𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑩𝒆𝒅, 𝑻𝒘𝒐 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔‧₊˚✧ . ˚

—Sleep well.

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho x fem!reader

Summary: Gi-hun suggested that the group took turns staying on watch in case the other players attacked, him and Jung-bae stayed up while you and the others napped, Dae-ho took his place beside you to rest with you.

Content: fluff, cuddling(?), you head-butting him in your sleep lol, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not really proofread, sorry!

Word count: 808

You were tucked into the corner with your group—Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Young-il, Dae-ho, and Jun-hee. Trust was a rare thing in the games, but the six of you managed to stick together, watching each other’s backs through the brutal rounds.

The weight of exhaustion clung to you, but Gi-hun’s paranoia kept your eyes open longer than you would have liked. He wasn’t wrong, though. The fear was palpable.

Your group pulled a couple of mattresses off of the bunks, arranging them as best as possible. One was dragged and laid flat against the wall, the others shoved under bunk frames for some semblance of protection.

“Is this really necessary? I don’t like sleeping under there.” Jung-bae asked, sliding a mattress to Gi-hun, who shoved it under a bunk frame.

“Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us.” Gi-hun said, his eyes focused and his voice steady. “The prize money still goes up if we kill each other. It’s a part of the game they designed.”

You exchanged a look with Dae-ho, who sat cross-legged beside you, holding onto some blankets and pillows. He had been your shadow ever since Red light, Green light. Always sticking close, insisting on protecting you in this place after seeing the way you froze during the first game—when he told you to stay behind him closely so you could use him as a human shield.

“We need to take turns keeping watch after the lights go out.” Gi-hun muttered, sitting down at the foot of the bunk beds, his sharp eyes scanning the room. “I’ll take the first watch.”

The lights flickered out not long after, leaving the only source being the giant piggy-bank hung on the ceiling that was glowing dimly.

It was after a while when Jung-bae rolled out lazily from under a bunk and plopped down beside Gi-hun, the two of them speaking in hushed voices.

You laid down on one of the mattresses, wrapping the thin blanket around yourself. Dae-ho settled beside you not long after, and though you weren’t expecting it, his hand brushed against yours as he shifted to get comfortable, and you were sure you saw his face flush before he hid it, which barely worked, to be honest.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbled, his voice low and soothing. “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll fight them off if they try to come over here.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart ache in the best way. Dae-ho had a knack for looking out for you since you met him in the games, even in the little ways—giving you his portion of food, stepping in when someone got too close. You hadn’t known him long, but there was this easy warmth between the two of you.

Within minutes, you were sound asleep.

Dae-ho’s soft snores filled the small space you both shared. Exhaustion had gotten the better of him, just like it did to you. His arm had draped protectively over your side in his sleep, his presence a cocoon of safety.

Gi-hun and Jung-bae sat near the bunks, their attention now drawn to the sound of soft snoring. Both sets of eyes landed on you and Dae-ho, curled up together on the mattress.

“They’re out like a light,” Jung-bae remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You know, seeing them like that... it reminds me of when we went on strike. We were occupying the factory, and management told us to come out. They said anyone who came out voluntarily would be let off the hook and receive more severance pay.”

Gi-hun stared into the distance, as if recalling what happened.

“You were sleeping beside me and you were talking in your sleep. ‘Mom, I’m hungry, give me some food.’” Jung-bae made an exaggerated crying face, and Gi-hun gave him a glare as Jung-bae nudged him with his elbow, smirking.

Their voices echoed, and soon enough, soft laughs filled the quietness.

Jung-bae chuckled again, louder this time. He clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The noise had reached you, and you stirred slightly. Dae-ho, still asleep, curled closer to you instinctively, his arm tightening around your side. His movement caused your head to shift slightly, and without warning, you head-butted him in your half-asleep state of grogginess.

Dae-ho furrowed his brows, a soft noise escaping his lips as he shifted again, burying his face into the crook of his arm. You tugged the blanket over your shoulders, muttering something incoherent before nestling deeper into the mattress, falling right back asleep.

Jung-bae stifled another laugh, his shoulders shaking with the effort. Gi-hun gave him a glare, but a faint smile was already tugging at the corners of his mouth too.

“They’re like kids,” Jung-bae whispered, his tone fond.

“Let them sleep. They’ll need it.” Gi-hun shook his head and sighed softly.

look how happy he is!😭

*ೃ࿐TO FAULT A NET

[ ACT IV: REAP WHAT YOU SOW ]

spider-man! ethan landry x black cat! reader

#SYNOPSIS— your reputation matters more than you think, superheroes aren't good with emotions, mindy and chad are always ready to fight each other, and ethan can recognize you by your smile alone.

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

#AUTHORSNOTE— ethan and the reader are so 'she fell first but he fell harder' coded, also this was supposed to be one long part but i spit it into two bc tumblr wouldn't let me edit so i'm sorry in advance xx

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

you still couldn't believe that you had brought the hero over into your apartment.

your promise to catch ghostface with him was followed by a pregnant pause as you both sipped your glasses of water. the hero was still playing with your cats (they loved him) as he drank water, his mind trying to process what had just happened.

from behind the mask, ethan wanted to cry. he wanted to sob and break everything in his path because he had just lost quinn, and he blamed himself for it all.

the sound of your feet shuffling away from him made him look at you in interest. you were moving carefully, the stitches he had done to your side inhibiting your movement. ethan could see how uncomfortable you felt, but you hid it from him as you began taking out two pots, putting it into your sink to fill both with water.

"should i go?" ethan began, carefully picking up your cats and putting them on the floor. he stood up. "you seem.."

you pulled out two ramen packets, looking at him with a raised brow. you then walked to your fridge, pulling out two eggs.

"you seem busy. making food." he swallowed thickly, watching as you placed the eggs to the side and put your pots of water on the stove before turning on the heat.

"i am kind of busy," you said pointedly, glancing at your pots of water before looking at the hero. the upper portion of your face was still hidden by your black mask, but ethan could see your indifferent gaze as you studied him. "why, do you wanna stay?"

the whites of his mask blinked at that. his mask, still pulled up to reveal half his face, revealed how he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, thinking about your offer. he seemed unsure. distrustful. exhausted; which honestly, made sense.

you gave him time to think as you turned to your now boiling water. you put the two eggs into one pot before opening the packets of ramen. but your actions faltered when you heard his response.

".. do you want me to stay?" the hero asked you, tilting his head slightly.

a beat. "no." you stated dryly, putting the ramen noodles into the water. "but i feel like you've been eyeing my food ever since i asked— it's kind of hard to tell with the whole mask thing —but i'm guessing you're hungry."

the parts of his face that were unmasked turned a soft shade of red at that. ethan cleared his throat, walking towards where you stood, he leaned on your counter with his back to the countertop. you could feel his eyes on you, watching you as you used a fork to mix the noodles in the boiling water.

"so you do want me to stay," he said with a ghost of a smile.

"no, i don't. but you're staying regardless, aren't you?"

"just for the food," he hummed. "and your cats."

"not for my presence, spider?" you asked, your flirtatious side coming out of you.

"your kind presence?" he tsked. "no." he said, making you roll your eyes. but he saw that rare, downturned smile that tugged at your lips.

his sister. quinn is his sister.

the sudden pause in your actions made ethan peer at you from behind his mask. the realization of what he had said dawned on him, his eyes widening from behind mask.

"she was like a sister to me."

he was lying to you.

you were both playing an unspoken game, two brilliant people with incredible abilities constantly one upping each other, catching onto the clues and making conclusions before the other could reach them. pushing and pulling, trying to solve a string of killers all while hiding who you really were from someone you found stitching up even though you knew you didn't have to.

you quickly returned to stitching him up, your hands now steady as you pushed the needle into his skin again. it reminded you so much of your past, how your world and your idea of your father turned completely sideways when you patched him up. the mere action of patching someone else up who wasn't you made turmoil brew in your eyes.

you were a selfish person. you had stepped on other criminals to get what you wanted, stepped on other people in order to achieve the highest reward; the criminal world knew better than to trust you completely for fear of your lies and manipulation. but to you, patching up someone's injury was something akin to sacred.

it meant you cared.

and that terrified you.

you came to one conclusion as you stitched up his wound for once, your memories were muffled, overtaken by the connection you had made.

ethan was spider-man.

and he knew you made that connection. just by how quiet you had gotten, just by how your hands, once trembling with the weight of the past, steadied.

you couldn't say anything. not without compromising your own true identity. not without compromising the deal you two had, because who would the police care about more, the identity of a superhero or the identity of a woman who had been stealing since she was a child? who had stolen files from their department and gave them to others without another word, who at times stole evidence just to be able to pay the rent.

you couldn't have him know. and you couldn't have him turn you in.

always one step ahead of him. but for some unknown reason, he could read you like his favorite book, and you could study him as though he was your favorite painting. it was as though your mind had chosen to learn his sincerity, and his learned the hidden meanings behind your written words.

but if you knew his family relations, just how close were you to the group? the fact that you most likely knew who he was behind the mask terrified him, because not only did he not know who you were, but you were only working with him because of a deal.

he couldn't turn you in if you helped him catch the killer.

feeding into your suspicions would only give you leverage above him. something to feed to the mafia, to the criminals, to anyone. and more people would get hurt.

you were untrustworthy. maybe it was because his sister died, or maybe because ethan had been stressing over everything so much that he found himself shutting down his emotions again and again for the sake of finding the killer.

he needed to get you away.

"i have to go." he stood up abruptly, his wound only halfway stitched up.

"what?" your eyes widened at his words. "now? i'm not even done stitching you up—"

"i'll do the rest myself."

"like hell you will," you snapped, the sudden change in his mood making you not only confused, but curious. "i'll finish it—" you protested, walking after him as he made his way to the window. but before he could shove your window open, he turned to you.

"why're you helping me?"

his question made your breath hitch, the words on your tongue dying as you blinked.

because i'm not as heartless as you think i am. oh, i also need you to not turn me into the police, so i can't have you dying in gale weather's apartment. but there's more to that.

"you patched me up," you forced out, "i'm returning the favor."

"you and i both know that you don't just patch people up like this." the whites of his mask narrowed at you, his heartbeat pumping loudly in his ears.

"what's that supposed to mean?" you asked slowly, suddenly annoyed at his words.

the hero let out a huff, his filter completely gone and manipulated by the constant stress and turmoil he had felt over the past week. "even the police know that you've manipulated your way around criminals and mafias because everyone knows you work alone," he said through gritted teeth. "you don't act kind just because you care—"

"fuck you," you seethed, but you couldn't deny it. you had a long history of manipulation, of acting for your own benefit and choosing yourself over others. and the deal to never get caught by him was still weighing on your mind.

"you act like you care to get your way. but if i'm wrong, then tell me." from behind the mask, ethan studied your face, brows furrowed when he looked at you. "tell me that you're not known for doing that. that you're not still in this because you're just trying to make sure i won't turn you in to the police in the future. tell me that you're genuinely starting to care, that you aren't just using me. tell me."

there was a beat of silence. your jaw clenched as you looked into the whites of his mask, not backing down from his stare. he was so close to you. his breath fanned over your lips, his own lips slightly parted.

it seemed as though the tension thickened with every passing second as you wracked your brain for what to say. for what to tell him.

because as much as he was correct, if you were to just agree, it didn't feel honest. there was more to your actions, but even you didn't know what it was.

but that was a lie too. you knew exactly why your actions were becoming more selfless, why you found yourself thinking about others more and more. thinking about him more and more.

you were getting attached.

and because you couldn't say anything, because you had never been good with speaking about your emotions, you did what your gut told you to.

you hooked your finger on the collar of his suit and tugged him in, pressing your lips to his. you felt his breath hitch before his hand went to your neck, slowly moving up to hold the back of your head as he pulled you closer to him, his other hand pulling your waist closer to his body. your senses were full of him and only him, how he smelled like like cedarwood and musk, how he tasted sweet despite the blood he spat from his mouth earlier, how he was so warm, like a furnace that soothed your cold limbs.

you pulled away from him, your forehead resting on his. a single string of spit connecting the both of your lips with a single horizontal swipe of your tongue across your bottom lip, the connection was broken.

his adam's apple bobbed as his heavy breaths matched yours. "please tell me you're not just in it for the deal anymore."

your lack of a response made his heart ache. he searched for any sign of hesitancy in your eyes, something, anything to showed that you cared, but you avoided his gaze.

the deal still mattered to you. you were using him to evade police. his face fell at the realization.

the hero scoffed in disbelief, pulling away from you. just like that, your limbs were pulled away from the heat, your world didn't smell like cedarwood and him, and the taste of pennies was all you could feel on your tongue. "right." his finger hooked over where his mask was pulled up, pulling it down over the rest of his face as he opened your window. without another word, he swung away, making you clench your fists in frustration.

in the end, you always had yourself.

you tore your mask off your head, frustrated tears burning behind your eyes as you moved to your window and shut it, this time, making sure you locked it behind you.

"you're a liar! let me go—" you kicked against the man's arms that wrapped around you as though you were practically nothing but a box he had to carry. tears blurred your vision as you looked at the man in front of you, his grey eyes cold as he looked at you.

you used to look up to him. your father used to bring him into your home— the only person you ever remembered visiting —introducing him as frank costa. uncle frank.

he had taken you in after your father had died. cared for you, fed you, provided you shelter. you were 16 now, making it six years since he stepped in as your father figure. six years since he claimed that as your father's best friend, that he felt like it was his duty to care for you.

it was all a lie. it was all a lie, because he was the reason why your father was caught escaping prison. it was all because of him.

"let me go!" you cried, your screams of betrayal turning into sobs as your head hung low, tears dripping onto the concrete floor. he was using you. using you to continuously steal for him in exchange for the simple necessities you needed to survive. and as you grew older, as your skills became more precise, so did his greed. your thefts grew larger. pick pocketed wallets became jewelry from houses, and then that became jewelry from museums.

you were being used. used for your skills, trained to become some thief simply to survive a day.

"i always guessed that this day would come, you know," frank said, looking at you as though you were nothing. as though those years of pretending to care was finally coming out for what it truly was; hatred. pure contempt. "you were always so clever. just like your fucking father." he punched you in the face, making you groan in pain when you felt a crack in your nose. "so fucking stupid. refusing the biggest crime family in new york for what? for nothing." another punch to the other side of your face. his crony let you go, making you fall on the floor.

a swift kick to your side made you taste iron. another kick to your back made you nearly lose consciousness.

frank grabbed you by the collar, lifting you up to study you cruelly. there wasn't anything in his eyes as he admired his work of bruises and injuries, watching as blood flowed from your nose like a continuous faucet. your eyes were half lidded as you drifted in and out of consciousness. the weight of your head was too much for you, and you found yourself struggling to keep it up.

and when you found the little bit of strength to do so, you spat in his face, the splatter bloody along the expanse of his cheek. but as you spat, your hand also curled around the gun he kept at his side.

"you fucking bitch," frank sneered at you before shoving you to the ground again, making you skid against the concrete. the rough graveled ground made gashes all along your exposed arms and legs, and you found yourself lying in a fetus position, cradling the gun to your chest to hide it from them.

and as he and his worker advanced towards you, ready to beat you to death, you pointed the gun towards them and shot them both. his worker in the head, frank in the chest.

you listened as frank choked on his own blood next to you. you sat there in that empty warehouse, listening to the squelching sounds of blood pouring from frank's mouth. pulling your legs to your chest, feeling the continuous pain from all over your body, you cried. you cried like the 16 year old you were, your back heaving with every gut-wrenching sob you let echo around you. when that was all you heard, when you were surrounded by your own sobs, you realized just how lonely you were. how you had no one, and how you wished that someone would come in to care for you. but no one did.

no one was looking for you, no one comforted you. because all you had was yourself.

patrol was quieter when he was alone.

ethan realized that now, as he watched policemen fix the caution tapes around the carpenter sisters' apartment. usually he wasn't one to shy away from playful banter with the policemen (as he felt as though they all had sticks up their asses in some way), but he had no energy. no drive. he hadn't, not for a while.

without you shamelessly commenting on everything and humoring him with your dry humor, he found the nights to be quieter. not necessarily more peaceful, but quieter regardless. ethan wasn't sure if he appreciated it, but it's what he wanted.

his mind was full of the killer, his sister, and most importantly, you. how you seemingly oozed distrust, how your appreciation and oftentimes liking for your position as a criminal made you the last person many people would choose as an ally.

but then his mind drifted to how you didn't hesitate to drag him into your home and patch him up. how, despite the memories that obviously plagued your mind, you forced yourself to continue on.

but then brought up the question of your possible knowledge of his identity. why didn't you say anything? admitting his true name did make him realize that you probably did know him outside of his mask. and that would make him suspicious of your identity.

it was all too complicated, and ethan felt so many emotions at this point, that he just felt numb. apathetic. like a mindless robot going about his day, eating with no appetite, drinking with no thirst. just surviving.

it had carried on even in his day to day activities outside of superhero work. it had been three days since the last attack, and everyone was surprised that there had been nothing. no threats, no calls, nothing. but even though everyone was surprised and only mildly pleased, they were still all on edge.

the door to his and chad's dorm opened as tara walked in with mindy. ethan didn't look up from his position on the couch, only raising his hand in a half assed wave towards them. his eyes were set on his phone as he mindlessly scrolled through social media, ready to drown out whatever they were talking about.

"we were gonna stay in tonight, maybe order takeout. it isn't safe for us to all be split up," tara said to you as you hesitantly walked into chad and ethan's dorm.

"you should join, y/n. you know, just so that we can watch over you," mindy stated, and you shrugged as you closed the door behind you. if anything, you appreciated mindy's honesty more than most.

"why not," you said in response, face falling when your eyes landed on ethan's. he seemed to not expect your presence either as he stared at you, his lips slightly parted, throat suddenly dry, face slightly flushed.

there it was again, that sense of familiarity he felt.

"hi," ethan said awkwardly, swallowing thickly as he quickly moved a bit to the side of the couch just in case you wanted to sit. "i— uh, haven't seen you in a while."

but he had. you forced a tight-lipped smile, one that didn't really reach your eyes as you took his silent offer and sat on the other side of the couch. "thanks," you murmured, looking away from him to stare at the t.v that played some show.

a beat of silence. "are you okay?" he suddenly asked you, making you glance at him. those brown eyes of his— the same eyes you always wondered were behind the mask —stared at you expectingly.

"i should be asking you that," you replied smoothly, easily lying past your emotions.

"but i asked you first."

"so?"

"so, you answer first. c'mon," ethan pushed, worry flashing in his eyes as he noted your lack of sleep.

you blinked at him. "i'm fine. i feel.. fine." another lie. "your turn to answer."

ethan shrugged, looking at the t.v show. "better than before, in some ways. i guess."

"hey—" mindy walked out of chad's room to look at the both of you, her hand covering the bottom of her phone. "i'm ordering chinese takeout right now. what did you two want?"

you thought for a second. "is it from the place on mott street?"

she nodded.

"i'll have the braised noodles and beef." you caught the look ethan gave you from the corner of your eye. "what? that place is good."

a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. "i'll have the same thing," he told mindy, who gave them both a thumbs up before disappearing into chad's room again. "d'you eat there a lot?" ethan asked you, unable to stop his curiosity.

"i did. used to be my favorite place when i was younger." you tilted your head slightly as you turned your body a bit to face him. as he spoke, it made more and more sense for him to be the web-slinging hero. ethan was more serious when he was behind the mask, sure, but the way he talked was the same.

"i haven't had the time to try as many restaurants around here as i wanted to," ethan said.

"i can bring you to my favorite spots some time." the offer fell from your mouth before you could catch it, but it made a genuine, hopeful smile appear on his face.

his smile was the same too.

you turned your body away from him and didn't speak to him after that. you had to keep yourself away from him. there was no reason for you to care.

an hour and a half passed before the food actually arrived. the entire group— tara, sam, sam's boyfriend (danny, you learned his name was), mindy, and chad —all sat in the living room, some of them sitting on the floor.

"we are not watching a scary movie, mindy! this is arguably the worst time to do that!" chad said to his twin, who only rolled her eyes stubbornly.

"the original nightmare on elm street is literally a masterpiece— chad, give me the remote!" she lunged towards him as he held it away from her, their bickering making you watch on interestedly.

you slurped a noodle, chewing it briefly before swallowing. "are they always like this?" you murmured to yourself, watching as mindy finally snatched the remote from chad. sam and danny occupied the other half of the couch, making you (much to your chagrin) move closer to ethan.

noodles slipped from his chopsticks again, a frustrated huff escaping him as he tried to pick it up again. his focus was honed into trying to pick up the noodle, so much so, that he didn't answer your question.

you turned to him, the past promise you made yourself to try and not engage faltering as you watched him amusedly. you watched for a minute until he realized you were staring, his cheeks flaring in embarrassment.

"thanks for the help, y/n," ethan muttered sarcastically. he watched as a genuine smile tugged at your lips. a downturned one, one that fit you so well, one that made ethan's eyes widen when he figured it all out.

"not for my presence, spider?" you asked, your flirtatious side coming out of you.

"your kind presence?" he tsked. "no." he said, making you roll your eyes. but he saw that rare, downturned smile that tugged at your lips.

it was you. it had been you the entire time.

and you saw the slow realization dawn over his face. the way his face paled, the way his chopsticks fell into the takeout box. the way he breathed, "you," as he stared. he finally figured it all out.

"i have to go," were the first words that fell from your mouth right as the movie began. you ignored the protests from the others as you carefully moved past them, grabbing your coat from the hook near the door.

"nightmare on elm street was about to start!" mindy protested behind you.

"y/n," ethan said, hurriedly putting his takeout on the side table. he would've nearly dropped it if it weren't for his quick reflexes, catching the box before it could drop. and spill. further. but when he looked back at the door, the door was already shutting.

the cold air hit you harshly as you walked out of the dorm building. the starless sky only held the moon as it shone down onto you, joining the street lamps as you walked down the pavement trail. hugging your leather jacket around you, your steps were quick as you made your way to your car, heart beating quickly in your ears.

"y/n!"

ethan's voice called after you, making your blood run cold. "go away," you snapped, ignoring the hoarseness of your voice as you tried to keep walking away. but he was quick to follow.

"just talk to me—"

"talk to you?" that made you turn around and look at him, an incredulous look on your face. "after all the shit you told me? after what you said?"

"you didn't deny any of it, did you?" ethan retorted, hurt and guilt flashing in his eyes. "when i asked you if you were starting to care, you said nothing." his eyes looked over your face. "i asked you to say you weren't just using me and you said nothing. you couldn't even deny it—"

"why does it matter?" you laughed in disbelief. "why do you care so much? you said it before, right? i'm the criminal? you're the hero?" you demanded, jabbing a finger to his chest.

ethan's jaw clenched in frustration as he looked at you, feeling every jab of your finger. "i didn't want you to just see me as some way to get away from the police—"

"then how do you want me to see you, ethan?" you bit back.

"as someone you can fucking care for, y/n!" he snapped. "as someone you can trust! as someone beyond just a guy you made a deal with!" his confession rang in the air, his chest heaving at his outburst. ethan's gaze was hard as he stared at you. "i wanted you," he breathed out, "to care for me as much as i was starting to care for you."

your cold gazed faltered for a moment at that. ethan was searching your eyes for something, for any sign of care, but as soon as he saw it, it disappeared.

you only had yourself. you only had yourself. he did not deserve to have someone like you.

he deserved better.

"most of the mafias knew nothing about the killer. some even admired him." you avoided his gaze, turning slightly away from him. "i'll go with the group to the theatre tomorrow, and after that, that's it. my part of the deal is done." you tried to walk away from him, but his hand took your wrist, stopping you.

you turned to look at him, eyes shining with the possibility of tears. the once lighthearted eyes of his had lost all the spark in them as he looked at you. studying you like you studied your favorite paintings. taking in your every feature, your every angle, your every imperfection. "do you really not care about me?" the question came out as a breath, his heart beating loudly in his chest as you looked at him.

you could feel tears threatening to feel. your nerves were going haywire from the argument, but also because of the fear you felt. the fear of caring for someone so much.

how could he care for you as much as you cared about him?

you shook your head. ethan's heart broke.

ACT V

#AUTHOR'S NOTE— sorry again for the fact that i had to split the last part into two parts. there's still the next part left & the epilogue!

#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

rewatching the hunger games rn and peeta is so soft and sweet and clingy and obsessive but so gentle all at once i love him so bad.

part 2 of jack champion hcs 👩‍🦽👩‍🦽👩‍🦽

sure thing 𐐪𐑂

pretty boy part 2 :)

m! speaks : you ask and you shall receive <3

* .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

the lalalalalala to your okokokokokok

always finding an excuse to hang out

even if you guys are just sitting in silence he just loves to be in your presence

he’s seen all the edits.. in fact y’all go through them together seeing which ones are the best

your little dancing boy

after every movie premiere he takes you to join the cast at the after parties ( best believe y’all are on the dance floor IMMEDIATELY )

golden retriever x black cat 🤭🤭🤭

he always accidentally spoils his movies for you

he tries to keep it in but poor baby is just too excited

he definitely would dedicate ‘my kind of woman’ by mac demarco as your song

that was the song he first ever posted you to 🥲

an absolute attention whore

wants your attention 25/8 and WILL do anything to get it

refers to you as m’lady to mess with you

uses the MOST CRINGE PET NAMES EVER cause he knows you hate it

“hi bubby wubby”

“absolutely not”

will protect you from the paparazzi if they become too much

“do you wanna go? we can go its okay baby, I don’t mind”

but if it’s just a few fans he will always pull you to join in on the photos ( he knows how much the fans adore you as well )

words of affirmation 🤝 jack champion

he’s always reassuring you even if you don’t need

“i love you so much”

“you’re the only one for me”

he absolutely adores bringing you around his cast mates

he loves you so much it’s so important to him that his friends love you too

he 100% does the thumb thing when holding ur hand

100% follows the sidewalk rule

he treats you the same as he did in the beginning, like he’s still trying to win you over ( even tho he 100% owns ur heart )

you making fun of his cringe videos from his younger years

“ THERE ARE GIANTS IN THE SKYYYAAAAUHH”

“Y/N AGAIN?”

“pythagorean theorem”

“laugh all you want but I got an A for that”

mans is so sassy istg

hands on his hips and everything

called you a sussy baka once and you ignored him for three hours

he knew to never do that again…

* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

ty guys sm for all the love on my last fic as it was my first one ever! I really appreciate y’all hopefully y’all stick around and enjoy! <3

hey stephen- s. conklin

(in an attempt to cool off with some drinks on a hot day, you manage to snack some refreshing sweet teas and the eye of one tall glass of water)

omfg pls don't kill me for that summary

s. conklin x reader

2nd person pov, WC: 496

warnings: none, kind of awkward. otherwise fluff (UNEDITIED)

Steven Conklin was his own kind of man. He was more reserved than Jeremiah, but was nothing like Conrad. He loved the idea of romance, but nothing like his little sister. And most of all he loved his natural dark and shiny hair, but it was nothing in comparison to Conrad’s.

He was average, to the majority of onlookers. Even to himself. But to you, he was probably the closest one could get to prefect. A mix of the best worlds and none of the worst.

---

The very first time you had met him was at the country club. You and Gigi had decided to cool off at the club during one of the hottest days of the year. As she harassed yet another lifeguard, you had made your way over the drink counter for some needed shade and refreshments. 

“Hey, what can I get cha’” Steven asked, seeming as normal as anyone. But on the inside, this man was experiencing all the stages of love and grief simultaneously. He insides seemed to Olympic level gymnasts and Taylor Swift’s “You Belong With Me” queued up in his head.

“Hi, just two iced teas, please,” you smile. The boy in front of you winked and made his way to grab your drinks as you fumbled with your wallet. It seemed, as cliche as it was, like time had slowed and that boy's gorgeous face was forever seared into your brain. 

After a long 20 seconds, Steven returned with drinks in his hands. “There ya go” 

You smile, handing him a ten over the counter.

“No ma’am. It’s on the house,” he winks again, desperately trying to act as if the red on his cheeks was from the heat and not you.

“Please, let me pay! I’ll feel guilty!” You laugh, shoving the ten back towards him. He throws his hands in the air and back away, shaking his head.

“No, I insist. Pretty ladies don’t pay for drinks.” It slides out of his mouth before he can stop it, shocking the both of you. To the other both of you seem to let it slide, laughing it off. But inside both you were short circuiting. 

“Well, thank you,” you nervously giggle, stashing the ten away. As you grab the drinks, Gigi calls your name in the distance, begging for a sip of something.

“Steven by the way,” he says, motioning towards his name tag. While you thought it was adorable, Steven internally slaps himself for being so corny.

“Like, Hey Stephen. Taylor Swift.”

“Yep, she wrote it just for me, don’t tell anyone,”

“Oh don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me, Steven.” you laugh, turning away with the drinks as Gigi yells for you once again. 

As you walk away, Steven makes a mental note of how his name sounds from your mouth, replaying the sounds over and over. 

That may have been the first time you guys had met, but it sure wouldn’t be the last.

where is my cam cameron fics??!

Hii I love your work and I have this idea for a while so I hope that you could write it!!

Could you maybe do like based on the last video from Beta, the one in the hotel, where like your a guest and there’s like alove connection with one of the members.

I would really love if it could be like Niko or Chunkz but you write with who you want!!!

Room Service - Chunkz

Summary: You thought you'd signed up for a chaotic night at a YouTuber-run hotel, but instead, you ended up being flirted into a four-course crush by Chunkz with special room service, dessert, and all.

Pairing: Chunkz x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Masterlist

You didn't expect much when your friend surprised you with a last-minute night at a "five-star hotel" run by YouTubers. Honestly, it sounded chaotic. But you went along, suitcase in hand, rolling up to the front desk where Niko and Kenny were already bickering over who had to handle the next guest complaint.

Your check-in was clumsy at best. Kenny handed you a room key, while Niko with his dead serious exprression while he offered a foot massage "for special guests only." You laughed it off, amused but not exactly hopeful, and headed upstairs.

Only to find that Niko had confidently given you a keycard to a room already occupied by a family of four.

You stood in the hallway awkwardly, reevaluating your life choices and adding this moment to your top ten most embarrassing experiences of all time.

Deciding you'd had enough, you wandered back downstairs to the kitchen area Niko had said was "open 24/7" hoping to at least grab a snack while you sorted things out.

And then, he walked in.

Chunkz. Of course you weren't expecting him. Not like that.

He strolled in beside Aj, both of them standing behind the restaurant counter like they belonged in a Michelin-starred kitchen. Aj looked focused, surprisingly serious. Chunkz was laughing at something Aj said, his energy calm but magnetic. You had to give it to him, he looked like he was really trying, taking this whole fake hotel gig more seriously than you'd expected.

And then he looked up.

His eyes met yours, just for a second. Then he smiled, lazy and confident like he already knew how your night was going to end.

"You lost? Or you just came here for me?" Chunkz asked strolling your way with that smug, teasing grin.

"I'm still having problems with my room. The receptionist may have made a mistake..." You said with a shrug.

"I'll show you up, don't want you running into any more... surprises" Chunkz offered, already turning to walk with you, flashing another grin.

"One of the receptionists told me I could come down here anytime" You added, glancing toward the kitchen.

"We're closed for now, it opens again later" Aj cut in. 

"Why are those two setting us up, man?!" Aj said to the camera.

"Those schmucks probably did it on purpose" Chunkz said, not sounding the least bit mad about it. 

"But I don't mind helping you out" Chunkz added with a small smile.

AJ muttered something about "betraying the team" as you followed Chunkz to the lift, tension crackling like static. You weren't blind, he was handsome, obviously but it was how he carried himself. Smooth. Effortless. That kind of charm that made you feel like the only person in the room when he spoke to you.

"So, what brings you to the Beta Hotel?" Chunkz asked as the elevator doors closed.

"Needed a break, didn't think I'd be walking into a reality show" You replied, laughing softly.

"We take hospitality very seriously here" Chunkz said with a grin. 

"You might even get a serenade at dinner" Chunkz added.

"You sing?" You raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"I do a lot of things" Chunkz replied smoothly, his gaze flicking briefly to your mouth before darting away. 

"But only for the right guests" Chunkz added.

Your new room was cleaner, tucked in a quiet corner of the hotel. Chunkz handed you a keycard Aj had found back in one of the tables in the restaurant, one of the master keys, if his smirk was anything to go by. His fingers brushed yours, lingering longer than necessary.

"If you're coming down to dinner" Chunkz said, voice a little softer now, 

"Let me know, I'll save you a seat" Chunkz added.

"Only if you're serving" You replied, leaning against the doorframe.

"Then I guess I'll see you tonight" Chunkz said as he stepped back slowly, like he wasn't quite ready to leave.

Then came dinner.

You hadn't planned on flirting. You hadn't planned on smiling at your phone every time he cracked a joke over dinner 

Dinner turned into a long conversation. Chunkz brought your plate himself, ignored AJ's annoyed looks, and kept coming back to your table like you were a VIP guest.

By dessert, you weren't even hungry. You were laughing too much. Leaning closer. Watching his hands. His grin. The low, smooth confidence in his voice that made you forget you were in a hotel run by chaos.

At the end of the night, he walked you back to your room. The hallway was quiet. But his voice was warm in your ear as you stopped outside your door. 

"You sure this is your room?" Chunkz teased, silent referral with the room confusion earlier.

"Wanna check?" You said as you glanced at him. 

"You're trouble" Chunkz said as he chuckled, eyes flicking to your lips before rising back to meet your eyes.

"And you're serving me a four-course flirt" You said, smiling.

Something electric hung in the air between you. Then, he gently tucked the keycard into your hand that must have slipped from your hand.

"Goodnight, beautiful" Chunkz murmured. 

"Sleep tight, breakfast's on me in the morning" Chunkz added.

You watched him walk away, already wondering what you'd order. 

Probably him. 

And you definitely hadn't planned on leaning against your hotel door later that night when he brought up your dessert himself with tray in hand and that same damn smile on his lips.

"Just wanted to make sure your night ended sweet" Chunkz murmured, gaze locking onto yours for a second too long.

And somehow, one night didn't feel like enough anymore.

////_////_////_////

Chunkz was still smiling when he made it back to the kitchen, fingers warm from where they'd brushed yours. He didn't usually get caught up like this, but you? You were different. Sharp. Unbothered. Playful. The kind of woman who could flirt without trying and still leave him speechless.

He barely made it two steps inside before Aj clocked him.

"Ohhh, so you really walked her to her room, yeah?" Aj teased as he leaned against the prep counter, grinning. 

"That's mad, man gave full escort service" Aj said as he laughed.

"Customer service is important, bro" Chunkz said as he smirked, trying to play it cool.

"Customer service? Bro, that woman earlier asked you to join her in the room multiple times yet you turned her down multiple times too" Aj said with a raised eyebrow yet the smile isn't leaving his face.

"She's too old for me, fam. What's with these old horny women anyways?" Chunkz said.

"She had cougar confidence" Aj said as he cackled. 

"Then ten minutes later, you're out here walking the baddest guest we've had all night to her room? Nah, I rate it. Man's got range" Aj said, expression amused.

Chunkz rolled his eyes, but a faint pink crept up his ears.

"I invited her to breakfast, actually" Chunkz said with a smug smile.

"Room service and breakfast?" Aj said as he dramatically gasped. 

"You moving like a whole staycation package" Aj said.

Chunkz tried not to smile. Tried. Failed. You'd thrown him off his game but in a way he didn't mind at all.

"She's fire though" Aj added, sounding more like a proud wingman now. 

"I saw her walk in and I knew you jokeman was gonna clock her straight away. The way you dropped that dessert tray? Embarrassing" Aj said, smirking.

"It was one tray, relax. I was distracted" Chunkz said, giving Aj a brief side eye.

"Props though, you were trying to be respectful by costing our team to lose" Aj said.

"Yeah, well, don't let Kenny or Niko find out. Kenny's already asking if he can help with room service tomorrow" Aj added.

"Over my dead body" Chunkz said as gave him a look. 

"Mans already acting like it's his hotel wife" Aj laughed.

Chunkz just smiled to himself, slowly rolling a towel between his fingers. The thought of you upstairs and maybe still thinking about him, had him already looking forward to breakfast duty.

Yeah, he'd be there.

Fresh shirt, and best cologne.

And maybe, just maybe, dessert before noon.

- end -

Hello lovelies!! See? Consistency from me lmao 

Another Chunkz because my man deserves love like this and I see not too many fics for him. For all the Chunkz girlies.

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

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

Ahhhhh hunger games !!!! If you'd like, could you do something with finnici where r was in the blood rain and reunites with the group. r is super out of it and shaken up from it and finnick helps them clean off the blood? I'm envisioning the vibes of how katniss helped wiress if that makes sense. thanks!!!

here it is tysm for the request anon i hope you like it 💝

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎page ──── three

약한영웅 characters when you cry while patching them up ˳ ۫ 𓈅

includes class 2 + suho 𔓕 gn!reader 𔓕 w.c 3.4k+

genres — established relationship, fluff, hurt / comfort

click to continue reading! 𔓕 based on this request

warnings. mentions of blood, injuries, bruises, dacryphilia (?), canon-typical violence.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ yeon sieun

Baku had called you, his voice was weighed with worry as he told you Sieun was hurt badly and unconscious. Your heart had sunk right there, the world had become blurry. Everything that came out of Baku’s mouth through the phone sounded so far away, as if someone had put your head underwater. you had felt like your legs would give up any second.

You had rushed with some first aid to Eunjang right away, fighting the fidgety feeling and anxiety you felt the entire bus ride. When you reached the secret hangout room you found three of the four boys hurt, one of them— your Sieun, lying down, and unconscious.

You had questioned and scolded them but they knew your anger came from a place of concern. Juntae had said that he and Gotak were fine, he had half-lied. All three of them had come to some unspoken agreement to leave you with Sieun alone to patch him up.

Your chest tightens as you settle near Sieun, slowly moving his hair out of his forehead to look at his wounds. Red bruises abloom on both his cheeks and forehead, gashes on both his cheek bones and a busted lip— just what was he upto?

You start by cleaning his chin and hands with wet wipes. You then disinfect his face and forehead, your breathing becomes heavier. You don't know how to clean his lips properly, after all you're not a medical professional, so you just opt to clean the area around his mouth properly. Your eyes start to burn a little, your heart is getting heavier each passing second.

Sieun’s eyes flicker open, his gaze is far away but he soon notices your presence, you are trying to rip a bandaid out of its packaging. He calls out your name, his voice is shaky and hoarse.

You turn towards him, a wave of relief washing over you as you notice him awake. He tries to get up but you push him down to rest, your attempts are futile as he sits straight anyway. He looks dazed.

“Sieun-ah,” You say, you don't add anything else, unable to think of a proper statement. Your eyes start to burn again, you try to blink it away but instead tears start to trail down your cheek. Sieun mirrors your expression. His eyes redden as tears collect.

“I’m sorry.” He utters, raw and pained. Your chest tightens and a lump forms in your throat.

“It’s okay, I am here now.” You breathe out, your voice is weak despite nothing being okay, you try to be strong.

“No, no, I am sorry.” His words are a little slurred and drawled as repeats. You take his hand in your own, holding it gently, you start to run your fingers over his hand in soothing motions. Your touch is feather light, as if you're afraid that you'll break Sieun. He stops you and grips your fingers lightly with his own, signaling for you to respond. Your vision is getting a little blurred but you hold it in for Sieun’s sake.

“Okay.” You say, your voice is weak. “I accept your apology. Now, let me put this bandaid on you.”

Sieun switches from holding your hand to gripping your sleeve between his fingers. You peel off the wrapper and put the bandaid on his cheekbone gently. Sieun’s eyes start to water. You wipe them with the back of your fingers before they can fall past his under eyes.

“They… your tears… they will burn your wounds. So, stop, okay? There's no need to cry, okay? I am here now.” You speak softly.

You usher him to lay down, his hand holding onto yours firmly. He does not want to let you go. You bring his hand towards your face and press a faint kiss on the back of his hand. His grip loosens slightly as he passes out again.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ahn suho

To say you were pissed would be an understatement. You were beyond angry at this point. As you put a dressing on his forearm, Suho finally breaks the silence.

“Wanna go to noraebang?” Typical Suho. Typical Suho behaviour. Always trying to change the topic.

“No.” You say.

“C’mon, I’ll take you to eat ice-cream after.” He tries to persuade you, taking your hands in his own, entwining softly. Subtly indicating that he doesn't want to talk about this, trying to put on an act to pretend that this never happened.

“No.” You repeat standing your ground.

He pouts as you retreat your hands and continue to apply ointment on his scratches.

“No use in pouting. I thought you were over this shit, beating up people and getting hurt.”

He doesn't respond so you refuse to meet his eyes. You start to apply some gel on the scratches of his face and he starts to pucker his lips, asking for a kiss. You put your palm on his lips.

“Stop it.” He licks your palm instead—? You withdraw your hand and smack him.

Wiping your hand with his uniform, you go back to applying the gel. Suho realises you're both awfully close, your face near his own. He looks at you, your face, how you have a little pout and how your eyebrows are furrowed as you delicately apply the ointment on him.

He notices how your lips tremble a little and your eyes are blinking a lot. Are you holding in your tears?

“Hey.” He holds your wrist. “I’m–”

“What?” You finally break– tears brim and fall out of your eyes. This time, you pretend. You pretend that you are not crying. You try to go back to patching him but his hold on your wrists is too strong.

“Hey, hey.” He utters softly, his voice sounds apologetic.“I’m… sorry. I know I told you I won't do this anymore but… it just happened.”

You bite the insides of your cheeks avoiding his gaze and silently sniffle and Suho’s heart breaks.

“Oh my.” He mutters under his breath, his hands quickly reach your face, palms holding your face like you were some fragile porcelain. His thumbs wipe your tears tenderly.

“I’m sorry, Y/n-ssi.” And with that, he kisses your nose. “It won't… I'll try to make sure it does not happen again.” He kisses your forehead next. “So, now please,” He kisses your philtrum, “Please, stop crying. It breaks my heart to see you like this.”

He continues to kiss your face until you break into giggles.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ seo juntae

Juntae looks at you like a puppy kicked by a human, eyes downcast and filled with tears, feeling as though it was something that was his mistake. His eyes don't leave your hands.

You are fuming. Brows furrowed together, you are taking long breaths to calm yourself down. You angrily rip off a medicine’s covering and Juntae gulps.

You turn your face towards him and he looks at you and then, quickly looks away. He feels guilty.

You both are on a bench in a park near the pharmacy you just visited. Juntae got beat up by some bullies and you had dragged him to the pharmacy despite him saying it was okay.

Juntae wonders if you're mad at him. You're not. You know that.

You take off his glasses, gently putting them away. You start to dab away the dirt and blood from his face, your touches are feather light. He winces. He thinks it ticked you off because you stop and discard the cotton ball.

“I know… that it hurts you every time I get…hurt. I'm sorry.” He says, you look away. He's afraid he might lose you if this continues, he doesn't want that to happen ever. He holds your hands, clasping your fingers with his own.

“Please don't be mad at me.” It breaks something inside of you.

Your anger melts and turns into something else. It turns into the tears in your eyes, you hold them in. Your nose feels tingly and your mouth feels strangely wet. Your lips are pursed, you are taking in his words, letting them settle in your mind. They feel heavy. You take a deep breath as the tears threaten to fall. You face him again.

This time the look in your face is not of annoyance but of hurt, your brows are no longer furrowed together, your eyelashes are wet with tears that might fall any second. Juntae feels guilty.

“I am not mad at you.” You say and then it happens. The tears start to cascade down slowly. Juntae’s lips quiver. You take your hands back and wipe your tears.

“I don't know why you think I'm mad at you. I'm just… frustrated about this situation. I worry for you, Juntae-ya. Every few days you show up with these new wounds and bruises, I feel sad. I don't know what you're up to, but…” You stop as you don't know what to say.

Juntae feels as if his insides got ripped out and seared, his eyes start to water instantly at this sight. Just how could he be the reason of your tears?

His hand reaches out hesitant towards you, shaking a little and it finally finds your back. He starts to rub you with one hand and takes out a napkin with another. He uses it to wipe your tears.

“I…am sorry. Please don't cry.”

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ go ‘gotak’ hyuntak

“Does it cost money to be careful?” You mumble under your breath but they're still loud enough to be heard by Hyuntak. You did it intentionally.

“What? Aren't I supposed to be the one nagging you?” He sounds offended. “And if it really did cost money, you’d be evading–” You respond with a smack on the top of his head before he can even finish.

“Beggars can't be choosers.” You confuse him.

“That's literally not how the saying works. Ah–” You're now pulling his right ear.

“Can you stop abusing me?” He grumbles.

“Can you stop abusing me?” You mock him snottily.

Gotak realises there's no point in arguing with you further so he doesn't say anything. Instead, he looks away as you work on patching him up. You put gauze around his arm and some bandaids over his knuckles. You soon start to clean his face and that's when he finally turns towards you.

A q-tip is between your thumb and index finger layered with some gel, you're gently applying it to the corner of Gotak’s lips. He suddenly becomes hyper-aware about everything and his skin prickles with goosebumps.

Gotak realises that your sole focus is on his lips and blood rushes to his face, his ears reddening with every passing second. This close proximity isn't something that's rare but it's something that's not frequent either. Your dynamic has always been like this—too shy to be close and too committed to be farther than an arm’s distance.

Gotak takes in your features. Your eyes are glassy but focused on his lips and your nose seems a little red. Your bottom lip is between your teeth to stop it from trembling. You look like you're on the verge of crying. Shit.

“So, um…” Gotak starts, his intention is to distract you so you don't end up actually crying.

You hum in response. You finish up taking care of his lip and put away the q-tip in a plastic bag. Gotak looks at you, unable to muster up his words. He should’ve thought before starting to speak!

“So, yeah.”

You look at him incredulously, eyebrows raised but eyes still glassy, tears still sticking to your lashes.

“What?” You say.

You hear Gotak mumble a small Fuck this before he pulls you into his arms. One of his hands snakes through your back to your head, holding it gently. Gotak starts to pat you slowly. He then kisses the crown of your head.

“I’ll be careful next time.”

“Yeah. You better be.”

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ park 'baku' humin

Baku had showed up to your home bloodied and bruised with his stupid injuries and wounds. You had led him to your living room, your parents weren't home fortunately. You wouldn't have to explain why there was a badly beat up boy in your living space.

This brings you to your current predicament— crouched in front of Baku as he sat on the sofa, cleaning the dried blood clinging to his knuckles. You work in silence and Baku lets you. He doesn't speak and neither do you. You don't ask or question. He doesn't tell you what happened.

But the silence is oh so suffocating. There is a lump in your throat that won't go down now matter how much you swallow and tears are pricking the inner corners of your eyes. After you're done cleaning his hands you settle yourself on the sofa and start to clean his face.

Baku is strong, that is a fact. He never loses, that is another fact. But he is not invincible or immune to getting hurt. He bleeds and bruises just like everyone else. He feels pain too. That is evident in how he winces when you apply cream on his knuckles before you put on a bandaid. That is also evident in the way he hisses in pain when you dab the cut on his face with a cotton ball covered in disinfectant.

It is also evident in the way his heart aches when he notices your hands trembling and your eyes watering. You sniffle involuntarily. Baku wants to scratch his face. His eyes become glassy.

He calls out your name delicately as if it was a glass sculpture that could break if his voice was any louder.

And your tears spill. You bite your bottom lip to try and hold it in but there's no use.

Humin takes the cotton ball from your hand and places it on the center table. His hands wrap around your torso and he pulls you into his embrace. No words are exchanged. Sometimes, words aren't needed to communicate. Actions are enough.

With your head on his chest and his arms around you firmly, he pulls you under his chin. He lets you cry it out. You must be scared after seeing him hurt so badly.

He starts to run soothing circles on your back with his hand until you calm down.

“I’m sorry.” He says finally breaking the silence. “I won't get hurt this badly next time.”

“So you plan on getting hurt again?”

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ geum seongje

You are everything Geum Seongje is not– quiet, kind and gentle. Maybe that's why you're both together. Opposites attract or something.

But Outside Geum Seongje is different from Inside Geum Seongje. Inside Geum Seongje is reserved just for you. His words don't bite and he kisses with his lips instead of his fists. His eyes don't carry that crazed look, but a look of comfort and relaxation. He's not the adrenaline crazy wolf but a person who seeks softness and love.

One might think Seongje is the antonym of words like love, gentleness, kindness, softness etc. but that would be false. Seongje loves in his own way. He is cruel, yes, but there is certain gentleness when he pulls you into hugs. Geum Seongje knows mercy too. He is not soft like others but his edges and sharpness dull a little every time he's with you.

Maybe that's why he always seeks for you when he's injured. You offer him a quiet haven in your heart for nothing in exchange. You don't judge him. You don't ask questions. You don't look at him with fear or inferiority.

That's why he always crashes at your apartment after a big fight. You patch him up and offer him a warm meal. You offer him warmth no one else ever does.

Seongje looks at you confused. Your eyes are red and flowing with tears as you clean his bloodied knuckles. He does not understand why you're crying. But you look pretty, he doesn't want to question anything.

“I won, you know.” He breaks the silence.

“Yeah, I know.” You say, holding in a sniffle.

“So why are you crying?”

“Because you're hurt?”

Bloodied knuckles, busted lip, a black eye and different reds blooming under his skin on his body.

“You lack a sense of self preservation.” Seongje doesn't reply, he just studies your features. There's something unreadable in his expression. He silently acknowledges what you said as true. He doesn't know what to do when you sniffle and when your tears don't stop.

When you're finally done patching him up, you get up. He holds your wrist.

“The vegetables will get charred.” You say referring to the veggies on the pan you left unattended to focus on Seongje.

“Stay.” The ‘Please’ is left unsaid.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ na baekjin

It isn't common for Baekjin to get into fights. And it is more uncommon for him to come back scathed– you see, Baekjin doesn't get his hands dirty. He rarely does so. And it's rarer for him to get hurt. His moves are always calculated and precise, there's no room for surprises or to get hurt for that matter.

So it is quite a moment when Baekjin enters his office with a gash along his cheek, walks towards his desk and crouches down to pull out a first aid box and puts it in front of you on the glass table, calmly. You look at him dumbly.

“Like am I…?” You start but then trail off, because obviously, he meant for you to patch him up.

“I don't see a mirror in here.” Whoa, Na Baekjin can be sarcastic if he wants.

“Then sit down, sir.” And with that Baekjin settles down next to you on the black leather couch of his modest office.

There's distance between you, you gesture with your hands for him to come closer and he follows. You break the distance between you both by pulling his face closer to yourself to inspect his cut and Baekjin notices how your face curls up in pain.

“You’re lucky it wasn't that deep. You’d have to get stitches on your pretty face.” Baekjin doesn't respond to your statement, but his gaze softens. A little smile forms on his face but it dissolves right away.

You start by wiping off the blood that trickled down towards his jaw and Baekjin closes his eyes—feeling your soft touches. One of your hands holding his face while the other wipes away the blood, there is a certain domesticity to this which he cherishes. Not that he would admit out loud. But it's evident in how his shoulders relax a little when you're nearby and how his fingers always try to find yours in the quiet moments when you're alone.

For a second, Baekjin wonders if it was not for the Union, would you two get to be normal? Act like those schoolmates who are dating— holding hands in the hallways, holding hands under the table in the cafeteria and sneaking off to the secluded corners of the school to make out.

He is pulled out of his thoughts when you say something, your voice sounds a little shaky and weak.

“I won't use the disinfectant, it’ll burn too much, so I'll use this cream… instead.”

He sees your eyes brimmed with tears, eyelashes heavy with tears weighing them down. His gaze softens.

“You are crying.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone.

“I am not! Atleast, not yet.”

“You worry for me too much.”

“You say it like it's a bad thing.” Your tears fall.

Ok, fair enough, Baekjin thinks. You're the only one who can get him tongue tied. If he can worry for you, then you can too.

He wipes the tears with the back of his hands, his touch is tender. You hold onto his hand, not letting him take it back, leaning into his touch.

“I love you.” You sniffle. His thumb rubs away another tear.

“I know. I love you too. I won't get hurt again.” He says. His voice doesn't have the edge he uses with others. A special voice just for you.

His gravity pulls you closer, heads tilting in unison, just a few centimetres apar–

A knock and the door opens.

“Am I interrupting something?” Geum Seongje. Motherfucker.

You groan.

Baekjin sighs.

note Ꮺ

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