Coma : An Ahn Suho X F!reader Drabble

hii everyone i am having a terrible, horrible writers block atm and can’t seem to get out of it no matter what i do :( i was wondering if you could maybe send blurb ideas for the characters on my masterlist? (maybe writing blurbs will help) and do you guys have any tips for getting out of a writers block?

« 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝟱 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗲𝘆𝗮𝗺'𝘀 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 ♡

warnings: none

╭┈—— note: when i write about a character i love to imagine every single aspect of what they would canonically be like and i see neteyam as someone who would have different levels/stages in his relationship with his s/o which evolve as he gets to know them more. so i gracefully present to you…

『 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝟭. 𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 』

neteyam knows not to jump into relationships so soon, all the romance books and movies his dad brought from his old home taught him that. before he even considers dating you, his number 1 priority would be quality time to get to know you better. this is the stage where he'll ask you to go on walks with him, hunt with him, spend time with his family, everything. he wants to get to know your true essence and self before he lets himself get carried away. 

he would be enamoured by you at first sight, something tugging at his heart and pushing him to go and talk to you everytime he sees you. the most notable thing you will see in the first stage is the way he looks at you as you ramble on beside him, telling him about your life. he will look at you as if you handpainted the entirety of the night sky all on your own, designing each part of the universe. he will look at you as if you are his creator, because each moment he spends with you gives him life.

『 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝟮. 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝗰𝗲 』

stage two will initiate itself after you’ve successfully captured his heart. he will do tiny favours for you at first; putting his hand above your head so you don't hurt yourself when bending underneath something, holding a tree branch or a leaf up so that you don’t get hit by it, getting you some food if you are not present at dinner, or even surprising you with a little flower that he picked up that reminded him of you. this will be his way of showing you that he cares deeply about you, that you are on his mind constantly. 

if you do not get the hint, which you won’t, because he is extremely subtle, he will move on to greater lengths for you. if you are carrying something heavy he will take it from your hands without even offering you help, instead asking you about your day if you dare protest. if you are running errands he will assist you in the best way he can, ensuring that others will think that you’ve done a magnificent job. he will offer to massage your shoulders after a long day, and he will constantly check on your health. 

during this stage he will also examine your reactions to his acts, determining whether you also feel some sort of mutual attraction for him (which you do, cause you wouldn’t be reading this if you didn’t). he smiles to himself if you get flustered as his strong fingers relax your shoulder blades after a long day, feeling you melt into his touch. if he thinks you return his affections, he will move on to stage 3.

『 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝟯. 𝗽𝗵𝘆𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 』

this is the stage of his confession. he will take you for a calm walk along the beach, and as eclipse falls he will gently take your hands in his, looking deep into your eyes. your words will trail off and he’ll take a deep breath in, ready to confess his undying love for you. 

by the end of it your face is just so hot because really? the son of Toruk Makto, the finest man in the village, the kindest, most loyal, bravest, most talented warrior, just confessed. to you. you just look at him flabbergasted and he laughs, throwing his head back, taking that as a sign that you like him back. he’ll ask you if you’re okay with him kissing you, and all you can muster is a small nod before he gently pecks you on the lips, afraid that if he shows you the full extent of his fervor for you he’d break you into a million pieces.

from that day forward, he is much more touchy with you. lingering touches on your back and on your arms, sometimes pressing a kiss to your forehead or wrapping an arm around your waist when you both are alone. if there's something stuck in your eye he’ll blow into it in an attempt to help you, but it just ends up with you both rolling on the floor laughing, somehow. you help him with his hair and he’ll help you with yours. he takes pleasure in feeling your hands working on his hair, expertly braiding them. he also enjoys taking rests on your lap as you caress his cheek lovingly, relishing in your touch.

『 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝟰. 𝗴𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 』

this is the point of no return. you have chosen him and he has chosen you. this is the stage of his love where he starts officially courting you, gifting you wonderful shells, flowers, even shiny and uniquely shaped rocks. he will create gorgeous headpieces, necklaces and waist chains for you, staring at the shocked look at your face when he presents them to you, spurring him on to make more. 

he’ll have a stupidly handsome smile on his face when he’s making something for you, him getting all giddy inside at the thought of seeing you wear what he’s created for you. when you gift him something of your own making, he makes it a point to wear it the very next day and show it off, openly updating his relationship status. 

『 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝟱. 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 』

the words “i love you” or “oel ngati kameie” are simply not enough to explain how the two of you burn for each other; like twin flames dancing with in tandem, burning bright enough to overcome even the dampest, darkest of spaces. you are the first to initiate this stage. when you lay beneath the tree of souls with him underneath the dazzling night sky, you will whisper to him lovingly, “you are the sun that warms my skin and the moon that lights my path. neteyam, you are the universe that gives my life meaning and purpose.” 

you’ve killed him, he’s speechless. words of affirmation mean so much more to him than he could ever express, as this is the final and most intimate stage of his love. after that day, he will always whisper loving sentences to you, reminding how much you value in his heart. “your eyes are the stars that light up my gloomiest nights,” he will whisper in your ear after a long and tiring day. “my love for you is a flower that sprouts eternal,” he will say to you as you wake up, eyes still groggy. 

the beauty of your smile casts light upon his world, the jingle of your laughter filling him up with joy and sustenance. his love for you is a symphony that crescendos with each beat of his yearning heart, and he will never let you forget it. 

masterlist 

dayum i really turned into shakespeare that last part…i just really wanted to post this cause y not 😭 seriously this went from one whole different concept to another. It was originally supposed to be possessive neteyam headcanons but it transformed into this somehow?? i hope you enjoyed reading this, feedback and reblogs are much appreciated! when people comment it really does help me figure out whether the content i put out is good or not, so i profoundly cherish every person that has left a comment on my posts before.  as always, thank you so much for reading to the end. much love, lorre.

Reconnection

Pairing: Go Hyuntak x fem!reader

Summary: Having known of Hyuntak from his training days of Tae Kwon Do, you never thought you'd run into him again. What started as admiration from afar quickly turned into the beginning of something more.

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: Part 1 ☆ Part 2

Hyuntak first glanced down at your hand over his and you quickly backtracked, so he turned to face you properly, waiting for you to say something. Droplets of water fell from the front of his hair, and for a moment, you lost your train of thought, his handsome face captivating you for a second.

"Why don't you stay?" You swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact, nervously playing with your hands. "Just until the rain clears."

He didn't need to be told twice. You felt him pet your head again, and he smiled at you. "Okay."

You smiled back, relieved that he wouldn't have to go out into the rain again or leave so soon if you were being honest.

"I'll get us some towels. Come on in."

You kicked off your shoes and made your way to the bathroom cabinet where you kept the clean towels. You grabbed two and debated on whether or not to have him take a warm shower or just offer him some of your father's clothes while you put his in the dryer. When you came back, Hyuntak was looking at some family photos above the fireplace.

"Those are pretty old," you stated. "It's just me and my dad now. He's away on business and won't be back for a few days."

Offering him the towel, he took it, and to your surprise, covered your head with it. "Hey." You couldn't help but giggle as he playfully dried your hair, making it more of a mess than it already was. He settled the towel around the nape of your neck, looking down at you, a smile plastered on his face.

"You should take a warm bath." He said after a moment, taking the dry towel from your hands and working it through his hair.

"Don't you want to go first? I can bring you some fresh clothes."

"I'm fine. I've been through worse." Hearing how that sounded, he quickly added, "I'll take the new set of clothes, though."

You went to go find some extra sweats and t-shirts your father had, hoping they would fit. Hyuntak was taller and leaner than him. It's been a while since you were in your father's room, but you quickly found a pair of black sweatpants and a simple gray t-shirt. When you got back, Hyuntak held a new packet of underwear and socks he must have bought from the convenience store.

"Thanks." He said when you handed him the clothes. "I'll be quick."

You watched him as he went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Not letting your mind wander, you decided to keep yourself busy and clean the wet floor you both made. Afterward, you took out the other items he had bought from the bag. Medicine, more hand warmer pouches, and some sweets. You felt butterflies at his consideration.

It wasn't long when he emerged from the bathroom. The sweatpants fit him a bit too small, a few inches above his ankles showing, and the shirt was fit enough to show off his toned physique. Your eyes wandered to his hair, which was partially air dried, the front still looking a bit damp. Finally, you looked at his face, and you could have sworn he smirked at you.

"Your turn." He stated, breaking you of your trance.

Right. You nodded, setting the items down and going to gather your things for your shower.

◇

Hyuntak sat on your couch, hearing the shower begin to run. He felt much better knowing the hot water would be a nice contrast to the coldness you both had to endure. He got up and went into the kitchen to make something warm for the both of you. A quick look into your cabinets told him you weren't a fan of coffee. He found a can of hot chocolate and proceeded to look for two mugs.

As he waited for water to boil on the stove, he leaned his head back and sighed. What am I doing? He thought.

First, he offered to walk you home, and now he's at your house. If he wanted to keep you safe, it was best that he stayed away from you. He saw what happened with Baku and Baekjin. He went after the people he cared about most and almost got them all killed. Geom Seongje was still out there somewhere, so was he really willing to risk it with you?

She's safe with me.

That's what he told himself at least. That and the fact that he didn't want to be away from you. He wanted to be near you, to hear about your day and figure out what kind of person you were. Your likes and dislikes. Everything. Seeing you blush because of him was more than he could hope for.

Turning off the stove, he was careful not to spill the hot water as he poured it into the mugs. The aroma of the chocolate filled the air, and the steam of the drink felt good against his face. He set aside the drinks to cool and crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter. Closing his eyes, Hyuntak thought back to the first time he met you three years ago.

Sometimes, his training days would include going to different Tae Kwon Do studios after school. Because he had already been building up his reputation as an elite athlete, the other kids would freak out, trying to ask him questions or get an autograph. He was always told to just focus on his sparring and technique, not paying any mind to the other students.

As he was leaving practice that day, he noticed you in your own corner. You were trying to get the spinning hook kick down, unable to hit the mark your mentor held in place. He could tell you were frustrated, but your determination did not go unnoticed. He looked back at his team, telling them he would be right back.

Setting his duffle bag down, he stood behind you, trying to see your approach to the move.

"You're kicking too early." He said.

When you turned around, eyes meeting his, he began to feel different. Heat rose to his face, and his heart seemed to beat faster than normal, even after the cool down from his training. Taking in your pretty face, you looked to be about the same age. Your chocolate brown eyes widened, and he realized that he was the last person you'd expect to see.

Clearing his throat, he went on with his instructions. "Keep the kick small and not too wide, then hook at the last minute. Like this." He stepped away enough to show you how.

You slowly nodded your head, resuming your stance. He saw you take a deep breath and then go for it. The top of your foot hit its target with success. As the class cheered, you gave a short laugh of disbelief, grinning. He chuckled and clapped for you, too, enjoying the happiness radiating off of you.

"Thank you." You smiled, turning to bow at him before introducing yourself. "I'm y/n."

He bowed back. "I'm-"

"Hyuntak."

Opening his eyes, he turned around to see you standing in the living room. Your long black hair was tied up in a bun at the top of your head. He's only ever seen you in your uniform, both for school and Tae Kwon Do. Now you wore an oversized pink sweatshirt and matching sweatpants to go with it. You looked adorable.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, grabbing the mugs and walking towards you. Settling down on the floor and crossing his legs, he offered you one of the mugs.

Taking it, he tried not to show nerves as you sat down next to him, your shoulder brushing against his. "I'm better now, thanks."

Hyuntak watched as you took a sip, being careful not to burn yourself with the liquid. You sighed in satisfaction, licking your lips of the remaining trace. Not realizing he was staring a bit too long, you looked at him quizzically.

"What?"

"You're really cute." He smiled.

Heat rose to your face, and you turned away, your eyes landing on the hot chocolate. Hyuntak wasn't trying to embarrass you. He was simply stating a fact. A pretty face like yours was hard to forget, and he always looked forward to the day when he would see you again. It was quiet for a minute until you spoke up.

"What did you mean when you said 'it does now' two days ago," you said quietly, still not facing him. "You said that after the blonde guy told you the situation had nothing to do with you."

"Ah," He scoffed, annoyance crossing his features. "That idiot."

If it hadn't been for the other bully running after you, he would have killed him. He had managed to get a few good hits, but his blood still boils in anger when he thinks of the potential hurt he could have caused you. Hyuntak takes a breath, trying not to think about it.

Setting his drink down, he turned towards you. His hand gently came up to your chin, slowly making you face him. Your eyes told him you were anxious of what he might say next, so he tried to choose his next words carefully.

"Do you remember when we met?"

You nodded.

"You reminded me of what it was like to never give up. You were so determined to get the kick right, but one can only do so much alone. Sometimes, all it takes is a little help." The back of his thumb gently caressed your cheek.

"Now, as awesome as it was seeing you hit the guy in the balls," you both laughed at his choice of words, "you have to know that whenever you need help, that will include me. I want to be there for you."

He said it with such intensity, looking into your eyes, that you couldn't help but take his words for it. Who were you to not believe him? He watched as you placed your hand over his, taking it but still holding it against your face. Not letting it go, you held on as you said, "I want to be there for you, too."

Anticipation hung in the air, neither of you breaking eye contact. He could feel electricity run through his body at the touch of your hand, his heart beating fast at your words. Your hand felt warm, and he wondered if the callous on his bothered you. He also hadn't noticed you both had leaned towards each other until the sound of his ringtone caused the two of you to quickly move away.

Checking the caller i.d, it was Baku.

Hyuntak looked at you, "I'm sorry. I should probably take this."

"It's okay." You shook your head, leaning back and taking another sip of your drink.

He answered the call, trying to hide his irritation at his best friend's bad timing. "Hello?"

"Hey! The rain cleared up. We're at the basketball court and need you."

Looking at the time, he figured it was a good time as any to let you go about the rest of your day. He already inconvenienced you for about an hour.

"Okay, I'll be there soon." He hung up and turned to you. "I gotta go."

You watched him as he quickly downed the hot chocolate and set the mug on the table. He was confused when he saw you get up to leave, thinking he's upset you. Then you returned with his now dry clothes neatly folded atop one another.

"Thanks." He smiled. Shoving everything except his hoodie into his backpack, he made sure he had all his belongings before making his way to the front door. You followed, your arms crossed against your chest.

As he was shrugging into his hoodie, he asked you, "Are you okay with me walking you home again tomorrow?"

"Sure." You blushed. The rosy color on your cheeks made him smile. Slinging his backpack over his shoulders, he stepped down into the entrance and started putting on his sneakers one at a time.

"Also, I was thinking. How about you and I don't leave our next encounter to fate, hm?"

You arched a brow, "What do you mean?"

Hyuntak took out his phone and handed it over to you. Hesitating for a brief moment, you took his phone and typed in your contact info. You handed it back. His eyes flickered at you from under his eyelashes, pressing the call button on his phone. Your ringtone filled the house, and you scrambled to turn it off.

"Good to know it's not a bogus number." He laughed to himself at a memory.

You were puzzled at his words but decided it was better not to ask.

"I'll see you tomorrow then." He smiled, taking one last look at you before reaching for the door.

"See you tomorrow." You breathed, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach from earlier returning.

A/N: I should have mentioned this in the beginning, but I always pictured the story happening a few months after the events of whc2. The rest of the boys will appear again soon :)

Song i listened to while writing this is One and Only by Adele <3

Tagging a few people below. Let me know if you want to be tagged. Thanks for reading!

@l5byrinth , @hollxe1 , @snowflakemoon3

hiii, i love your work o(^o^)o

Can i request a go hyuntak hdc or a fluff, tyyyy

- The things he does without asking.

pairing: go hyuntak x reader

Warning: none

word count: 506

a/n: i've been so eager to write this but i litt almost never had the chance to due to school 💔 wish it was longer but still very cute

headcannons:

● when you walk to school together, he always takes your backpack without asking. you don’t even notice until the weight is gone. he just casually picks it up and carries it like it’s no big deal.

● you tell him he really didn’t have to, but he doesn’t say anything. he just keeps walking, looking straight ahead like it’s totally normal for him to do.

● he always walks on the side closest to the road. if you try to switch sides, he moves too, always staying on the outside. he never says it, but it’s like he’s quietly making sure you’re safe.

● he remembers everything you say, even the little things. what you like to eat when you’re upset, how you like your coffee, and that one song you can’t stop playing. it’s like he keeps track of every detail.

● when you forget your pen in class, he’s already handing you his. when you lose your charger, it’s already plugged into your phone. he never makes a fuss about it, he just does it without asking.

● if you’re tired, he lets you rest your head on his shoulder. he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just stays still. you can feel his warmth, and for a moment, everything feels calm.

● sometimes, you catch him looking at you. not in a creepy way, but in this soft, almost admiring way, like he’s watching you and doesn’t realize it. when you meet his gaze, he looks away quickly, acting like nothing happened.

● during lunch, he always saves you a seat next to him. no one else even tries to sit there, even if the place is crowded. he’ll just look at them, and they get the hint.

● if you’re upset, he doesn’t ask you a million questions. he’ll just sit next to you, close enough that you can feel his presence. the silence feels comforting, and you don’t need to say anything.

● you once called him soft, and he looked away, embarrassed. he muttered, “I’m not” but you could see the little red on his cheeks. he didn’t want to admit it, but it was obvious.

● when it’s cold, his jacket always ends up around your shoulders. even if he’s freezing, he doesn’t take it back. when you try to give it to him, he just shakes his head like it’s nothing.

● he doesn’t make a big deal about anything. when he cares about you, he shows it in little ways. in the way he holds your bag, the way he makes sure you’re okay, and the way he stays by your side even when he’s quiet.

Omg the Ahn Sooho fic got me in shambles AJHSJQHSJQHA can I request another one too? 😔😔 Thank you!

Lean On Me | Sooho

- afab! reader. thank you anon! ♡

Ahn Sooho. He wasn't someone unpopular. In fact, a lot of girls had a crush on him, but he was just too busy to accept anyone. At first, he could barely accept Sieun into his busy life. Sooho had always been everyones guardian angel. Always protecting the weak against the strong, making sure the strong didn't hurt the weak, and always making sure no one went too far.

It was a usual day, seven in the morning. You walked into the class as you saw Sieun, already seated with his airpods in, and books neatly placed in front of him. He gave you a kind of nod as you smiled back at him. You weren't technically friends nor classmates, but his friendship with Sooho had made the both of you acquaintances of some sort.

You walked to the back of the class as you quietly pulled the chair near Sooho's desk as you sat behind the three tables the boy had pulled together to make a makeshift bed. You unzipped your bag as quietly as you could, partly because you didn't want to disturb Sooho and entirely because you didn't want to disturb Sieun, feeling kind of intimidated by his silent stare if you disturbed him. You took out a small blanket, putting it over his sleeping body as you patted his head softly. You felt bad that he had to sleep at school because he had to juggle so many part-time jobs just to make sure he could get through high school and support his grandmother at the same time.

You watched as his eyelashes fluttered, and his chest rose and dipped with each deep breath he took. You weren't in his class, but you made lunch for him every day, not wanting him to miss his meals or work on an empty stomach. You didn't mind that it took you two more hours than usual to prepare lunch, as long as Sooho wouldn't fall sick and you wouldn't have to worry.

Most people would say that the both of you were like married couples. You'd prepare him lunch, and he'd send you to your after-school activities, and you had no complaints against it. Sooho didn't like feeling like he owed people, so that was the least you could let him do.

Sooho stirred in his sleep as the sun rose higher, the sunshine shining directly into the classroom, hitting his face, although you tried your best to shield his eyes from the light. Sooho opened his eyes as he saw you, waiting for him as per usual, as he sat up and yawned. He stretched his arms as he turned to you with a smile on his face, saluting.

"Good Morning Mrs Ahn!" Sooho announced, not feeling a single hint of embarassment as your cheeks still grew red from the nickname.

Sooho was sure. He was sure you're the one for him. He'd give up everything, including himself, for you. It didn't take a genius to notice your affect on him, and even his grandmother was proud of the changes he had in his life.

"Mr Ahn, this is your meal for the day. Don't forget to eat or I'll get mad!" You teased back as you picked up your bag, passing him the metal lunchbox, about to leave as per usual but Sooho stopped you.

"I'll send you to your class," Sooho said with a grin as he took your bag from your grip and slung it over his shoulder, taking your hand in his free hand as he dragged you out the classroom.

It had become a natural occurrence for the students at school to see Sooho dragging you around, clinging onto you to spend every free second he had with you. Sooho happily chattered on about what he had done over the weekend, talking about how after work, he had treated his grandmother to a meal.

"I brought grandma to have a meal, my treat, but she asked me where you were at! I think she loves you more than me!" Sooho whined as you couldn't help but laugh at his childishness, looking at him as you couldn't help but feel yourself hiccup as the sun seemed to compliment his looks just a little bit more than usual. You crossed your arms as you responded teasingly, "Oh well, I guess I'm her favourite now!".

Sooho feigned shock as he covered his mouth with both his hands, eyes widened as he held your bag up high. You gasped in false shock as you poked his side, causing him to flinch as he instinctively brought your bag lower, allowing you to grab it with ease.

"I know you too well Mr Ahn! See you later!" You smiled at Sooho as you were about to walk into your class, the boy already walking away.

"Don't fall asleep in class! Atleast try to listen!" You yelled as Sooho held a thumbs up, not turning as he skipped back to his class.

Class wasn't the best part of school, but you knew that if you wanted a future with Sooho, at least one of you had to have a certification higher than a diploma.

Lunch was definitely the best part of school. You walked to the cafeteria as you grabbed a tray, picking the food you wanted from the school buffet as you walked to the pay line but was bumped into by one of the ugly looking guys from Class 3, who had way too much confidence.

"I know I'm good looking, but should Ahn Sooho's girlfriend really be trying to get comfy with me?" The brocolli-haired, short and lumpy, big mouthed guy joked as you looked at him in absolute disgust. Was he serious?

"I'm sorry, but you bumped into me. I have no interest in you whatsoever, so please let me pay for my food," You answered calmly as you tried to move past him but was blocked once again by the ogre look-alike.

"Just because you're dating Ahn Sooho, you think you're a big deal? You ought to know how to behave!" The guy said, clearly irked as he raised his hand.

Instinctively, you closed your eyes, ready to take the hit, but it never came. You opened your eyes to see the familiar red jacket wearing man in front of you. Sooho held the guy's hand as he twisted it, slightly, just to get a yelp from him as he moved closer to him.

"I didn't think you'd stoop so low to the point you'd hit a woman, more so my woman, so screw off. You're not a delinquent. You're just a fool." Sooho said as he released his hold on the guy's arm as he ran out of the cafeteria, feeling intimidated by Sooho's little speech.

Sooho turned to you as he held your shoulders, bending down slightly to be face to face with you, "Are you alright? You must've been scared. "

You nodded as Sooho couldn't help but pat your head, smiling.

"I'll always save you, don't worry. Let's go eat, I'm hungry!" Sooho reassured you as he slung an arm over your shoulder, leading you to the now 'safe' pay line.

You sat down with Sooho at your usual table as you watched Sooho eat, scooping from the mountain of rice on his tray and stuffing it into his mouth, not forgetting to pick up meat right after.

"How are you always stuffing your face, but you never choke?" A voice asked as Sieun took a seat next to you, across the empty seat on Sooho's right.

"The art of devouring is not something easily learned, top student of the country," Sooho announced as if he was an emperor from the Joseon period as he raised his head proudly.

You turned to Sieun as you ignored your boyfriend's strange antics, "I heard you got called to the office just now".

"It's because of the new student, Oh Beomseok. We went out with him, and stuff happened. it's alright." Sieun responded short as he dug into his normal portioned food.

You watched as Sooho finished the entire plate of food, not leaving a single crumb. You were satisfied that at least in between Sooho's crazy schedule, he could at least eat a normal school lunch and talk to his friends.

Sooho sat on his motorbike as he had your bag slung in front of him, the brightly coloured bag standing out as compared to his black coloured bag behind it. He had two bags slung in front on purpose, so you could lean onto him comfortably, but he'd never admit that.

"Let's go, or you'll be late to your calligraphy class and then Miss So will be mad at me," Sooho made a sad face as you chuckled at the boy's 'TT' pose under his eyes.

Miss So was your calligraphy teacher, and she taught you calligraphy one-on-one, due to the fact that you were further ahead and way more advanced that the other students who had just joined, unlike you who had been doing calligraphy for years. She had taken a liking for the boy, at her age of 72, she said that 'he's a good boy, and the both of you compliment each other'.

You got onto the motorbike as you wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling the sythethic material against your arm as your back was on your boyfriend's chest. Sooho smiled, his cheekbones high as he revved the engine.

"Let's go, Mrs Ahn!" Sooho announced as he drove the motorbike down the hill. It was your favourite part of the whole ride. The helmet shielded your face from the wind as the both of you went down the hill from the gate, the crowd of students walking slowly down the pavement.

Sooho, and you always joked that once the both of you get married, he'll have to get a car licence, or else, there'll be nowhere for your child to sit. Sooho never told anyone but his grandmother, but he never thought of a future without you. Never in his wildest dreams did he think of a time when he'd leave you or you'd leave him. He was working for not only his own future or his grandma's happiness, but also your future together with his. He needed that diploma to get a good job, or at least continue to college so he can support your family in the future.

"You arrived!" The voice of an old lady could be heard as the door of the old style house, that still seemed expensive, slid open, revealing Miss So waiting for you.

"Sorry, did I keep you waiting?" You asked as you got off the motorbike, Sooho's arms around your waist as he helped you off, avoiding the hot exhaust.

"No no, you didn't! Sooho brought you here safe right? Or should I make him write a thousand characters?" Miss So joked as Sooho held a hand to his chest, feigning offence at her words.

"Miss So! I bring my girlfriend safe everywhere! I'm a very good driver and if she got injured, I'll get injured too!" Sooho said as he covered his face, acting as if he was crying into his hands.

"You're a big baby even after you've dated for so many years. Come on, let's start class before your boyfriend clings onto you and won't let you go," Miss So teased as you couldn't help but laugh at her words, turning to see Sooho sulking.

"I'll be right back. Be careful at work!" You waved at the boy as Sooho waved back, putting on his own helmet as he drove off to his part time job.

Sooho didn't expect that what had happened to him, Sieun and Beomseok, would come back to bite him in the ass so fast, but it did.

He was eating the lunch you had packed him in the metal lunch box, in the delivery riders room, watching a video on his phone as he heard a group of high school 'delinquents' walking outside with baseball bats, muttering.

"We're going to teach him a lesson. How dare he report us to the bullying committee? Now, Soo Wong is mad at us, and now we have to do his dirty work. What a cheap," one of the bigger sized boys muttered as they walked in the direction of the back alley.

Sooho never got involved unless needed, but this was a group of close to fifteen boys, and from what he heard, against one? If that boy reported them to the bullying committee, he's a goner.

Sooho tried to forget about it, not wanting to care. He scooped the rice with spam into his mouth, focusing on the food you had packed with your love along with it. He raised the volume of the video, trying to block out all his thoughts, but somehow, it kept repeating in his head. Sooho got up with a loud groan, huffing as he packed his bag and clocked out, walking out of the staff room as he made his way to the back alley.

"Miss So, I'm going to the bathroom for a while," you told your teacher, who was looking at your current piece. Miss So nodded as you swiftly left the class, feeling the stomach ache beginning to creep in. You placed your arms on your stomach as you ran to the bathroom.

It wasn't a good time in there, at all. You got back into the classroom as Miss So looked at you with a worried expression.

"If you're not feeling well, go home! Did you not eat today? I'm telling Sooho if you skip your meals!" Miss So scolded you as you shook your head, grabbing your bag, packing your brushes and paper into your bag as you told Miss So, "I'm going home, I'm so sorry that we had to cut the lesson short! I promise I'll make up for it!".

Miss So shook her head with a smile as you left building, making a turn to Sooho's workplace. You couldn't just leave without telling Sooho, or he'd frantically call you or knock on your door like a maniac after work.

"What the hell...?" You muttered as you peered into the staff room of his workplace to find it empty. Sooho abandoning work? Did something happen?

You couldn't imagine what could've happened to make him abandon work. Was he in danger?

Sooho was up against four guys. The boy they attacked looked half beaten to death. His white uniform was coloured red as his bag was unzipped. It wasn't hard to fight all of them at once, but seeing as one of them looked quite strong, he wasn't sure.

Sooho charged at the first guy, kicking him behind the knee as the boy toppled down instinctively, giving Sooho the chance to land a kick on his side, sending him into the wall. The second guy ran up to him as Sooho saw his right shoulder move, making him dodge to the right as he ended up behind the boy. Sooho landed a kick on his back, sending him forward as his chin landed on the rough floor, enough to have him groaning in pain from the friction. The third guy played dirty as he threw his blazer onto Sooho, trying to block his sight, but sooho knew better as he charged straight into the boy, knocking him with his head as the boy stumbled backwards, giving Sooho the chance to land a punch on him multiple times.

Sooho was too distracted, not noticing the fourth boy already behind him, grabbing him into a headlock as Sooho was pulled backwards. Sooho would pass out at that rate, his vision slowly dotting as he struggled against the guy's strong grip.

A bag flew into the boy's head as Sooho was released from his grip. Sooho turned to see you standing, heaving as you just threw your heavy bag at someone. Sooho stood up as he dusted his hands.

"Looks like my girlfriend is here! Can't leave her waiting! You should all repent for your crimes, it's not good to bully people," Sooho stated, half sarcastic. Sooho picked up your bag and his bag as he turned to the boy who had just been beaten by the bullies, "You should get out of here and report them again. If they still bully you, ask this pretty lady to help you".

The both of you walked back to Sooho's workplace as he turned to you, "Why did you do that? What if they changed their target to you? What would I have done then? That was dangerous. Don't do that again. I'll be the hero, and you can be my pretty girlfriend. "

You raised an eyebrow as you responded, " You shouldn't have to save everyone. If you're saving everyone, who's your hero? Then, I'll be your hero. I'll always take care of you so you can take care of everyone".

You smiled at Sooho as the boy felt like he had just fallen in love with you all over again. It felt like the time when you both confessed again, he was down on his knees for you, and his heart was yours.

"Then I can be your hero, and you'll be mine."

--

eva : how was it guys? this was so long.. i rewrote it twice.. what do you guys want as a 100 follower special :]

can you write a chad x reader where they are best friends but both too afraid to tell each other they are in love w each other. but the reader gets attacked by ghostface (survives) and chad realizes he needs to tell her (or them) how he feels.

tysm for this request!! i hope you enjoy it and i hope this is what you had in mind 🫶🏼

here

*ೃ࿐TO FAULT A NET

[ ACT V: HE IS WHAT HE HIDES ]

spider-man! ethan landry x black cat! reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"right. as long as they stick together."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"spider tingle?"

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

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

"i know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"yeah, no shit!"

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

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

"let's go, let's go—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"you?" tara asked, and wayne shrugged.

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

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

he lied to him.

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

but ethan stayed silent, avoiding your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

quinn looked at him as though he was a parasite.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"shut up."

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

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

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

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

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

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

ethan only ignored her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but you and ethan stayed behind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

another beat. another pause.

and then you heard the rapid footsteps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he blamed it on the heightened senses.

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

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

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

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

"spider-man, huh?"

nevermind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love my mutuals, but I don’t really care for the ‘specialness’ associated with them. want to send me an ask off anon? do it. want to tag me in a post? do it. follower, mutual, or just random person who stumbled across my blog: I crave interaction and literally do not mind.

upbraid — ethan landry

Description: Upbraid—To upbraid someone is to speak to them in an angry or critical way in response to something they have done wrong—in other words, to scold them.

Or: You hate that Ethan has been careless while wearing the mask.

Pairing: Spider-Man!Ethan Landry x GN!Reader

Warnings/Tags: descriptions of wounds/bruises, some angst

Word Count: 1.9k

Author’s Note: a little writing exercise for me, i took merriam webster’s september 3rd word of the day (upbraid) and built a plot out of it :] finished it about a month later LMAO

It was after a night out with some friends that you discovered that your best friend since high-school, Ethan, was the same man dressing up in red and blue and patrolling the streets every night. You came home slightly drunk, and the vigilante was passed out on your fire escape, battered and bruised. You hadn’t known it was him yet. It was when you had to stitch him up—while he was unconscious—and you saw a birthmark on his side that you got suspicious. When he took off the mask right in front of you was the confirmation.

You’d been taking care of him since then. He insisted that you didn’t have to, but sometimes you figured that patching him up was more for you than him.

Things didn’t change much after that incident except for that Ethan comes to you every night for his wounds. Outside of that secret shared between you two, there was no change in your relationship whatsoever.

Working regular shifts at a local coffee shop ensured you heard whatever the news stations were saying about Spider-Man that week due to the television always playing, albeit at a low volume. Over the last few months, you learned how yo tune it out in fear that you’ll one day hear that Ethan was dead.

But your coworkers couldn’t seem to get enough of him. Which, at first, you didn’t care, but now that you knew it Ethan, you shut down any words about Spider-Man.

All it took was one day, on your break.

There were no customers, so you lounged in the main sitting area scrolling through your phone.

“Holy shit,” Mindy, the only coworker you considered a friend, grabbed the nearby remote and turned up the TV volume. “Look.”

Seeing as she wasn’t usually the type to care about Spider-Man, your instincts trusted that whatever was on the screen wasn’t about him. But you were so, so wrong.

It happened quickly.

The headline caught your eye first:

LIVE: SPIDER-MAN FIGHTS GREEN GOBLIN

The green goblin. That’s what the media had been calling the bad guy of the week. Well, more like two weeks. Ethan assured you that he had it under control.

It was clear as day that he, in fact, did not have it under control.

Your spine went rigid.

The camera zoomed in on Spider-Man, a large gash on his calf and holding his arm close to his chest, assessing the situation while civilians ran for their lives.

You grabbed the remote from Mindy’s hand, turning off the TV and earning you an irked ‘Hey!’; however you didn’t hear much more than that because you were bolting out the door in the next second.

You waited about an hour in anticipation at your apartment, med kit on the counter, sitting there blankly and watching if your phone got any texts from Ethan. You repeatedly ignored the texts from Mindy or your manager asking where you had gone—none of that was important now—Ethan had to be your priority.

The loud bang on your window finally signalled his arrival, and you hated that you were relieved. The pit in your chest grew deeper every time, and yet every time, it meant he was alive.

The room was eerily quiet.

Ethan winced as you wrapped up his arm. Whenever you patched him up like this, it was always quiet. But this time—this time was different, somehow. It was tense. Something hung in the room and it left a tense note, an unfinished symphony; he was in the dark.

It hit him that it was the look on your face which made him fill with dread.

Your furrowed brows accompanied a seemingly permanent frown on your face, and your eyes were everywhere but his own.

He knew how much he worried you. You said so on the first day he landed on that fire escape, but you always started every visit with an, ‘I’m glad you’re okay,’ or at least some variation of it.

This wasn’t that. At all.

“Can you at least talk to me?” He broke the silence, a glass shattered.

You looked up at him, “No.”

The air left his lungs. “What?” Maybe it was the end. “What—what do you mean?”

“You wanna talk?” You haphazardly shoved things in the med kit, zipping it up and walking away with it to put it back where it belonged.

Ethan only nodded hesitantly.

“I’ll talk.” When you came back to face him, you looked down. “You’re fucking careless.”

He could only part his lips in hopes that words will come. Maybe they will. But nothing did, he didn’t know if he truly could’ve spoken at that moment because you were elaborating what you meant soon enough.

“You just—you come in here and expect me to fix you every single time,” he heard your heart beat faster with every word. “And then you go out there and do it again.”

“I told—“

“No!” his jaw shut tight when you raised your voice. “I’m tired, Ethan. I really am. I see you getting hurt every day—I have to see that, Ethan, because you’re everywhere! Then you come to me and I have to pretend like thinking about you dying doesn’t keep me up at night.”

Ethan’s heart plummeted into the abyss. He wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole along with it, as the shame and disgust at himself hit him all at once. He had nothing else to say. There were no words for you, because you were right. And that’s what hurt the most.

He had nothing else to say except, “I didn’t know I hurt you like that.”

“Ethan—”

“I told you that you didn’t have to do that for me.”

“If I don’t do it, nobody else will,” you sighed.

“I’m sorry.” Ethan had been so lost in protecting others that he lost sight of protecting you. In turn, he hurt you—used you. “I’ll go.”

He stood up in haste, shuffling past you with his eyes glued to the ground.

“Ethan,” God, even the way you say his name wounded him. So much that he’d already forgotten about his physical state. He winced as he put his mask back on and opened up the window. “Don’t.”

But that was a good sign. Don’t meant you wanted him to stay. Nonetheless, he still had to protect you. Protecting you was his priority.

“I can’t—” he coughed. “This isn’t…good. I’ll go.”

There was a beat of silence when he looked back before leaving.

“You know what?” You added. “You’re right. Just leave.”

And so he left.

Days passed.

You ignored the screens, though it always made its way back to you.

SPIDER-MAN: ABANDONED NEW YORK?

Spider-Man was gone. For three days, at least. Yet the world felt his absence. Your world, however, was at a complete standstill. Waiting with bated breath in anticipation of either hearing about the death of your Ethan or his resurfacing. You hoped it was the former.

Your mutual friends even sensed your unease, but because of college and finals, it was really only Tara who took note of the blankness in your eyes when someone brought up Ethan.

Thankfully, Spider-Man showed up. The city rejoiced in being protected once again. But you were still missing Ethan in your life. Through Chad, you checked on his state, who always responded that his roommate rarely spoke to him these days. It seemed that Ethan was letting you have your pick of friends, almost as if it were a divorce and you got what he had. Even if the idea of you and Ethan getting ‘divorced’ made you laugh at its absurdity, in some ways it did feel like that.

Weeks passed. It was days before finals. You had dealt somewhat well with Ethan’s absence by losing yourself in your day-to-day life. You studied harder, even picked up extra shifts which made Mindy question your motive. You hated work.

Unfortunately, it seemed as though the all-nighters finally caught up to you.

It was dawn. You hadn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours, and you knew Ethan would be out patrolling at this moment. You banged on the door of his dorm, waking up an angry Chad, but you couldn’t think about that now as you headed straight for Ethan’s room and sat on his bed.

You figured it was too long. Weeks too long. You should have talked to him the day after, but his insistence on leaving your apartment that day made your heart constrict in ways you didn’t think possible. Maybe you hurt him too much with what you said.

The sleep came easily.

A light touch of your arm woke you up.

Upon rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you were faced with Ethan. Your Ethan. His mask was off.

The instinct to stand up to wrap your arms around him was as easy as the sleep that came to you hours before. It was long overdue.

It took a few seconds for him to reciprocate, and you sighed when you finally felt him release his breath.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

He pulled back to your dismay, keeping you at arms length.

“You—you shouldn’t be here.”

You almost flinched. “What?”

“No,” he shook his head incessantly. “I’m supposed to be protecting you.”

That was not what you expected. “Ethan, what—”

“Please, just—just leave.”

“Is that what you really want?”

Same like that day, his eyes didn’t leave the ground. Anywhere but your eyes.

“Answer me, at least.” You sounded desperate.

“I can’t hurt you like that again. So, leave.” His voice tapered off, shaken.

“Look me in the eyes when you say that.” You mustered up all the strength you could despite having woke up mere minutes ago. “Tell me that I’m safer without you.”

He shook his head instinctively, “You’re not without me.”

“What?” You whispered, lungs out of air.

“Nothing.”

“You’ve been watching me, aren’t you?”

His silence said everything.

You reached to brush his messy curls out of his eyes. His mask had messed them up. He finally turned his head to you, curious.

Yet, you couldn’t look him in his eyes as you said it.

“You hurt me when you’re careless,” you declared. “But it hurts more when you—you…think I don’t want you to be around me. I feel safe with you, Ethan. If you really don’t want to hurt me then…then just—please stay in my life. As Ethan.”

He pulled you closer, and you rested your head against his shoulder.

“What you’re doing as Spider-Man is good. You have to protect people. But you’re Ethan. I fell in love with him first and—and I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

“You’re in love with me?”

He lifted your chin up to face him, the contact surging through your being.

You nodded wordlessly.

He finally smiled, “I think I’ve been in love with you for longer.”

“Nuh uh,” you flashed him a grin back. “I knew when I met you.”

“Then we’re even.”

He kept his hands on your chin, subconsciously pulling you closer. He desperately searched your eyes for unease, but found something he’d always known was there: love.

“Prove it.”

And so he kissed you like his life depended on it.

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

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

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

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

A gift given and so easily taken. 

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

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

Just that it hit someone. 

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

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

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

…It wasn’t always like that though. 

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

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

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

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

Or maybe it just took one to know one. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps the opposite reigned true as well though. 

Definitely not a crush. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He slightly shrugged, “You looked excited.” 

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

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

“Yn... I like you too.” 

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

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

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

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

He swore he’d stop. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

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

“It’s not your fault, Si-eun.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As he did too. 

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

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