Jung Hyeon-Jun Playing The Kid Version Of Ryeoun In Both Twinkling Watermelon And Weak Hero 2

JACK CHAMPION!!

it rains, it pours | finnick odair x f!reader

pairing: finnick odair x f!district 4 reader

summary: finnick consoles you after being trapped in the blood rain. based on this request.

warnings/tags: angst. fluff. general hunger games violence/lore. depictions of fear and anxiety. mentions of blood, murder, and death. annie doesn’t exist and mags was not reaped. some mutual pining. no description of body type, age, or race.

word count: 1.2k

a/n: hello! this is my first time writing finnick, & while i’m incredibly excited to add him to my repertoire, i’m also terrified lmao. it’s very short, so expect longer stories in the future. please be kind & patient with me while i learn my method of his characterization! any & all constructive feedback is always welcome.

You thought some of it may have seeped into your lungs.

Water. Just get to the water.

It didn’t matter that you had done this all before: suffered, fought, killed. The Capitol kept finding ways to surprise you. To terrify you. A cruel, never-ending cycle.

You were vaguely aware of the shouting voices that picked up once your blood-soaked group reached the beach. Most of them were drowned out by Johanna’s shrill expletives, or Wiress and her incessant tick-tock’s. But through it, you hazily made out the sound of your name being called. Repeated and strained as it echoed over the water you were frantically moving towards.

It was all your body knew how to do.

Keep moving.

Keep fighting.

You made it waist deep into the water, numbly unaware of the way your limbs were trembling and your breaths were heaving, before the source of your name calling was splashing in after you.

Closer, it was getting closer. It reached for you, grabbed at your sticky biceps, and attempted to shake you back to reality. It was in front of you, eyes still hazed with crimson, unable to decipher what exactly it was. Who it was.

But there was a familiarity in how they called your name, desperate now.

“Look at me. Hey, look at me, sweetheart. You’re alright.”

It was the first time he had spoken to you since the reaping. Even with the knowledge of Plutarch’s plan seeded in you both, there was a lingering rule between you: you simply didn’t speak anymore. Not since the blonde haired boy you knew so well stepped into that arena for the first time ten years ago, and came out a different person.

In fact, before the reaping — where he commanded you through gritted teeth and whispers to stay alive, no other information to follow — you weren’t even sure you could pinpoint the last time you had spoken to Finnick Odair.

Childhood friend turned victor.

Hopeful victor turned a shell of himself, his body no longer his own, sharp mind in constant torment under Snow’s ministrations.

Tormented man who abandoned home, abandoned you, even when it came time for your first sacrifice to the games.

You may as well have been strangers. And yet, no one in that arena, in all of Panem, knew you as well as he did. Not even the passage of lost time could change that fact. A lifetime of memories reduced to a singular moment.

“It just—it came out of nowhere.” You didn’t recognize your voice, nor the bloody reflection of yourself in the water.

How much more were you expected to endure before there was nothing left of you? Scattered pieces of the Capitol’s puzzle broadcasted for the entire country to consume, but never for you to discover again. Lost to the games.

“I know. I know, but you’re out. You’re safe. I need you to stay with me,” Finnick consoled, a rushed whisper. He meant stay lucid, of course. Don’t lose yourself, not yet. Not when we’re so close.

You thought he must have known every idea coursing through your head: where did it come from? Whose is it? When would it come again?

His firm hold on your arms was the only thing keeping you grounded, keeping you sane. You allowed his words to soak into your skin, praying they would reach deeper than blood. To the bone. To your core, where you knew a cause greater than yourself was just beyond your fingertips. You blinked once. Twice. Forcing the haze out of your vision, and finally, seeing him clearly.

Sea-green eyes blown wide under furrowed brows. Golden curls matted with sweat and dirt. Precious lips, plush and full, downturned. Familiar. Safe. You felt your throat begin to burn with rising tears.

“Get it off,” you croaked, eager to push forward. “Please just – just help me get it off.”

He didn’t think twice, ushering you further into the water until it hit your chest. He stood at your rear, instructing you calmly to tilt your head back until it reached your hairline, and you complied. Never doubting for a moment he would catch you if you fell.

He placed one hand at your waist; stable, although tentative. The other began to work tenderly through your knotted hair, tainting the cerulean water around you with the evidence of rain. You kept your eyes squeezed shut, focusing on your breath, and the soothing touch of his fingers against your scalp.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered, a futile attempt to shield you from the cameras that were undoubtedly pointed your way. He must have heard the way you were struggling to keep your breath from sputtering through your nostrils. “Don’t give them the satisfaction.”

“I’m trying,” you whimpered, eyes still shut. His fingers worked around your ears now, over your forehead, careful not to pour any over your mouth and nose. You focused on that; the tactile cue of someone who wanted to help you, who cared about you.

“I know,” he asserted. “And you’re gonna keep trying. Hold your breath—”

You obeyed, taking in a deep gulp of air and letting the weight of your skull fall into his palm. He lowered you into the water at your set pace, and for a moment, the world was quiet. Still.

You could pretend you were back in four, on your own shoreline, familiar grains of sand, and the sound of children's laughter. That the man cradling you below the water was once just a boy and you a girl. And maybe, just maybe as time went on, and the boy became a man and you a woman, the affliction of admiration could be acted on. Perhaps it would even be reciprocated, wanted. A life, no matter how tedious and meaningless to those with more money and power, could continue in isolated bliss. Where there were no sacrifices. No torments.

No games.

You shot up from the water with a gasp, frantically wiping the droplets from your eyes, and turning to face the man behind you. Finnick stood as he had before, shrouded in concern, eyes searching you as if he was looking for the next bit on the verge of breaking. There was no discernment or contempt. He wasn’t running from you or avoiding you. He was there. Alive and breathing. And suddenly, years of resentment faded with the realization that, nowadays, people had so little.

But you still had him.

You heard the momentary breath of surprise evade him when you lurched forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face into his neck. A beat, and then, he flushed your chest against him, hugging you around the waist. A bit more snug than he ever had before. The water made it easy, keeping your bodies afloat while you clung to one another, a singular solace in a hellish cage. When you closed your eyes then, you could feel that fantasy come to life. And for just a moment longer, you indulged in it.

“Please don’t leave me,” you muttered into his skin, voice trembling and arms squeezing him closer. “I can’t do this alone.”

Finnick shook his head earnestly. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, and you believed him. He pulled back then, only enough to find your eyes, a similar urgency in his. He leaned forward, touching his forehead to yours. You let him. “We finish this together, alright?”

You felt the weight the size of the world fall off your chest, a forgotten feeling taking its place.

Hope.

“Together.”

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Future Promises

Dae-ho x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: violence. blood and injury. murder. character death (not reader).

Summary: When a fight breaks out in the bathroom, Y/N gets caught in the middle of it. When the eliminated players are announced, Dae-ho panics.

Requested: Yes

Squid Game Masterlist

The divide in the room was clear. Each side equal in terms of numbers yet Y/N could feel the murderous gazes from the ‘O’ side of the room. While others around her talked to one another, trying to ease some of the tension, Y/N sat on her own. She wasn’t too far away from the rest of the group but she was far enough away to be able to breathe. 

For the entire duration of her time in the games, she didn’t have a single change to calm her body down. Even when she slept she was always on high alert. Taking a step away from everyone was what was best for her right now– especially when she needed to prepare to defend herself if it came to that. Y/N didn’t miss the way each player had received a glass bottle and a metal fork with their meal when they hadn’t before. Her fork was securely concealed in her jacket. 

Y/N rested her head on the cool tile wall and sighed. The room seemed much larger now compared to when she had woken up only days ago– though to her it seemed like weeks. There were only one hundred players left out of four hundred and fifty six and somehow Y/N was one of them. Though she might not have been if it wasn’t for one particular person. 

Kang Dae-ho was someone Y/N never thought she would see in these games. They weren’t exactly friends before the games, only worked at the same part-time job. But seeing him was like a breath of fresh air. If it wasn’t for him, Y/N was sure that she would have been killed during the mingle game. The whole time, he had kept her hand firmly clasped in his. When the final round called for two players, he didn’t hesitate to pull her along to a room, pushing her in first before himself. The fear Y/N had felt during that game– if Dae-ho hadn’t been by her side she would have froze up and never left that rotating platform. 

“Y/N,” a familiar voice called to her before she felt the warm and comforting presence sitting beside her. “What are you doing over here on your own?”

Y/N opened her eyes, not realising she had closed them. “I needed to step away for a bit.”

Dae-ho’s thigh pressed against hers. “Tell me next time. I didn’t know where you went.”

Y/N turned to him and offered him a small tight lipped smile. “I’m okay.”

Dae-ho didn’t return her smile, already knowing that it wasn’t genuine. From where his hands were resting in his lap, Y/N watched as they twitched– hesitantly decided if they should reach out to her. Taking the initiative, Y/N held her hand out. A small flash of surprise appeared on Dae-ho’s face before he gently held her hand in his, linking their fingers together. 

The corner of Y/N’s lips tugged up in a smile as she rested her head against the cool tile wall. “I don’t think I’ve told you but I’m glad you’re here. Well, not here exactly– but here with me. Seeing someone I recognised made me feel…safer. So thank you.”

Dae-ho’s gaze was fixated on their clasped hands. “Don’t thank me. Honestly seeing you here made me feel safer even though I hate that you are trapped here too.”

“We both made a stupid choice by phoning that number,” Y/N said. “When we get out of here, let’s not phone any strange numbers in the future.”

A quiet laugh emitted from Dae-ho and caused Y/N to smile. “Agreed.”

A silence washed over them but it was comfortable and if Y/N closed her eyes, she could pretend that they were in the break room at their shitty job. Instead of bidding goodbye at the end of the day like she usually did, she would take the risk and ask him for dinner. Finally doing what her friend had demanded of her when she first started the job and asking her attractive coworker out.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Y/N said, standing to her feet, her hand slipping out of Dae-ho’s. 

“I’ll go with you,” Dae-ho offered, quickly standing with her. 

“To the women’s bathroom?” Y/N asked, a soft chuckle leaving her lips. 

For a short moment, Dae-ho seemed embarrassed but it quickly seemed to fade. “I’ll keep watch outside.”

A small genuine smile tugged at her lips as she rested her hands on his biceps. “I’ll be fine. You don’t need to protect me, you’ve done that enough already.”

“I’m sorry,” a woman a little older than Y/N said. Y/N glanced at the woman’s number. Player 91. “I overheard you going to the bathroom. We could go together, safety in numbers. I noticed some other women go there not too long ago.”

Y/N turned her attention back to Dae-ho. “See, I’ll be fine.”

There seemed to be nothing that could convince Dae-ho but the moment she leant up and pressed a soft kiss against his cheek all rational thoughts swimming through his mind seemed to evaporate. Y/N laughed and gently trailed her hands down his arms to his hands, offering him a comforting squeeze. “I’ll be fine.”

Slowly, Dae-ho nodded. “Be safe.”

As she took a step back from Dae-ho, he held onto her hands until she was too far to comfortably hold onto them. Y/N allowed her hands to slip from his but the moment his warmth fell away, she craved it once more. Y/N pushed her hands into the pockets of her jacket and offered Dae-ho one final parting smile before following the woman to the bathroom. 

***

Y/N watched as the water dripped from her chin back into the sink as she sighed. She could only hope that not everyone was bright enough to realise they could freely harm anyone that opposes their vote and in the morning they would be able to vote and return home. 

“So you voted to return home?” a woman said, approaching Y/N. 

Y/N didn’t bother to look at the woman as she answered. “Clearly, and anyone with a few brain cells would realise that is the best option for everyone here.”

The woman hummed. “Didn’t you vote to continue the games during the first vote?”

“I did,” Y/N answered. “It was a selfish decision and I regret it.”

“What changed your mind?” the woman questioned. 

“After nearly dying during the second game, I realised that risking my life for money isn’t worth it,” Y/N said, her grip tightening on the skin as Dae-ho’s face flushed in her mind. 

During the six-legged pentathlon, their small group of five was already decided until Jun-hee came along asking to join their team. The moment she found out the younger girl was pregnant, Y/N didn’t hesitate to join another team. 

Dae-ho insisted that he should be the one who left but Y/N refused and found another team, she was one of the first to complete it with one second to spare. For hours she had sat on her bed watching the door waiting for Dae-ho to enter, her anxiety rising when he never entered. When he finally did, Y/N’s heart rate still refused to drop. From then she realised that no matter how much money she would get if she continued to play, it wasn’t worth nearly losing Dae-ho and the other friends she had made. But just the thought of losing Dae-ho sent Y/N into a panic she didn’t see coming. 

“So those who died during those games didn’t matter to you? Only your life matters?” the woman said, continuing to pester Y/N. 

Finally Y/N turned and faced the woman. “Realistically those people would have died anyway. If I wasn’t in these games then nothing would change, someone else would be here in my place and everything would turn out exactly the same.” Y/N glanced at the blue patch on the woman’s jacket. “Seems like you don’t seem to care if people die or not considering you are too fucking selfish and you want more money.”

“Careful how you speak to me,” the woman said. “Once all of you who voted to leave are gone, us who voted to stay will each have over 800 million won each.” Slowly, the woman raised her hand, a silver fork shining in the dim lighting. The fork was pressed  against Y/N’s neck as she looked at the woman standing before her. Despite the situation, Y/N didn’t feel intimidated by the women at all, she was shorter and  was physically weaker than Y/N. 

“I’m only going to say this once,” the woman said, lowering her voice. “Change your vote, continue the games. If you do, I will make sure you get through to the end and get your share of the money.”

No matter how hard she tried, Y/N failed to contain the laughter that slipped past her lips. “I’d believe it if you weren’t threatening me right now. How am I meant to believe you won’t backstab me in the next game?”

The fork was pressed deeper against her neck and Y/N winced. “You need to trust me,” the woman said. 

“Trust a woman who is one movement away from plunging a damn fork into my neck? I think I’ll naively believe that someone will come to their senses and change their vote by morning,” Y/N replied. “Now take that fork away from my neck.”

“Or what?” the woman asked, an unhinged smile spreading across her face. 

“The group that voted to stay are currently outnumbered in this bathroom, five to nine. If you fight, you’ll be overpowered,” Y/N answered as the two other women who voted to stay slowly walked up to join the quiet altercation. 

“You’ll never win,” the woman said, the fork leaving Y/N’s neck. “We may be outnumbered but you have more elders on yours, one punch to the head and they’ll be out cold.”

As Y/N glanced around at the other women in the bathroom, she noticed that most of them were older and looked as if they could not handle themselves in a fight. Y/N sighed. “Do you really care about getting a bit of extra money? If we vote to leave now we still each get a large amount of money. What if you die in the next game? Your last thoughts will be ‘why didn’t I leave when I had the chance?’”

“You don’t know a thing about me!” the woman exclaimed. 

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned back to the sink. “I know that you’re an idiot if you chose to stay in this hellhole.”

The woman didn’t respond verbally. Instead she gripped the back of Y/N’s jacket, yanking her away from the sink. As Y/N stumbled on her feet, the woman sent a punch to her jaw, knocking off her balance completely. 

The moment Y/N’s back hit the floor, hell broke loose as people began fighting one another. It was just as the woman said, there were a lot more women who were physically weaker on Y/N’s side. Almost immediately Y/N watched as a few of them had already hit the floor, a pool of blood forming below them. Y/N didn’t take long to get back to her feet. Y/N wasn’t a particular skilled fighter, she had learnt basic self defense and had never had a reason to use it. Just as Y/N thought, the woman was physically weaker than Y/N as she easily overpowered the woman, gripping tightly onto her hair. 

“Just vote to leave!” Y/N yelled. “How stupid can fifty people be?”

The woman struggled to get out of Y/N’s grip. “I’ll vote to leave when all of you are dead!” she snapped. 

Y/N held tightly onto the woman’s hair as she threw her down on the floor. Before Y/N could think, she grabbed the fork concealed in her pocket and jammed it into the woman’s shoulder. The woman’s eyes widened as she cried out in pain. Y/N yanked the fork out and stood to her feet. There were still others fighting around her yet all she could do was stare down at the woman on the floor. Y/N hadn’t killed her, only injured her, yet she still felt the guilt of that weigh heavily on her shoulders. 

Before Y/N could even think about moving there was a force that sent her to the ground and she scrambled to get away before a force was pressed upon her body and she was harshly turned on her back. A more muscular woman sent a punch to her face before Y/N even had the chance to block it. With her vision blurry, Y/N failed to see the fork slamming down at full force towards her. 

***

Dae-ho sat looking in the direction where Y/N had left with the other woman to go to the bathroom anxiously shaking his leg. There was something clawing inside of him that told him that something bad was going to happen. Of course he had noticed the forks everyone had been given and Gi-hun had only solidified Dae-ho’s beliefs that it wasn’t unintentional. 

Y/N had been gone for a while and it took Jung-bae forcing Dae-ho to remain seated instead of storming after her. 

“I never asked,” Jung-bae spoke, noticing that Dae-ho became considerably more anxious, “how do you know Y/N?”

“We work together,” Dae-ho answered, not tearing his eyes from where she had disappeared. “It’s a shitty part time job but that's all that would hire me. I don’t know why she is still there– she has so much potential.”

Jung-bae hummed. “It seems as if you admire Y/N a lot.”

“I do,” Dae-ho said with no hesitation. “Before now, we only ever spoke at work, but she was always so nice and friendly to me. I watched her interact with customers too and she always greets them with a smile and tries to make them smile. Afterwards I would always find her in the break room exhausted but she would always sit and talk to me if I was on my break. Once she shared that she wished to become an artist but her parents told her that it wasn’t a sustainable career so she gave up.”

“It sounds like a lot more than admiration you have for her,” Jung-bae teased. 

Dae-ho quickly shook his head. “No, it's not anything like what you’re thinking of.”

“How about I ask Y/N when she comes back?” Jung-bae suggested. 

“No!” Dae-ho exclaimed, causing Jung-bae to laugh. Dae-ho sighed. “Okay, maybe it is like that.”

“The following players have been eliminated,” the cheerful voice sounded throughout the room. 

Dae-ho’s heart instantly dropped to the floor as he looked at Jung-bae, fear coursing through his veins. 

“Player 201. Player 449. Player 091–”

“That’s the player who went with Y/N,” Dae-ho said, fear evident in his tone. 

The players entered the room one by one and Dae-ho’s heart rate increased. From the looks of things, it wasn’t only the women who had gotten into a fight in the bathroom as the men walked out too, blood covering each and every one of them. The cheerful voice continued to list the numbers of the players who had been eliminated and Dae-ho’s fear rose after each and every one. He should have somehow gone with her to make sure that she was okay. 

The voice stopped listing off the eliminated players just as Y/N stepped into the room, the guard closing the door behind her. Blood covered her neck and stained her jacket. Smeared blood covered her hands too as she slowly stepped further into the room shaken up. 

“Count your players!” 

The room immediately broke into chaos as each side counted their players and how many each side lost. Dae-ho didn’t care as he ran over to Y/N. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” He asked, looking at the injury on her neck. 

“They attacked us,” Y/N muttered. “I didn’t want to hurt them but I did.”

Slowly, Dae-ho reached forward until he held his hands in front of hers. Without thought, she held onto them tightly as if grounding herself. 

“They attacked you first, you were only defending yourself,” Dae-ho reassured. 

Y/N slowly looked up at him. “I know but–”

“But nothing,” Dae-ho said, slowly pulling Y/N closer to where the rest of the group were standing.

Y/N nodded, squeezing his hands once more. “Can we sit down somewhere?”

Dae-ho gently guided her over to where Gi-hun and the others were sitting as someone counted how many of the whole group there was. Dae-ho gestured for Y/N to sit down first before he sat down next to her, his arm wrapping protectively around her waist, her body leaning closer to him. 

“What happened to your neck?” Dae-ho questioned looking at the long scratches down the back of her neck that ventured under her collar. 

“It happened just before the guards came in to break up the fight,” Y/N muttered, her hand seeking out Dae-ho’s. “If they didn’t come in that second, I’m sure that woman would have finished me off.”

Dae-ho noticed the distant look in her eyes and squeezed her hand to snap her out of it. “Hey, I know it’s hard but try not to think about that right now.”

“What else is there to think about?” Y/N replied, her voice sounding exhausted. 

Dae-ho shrugged, his thumb gliding across her knuckles. “Our job?”

“I nearly died and your response is to talk about our shitty job?” Y/N said. 

“You’re talking about it though,” Dae-ho muttered. “And I was going to ask you, what will you do when you get out of here? You can’t stay in that job for the rest of your life.”

“Pay off my debts,” Y/N answered. “After that, I honestly don’t know.”

“You wanted to become an artist, why don’t you start there?” Dae-ho suggested. 

Y/N looked at him, disbelief clear in her eyes. “You remember that conversation?”

“Of course,” Dae-ho replied. Y/N looked at him– really looked at him. The look immediately made Dae-ho heat up under his collar. 

“I didn’t think anyone really listened when I talked about what I am passionate about,” Y/N admitted. 

“I listened,” Dae-ho replied. 

“Why have we never spoken outside of work?” Y/N asked.

“Probably because we both hate our job and pretend that it doesn’t exist once our shift is over,” Dae-ho replied. 

A soft huff of laughter left Y/N and Dae-ho couldn’t stop the way his heart lifted at the sound. 

“That is true,” she said. “How about when we get out of here, we change that? This definitely isn’t the place or time to say this, but I have liked spending time with you and you have honestly saved me so many times and made this whole thing even the slightest bit bearable. So when we get out of here, why don’t we go for dinner? I’ll pay, it’s the least I can do.”

A wide grin formed on Dae-ho’s face as he nodded. “That would be nice.”

Y/N gave him a smile in return before she rested her head on his shoulder, relaxing her body into his side. The gentle grip he had on her waist tightened as he pulled her closer to his body. While Gi-hun spoke to the group in a hushed tone, Dae-ho only remained half listening as he held onto Y/N. A new sense of survival overcame him– he would get him and Y/N out no matter what. 

chad x reader who’s dewey’s god daughter

she’s been distant lately and after an incident at a frat party he comes to check up on her and she apologizes out of nowhere and he’s all confused and she just vents and cries about how guilty she feels

(maybe she’s the one who called dewey instead of gale and that’s why she feels guilty)

a shoulder to lean on

chad meeks x reader

notes: warnings: (underage drinking, mention of scars, slight mention of weed, drunk!reader) i think that's all?? ughh i don't really like this but the lack of chad fics is criminal

words: 2.6k

Maybe letting Tara get you a drink hadn't been such a good idea; the taste of pure vodka with a hint of lemonade burned your throat, making you involuntarily wince. You turned to Tara, who was smirking mischievously, clearly amused by your reaction.

"You alright there?" she asked, her voice tinged with amusement.

You coughed lightly, trying to regain your composure. "Yeah, I just wasn't expecting it to be that strong," your voice is slightly hoarse.

Tara chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "You said you wanted something strong, didn't you?"

You managed a weak smile, nodding in acknowledgment. You figured you'd get used to the taste, just like Tara seemed to have from the looks of it. Her pirate headwrap was about to fall off her head, and she had been talking and dancing with people she barely knew all night, even introducing you to three or four "new friends" she had made.

"Yeah, well, I didn't mean 'knock-me-off-my-feet' strong," you retorted. Tara laughed, taking a sip from your cup before walking back to a new target to befriend.

As Tara disappeared into the dancing crowd, you took another sip of the potent cocktail, determined to get through it. Trying to make your way to the couch where Mindy sat with her new girlfriend, you bumped into a few people along the way, each one giving you a dirty look or a friendly nod as the brim-filled drink spilled a bit every time you brushed past someone.

While trying to pat your dress dry, you didn’t pay any mind to Chad calling your name, only noticing his presence when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned to see a tipsy-looking Chad with a cowboy hat on his head, the varsity jacket now long gone.

He reached out his hand to flick the cat ears perched on your head. "Nice ears," he slurred, grinning widely. You couldn't help but smile back at him.

“Nice hat,” he grinned, his hand moving to your waist, and the other one reaching for your cup. “I thought you were coming with Tara?”

“Yeah, she’s…” you gestured around the crowded room, “I might've lost her.”

Chad chuckled, his laughter slightly slurred from the alcohol. "Classic Tara," his hand squeezed your waist, making you look at him. "Well, you're not alone now. What are we drinking?" he asked, his eyes scanning the cup he'd just taken from you.

You shrugged. "Vodka and lemonade," you replied, gesturing to the cup. "Consider yourself warned, it's pretty intense." 

He gave you a look before chugging some of the drink, immediately cringing. You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction. "Told you," you teased.

Chad’s roommate approached, a cardboard costume covering most of his tall frame, and he rambled about how the loud music mixed with whatever shots Chad and him had done before made his head hurt. 

You couldn’t help but zone out, taking small sips of your drink and trying to ignore the taste as you stared at Chad. The whole friend group had been through so much in Woodsboro, and you couldn’t help but wonder why they didn’t seem to be hurting as much as you were. 

The stab scars on your left arm and your stomach felt like a constant reminder of that hospital. Of Dewey. As you continued to pretend to listen to Chad's roommate's complaints about his throbbing head, your mind drifted to the events of the past year.

The Woodsboro incident had left you scarred, both physically and emotionally. The loss of Dewey had hit you hard, and the memories of that terrifying night still haunted your dreams. You couldn't shake the feeling that the danger wasn't entirely over, and you had become more vigilant and cautious, constantly looking over your shoulder. 

Sam was the only one that knew about the nightmares that left you shaking and sweaty with fear about the masked killer and your godfather. And she made sure to reassure you that you weren’t going insane, that she also had those dreams. Sometimes, when you get in your head, you can feel the scars start to hurt again, you remember the pain, the fear, and the loss all too vividly. 

You only focused back on the conversation when you felt Chad’s arm wrap around your shoulders, and a single tear on your cheek, which you quickly wiped before the boys could notice it. The topic had changed from Ethan’s poor alcohol tolerance to Chad forgetting to take his dorm keys. 

Chad continued to talk to Ethan, while keeping his arm around you and his thumb tracing eight-figures on your shoulder. You leaned into his side, taking solace in his presence. The relentless pounding of the music and the swirling chaos of the party seemed to fade into the background as you felt the soothing rhythm of his thumb and the drink that, just like Tara promised, didn’t taste so strong now. 

Soon enough, Ethan was dragged away by a smiley Anika, begging him to dance because Mindy refused to. “What’s up?” Chad asked, moving your hair behind your ears and cupping your face.

“Hm?” “You’re really quiet,”

You sighed softly, gazing into Chad's eyes as you tried to remind yourself that this is just how Chad was, touchy and flirty. "Just tired, I guess," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. He nodded in understanding, his hand gently stroking your cheek. 

“Do you want to leave? I can walk you.” 

You looked around at the swirling, chaotic party and then back at Chad, his expression filled with concern. The offer was tempting, and you appreciated his consideration, but you couldn't help but feel that you needed to confront your fears and the memories that still haunted you.

"I appreciate it, Chad," you said, a soft smile touching your lips, "but I think I need to stay here a bit longer. I'm not ready to let this party beat me." you joked.

He eyed you for a second, hesitating, before letting go of you and giving you a smile. “Let’s find Tara, yeah?”

Finding Tara, giggly and sharing a joint with Mindy outside, also meant that Chad saw the beer-pong game you walked by on the way. “Ohhh, I see something I like.” he said, dragging you towards the table as the girls started a joke-telling competition in gibberish. 

Tara and Mindy's laughter echoed in the background as you and Chad approached the table. Two sweaty boys on one side of the table, dabbing each other up and chugging drinks to celebrate their win.

Chad grabbed a nearby ping pong ball and turned to you with a mischievous grin. "You ever played beer pong before?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

You chuckled, feeling a bit of adrenaline rush through you. “Uh… I've seen it in movies. Does that count?" you replied. He shrugged, “Eh, I’ll teach you.” He passed by a couple to stand on the opposite side to the boys, holding two ping pong balls in his hand with a grin. 

He handed you one of the balls, leaning closer so you could hear him talk. "Okay, so you see those cups over there?" He pointed to the triangle of red Solo cups arranged at the far end of the table, each filled with beer. "We throw the ping pong balls into their cups. If we make it, they drink. If they make it, we drink."

You stared up at him, feeling fuzzy because of the drink Tara had made you earlier and because of how close he was standing, his chest almost touching your back. “Ready?” you hesitated, not really trusting your tipsy aim, but Chad gave your hip a squeeze before focusing on the cups again.

Chad took over, having sobered up enough to not miss his shots. You, on the other side, missed enough shots to empty your cups, "Alright, don't worry," Chad reassured you, a playful grin on his face. "You're getting the hang of it. Just focus on the cups and take your time."

Feeling the alcohol begin to take its toll, you hoped your drunken state didn’t lead to an embarrassing display. You aimed for the last cup, missing by mere inches. The beer pong ball bounced off the rim and rolled across the table. Chad leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Don't worry, it's all in good fun. We can make a comeback."

His warm breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine, and for a moment, you forgot about everything else – the scars, the nightmares, and the chaos of the party. It was just you and Chad, engaged in a playful game with the world fading away. 

And just like that, it downed back on you, all at once.

Chad must have noticed the change in your demeanor because he gently took your hand, his touch offering a reassuring anchor in the midst of the emotional storm. “Hey, hey, it’s fine. It’s just a game.” 

Your eyes met Chad's, his gaze warm and understanding, but you could see the concern etched in his expression. The chaos of the party seemed to intensify around you, the laughter and music becoming a cacophony that threatened to drown you. The weight of the past year bore down on you, the memories of that terrifying night in Woodsboro, the loss of Dewey, and the constant guilt that ate at you for calling Dewey for help.

He wrapped an arm around you, “You drank too much,” he said, putting down the cup you were holding because of your last miss. “Let’s get some air.”

Chad led you away from the beer pong table, guiding you through the crowd of partygoers. The night air felt cool against your skin as you stepped outside. The chaotic sounds of the party faded behind you, and he led you outside with a strong hold on your hand, and an arm around your waist.

You took a deep breath, trying to clear your mind and steady your racing heart. "I'm sorry,"

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice soft and reassuring. He gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "You don't have to apologize for anything. We all have our moments."

He didn’t say anything when you stayed quiet, looking down as he walked you to your dorm. Once you reached the building, Chad stopped and turned to face you, “Keys?” 

You fumbled around in your bag for a moment before finally locating your dorm keys. You handed them to Chad with a grateful smile. "Thanks," you said, still feeling a bit overwhelmed. 

You stepped inside your dorm, and Chad followed. The room was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos of the party. You sat down on your bed, and Chad took a seat beside you. He didn't say anything for a moment, allowing you to collect your thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, he rubbed your back, “Why?”

“For Dewey.”

Chad's expression softened, and he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Hey, don't blame yourself for what happened to Dewey. None of this was your fault," he said in a soothing tone, his thumb gently rubbing your shoulder. "We all lost someone we cared about last year, and we're all still trying to come to terms with it. It's okay to feel the way you do."

Wiping at the tears that covered your face, you hiccuped as Chad stared at you. "I know, but sometimes it's just hard to shake that guilt, you know?" 

“None of us blame you for what happened. Dewey was trying to protect us all, including you.”

Chad pulled you into a comforting hug, his arms wrapping around you securely. "We all have those thoughts, but it doesn't change what happened. You're not alone in this, okay? We're here for you."

He pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands like he’d done earlier that night. “Why haven’t you told us about this?”

“Sam knows,” your voice broke as you shrugged your shoulders, “but I didn't want to burden everyone with it. We've all been through so much, and I didn't want to add to the weight on your shoulders."

Chad's eyes held a mixture of concern and understanding. "You're not a burden, and you shouldn't have to go through this alone," he said softly. "and we've got your back. That's what friends are for." 

He kissed your forehead, lingering for a few seconds before pulling back to give you a small smile. “You know we all love you, right?” you stayed quiet, not really knowing what to say. You’d distanced yourself from the group since the murders, not enough for them to stop talking to you, but seeing their faces made you go back to that night.

"I do," you finally whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. "I love you all too."

Chad's thumb gently wiped away the tears from your cheeks, “I’ll make you something to eat, yeah? So the alcohol goes away a bit.” you nodded and he kissed where your tears had been just seconds before he wiped them.

While Chad prepared a simple meal, you took the opportunity to wash your face and change into more comfortable clothes. When you returned to the kitchen, the aroma of grilled cheese sandwiches filled the air, making your stomach rumble. He handed you a plate with a smile, and you both sat down at the small table in your dorm room. 

“Thank you," you said, your voice filled with genuine appreciation. "I don't know what I would've done without you tonight."

Chad smiled, "Of course,” 

As you both finished your sandwiches, Chad cleared the plates and put them in the sink. You watched him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "You're a great cook," you remarked, genuinely impressed.

Chad chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Well, I've had a lot of practice. Ethan is a horrible cook."

You appreciated his lightheartedness and humor. It was moments like these that made you feel like you could truly escape the darkness that had been haunting you. "I'm glad you're in my life, Chad."

His smile widened, and he approached you, gently cupping your face. "I'm glad I'm in your life too," he said, his voice filled with warmth. He squished your cheeks with his hand, pushing you to chuckle as he showered your face with kisses. “So, so glad.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, and he pulled you back in for another hug. After a while, you both pulled away from the hug, but Chad kept his arm around your shoulders, his touch grounding you. 

“So, what now?" you asked, looking up at Chad, feeling a sense of peace you hadn't felt in a while.

"Well, we could watch a movie, or we could just sit here and talk. It's up to you." 

You considered your options for a moment, feeling the weight of the past year slowly lifting from your shoulders. 

"A movie sounds good," you finally replied, a genuine smile gracing your lips as Chad played with your fingers before standing up to lead you to the couch. He places another lingering kiss on your forehead as you sit together, his arms wrapped around you and, just for a moment, you think about how he makes you feel safe, how his presence eases the ache in your heart, even if just for a little while.

The two of you settled on the couch, wrapped up in blankets, with a comforting movie playing in the background. Chad's arm remained around your shoulders, offering silent support as you both immersed yourselves in the storyline. Occasionally, he'd squeeze your shoulder or run his fingers through your hair, a wordless reassurance that he was there.

I was wondering if you could make a Gotak scenario if you have time. His shy gf has insecurities about not being experienced in dating since Gotak is her first boyfriend. It could be something she bottles up and she eventually tells him her insecurities and feeling like she's not doing enough when she's feeling down. He could like shut her up with a kiss and basically try to get rid of her insecurities.

I’m SO in love with this idea ?! Omg!! Here let me write this for you

I love you just for you - GOTAK

The two of you are curled up together on the couch, your favourite way of spending the afternoon. He’s got his arm around you, thumb brushing over your shoulder, you’d usually enjoy this moment the most you could but this time you simply weren’t able to. Your thoughts are far away, and heavy.

You’ve been quiet for a while now, and he’s noticed. He always does.

“Hey,” he says gently, turning slightly to look at you, his brown eyes searching your face. “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitate. It’s hard to explain, it feels silly, even. But it’s been building in you for a while, and now that he’s looking at you like that, so open, so genuinely caring, you can’t hold it back anymore.

“It’s just…” You exhale, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “I feel like I’m not good at this. Like I don’t know how to be the perfect girlfriend. You’ve always been so good to me and everyone but I really don’t know how to give it back to you”

His expression softens immediately, and before you can say another word, he reaches out, cupping your face with both hands like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“Stop,” he says, gently but firmly, a smile playing at the edge of his lips. “Stop thinking that.” His lips curve into a soft smile, looking at you in adoration

You try to look away, but he leans in, brushing his nose against yours, a sweet and caring gesture. “You’re already perfect in my eyes, that’s more than enough.”

You open your mouth to protest, but before a single word can escape, he kisses you, soft, slow, lingering. Like he’s trying to press all his reassurance into you without needing to say another thing. Both of his hands holding your face still.

When he pulls away, he gives you the same eyes he always gives you when he’s so grateful of you

“Loving you isn’t about you ticking boxes or knowing all the right things,” he whispers. “As cringy as it sounds, I love you, for you.”

Your eyes sting a little, and you laugh through the tears starting to form. “You’re really good at this, you know.”

He grins, nudging your nose again. “Yeah, but I’m only good because I’ve got the best person to love.”

This side of Gotak is only for you to see, and it really does comfort you.

MY MASTERLIST

lightning & chemistry

Trent Alexander-Arnold x Reader

summary: you find yourself trapped with trent in your professor's office with a storm raging outside, forcing you two to sort out your problems.

word count: 3k

warnings: language. this is fluff. idiots in love?

a/n: this fic officially commemorates the first usage of 'y/n' on a karotland production. everyone CLAP!!👏🏽 i honestly dont know what this is lmaoo. i just needed it out of my drafts hehehe, enjoyyyy

You glanced up towards the greying sky, eyeing the heavy clouds as you walked on the stoned pavement leading towards the professor’s building. You tried to calm yourself, repeatedly telling yourself that this wasn’t the storm that your weather app had alerted you about in the morning that you had merely scoffed at, deciding to forgo anything that could have brave the rain.

You clutched the file closer to your chest containing the last assignment needed by your professor before spring break would start.You really wanted to kick yourself for not submitting it yesterday, deciding to pull your roommate Sarah’s ears when you would see her again. What had she said? But this is the last time we’ll get to hang out without the pressure of exams! You had a mind to make today the last day ever for Sarah when you got back.

Well, if you got back.

The trees began to sway a little with the wind picking up but still not enough to make you worry. Or maybe that was your delusion talking. Besides there were other people walking around campus with you so it didn’t concern you to the level of breaking into a run to a nearby shelter.  Your eyes remained fixed on the path in front of you.

“Y/N! Wait up!”

The familiar voice made you falter in your steps, glancing over your shoulder to see Trent jogging up to you and falling in step with you. “Hey.”

You rolled your eyes at him in greeting, feeling annoyance add to your anxiety. “What are you doing outside? Don’t you see the storm brewing up?”

“Says the person who is currently marching furiously through campus,” Trent said, adjusting the straps of his backpack. His gaze fell on file you were holding, “You’re submitting the assignment on the last day!? No way, lemme get a picture of this.”

Your cheeks got hot as you smacked Trent’s phone out of your face. You were definitely going to pull Sarah’s ears. “Go away Trent! I don’t need an addition to my ever growing problems.”

Trent grinned mischievously, putting his phone away and tapping the file he was holding in his right hand. “I’m only messing with you; I was also on the way to submit mine.”

“Of course, you were,” you replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “You sure you didn’t have it all neatly wrapped up and ready to go days ago?”

“Melts my heart that you know me so well,” Trent gushed causing you to stomp your footsteps in frustration and purposefully walking a few steps ahead of him.

You didn’t miss his smirk from the corner of your eye as he lazily caught up to your new speed. Trent seemed in no mood of taking a hint of him being unwanted, continuing to walk with you with an aloof expression on his face as you tried to huff at his presence and throw him dirty looks whenever your shoulder would clash with his.

You turned your face to snap at him to keep his distance when a sudden blast of wind hit you out of nowhere, the force so fierce that it took you surprise cause you to stumble back into Trent’s shoulder, his hand forming a firm grip on your arm to make sure you did not fall.

Before you could register the shock of being held in Trent’s strong arms, the raindrops came down in a sudden downpour, the noise almost deafening. The cold temperature of the rain caused you to suck in a sharp breath in surprise and press yourself closer to Trent’s warm side.

“Oh shit!” You heard Trent exclaim. “C’mon we have to get out of this rain.”

He took your hand and pulled you along with him, making a break for the professor’s office building that was only a little way ahead. You tried your best not to slip on the wet stoned pathway, grateful for Trent’s hand knowing well that without it, you would have fallen smack down on your face long ago.

You and Trent exchanged a glance, your clothes soaked through despite the limited time that you had spent in the rain. For a moment, you both stood in silence, the only sound coming was the steady drumming of rain outside the building doors, Trent’s warm unwavering grip still in your hand.

“Well, this is just perfect,” You muttered, snatching your hand back and wringing out your sleeve.

Trent chuckled, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I’m really glad I decided to bring my assignment covered in a file. My shoes on the other hand,” he glanced down at them, “Well, I can’t say the same for them.”

You shot Trent a dirty look, letting out a sigh of exasperation before trudging inwards. You checked on your assignment, relief flooding your body knowing that it was as dry as a bone.

The squelching sound of wet footsteps echoed in the empty hallways, Trent’s footsteps out of sync with yours. The door to your professor’s office was shut, making you stop in your steps. Trent bumped into you with a gentle ‘oof’ leaving his lips, not expecting you to stop so suddenly.

“Why have we stopped?” Trent blinked, peering over your head.

“The door is closed.”

“Okay. So?”

“So??” You sighed, irritated. “Well we can’t possibly go in.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s closed,” You said in a seething tone, pointing at the door.

Trent rolled his eyes at that, pushing forward past you and immediately going for the handle. Before you could protest, he twisted the doorknob and swung the door wide open, letting out a little ‘aha!’. He walked inside, waiting a moment before looking over his shoulder to see you still standing where you were. “Aren’t you gonna come in?”

You hesitated, clutching your assignment tighter. “I don’t know. Is it even okay for us to be in here?”

“Yeah,” Trent’s voice came from inside the office, “They only lock it after 8pm whenever the professor has given out an assignment for submission. Besides,” his head popped back into view, “It is a well known make out spot.”

You scoffed at that, heat crawling up your neck, entering through the threshold and heading straight towards the desk where Trent’s assignment now lay.

“I’m kidding,” Trent chuckled, “That’s actually Professor Willbury’s office next door.”

If only looks could kill, Trent would have been done for with the glare you were giving him on your way out after having submitted your work. “Let’s leave before I have the misfortune of being discovered alone with you inside a secluded room.”

You began to walk back from where you two had entered the building, praying that the rain had let up so you could go back to the safety of your cozy dorm room instead of having to spend anymore unnecessary time with Trent. The closer you got, the louder the sound of the rain started to get, sinking any hopes of a safe trip back.

Trent whistled in surprise, “How has that gotten faster?”

“Well we’re not going anywhere for a while,” You said mournfully, throwing yourself on the bench that was put up against one side of the wall of the hallway. With a sigh, Trent took a seat opposite to you on an identical bench.

You focused on your shoes, noting the splatter of mud on the soles, trying to ignore Trent’s whistling that seemed to have no real tune. You thought that after months of sharing the same classroom, his presence would become more digestible but sadly that was not the case.

Trent was…okay. Annoying, sure. But okay. Your official introduction to him had been in class when you had accidentally smacked your pen so that it had fallen right next to Trent’s foot who was at the time sat in front of you. You had politely tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he could pick it up for you. But the look Trent had given you made it seem as though you had asked him to bring the planet pluto for you. After a million grunts, he had picked it up, dropped the pen on your desk and had gone back to his notebook.

After a strange few interactions, Trent had slowly begun to warm up to you but your petty mind had latched onto the pen episode quite fiercely, still maintaining an air of coldness towards him. Again, it’s not like you had asked for his kidney, just to pass your pen back; a seemingly easy task to do without giving you one hell of an attitude.

The closest you had come to breaking that resolve was during a certain house party when you had suddenly gotten lost between a crowd of people dancing, being pushed around in your unstable shoes when out of nowhere, Trent had you gripped by your forearm, guiding you out of the crowd. He had let go of your hand just as quick as he had grabbed it, shooting a small smile your way before going back to his friends.

You thought about that moment a lot, the way his hot hand had held onto you so securely. You at times wondered if he remembered it all or even thought about it, never having acknowledged it to you again.

“So are you going home during the break?” Trent’s voice tore you out of your thoughts.

You stared at him hard, mind not processing despite your ears hearing what he had said. “What?”

Trent chuckled. “Spring break? Are you gonna go home or stay on campus?”

“Oh,” You said blankly, “Yeah I’m going home by the train on Sunday afternoon.”

Trent ‘aahed’ at that, pursing his lips. You shuffled your feet closer to yourself, sitting up a bit straighter, “You?”

“Yeah, I’ll be driving home on Monday. My home’s fairly close so it won’t take long.”

You nodded at that, sniffing your nose, unsure of what to say. Trent’s foot began to tap lightly against the floor as he fixated his gaze up on the ceiling.

It weirded you out how little conversation there was between you as you looked onto the patterned floor, unsure on how to pass the time. You looked up to Trent at the same time he looked down at you, eyes locking in an instant before the two of you looked sideways in opposite directions, breaking the contact.

Trent jumped up from his seat as he walked towards the main door, peering out from the side windows at the pouring rain that showed no sign to stop. Your eyes followed his every move, your heart leaping in your chest when he suddenly spun around to you. “I don’t suppose you have an umbrella in your bag?”

You looked at him confused, “No, why?”

“I dunno,” He shrugged casually, “We could try and make a run for it.”

Just when he said that a loud clap of thunder boomed outside causing Trent to jump a little. You gave him a teasing smile, shaking your head, “Wow. I can’t be that bad of company that you’re willing to brave the weather outside instead of sitting here with me.”

Trent froze where he was, not expecting your teasing tone. He took a moment to recollect his thoughts, relaxing his shoulders. He walked up to where you were, plopping down next to you, and in a tone just as teasing as yours, “I was just being mindful of you not wanting to be seen with me in such a popular make out spot.”

“I thought you said that was Professor Willbury’s?”

“Well that’s number one, this,” he gestured with his hands, “is number two on the list.”

“There’s a list?” You laughed in disbelief.

“Why?” He leaned towards you, eyes boring into yours, “Do you want to go somewhere else then?”

You rolled your eyes, irritation blooming in your stomach again (or were you mistaking your irritation for something else?), “Forget it! You’re impossible so let’s just wait in silence.”

“Okay sorry! I didn’t mean that. I’ll be normal now,” Trent quickly apologized with a chuckle, sitting back and upright. “I just get a bit nervous around you.”

The laughed that escaped your lips was highly unprompted, coming out a bit crueler than you had wanted, “Yeah sure okay. You nervous around me.”

He gawked at you, looking a bit confused, “Why’d you say it like that?”

You don’t know why but that made you laugh out louder, pretty sure that there was an insult somewhere in his words but you couldn’t find it. “I’m sorry,” You said between laughs, “That’s just the most insane thing I’ve heard all week.”

Trent folded his arms in front of his chest, huffing out a breath, “Well it’s not my fault that for someone who’s so smart, you’re so dense. But don’t worry sweetheart, you haven’t broken my resolve for flirting with you yet.”

Scratch frame. Wait. What?

You looked at him, his brown eyes holding you captive as you searched his face for answers. You peered at him, trying to discern if he was pulling your leg. He had to be, right?

Because you would have known if he was flirting with you. Was it when he started sitting next to you in class instead of in front of you? Or was it when you ran into him on campus in the middle of the night and he walked you to your dorm despite your protests?

The parties where he would suddenly appear, whispering in your ear how good you looked? All the bickering you two would do in the library and everyone would desperately shush you? That was him flirting and not trying to rile you up?

You licked your dry lips, Trent’s eyes falling down at the motion. You broke out into an awkward chuckle, “What do you mean flirting?”

It was Trent’s turn to look surprised now, searching your face for answers. Once he saw that you were being serious, he inhaled a sharp breath following it with laughter. He smacked his palm against his forehead, letting out a small groan, “Oh god this explains so much.” He composed himself, eyes now twinkling as he leaned close to your face, “You’re telling me I’ve been busting my ass, following you around, practically worshipping the ground you walk on and you’re asking me ‘what do you mean flirting?’?

You tried your best not to squirm under his gaze, gulping heavily at his close proximity, “I thought you hated me.”

Trent let out a low chuckle, his hot breath fanning your face, “Now what would make you even think that?”

“The pen,” You mumbled.

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“The pen,” You said in a louder voice now, “When I asked you to give me my pen back, the way you did it made it seem like I had asked something impossible for you to do, all groans and moans.”

“That class,” Trent’s fingers lightly grazed your knee, sending a gently shiver down your back, “Was right after the first training session of the year. I was just sore from the workout.”

“Oh.” You felt so stupid right now, mentally slamming your head against a wall for basing an entire opinion on someone after a silly first interaction despite there being multiple evidence to suggest the contrary.

But you had never considered them, brain still grasping firmly to the ‘pen incident’. You would have muttered out an apology if you weren’t so distracted by Trent’s feather light touches, flexing your thigh involuntarily under his touch.

Trent was so close that you and him were breathing the same air now, breaths synchronized. With his free hand, he gently caressed your cheek, angling your face closer to his. You let him bring you close, eyes fluttering when his nose nudged yours, his lips ghosting over yours so softly that you felt your skin prickle under his. You parted your lips in anticipation, breath getting a little erratic, desperately waiting for the moment when his hot lips would finally press against yours, confirming your suspicions that they were good for something other than talking back to you.

But the moment didn’t come.

His warmth disappeared. You frowned deeply, opening your eyes to see Trent sitting back in his original position, an amused look on his face as he took in your flustered one. He casually picked at his trousers, flicking off a stray thread, “Hmm, I don’t really know what to say.”

The heat in your cheeks now turned into the heat in your chest. You let out a noise of distaste, getting up from your seat and stomping towards the exit door. You looked hard at the rain, hoping the sight of water would cool you down, hands curled into fists on your sides. Still so fucking annoying.

You gasped as you felt a hand slide against your waist, the warmth enveloping you again with Trent’s low baritone, hushed voice pressed against your ear, “Guess I’ll have to plead my case harder with you.”

You leaned into his side, hip pressing against his side, enjoying the little sigh that left his lips, “Finally going to stop acting like a coward and ask me out on a date?”

He offered you a wide grin, “Sure. Mini-golf course on Friday night sounds good?” You nodded, smiling back and feeling his fingers squeeze your waist, “Or you know we could just head back to the professor’s-”

Trent laughed when you smacked his chest, cutting his sentence short. “Alright alright, I’ll kiss you later then.”

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?”

˗ˏˋcam cameron ´ˎ˗

“hi, it’s me, sextus.”

fics/one shots

dress

in which you and cam have hated each other for as long as you can remember. but what if that hatred wasn’t actually what you thought it was.

blurbs

head cannons

˗ˏˋ finnick odair ´ˎ˗

“good thing we’re allies, right?”

fics/one shots

slut!

in which finnick takes care of you after you survive a blood rain. aka finnick being an absolute gentleman ;)

safe and sound

in which finnick shows up at your doorstep and vents his heart out.

new romantics

celebrating the anniversary of getting rid of the hunger games with your found family with a surprise for them in store as well.

evermore

even in the dark times, even when the pain seemed to be for evermore, the thought of you made that all go away.

blurbs

headcannons

can you pls write something where reader says i love you first and trent is surprised but super happy and he says it back

The 'L' word [ T.A.A ]

pairing: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: in a rush , you leave trent in slight shock with more than just the usual goodbye.

genre(s): established relationship, fluffff !!!

[wc: 1.6k]

notes: this is such a cute request I'm dyinggg. if there's one thing that I love more than the one-bed trope, then it's casual and unexpected love confessions.

eight letters. eight letters, yet it held so much meaning.

you never liked throwing the saying out so casually, especially to people. it never really managed to roll off your tongue as easily as it did for others- heck you still called it the 'L-word'.

there were a handful of people you have said it to of course, your parents, your siblings, and every other fictional character you felt yourself falling hopelessly for but there was never any other reason to hand it out.

you often had your friends say it to you, so casually as if it meant nothing- and that was the issue. to you, it meant everything. it wasn't just a phrase or an affectionate affirmation. to love someone, you believed that the weight of it had to be felt in your core.

that you'd find yourself at your utmost vulnerability to the point where you were certain that you'd never regret saying it, or even feeling it. and that was all thanks to your grandmother when you were at the ripe age of 7

"don't you go throwing that around now just because barney said you could. love is not just a word. it's a declaration and--"

"mum, she's 7. you cannot be putting this in her head when she barely knows the difference between left and right," your mother complained but you continued to look up at your grandmother with intrigue.

your grandmother scoffed and lazily gestured to the t.v. "tell that to that damn dinosaur."

a declaration. now you're not saying that you didn't deem anyone worthy of your love, you'd show it in many ways— but saying it was something else.

so when you left your boyfriend's house that afternoon to see to an emergency (your friend mia had just been broken up with) and you saw how trent's expression dropped knowing that you weren't able to come to his match, your heart strings were tugged like never before.

you'd been together for a year and a bit but it felt like you've been together since the beginning of time and it could confidently be said that this was the first match of his at home, that you were going to miss. of course, it saddened you, and there was the slight reconsideration but this was one of those times where you knew where you had to be.

you looked at trent with a softened gaze as you stood in the hallway, ready to leave. "I'm sorry baby, you know that I wouldn't miss any of your matches for the world."

there was a slight pout on his lips and you couldn't help but melt at how adorable he looked at that moment. "you're killing me here," you said with a smile and pulled him into a hug— huge mistake seeing as you were already struggling to leave.

a feeling of warmth spread through your chest when he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head in the crook of your neck, pressing a kiss there every so often. "no I understand," he muttered, but the slight disappointment was evident in his voice and that hit you like a truck.

it was subtle moments like this that you cherished the most. moments where trent didn't hide his feelings and made it obvious that he didn't want you to leave. when you two first started dating he was rather lacklustre and preferred to keep his thoughts to himself.

it would leave you wondering if he actually liked you, or if you were being too much by expecting him to say "I miss you" or be openly affectionate and make it known that he wanted you around. but after three confusing months, he started to ease in and let his feelings be and show you that he cared.

for instance when he gets home from practice and doesn't say anything and immediately comes to hug you, or join you on the couch just to relax. or when he sits on your bed while you're working just to be near you, because your presence genuinely matters to him.

the moment of silence was interrupted by your phone ringing, which was an immediate sign that you had to hurry.

"I told you that her boyfriend was a piece of shit but mia didnt listen. his name is literally kyle babe," trent stated with a raised eyebrow and reluctantly pulled away from you so that you could finally leave.

you hummed in response and gave him a small smile, "love makes people irrational and stupid."

somehow that brought a smile to trent's face, a look of adoration in his eyes as he leaned in to kiss you. "no wonder I'm such an idiot."

oh, dear god.

he caught your lips before you could even manage to think of a response. your cheeks flushed immediately accompanied by a swarm of butterflies and the thought of nothing else but him. your brain practically short circuited the second you felt his lips meet yours with so much tenderness.

the feeling was incomparable- his hand cupping your cheek while the other pulled you closer to him in hopes that you wouldn't ever leave him, the way your heart skipped a beat when you felt his lips tug up into a smile and especially the way he looked at you when he pulled away.

the moment you took to catch your breath you lost your train of thought just by looking into his his eyes that held so much adoration and affection for you. just one look and you were ready to give him every bit of you for the rest of your life.

you were happily drowning in absolute bliss.

you bit back a smile to stop yourself from looking like an idiot and gave him one last peck on the cheek and opened the front door, turning to look at him one last time. "you're going to be amazing today and make me proud okay?"

oh how much trent loved it when you said things like that. it had him weak in the knees and smiling from ear to ear. "yes ma'am."

you rolled your eyes at the comment with a scoff and finally walked out, absolutely out of your mind and lost in the feeling of utter bliss. "shut up, I love you so much bye."

you immediately shut the door and trent's heart dropped to his stomach.

he didn't get to say it back.

during the full 90 minutes that's the only thing he managed to think about. the fact that he didn't get to say "I love you" back.

not because he didn't— it was blatantly obvious to everyone who knew him that he was head over heels in love with you. everyone but you knew. and he hated that you didn't know, or are least he though so.

just like you, he'd show it in the things he does for you, the gestures, the constant reassurance and reminders that he's proud of you no matter what you do. but he's never said it for the mere reason that he was scared.

he knew how much it meant to you, and the thought of scaring you away was the last thing he wanted. if it weren't for that, then he would've shouted it from the rooftop the minute you said yes to being his girlfriend.

but he didn't have a rooftop right now, and you weren't here. what he did have however was a live broadcast with over 40 000 people at the stadium and confirmation that you were watching the match from mia's house because like you said, you wouldn't miss it for the world.

he was barely listening to what the interviewer was asking him, just nodding along with nothing but the thought of kissing you until you were both out of breath when he got home.

he tapped his fingers at his side and tried to form a response to the question about their win, seeing as his mind was elsewhere but played it safe and gave the interviewer an answer that wasn't too vague. but then again wasn't "I'm proud of everyone, we played extremely well despite the few injuries and I'm glad we were able to take tonight's win." enough??

"and how about your goal? that corner was amazing and had everyone's jaws on the floor."

he completely forgot about that to be honest. the goal slipped his mind entirely, but he did remember what he thought about at that moment, with a smile beaming from the pitch. you.

he gave a tight-lipped smile. "I was just as surprised, to be honest, but I'm glad that it stirred some excitement," he chuckled and continued to listen to the interviewer who managed to bring you up.

"this is the first time in over a year that your girlfriend wasn't able to make it to a home match, that must've made you feel a bit upset?"

"uh," he trailed off trying to find the words. "she had an emergency but I know she's watching from home so that brought me some comfort, so she wasn't gone entirely."

the interviewer smiled at him and he knew what question was next. the one he'd been waiting for all evening. "is there anything you want to say to her then?"

hell yeah there was.

"first of all, I was right about kyle and you should listen to me more, second, that goal was entirely for you. something to brag to your friends about, and last but not least--" trent took a deep breath, unable to stop himself from smiling from ear to ear with a heart full of warmth, "--i love you more."