, his thumb burying into the gash inside of it. the feeling of his finger inside the fresh cut made you scream in pain, the sound echoing in ethan's mind and making him see red.

he shoved his dad hard, hard enough that he nearly stumbled and his back hit the edge of the stage. above his head, the sight of a young richie made ethan's blood rush louder in his ears, the sight of his oh-so-innocent looking older brother making him almost physically sick. and wayne only laughed a maniacal laugh at ethan's face.

"your girlfriend's fiesty!" wayne laughed. "richie would have loved her." he said, watching as your face contorted in anger.

"you better shut up," ethan growled, brows furrowing as his fists clenched at his father's words.

sam was practically shaking with anger, the gun pointed right at wayne as she forced out, "what happens next? what, after you're done with us, you'll just disappear?"

"no! i gotta hurry over to the hospital to make sure mindy and gale won'e pull through— which will be harder because my dear son decided to intervene with mindy's stabbing last minute — because everybody dies, sam!" he pointed the gun right at her, ignoring the gun she had in her hand. "everyone who had anything to do with the death of my son suffers and dies."

yells of encouragement from wayne's wife and his daughter echoed in theatre. "so now," wayne said lowly, "sam, put on the mask."

sam's eyes fell, as she sighed, the indifferent look on her face making tara look at her in disbelief at what she was doing. "he was.. so pathetic."

"maybe not the best time to say that, sam!" chad said, hands gripping a brick he had found earlier.

"what? no he wasn't." wayne said, gun aimed straight at sam's chest.

"yeah, your son," sam said, finally looking up at wayne with emotionless eyes. "he was a man baby who made his girlfriend do all the killing." her eyes darted at you, your head lowering slightly in understanding. "he was a limp dick little fuck who cried before i slit his throat."

"shut the fuck up!" quinn screamed, running towards sam before chad slammed the brick against her head. sam immediately shot at ethan's mom, who ducked under her shots and tried to lunge towards her, making her dodge it quickly, groaning when she felt a cut to her stomach.

using your uninjured nondominant hand, you threw the knife at wayne, making it lodge deep inside his side before ethan kicked the hilt, making it dig deeper. his scream of pain only fueled you as you and the others took advantage of his weakness and ran. tara began climbing up the ladder with sam and chad hot on her heels.

but you and ethan stayed behind.

"go with the others! we'll take care of this!" ethan yelled at them, tara's eyes widening when she looked down at the both of you.

"are you crazy?!" tara screamed frantically, climbing into the balcony and looking down at you. "come with us!" a shot towards her made her duck, chad immediately going to cover her with his arm.

"we have to go," chad urged her, pushing her towards the exit.

you turned away from them, swallowing thickly as you looked at where wayne stood, his gun pointed right at your head. you ducked under another bullet he shot, ethan grabbing your arm and pulling you behind him as you dodged his bullets.

"just like you to run away, ethan!" wayne yelled, knife still in his side as he watched you.

ethan's mom hummed in agreement, golden eyes shining with vengeance as she walked closer and closer to you. "changing your last name," a shot from wayne, "moving across the country," another shot, "ignoring your brother's death!" she stood in front of you and ethan, knife glinting in the dim light. her eyes met ethan's. "i'd rather you have died instead."

that sentence had been circulating in ethan's head much longer than he would admit. hearing her say it only confirmed his past thoughts, but that only made him angrier. with how she treated her, he could barely call her his mother.

ethan's jaw clenched as she lunged forward with her knife, narrowly missing his stomach. he grabbed her head with his hands and kneed her in the face, making her groan but prevail. she slashed at his leg, the pain making him only wince before he was slamming a punch into her face.

a shot that grazed your arm made your head snap towards where it came from. wayne's crazed smile made you immediately duck as another shot was sent towards you, and another, all making you farther and farther away from where ethan was. "oh, y/n," wayne srawled as you hid behind a glass case, eyes darted around as you tried to look for something to defend yourself with.

"you know, we did a search on you— there never was a y/n vaughn until around 10 years ago." wayne peeked behind a glass case, disappointment flashing over his face that quickly disappeared.

the mention of your change of last name made you swallow hard, ears listening to your surroundings behind richie's homemade movie still playing on the projector. "someone went to great lengths to change your name, you know. couldn't even find anything in the department," another peek, only to find nothing behind the case. he scowled at that, his patience wearing thin. "no mention of any parents. no guardians— just child protective—"

you jumped on wayne's back, grabbing the knife from his side and using it to dig it into his shoulder, his gun firing behind him wildly as he tried to get you off of him. but you were far too agile, for as soon as you stuck and twisted the blade, you were gone again, hiding behind some souvenir with the knife in your hand.

a beat followed your attack, the sound only being your rapid heartbeat as you tried to calm yourself. you were weaker now, especially because of your wound that seemed to continuously gush blood.

another beat. another pause.

and then you heard the rapid footsteps.

it made you turn around as ethan fought his mom, and as you turned around you came face to face with quinn mid air as she jumped at you. your duck was a second too late before you found yourself pinned to the floor. your head hit the concrete ground with a sickening crack, the power of it making you dizzy as quinn raised her knife to her throat, her hand holding your wrist with your knife.

"i knew there was something off about you ever since i caught ethan staring at you," quinn seethed, her bloodied mouth and nose dropping blood onto your face. "i also knew," she began to grin bloodily, showing her missing teeth from chad's punch with the brick, "that you were just some slut who wanted to fuck a superhero."

you groaned as her knife pressed deeper against your neck, hard enough to draw blood.

"i should've known little ethan was spider-man. it makes sense you know— he's always been too much of a coward to do shit on his own—"

"you and your family talk too fucking much." you raised your injured hand to your knife, quickly grabbing the hilt before you stabbed her lower abdomen, using the knife to push her off of you and for you to get on top of her. taking your knife out, you raised your knife and stabbed it into her again, listening to her gurgles as you stabbed her again. and again. and again.

but you underestimated her thirst for revenge. quinn's hand went up to stab you in the middle of your torso, twisting it back and forth with a horrible squelch squelch sound. the pain was unimaginable, radiating out everywhere as she forced you off of her. you wanted to get up. you needed to get up, but you had lost so much blood already. consciousness kept slipping out of your fingers as you laid there on the ground, blood seeping out of your mouth.

and yet again, you were alone. you only heard water in your ears, as though you were submerged under the ocean. you knew quinn's dead body was next to you, but she had already long succumbed to her wounds.

and you would've too. it felt as though you were 16 again, sobbing after killing the first two people you had ever killed in your life, desperately needing someone to come along and hold you and comfort you. but as you stared up at the abyss of the black ceiling, you found the abyss staring back at you.

you had no one then and you had no one now. you had pushed everyone closest to you away. you had put yourself here.

and to die alone was a scary thing. to die alone would be to dying just like your father, shot dead right at the edge of freedom, right before he could go home to his little girl.

until you heard him. his frantic voice calling for you, and suddenly, the waves disappeared, and all you heard was him.

and when he saw you, he could only feel panic. ethan had felt all of his family members' deaths as they happened. first his sister, then his mother, then his father, who sam had come back to take care of on her own.

he had no one before, but he truly had no one now. no one except for you. and to see you practically choking on your own blood on the ground, he was frantic because he couldn't lose you.

ethan was too stubborn and too selfish to lose you. maybe he was more like you than he thought.

he rushed to you, lip quivering when he saw the state you were in. "hey— hey—" ethan's hand came to hold yours as he put your head on his lap.

tears pricked his eyes as he looked down at your face, so beaten up and weary, but still looking up at him.

studying him like your favorite painting. taking in the color of his cheeks, the color of his eyes, the color of his lips— everything. and weakly, your hand went up to trace his face like you always wanted to, shaking hands remembering his every angle. his every curve.

"ethan—" you choked on your own blood, tears falling from your eyes as you stared up at him. his lip was cut and he had horrible bruises all over his face, but he was here. you weren't alone. not when he was here.

"i'm here," ethan said, tears dropping onto your face. he swallowed thickly as his senses went off again and his father's anguished scream echoed through the theatre. millions of nerves in his body practically electrified him at once. and there went his father.

"it's over. it's done. it's over, y/n."

but there was no witty remark. nothing but your eyes staring up at him and blinking slowly with every passing second. still staring, still studying, still remembering.

because once you closed your eyes, you'd never be able to see your favorite painting again.

sam walked up to the both of you, face falling when she saw you in ethan's arms. he was holding you so tight to him, your head almost limp as you struggled to stay ground. "the ambulance will be here any minute," she forced out, unable to look at the deep hole in your torso.

"hurry," ethan begged, looking back down at you. his eyes widened as your head began to fall back, his heart pounding out of his chest as he struggled to keep you with him for just a little longer. "stay with me, okay? i need you to—" he choked on his own tears. "i need you to stay with me."

"i'm sorry," you breathed, hand caressing ethan's cheek softly as he cried. you wanted to punch whoever was up there playing with your fate. you wanted to curse them out for making you die now, right when you realized that you would stay as long as ethan asked you to.

"don't say that, please," ethan pleaded, brushing tears from your eyes as he sniffled harshly. "you'll make it up to me. you'll make it up to me for treating me like such shit," he reveled in the weak laugh you let out, his own tearful laugh escaping him, "and we'll be okay. the deal won't matter and we'll be okay."

ethan's lip quivered as he stared at you, your eyes half lidded as you struggled to keep yourself with him. "you just need to stay with me. that's all i want— y/n?" ethan's face fell when your eyes shut and didn't open again. he could feel cold rush through his body as he shook you.

"y/n, c'mon." ethan shook you again, tears blurring his vision as he tried to get you to wake up. he wanted you to open your eyes and smile that genuine smile of yours and call him stupid for ever thinking you'd die just like that. he wanted you to kiss him and tell him that everything was okay and that you would be oaky, and he'd take you to museums and watch you stare at your favorite pieces of art and ramble to him just like he does to you. he wanted that.

but he received nothing of the sort. nothing but the warmth that was slowly disappearing from your body.

"no, no, no, no—" a broken scream left ethan's lips as he hugged you tighter to his chest, his back heaving with repeated sobs. "don't leave me. don't leave me, please don't leave me, y/n," he begged you, pleading with a dying body for something akin to a miracle. ethan was begging something— a person or a god, it didn't matter —to keep you with him. but whoever he was begging to was cruel, because he received nothing. and ethan could only cry as he continued to beg.

the blanket was cold. ironic for its purpose, but that's all ethan could think about as he sat in the ambulance.

his family was dead. he was the last one alive, and maybe he would've felt better about if it he didn't continuously replay the image of the knife he wielded going into his mother's throat. or the sound of her drowning in her own blood before ethan heard his sister do the same.

he blamed it on the heightened senses.

they were retrieving your body now. they had to practically force ethan out first so that his wounds could be dealt with.

his emt was more than mildly surprised when she saw how his blood vessels were steadily healing. she gave him a bandage that he had to stitch up at the hospital (much to his chagrin). but ethan hadn't uttered a word ever since everything happened. his vocabulary didn't seem to stretch past just a few nods, shakes of his head, and grunts. his empty eyes couldn't even look up from the ground.

tara and sam were both getting patched up already. he guessed chad was doing the same, until he felt someone sit next to him with a sigh.

chad didn't say anything. he just sat with him, and maybe ethan appreciated that more.

"spider-man, huh?"

nevermind.

ethan could only nod once. he couldn't even manage a whole spiel on how he got bitten, or how he didn't want chad flaunting that his roommate was new york's friendliest hero. but chad understood that, because he only nodded in response. "nice."

silence enveloped the both of them as they sat next to each other in the ambulance. kirby passed by them on a stretcher, barely hanging on to her life, followed by three body bags. ethan almost turned away just at the sight of them, but he forced himself to look with angry tears slipping down his face.

he wished it was anyone but them. that whoever was behind the mask wasn't the very people ethan was trying to get away from, because it was different to have them be across the country instead of dead in a body bag. he was so full of anger towards them. for being so encompassed with revenge and vengefulness that it led to their own demise, that they hated ethan so much that they were willing to kill all his friends and him, that they resulted in your death. your lifeless body on the ground with a gruesomely made hole in your torso.

but then he saw the last stretcher come out, and his throat ran dry. it was you, attached to an oxygen mask and barely hanging on, but it was you.

#AUTHOR'S NOTE— posting this right before finals week lol but i hope you guys enjoyed! remember, there's still an epilogue so look out for that

#TAGLIST— @ethanlvndry , @iloveneilperry , @starsfilm , @goosenoggin , @aminatic , @wenvierismycomfort , @l5byrinth , @wroetoslut , @briefwinnerpersonaturtle , @oliviapopewannabe , @wzrlds , @raggedyoldwitch , @hotweeb , @marsyay78 , @valenftcrush , @bonkyandsteeb3000 , @bubs-world , @danis-stuff-is-here , @nuhteyam , @ravenstrueluv , @taeversity , @heartipods , @gcidrvsh , @theapulidooo , @volturi-girl-imagines , @duolingofanaccount , @buorke , @grxcisxhy-wp , @strangerdangerwrites , @mrslandryy , @michaelangdonsslut , @netey6m

A Little Salt, A Lotta Flirt - Chunkz

Summary: You're a special guest in ChefAsylum where you first met Darkest, Harry, and Chunkz.

Pairing: Chunkz x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Masterlist

You smile nervously at the camera as you step into the Footasylum kitchen. Your apron is tied, your ingredients are prepped, and your confidence is hanging on by a single, overcooked spaghetti strand.

You glance to the left.

Harry Pinero. Suave, tall, and he looks like he knows where the camera is at all times.

To the right?

Darkest. Mischievous smile, already sipping juice like he knows he's about to roast you within an inch of your life.

And in the middle...

Chunkz

May God have mercy on your soul.

He's smiling, dimples on full display, eyes locked on you like you're the actual main course. You immediately forget how to stand. 

Do legs bend? 

Are knees supposed to do this? 

Is this blood rushing to your face? 

Or did you just catch fire from the way he looked at you?

"Hi" You said.

Hi??? 

That's all you got???

Not "Hope you're hungry" or "Let's cook up some chemistry"?? 

Nah, just hi????

He leans back in his seat, eyes not leaving you for a second.

"You're looking like a whole Michelin star already" Chunkz said, voice smoother than the butter they have in store

Instant combustion.

You laugh awkwardly, a weird wheeze-cough hybrid that should honestly disqualify you from public life.

The kitchen lights were a little too bright. The cameras a little too close. Your nerves? Absolutely fried. You adjusted your clothes again for the third time, fidgeting with the strings like it was gonna save you.

As the camera started rolling, you heard laughter, the easy kind, the kind you always wished you could blend into.

And then, you heard him.

Chunkz's laugh, the very same rich, effortless, warm laugh. Like it belonged somewhere safe. Somewhere soft.

You peeked over your shoulder and instantly caught his eye. He was already looking at you. 

Not in a polite way. Not in a "Oh cool, new person" way. In a slow head-to-toe, bite-the-bottom-lip, lean-back-in-his-chair-because-he's-enjoying-the-view kinda way.

You looked away first. Obviously. You weren't built to survive that eye contact because what the fuck was that seriously? Who holds that eye contact for long and look really nonchalant about it like it was something normal for him?

"Alright! Today's special chef" Harry announced, gesturing to you. 

"--is gonna be cooking for these three legends!" Harry added.

Harry Pinero clapped once followed by Darkest and Chunkz beside him, sarcastic and loud. 

"Hope you can cook, man. Otherwise, this is gonna be a hostile environment" Harry said.

"Don't watch him. Just make sure my plate's bigger than his" Darkest said as he smiled over his drink. 

And Chunkz?

Chunkz didn't say anything at first.

Just gave you that slow, lopsided grin.

"You ready for me, yeah?" Chunkz said, calmly.

You blinked, having a moment of malfunctioning.

For you?

FOR YOU???

"What? I mean not specifically you" You said, pretending to focus on the cutting board.

"Of course" Chunkz said, chuckled under his breath. 

You fucked up the general knowledge question but somehow got a decent ingredients and you got to work, pretending not to feel the heat of three sets of eyes following every move you made.

The first five minutes were manageable. Until the knife slipped and a tomato went flying across the counter. To be fair, the knife was horror.

You gasped. Harry leaned over to Darkest, stage-whispering loud enough for everyone to hear.

"That tomato just filed for early retirement" Harry said, looking offended like he was the tomato itself.

Darkest choked on his water and Chunkz was just laughing, forehead resting against his hand like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Don't worry" Chunkz said, his voice way too soft for this chaotic environment. 

"Everyone needs a little warming up" Chunkz added.

And then, looking you dead in the eye.

"I'm patient. So, take your time, beautiful" Chunkz said.

"Yeah, lost your mind" Darkest said next to him as he laughed.

You nearly dropped the knife next.

You pretend to be unbothered. Cool. Chill. Unfazed but your hands are shaking like you're about to defuse a bomb instead of stirring curry.

"Why you holding the spoon like that? It's not a microphone" Darkest said as he clocked it immediately.

"They're singing for help" Harry said, without missing a beat. 

You try to flip them off with your eyes. Doesn't work.

"Don't worry, I got you. I'll be your sous chef... or your husband. Whichever works" Chunkz  said softly and grins. 

WHO ALLOWED HIM TO SAY THAT???

"Oh my god, he's actually moving mad" Harry said, gasping dramatically as he low-key smacked Darkest.

You dropped the spoon, It clangs like it's exposing you.

You are now operating on auto-pilot. You can feel him watching as you cook, which is fantastic because nothing says sexy like stress-sweating while chopping onions.

Then he appears next to you. Like... right next to you.

Did he teleport?? 

How did he get there so fast?? 

When did the laws of physics stop applying to him??

"Need a hand?" he asked, moving to your side without waiting for an answer. His shoulder brushed yours, just enough for you to feel the heat.

You tried to focus on the pan, you tried so hard.

Sir.

Sir, you might need a therapy.

"That smells nice" Chunkz murmurs, eyes flicking to your face.

"And the food's decent too" Chunkz added as he leaned down, pretending to inspect your work.

"Seasoning's good" Chunkz said lowly, so only you could hear.

"But you're looking better" Chunkz added.

You whipped your head around to glare at him, scandalized but he was already smirking, knowing exactly what he was doing.

HE NEEDS TO BE STOPPED.

YOU ARE BLUSHING SO HARD YOU MIGHT COOK YOURSELF.

Darkest caught it.

"God forbid you let them cook in peace, bruv" Darkest called out.

"Man's tryna be the side dish" Darkest added with a laugh.

"Don't worry about me, man" Chunkz said with a smug smile.

When you finally started putting the dish together. Slightly less clumsily because your inner monologue has officially left the building.

When the food was finally plated, you wiped your hands on your apron, heart hammering.

Eventually, food gets made. Somehow.

Plated, served, looking halfway edible.

You step back, breathing like you just ran a marathon.

This was it, judgement day.

Darkest took the first bite. Chewed thoughtfully.

"Okay... okay..." Darkest said, nodding slowly. 

"This is edible, I'm genuinely shocked" Darkest added.

"Don't even try it, this is nice" Harry said as he shoved him playfully. 

They argued for a bit, in the way guys do when they don't know how to give real compliments.

But Chunkz? Chunkz just watched you, swirling his fork lazily through his food without taking a bite yet.

You raised an eyebrow.

"You scared?" You teased, finally feeling a little bit brave.

Chunkz grinned.

"Nah" Chunkz said, leaning forward on his elbows, gaze heavy. 

"Just savoring the view before I tuck in" Chunkz added.

You blinked.

"Oh no, get him a leash" Darkest said as he coughed violently into his napkin. 

"Signing his life away, mad" Harry said as he just shook his head, pretending to fill out imaginary marriage papers on his plate. 

Chunkz just stared at you, fork swirling dramatically through the rice.

"I haven't even tried it yet" Chunkz said.

"I'm still full from watching you all day" Chunkz added.

EXCUSE. ME.

You choked on air. 

"Someone take his mic, man" Darkest mutters 

"Man's flirting like he's trying to get tax benefits" Harry said as he grabs his phone like he's live-tweeting. 

Chunkz shrugs, still looking at you.

"I'm just saying" Chunkz said, softer now. 

"You walk into the kitchen looking like that, of course I'm hungry" Chunkz added.

Your brain went. blown fuse. rebooting. system not found.

But for once, they didn't shout. They didn't ruin it. They just let you two... sit there. Eyes locked. Playing with fire.

Chunkz finally lifted his fork, took a bite and let out a noise that made your entire soul combust.

"Yeah" Chunkz said, eyes twinkling. 

"You're dangerous" Chunkz added. 

After filming wrapped and the cameras stopped rolling. The crew packed up. You're pretending to clean just to delay leaving. Harry and Darkest wandered off somewhere, giving you a suspicious amount of space.

You lingered by the counter, pretending to tidy up. Chunkz came up behind you, close enough to feel the warmth of his body but not quite touching but it felt like personal space is now a myth

"You did good" Chunkz said.

"Real good, impressed me" Chunkz added.

"Thanks, you weren't too bad at... distracting me" You said with a smile, looking down.

"Let me make it up to you then" Chunkz said as he let out a small smile.

"You free after this?" Chunkz asked casually, almost too casual.

"Depends, why?" You said as you glanced over your shoulder, heart stuttering.

"Thinking maybe... we skip the cameras next time. You cook for me proper, no distractions" Chunkz said as he shrugged, smiling like he already knew the answer.

You tried to play it cool. Tried so hard but you turned too fast and bumped into him.

And he didn't move back. He just stood there. Close enough that you could smell the faint trace of his cologne, something fresh and warm and way too unfair.

"You down?" Chunkz asked again, voice low.

"Depends" You said, pretending to think. 

"You still gonna flirt with me the whole time?" You asked with a genuine smile.

"Babe, if you think this was flirting.." Chunkz said, stepping closer, voice dropping

"Wait until there's no cameras" Chunkz said as his grin returned, wider this time.

You swallowed hard. 

 He pulled out his phone, tapping it against your arm. 

"Put your number in, I'll send you a proper invite. Dress code.. cute aprons only" Chunkz said.

 You laughed, taking the phone. Chunkz grinned, slow and real.

"You bringing the same game you brought today?" You asked teasingly.

"Better" Chunkz said. 

"Tonight, I'm bringing dessert too" Chunkz added pointing to himself with a smirk.

You were seconds away from saying something stupid like "YES I WILL BEAR YOUR CHILDREN" instead you blacked out. Emotionally. Spiritually. Thermally.

You nodded, weakly. Because speech has abandoned you.

You knew exactly what he meant and when he brushed his fingers lightly against yours like casual and like it didn't mean anything, you knew you were completely finished.

- end -

Hello lovelies!!! Actually? No notes today, just the same reminder.

I hope y'all have an amazing day, absolute love and guidance.

As I said everytime, send in some request and ideas!!

sfw hcs, nate archibald.

summary: nate and sfw hcs!

warnings: not yet proofread!

notes: sorry for the inactivity but i plan on this being my first comeback post aka i’m returning very soon! stay tuned for my halloween event 🤭

The original and best golden retriever boyfriend out there.

He’s so obsessed with you, literally worships the ground you walk on.

It took some time for the two of you to finally get together, as you were worried about Blair’s reaction, but she ended up being supportive, since you were happy.

He loves spoiling you but hates when you spoil him. He’ll buy you anything you want or ask for but as soon as you spend even a dollar on him, he’ll insist on paying you back or buying you something in return.

His favourite date with you isn’t some expensive restaurant, he just loves when he gets to come over to your house and order takeout while watching a movie.

That being said, he doesn’t mind going out to a fancy place if you ask. Of course, he insists on paying though.

Whenever he’s having family issues and needs to get away, he always goes to you for comfort and a place to stay until he’s back on his feet.

Speaking of family issues, even though he doesn’t always know how to voice his appreciation, you’re always there to step up and defend him against his father or anyone else whenever he can’t.

Your family adores him and constantly asks about him, he’s literally the most respectful boyfriend you could’ve asked for.

Nate definitely loves wearing couples costumes during Halloween or having a sleepover and wearing matching pyjamas during Christmas, even though he pretends it’s silly.

In conclusion, this man loves you so much and sees you as his lifetime partner, you’re just so special to him.

taglist: @emryb @l5byrinth @hayleysimp @edb954

in your arms

pairing: trent alexander arnold x reader

summary: cuddling with trent after he comes home from training

warnings/contains: fluff, kisses, just fluffiness

a/n: everyone i apologise for not writing my requests for finnick yet im such an awful perfectionist so i rewrite a LOTTT and sometimes completely delete everything and start over. anyways i was reading trent fics and just had the urge to write for him so here’s this. it’s so bad but i wanted to give you guys something while you wait 😚 again im so so sorry

WHEN arriving home after the long training, Trent was utterly worn out. He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he stepped foot in the bedroom, letting out a yawn. You were laying in bed, already waiting for him to come home, “Hi, handsome.”

The boyish smile that graced his face because of your comment made you feel like the happiest person alive. He made his way over to your side of the bed. “Hey, gorgeous,” He responded, dropping his bag on the floor. From the look on your boyfriend’s face you could see how exhausted he was. You patted the spot beside you on the bed, “C’mere.” And Trent obeyed, not wasting even a millisecond. After you pulled the duvet over the two of you, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in closer.

Your lover took in your scent before he let out a contented sigh. Trent loved nights like these, because with you in his arms, what more did he need. “I missed ya.” He mumbled with his eyes closed, resting his head on top of your own. Your legs intertwined with his underneath the sheets, “I missed you too. How was training?”

“Good, good.” Trent responded, placing a kiss on the top of your head. You hummed in response , your fingers finding their way in his hair as they started to play with it. You look up at him and placed a kiss on the tip of his nose, earning a giggle from the man. He mirrors your action, then places one on your cheek, and soon he’s peppering your entire face with kisses.

Giggles leave your lips as Trent proceeds to kiss every single part of your face, whispering sweet nothings as he does so.

Arcade date

Pairing: Gotak x GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff 🎀

Warnings: none, just teasing and soft moments

Summary: You wait for him outside the arcade, and he shows up late—with snacks and that smug little smile of his.

You were leaning against the wall outside the arcade, arms crossed, trying to look unimpressed—even though your phone said he was fifteen minutes late. Typical.

Then, finally, he showed up. Hoodie half-zipped, bag of snacks in one hand, the most unapologetic smirk on his face.

“Wow,” you said flatly. “Nice of you to show up.”

“I brought chips,” he replied, as if that made up for everything.

You took the bag anyway, muttering, “You’re lucky I was craving these.”

He leaned in a little, just close enough for you to catch the faint scent of his cologne. “You’re lucky I showed up at all. I almost stayed in bed.”

“Should’ve,” you shot back. “Would’ve saved me the trouble.”

He grinned. “Liar. You missed me.”

You turned away, cheeks warming, pretending to examine a crack in the sidewalk. “Whatever.”

Gotak just chuckled under his breath and bumped your shoulder lightly. “You’re so dramatic when you’re flustered.”

“I’m not flustered.”

“You are. It’s cute.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he suddenly grabbed your hand—just like that, no warning—and started pulling you toward the arcade entrance. His hand was warm, steady. You didn’t pull away.

“I got a handful of coins,” he said, proudly. “So prepare to lose in every single game.”

“Oh please, I’m gonna wipe the floor with you.”

“You say that now.” He looked back at you, eyes gleaming. “But we both know you let me win when I pout.”

You scoffed, but smiled.

The lights inside the arcade were flashing in every direction—neon blues, reds, greens—and the place smelled like buttered popcorn and cheap carpet. It was loud too, packed with clinking tokens and kids yelling, but none of that really mattered.

Gotak still hadn’t let go of your hand.

“Alright,” he said, tossing a coin up and catching it. “Let’s start with something easy so you don’t cry when I win.”

You scoffed. “You talk too much for someone who’s about to lose.”

“Ohhh,” he grinned. “Talk like that and you’re cute? Dangerous combo.”

You rolled your eyes but followed him to the racing games. He shoved two coins into the slot, plopped down in the driver’s seat next to you, and shot a side glance like he was already planning his victory speech.

“Don’t cry when I lap you,” he said, gripping the wheel.

“You wish,” you said, already buckling in.

The race started—and for the first few seconds, you were ahead. Gotak narrowed his eyes, leaning forward in focus. He bumped your car. You bumped his harder. He started fake yelling.

“You’re actually evil.”

You laughed. “Drive better then!”

He did win, but only by a fraction of a second. He pumped his fists like he’d won an Olympic gold. “Victory tastes like salt and broken dreams,” he announced proudly, holding a dramatic hand to his chest.

“Victory tastes like ego,” you said, but you were smiling.

Gotak slung an arm around your shoulders casually, like he’d done it a million times. “Alright. One more game. And if I win again… you owe me a prize.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What kind of prize?”

He leaned down just a little, smirk crooked. “Surprise me.”

You shoved him away with a laugh, but the way your heart jumped said maybe you wouldn’t mind losing again.

You both stood in front of the claw machine next, where a ridiculous number of tiny plushies sat in a jumbled heap. Gotak cracked his knuckles, looking way too confident.

“You’re not getting anything,” you replied, arms crossed. “These machines are rigged.”

You watched as he dropped a token in and gripped the controls like his life depended on it. The claw descended, wobbled, and somehow—by some miracle—actually grabbed a small pink dinosaur. It held on just long enough to drop it perfectly into the chute.

Gotak gasped. “Witness my power.”

You blinked. “No way. No freaking way.”

He picked up the plush and handed it to you with an exaggerated bow. “For you, my loser.”

You didn’t even think. You just stepped forward, grabbed his hoodie, and kissed him.

It wasn’t dramatic, not slow or planned—it was quick and flustered and warm. You pulled back just enough to see the stunned look on his face.

“That’s your prize,” you mumbled.

Gotak stood there for a second, eyes wide, blinking like someone had just reset his brain.

Then he grinned. “I was gonna ask for a soda. That was way better.”

You shoved the plush at him, already turning away to hide the way your face was heating up, but he followed close behind, bumping your shoulder, still grinning like an idiot.

“Hey,” he whispered, voice softer now. “Wanna lose again?”

changed my theme !

REMINISCE - 박 후민

genre sorta angst (w happy ending) , park humin x reader

cw spoilers for whc2 (takes place after ep8)

word count 1.9k

note i hope u like it and if u do, say thank you jiya because she took the burden of proofreading this

YOU FOUND YOURSELF HERE OFTEN. You stared longingly at the flower shop as you sat on the curb across the shop. You sat there, foolishly expecting for him to walk by the shop coincidentally. And perhaps, when he does, you’d share a glance from a distance and you’d be satisfied. It’s blissful to imagine it, but its fruition still scares you. 

“Are you fucking depressed or something?” 

You look up to see Seongje’s contemptuous smirk as he blocked the light from the streetlight, “No. It would take a lot more for me to be depressed.” You moved aside by habit, despite the fact that there was plenty of space. 

“Our only source of money is gone, that can’t be good for you.” He said as he sat down next to you on the curb. He was right, of course, but there was an underlying sense of relief you felt when you recalled that Na Baekjin was finally defeated. 

“Fuck that shit, dude. I’ll get a scholarship and get the hell out of this shithole.” 

Seongje blinked as he took in your words. He lit up a cigarette silently, as if in thought before turning towards you speaking again, “Don’t tell me you’ve been waiting for the union to collapse.” 

“Not really.” You said at first but one pointed look from him and you sighed and spilled  your true feelings, “I wasn’t particularly fond of or dependent on the union. Since Seowon joined the union, I had to join if I wanted to survive school.” 

“So, what now? You’re gonna study hard?” He said as he offered you his cig which you graciously took. 

As the smoke clouded your vision, you spoke, “Yeah. And you?” 

“I got the offer to lead the union.” 

You paused and stared at him before looking away, “Don’t accept the offer. Choi is gonna fuck you up at the slightest slip up.”

“Relax. I am not going to.” He took the cigarette from you and brought it to his lips, “I am going to Jeju.” 

“For what?” You asked almost immediately, curious as to why he would suddenly leave for Jeju.

He shrugged, “It’s a romantic place.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Seongje chuckled as he exhaled, smoke enveloping the two of you. A small smile slipped onto your face as serenity hung in the air. You relished in the knowledge that there will be no more bloody knuckles or late night visits to the pharmacy. You could simply be a teenager like you’d hoped to be. 

You found yourself staring at the shop once again, hoping you’ll catch a glimpse of him. 

“Isn’t this Park Humin’s neighbourhood? I thought you were over him.” 

You shook your head, choosing to be honest because you knew Seongje could see right through it, “I thought so too. And I wish it were true.” You looked up at the sky, barely able to see the stars. It was a shame that they were hidden by the clouds and smoke that covered this city. You wished to be able to see them twinkle. 

Seongje looked at you as if he was aware of why you were here, sitting at this curb, all alone. He flicked the cigarette bum on the ground and turned towards you, “I am scared of swimming.” 

“Wait, what? Then why the fuck are you going to Jeju?” 

“I’ll try to swim. I’ll either learn it, or die trying.” 

You looked at him incredulously, “Are you crazy?”

“I enjoy beating people, what do you think?” He said, “besides, if I never try it, I’ll never know if I can be good at it or not.” 

“And if you drown?” 

“It really isn’t that bad. Someone could help me up. Or I can just save myself.” 

“You’re too cocky for your own good.” You say, looking at the flower shop across you once again. 

Seongje gets up and brushes the dust off of his clothes, “You just need to be cocky enough,” he stretches his hand towards you, “Go see him.” 

You stare at his outstretched hand. You knew what he was talking about. ‘Go to him. Maybe it won’t be that bad.’ 

Except there is no hope for you, or so you believe. Maybe he will look at you with his loving gaze, but what if he looks at you in disdain? What if he walks past you, like a forgotten photograph while you’re still stuck in the frame? The ghost of what you had haunts your thoughts endlessly, and yet your feet don’t move. 

The ghost takes you back to the moment when you first met Humin. You were practically dozing off behind the counter, despite the bright sunlight streaming in through the window. You rested your head on your arms over the counter. 

The bell rang, indicating a customer but you were so drowsy, you barely noticed. A figure rushes inside the shop and you stay in your position, hoping for them to just leave (terrible employee behaviour). You could barely get a wink of sleep due to the sun, until you felt something blocking the rays and sighed contentedly. 

Except there are no curtains on the window. 

You immediately lift your head to see someone’s hand blocking the sunrays. You stare at the man in bewilderment as his eyes widen, as if he wasn’t expecting you to get up. He quickly apologizes as he stepped away from the counter, explaining that you seemed to need sleep. 

You looked away as the blood rushed onto your face, telling him it was alright. Once he walked away, you practically slammed your forehead on the counter of sheer embarrassment. 

You remembered when you clocked out later that day, he was waiting outside the shop. You were surprised to see him again, but he was quick to explain that he felt ‘sorry’ and wanted to make it up to you by getting some ice cream together. You were fully aware what he was playing at, and yet you played along. 

‘It really isn’t that bad.’ Seongje’s words ringed in your ears once again, and the realization dawned on you. You have nothing to lose. You might as well give it a shot.

You stand in front of the flower shop, your hand resting on the cold metal of the door knob. You inhale deeply as your fingers finally curl around the knob and you push it open. 

The familiar sound of the bell rang over your head as you entered the flower shop. The earthy, sweet aroma enters your nostrils as your gaze falls on the multiple bouquets in front of you. A warm yellow lights up the shop, just enough for you to be able to see. A bouquet of stargazer lilies caught your eye, reminding you of Humin once again. The way he would practically break his back to make sure he got you your favourite flowers. 

He would watch you carefully so as to gauge your reaction and would feel satisfied once he saw a smile spread over your face. Humin was observant when it came to you. He observed everything about you and tried his level best to bring a smile to your face, even if it meant embarrassing himself. 

That’s what you missed the most about Humin. You missed his presence, his touch and the comfort he brought you. You yearned for a glimpse of him, hoping that perhaps that would be able to calm your racing heart. But more than that, you missed the version of yourself he introduced to you. The version of you that was happy — truly happy. 

You decided to buy the bouquet and picked it up, despite the lingering feeling of disappointment. 

You knew he would never show up. What would change anyway? You were the one who chose to push Humin away for the union. You were the one who picked the union over him, so how could you be so shameless as to expect him to take you back? 

You turned around and placed the bouquet down on the counter and reached for your wallet to pay for it. You were just taking out the bills when you heard a familiar voice, “You finally came.” 

You looked up from your wallet to see Humin standing behind the counter. You felt as if your heart had stopped within your ribcage as you held onto the edge of the counter for support. He stood behind the counter, a small smile gracing his face as you stood in front of him. You suddenly felt self conscious, as if you felt he could see through your deepest fears. 

His eyes were still as beautiful as ever. He was just as starry eyed as you had remembered him to be. Yet, you were still reminded of the moment you watched tears spill out of his doe eyes. The moment when you caressed his face as he cried and when time froze for you. 

Humin smiled, “I could see you sitting on that curb from here. But, I never had the guts to come out and see you.” He sighed as he continued, “I am not sure if it matters, but I missed you.” 

Before you realised, your own eyes had started brimming up, “Humin..” Your words died on your tongue as you looked at him. Your tears blinded your view and you felt as if everything had come crumbling down on you. You had dreamt of this moment countless times, you had wondered what you would say to him when you finally saw him and now that he was in front of you, you could barely look at him. 

Humin walked out from behind the counter and hesitantly cupped your cheek, “Don’t cry.” 

His words only made you cry harder. You selfishly wanted to lean into his touch, to relish into this feeling of having him close once again.

Humin gently wrapped an arm around and before you knew it, you found yourself pulling him closer. You embraced him like your life depended on it. His scent clouded your mind, and you realised just how much you had missed the comfort within his arms. Your tears stained the fabric of his shirt, your sniffles muffled against his shoulder as you finally spoke, “I am sorry. I should’ve never- I should’ve never let you go,” you sniffled, “I missed you so much.” 

You felt his hand gently rub your back as you finally pulled away and looked into his eyes. Humin smiled again, wiping away the tears with his thumb, “It’s okay.” 

You shook your head, “It’s not. What I did wasn’t-” 

“-okay.” He finished for you, “Except it doesn’t matter.”

“You can’t say that. It does matter. I made a mistake.” 

“You’ve punished yourself a lot over this.” He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, “Isn’t that enough? I have no plans to let you go now that you’re here.” 

“I should make it up to you.” You said as you shook your head, the tears drying up on your face. 

Humin chuckled, “Sure. You have all the time in the world to do that.” 

As you walked out from the shop with him after closing, you looked up at the sky one more time. The clouds seemed to have drifted away, revealing the moon and a few stars in the sky.

Humin watched as you looked up at the sky, his fingers entangling with yours, “The moon is so beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” His gaze turns to you while yours is still fixed on the night sky. 

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.” Your eyes met and a grin creeped onto your face. 

The clouds had drifted away. The moon illuminates the once dark sky, and something about it feels so familiar to you. 

It is a beautiful night to be in love.

FINALLY i’m done with my testweek you can’t believe how happy i am rn 😝 anyway i will start writing the requests!!

also i added some more people for who i write for, so after im done with the requests i will open them again and you can request for the new ones (beta squad, jude bellingham, trent alexander arnold)

hELLO are requests open? 😽😽 if it's okie, i'd like to request an ahn sooho × reader fic ( I HAVEN'T SEEN ANY FIC OF HIM I'M SO SAD 😭 )

Hero | Ahn Sooho

my first sooho fic :] thank you anon! also here's to @slytherinshua and hannie , no angst this time

Meeting Ahn Sooho was the most unexpected occurrence in your life. It was almost like he was your hero.

You had your earpieces in, music blasting as you read the book in your hand. It wasn't every day that you were this interested in a book. The words seemed to swirl in your mind as you imagined each word, taking in each detail of every movement of every character.

That was until you were knocked down, hard. Your bottom slammed onto the concrete floor as your book fell onto the floor right after you, covered in soda. Your right earpiece went flying out of your ear, song stopping. Your eyes widened as you looked at your book, the words blending in with the soda, unclear.

You looked up, eyebrows furrowed as you looked at the culprit who had one hand extended out while the other was at the back of his neck.

"Ahn Sooho?" You asked, like a question, as he looked at you in surprise. "You know me?" Sooho replied as you looked at him, scoffing.

"Why wouldn't I?" You responded as you took his hand, standing up as you looked at the stain on your white uniform, starting to feel annoyed by your situation. "The infamous Ahn Sooho who nearly got his ass beaten by the baseball team over a girl. You're a playboy aren't you?".

Sooho's eyes widened as he took off his red jacket, revealing his white uniform that was unbuttoned to show his red work uniform.

"I wouldn't call myself a playboy, maybe everyone's just attracted to my charm?" Sooho responded as he winked, placing the jacket over your shoulders before picking up the soaked book and placing it on the locker near the window.

"I'll replace your book. By tomorrow, the same book will arrive at your table, sergeant!" Sooho said as he saluted you, picking up the empty soda can and continuing to run down the hallway.

You looked at the jacket on your shoulders, putting your arms through it as you zipped it, covering the stain on your uniform.

Sooho delivered his promise. You entered the classroom and walked to your seat near the middle as you saw the same exact book, this time with a sticky note on the first page.

"I'm sorry for bumping into you and ruining your uniform and book. I still feel like this isn't enough to make up for it. Would you want to eat lunch together? I'm in Class 1!" The messy handwriting read as you couldn't help but form a small smile on your lips as you grazed the yellow paper with your fingertips. Why was he like a puppy?

The bell for lunch rang, and unlike yesterday, you found yourself making your way to class 1, walking the back door to see Ahn Sooho fast asleep at his desk. His head rested on a pink bunny pillow, and his chest rose and fell deeply. You contemplated as you held the washed jacket in your arms, wondering if you should really wake the boy up.

"Ahn Sooho, it's lunchtime... and there's a girl here waiting for you. Sooho, Sooho, Sooho, wake up," The boy sitting in front of Sooho turned and shook the boy awake as Sooho jolted awake, eyebrows furrowed as he squinted. The boy let out a big yawn as he turned in his chair to stretch, but turned to see you standing with his jacket, waiting for him.

"Oh! Were you waiting for me?" Sooho asked as he stood up from his seat, finally awake. You handed him the jacket as you bowed slightly, "Thank you for lending it to me. It was a big help."

Sooho waved it off as he responded, "It was nothing! Besides, it was my fault since I... you know... dropped the soda".

The both of you made your way to the cafeteria, taking trays of food as Sooho paid for yours too, taking a seat at a table near the corner.

"So what should we talk about?" Sooho asked as he took a spoonful of rice and shoved it into his mouth. He acted as if he'd been starved for a week. It'd be impossible to tell a beast from Sooho.

You hummed as you thought about it for a few seconds.

"What do you like to do after school?" You asked as you used your chopsticks to pinch a piece of kimchi, placing it into your mouth as the taste engulfed your tastebuds.

Sooho thought about it as he responded with a mouth full of food, causing several rice grains to drop from his mouth.

"I work part-time at a barbecue place, and I do deliveries on two days. I don't go home because I'm scared I'll fall asleep and miss school. I can't miss school," Sooho shared as he saw the curious look on your face as you placed a spoonful of soup in your mouth.

"Why can't you miss a day of school?" You asked as Sooho responded, "I need to graduate with a perfect attendance. My grandmother wants me to graduate with a perfect attendance, even if I don't end up going to college. So, what about you? What do you do after school?".

You picked at your food as you shared a little, "I go to cram school and then I go to help my grandparents at their bookstore. Their bookstore has a lot of books so I don't have to go far to get good selections. Cram school, is cram school. There's nothing special about it, just the 7pm to 10pm classes every day,".

Sooho laughed a little, making his eyes crinkle as he joked, "I guess we know which one of us will go to college".

You smiled a little as you scooped a spoonful of rice into your mouth, continuing your conversation with the boy.

To everyone around you, it seemed as if the both of you had just met after being apart for 10 years and were catching up on the many years you'd spent together before that. The both of you seemed to connect very well, talking about everything from games to food to stuff worrying you around the neighbourhood. It seemed like you'd finally found someone for you.

You walked down to the parking lot near the school as Sooho put on his helmet, his bag in the trunk below the seat. You were about to wave goodbye to him when he passed you a helmet, patting the seat behind him as he said, "You told me that the distance from the school to your cram school made it hard for you to eat properly. I'll send you to cram school from now on, so eat properly or I'll start packing you lunches like a cooking club member".

Your mouth was practically hanging open as he took the helmet from you, putting it onto your head as he slid the face shield down, tapping the helmet lightly as he ushered you to get on.

The wind felt comforting for some reason. You weren't sure if it was the weather, the vehicle or the boy with you, but your heart seemed to speed up as fast as the motorcyle as your arms were wrapped around the boy's waist, eyes wandering around as you looked at your surroundings curiously. It wasn't often that you'd get on a motorcycle and definitely not with Sooho.

It wasn't just you who felt the speed up of your heart, Sooho could feel your heart pounding on his back as his eyes were focused on the road, not wanting to injure either of you nor his motorbike. He drove with caution as he smiled to himself every time you saw something cool on the way, 'ooh'ing every time.

Sooho lifted the helmet from your head as your hair dropped down to your shoulders, some strands left, a mess on the top of your head. Sooho reached for the mess as he combed his fingers through your hair, making sure your hair was neat.

"Don't go around alone anymore. Byuksan Middle School might be an elite school, but the schools around us have scary students. If you need to go anywhere after school or after cram school, call me, and I'll pick you up. Don't wander alone anymore," Sooho said as he placed your bag on your shoulders. You look at him, wondering what this sudden feeling blooming in your chest.

You coughed as you excused yourself, cheeks red as you walked to the entrance of the cram school, turning to give the boy a small wave as you walked in, disappearing into the crowd of students. Sooho managed to give a small wave back as he kept the extra helmet in the seat storage, heading to start his delivery gig early so he could get back to the cram school by 10pm.

He was right on time. You excited your cram school as you waved goodbye to some friends you made as per Sooho's suggestion after the mini lunch date you both had. He was leaning on his motorbike, phone in hand as the LED lit his face blue, his eyes focused on the screen. The sound of students exiting seemed to catch his attention as he raised his head to meet eyes with you.

"Sooho? You're here?" You asked as Sooho took your bag from your shoulder, putting it back in the storage box as he reponded, "Why not? I told you I'd be here. My grandmother always says, 'Sooho! Don't let a girl walk by herself! Don't let her carry her own bag, and don't let her spend her own money!' So I'm kind of like... your hero? I'll save you anytime anything happens." Sooho mimicked his grandmother as you couldn't help but laugh at his horrible impersonation.

This became a daily routine as Sooho began to reserve the helmet only for you. He would never come late and would stay true to his word. He would buy you snacks if you had make-up classes at cram school, buy you dessert to go along with your school lunch, and always have an umbrella if the weather was down.

Sooho ran. His motorbike was outside your cram school while you were nowhere to be seen. He initially thought that maybe you had some extra work to do or someone held you up, but when he saw the familiar friends he saw you hanging out with many months ago, he couldn't stop himself.

"We haven't seen her since Physics class. Physics was at 9pm. She looked at her phone and suddenly left, saying she had an emergency. " Your friend informed Sooho as he started to feel tense.

"Which direction did she run to?" Sooho asked as your friends muttered amongst each other, trying to get a definite answer.

"She ran out and ran out the gate towards the Byuksan Alley," Your friend told him as the words 'Byuksan Alley' made him run towards that place as fast as he could.

"Sooho, can I tell you something?" You asked the boy as the both of you sat at lunch as per usual. It had become a norm over the past few months, and the both of you could be considered... best friends? What everyone knew was that both of you were insperable.

Sooho hummed as he looked at you, giving you his unwavering attention.

"I think, with everything happening between you, sieun and beomseok... beomseok sent some girls after me. They didn't do anything, but they said that I better watch out," You told Sooho as his face changed into one with anger. He turned to give the disgusting boy a glance as he responded with false calmness, "If anything ever happens with them, call me first".

Sooho turned the alley as he saw you on the floor, your uniform painted red as girls with white surgical masks on their face, uniform unbuttoned revealing black shirts and skirts at their knees, kicked you repeatedly. By their side, there were guys in school uniforms too, watching the violence as if it were some sick variety show. You were ambushed. You didn't expect them to find your number and threaten you with Sooho's life. You had no choice.

"Sooho!" You called out, trying to alert him in case he was in the area. He said he'd always save you, he will... right?

Sooho ran in, kicking the first guy in the chest, making him fall against the wall with a thud as he elbowed the next guy in the lungs, causing him to cough. Sooho took the chance to punch him in the face, not leaving him any time to recover. He then turned to the last guy, who looked at him, trembling. His eyeballs practically vibrated as Sooho walked up to him. The guy took off running, leaving the three confused girls.

"Baby, why did you run...?" The girl kicking you asked as she turned to see her boyfriend nowhere in sight, and her two friends' boyfriends on the floor, knocked out.

The three girls turned in horror as Sooho spoke, "Why would you do this to her? She didn't even do anything, and here you are, kicking her as if she did something to you. "

The three girls looked at each other as the middle one muttered, "Beomseok asked us to do it. He said that she told on us that we had smokes.".

Sooho scoffed. Just because a liar told them that she told on them for cigarettes? She didn't even know them, much less cared about whether they died early because of chemical sticks.

"Leave, and don't bother her again," Sooho said as he bent down to check your bloodied uniform. Your head had dirt marks from the shoes of the girls and your tears made the dirt coat your cheek. Sooho wiped the dirt off with his thumb as he smiled.

"I told you I'm your hero now, didn't I?"

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WOAH MY FIRST SOOHO FIC AND ITS LONG(?) WITH ALMOST NO ANGST OHMYGOD GASP OHMYGOD!!