Weak Hero Class 2 Headcanons — Kisses With The Boys Of Whc²

need finnick taking of reader while they’re hungover & he’s *lovingly* scolding them being like “i told u u were gonna regret drinking that much” & just being boyf material.

Sat on your knees, you were hunched over the toilet, letting out all of last night’s remains. The events of the previous night were still a blur to you, but that wasn’t really your main concern at the moment. “That’s good. Let it all out.” Your boyfriend was standing behind you, holding your hair back so it wouldn’t get dirty or in the way.

Mumbles of regret left your lips and you turned your head to look at Finnick. The corners of his lips tugged into a slight smile as he said, “What did I tell you last night?”

He handed you a glass of water he had already prepared for you before you woke up. With a roll of your eyes, you took a sip of the water before responding unwillingly, “To not drink so much…” Finnick couldn’t resist the laugh he let out at the slight pout on your face. He thought it was cute how much you were regretting all of last night.

You sighed and took a moment to yourself on the bathroom floor, your head spinning uncontrollably. When you wanted to lay down, your boyfriend knew that was his cue to bring you back to bed.

He scooped you up and you wrapped your arms the back of his neck. After he had put you down on the bed, he got up to get something to eat and medicine for you. “Wait,” You said while you grabbed ahold of his arm, “Can you stay, please? Just for a little while.”

And oh, how could he turn you down when you looked up at him so sweetly. He nodded and got in the bed beside you. As you settled your head on his shoulder, you let out a small sigh. “I knew you were gonna regret drinking so much.” Your boyfriend commented with a chuckle, earning a small groan from you.

a/n: thought i’d try a different layout for this one 😝 tysm for the request anon and i hope you like it even though it’s super short 💘💘

won't ask you to wait | trent alexander-arnold x fem!reader

summary: one winter weekend in your hometown brings a friendly face back in your life... but for how long? genre: fluff w/ angst ending; themes of longing, friends that were never more wc: roughly 1k

a/n: i’m such a fraud i should have finished this A LONG TIME AGO cause winter is ‘tis the damn season's season and now it’s spring but i procrastinated this ahhhh enjoy anyway also not proof-read

"We could call it even, even though I'm leaving, and I'll be yours for the weekend." — tis the damn season, taylor swift

Time really is a funny thing. No matter how much of it passes, your hometown still feels the same as the day you left. The same beauty magazine subscription your mother has had since you were born arrives every Tuesday, the same sound of laughter reverberates from the park playground, and the same cashier greets you at the corner store, this time with a waddling toddler mimicking his every move.

Other things feel completely different. The steps to your childhood bedroom seem to creak a touch louder despite your absence, there are a few more streetlights on the route to the local high school, and the parking lots you spent hours idling in gossiping with your friends have been repaved.

You didn't expect that Trent would be the same, too. Well, maybe not exactly the same. You knew with certainty that he could never be yours, and that was an obvious change.

You first saw him on a Friday afternoon, ticking things off the list of errands your mother gave you.

The bouquet decorating the dining room table was wilting, so you find yourself in line at the flower shop to bring home a fresh batch to the house. Trent stands ahead of you in line and you peer forward at the bouquet in his hands. "When did you become a tulip kind of person?" There is a glint of humour in your question that you hope he can recognize.

Trent turns his head towards your voice with such force you feared it might detach from his shoulders. He whispers your name with a shocked expression on his face. "I can't believe you're back in town," he comments, shifting his weight on his feet in anticipation. "Were you missing it or somethin'?" The anxious movement makes your heart soften.

"Something like that," you smile. The holiday season always made you miss home, if you could still call it that. Home. A place you haven't been in years despite the way you searched for its comfort in every new city you lived in, the latest being Los Angeles.

“Thought I’d try something new,” he explains, holding up the tulips in your line of sight. You take note of the dusty rose shade, the same shade you were always drawn to.

You mimic his movement and display the festive bouquet in hand. "The house needed some beauty," you comment.

Trent smiles, "Something to rival yours?" You relish in his flirtatious banter and return the smile.

By Saturday evening, you had caught him up on everything he missed.

"I wish you would have told me sooner, I was out there this summer!" Trent exclaims, pulling out his phone to share photos. Photos you had already seen from the peeks you take of his Instagram feed every now and then. The sheer joy on his face while he explored the city you knew like the back of your hand. A relaxed expression as he spent time with his brothers. It was your favourite version of Trent.

“There’s always next time,” you muse. It’s a half-honest promise. A promise you make knowing that if both of you were in LA together, you wouldn’t be able to bear his inevitable departure. But the thought that he would want to see you in the very place that stole you from him was comforting.

You look out the window at the snow beginning to fall, paying it no mind. But it seems the longer you and Trent spoke, the heavier it fell and the poor visibility of the roads was concerning. You brush it off and attempt to walk to the door. His pull is gentle on your wrist. “You can’t go with the roads looking like that,” he warns.

You shrug at him, “There’s not really another option, no?” A smart option, you want to add but bite your tongue. One that won’t make this feel wrong. "I could try my luck out there."

Your friendship with Trent teetered along the lines of more than friends countless times. But when you "ran away" (at least that's the way your mother described it), things were cemented; you and Trent would never be more. The semblance of belonging to each other remained, which landed you in this position.

A gust of wind echoes inside his home like a warning sign. “I’m not asking you to stay for long,” Trent says in a pleading tone. “Just the night. Please.” How could you say no with how he looked into your eyes?

On a gloomy Sunday morning, his arms were encircling your waist in the bed you have shared countless times.

Although the mattress is firmer than you remember, the pillows are a little softer, and have those curtains always been so beige? You let your eyes wander around the room in the morning light. Picture frames on the TV console that you didn't notice last night. A half-empty candle on the nightstand in a scent you wouldn't have expected Trent to enjoy. All signs that confirmed your beliefs about time.

The feeling of his chest pressed against your back was one of comfort and familiarity. His breath fanned against your neck and a slight snore could be heard from his lips. You fidgeted in his grasp to face him. Slowly, you brought your hands to his chest. You studied the way he exhaled. You commit it to memory as if this was the last time you would be in this position.

A soft sigh leaves your lips. I’m leaving again. You want to give him a warning this time. But saying goodbye is always. harder than leaving. You slowly peel the sheets from your body, ridding yourself of the t-shirt Trent let you borrow and you know his scent lingers on your skin. The floor beneath you doesn’t let out a single creak as if it is in on your escape.

By the time Trent wakes, the side you once occupied is neatly made. He feels your absence like the closing credits to a movie. Painfully obvious but something he was expecting. He reaches for the crumpled receipt lying on your empty pillow, not even the indentation of your head remains. A receipt for his bouquet of flowers with only a sentence scribbled down:

Thank you for letting me be yours again, even just for the weekend.

•••

a/n pt 2 cause i can’t shut up: in conclusion i’m a cornball but hey!!! i finish this finally

Coma : an Ahn Suho x f!reader drabble

Summary/Author's Note: You are right there when Suho opens his eyes. (The one where Suho woke up because I said so.)

The hospital room was filled with dusk and quiet, the only noise the sounds of your breathing and the gentle steady beeping of Suho's life support machine. Moonlight peered through the gap in the drawn curtains, trying to find Suho where he lay still on the white bed, always unmoving, where before he had never stopped.

You couldn't bear to pull them closed all the way, didn't want to close the room into complete darkness in case he woke up and couldn't see. Just in case he was afraid.

Suho was never afraid of anything. Before he had gone to find Beomseok, he had kissed you carefully, squeezed your hand and promised he'd be right back, confidence lining his shoulders and grinning back at you from behind his eyes.

And then he wound up here, barely alive, barely breathing. You didn't realise before now that you could be choked by your own heart.

Sieun came and went, always silent, always a gentle hand on your shoulder and nothing else. Yeongi pleaded for forgiveness for something that wasn't even her fault and Beomseok stayed away. If he hadn't, you would have taken his eyes.

You reached down to shuffle your chair closer to the bed and carefully slipped your hand into Suho's, clearing your throat to keep from crying. You always stifled tears when his grandma was with him, and it had become habit. You silently begged him to open his beautiful big eyes and look at you again, the way you used to beg him not to stare at you because it made you blush.

But he liked making you blush too much to stop his staring.

You didn't realise you were crying anyway, despite your efforts, until the hand you were holding slowly lifted to clumsily swipe at the tears, cleaning your face.

"Jagi..."

Your head snapped up and your fingers closed reflexively tighter around Suho's hand as you stared, stunned, at his slowly opening eyes. Your bottom lip began quivering and he gently shook his hand free of yours to press it to your jaw and drag his thumb over the tremble.

"Yah" he said softly, his voice hoarse from underuse. "I'm here."

Fresh tears spilled over your lashes, rendering them wet and spiky. Suho smiled, his dark eyes warming.

"Ah" he murmured. "You missed me, huh?"

Tagging: @writingmysanity

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

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

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

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

A gift given and so easily taken. 

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

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

Just that it hit someone. 

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

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

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

…It wasn’t always like that though. 

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

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

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

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

Or maybe it just took one to know one. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps the opposite reigned true as well though. 

Definitely not a crush. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He slightly shrugged, “You looked excited.” 

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

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

“Yn... I like you too.” 

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

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

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

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

He swore he’d stop. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

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

“It’s not your fault, Si-eun.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As he did too. 

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

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

— hanabi

arisu x gn!reader

genre: fluff bcos i’m being nice, implied soulmates, shortfic

warnings: canon divergence and mentions of death, hospitals, injuries, blood, underage drinking and alcohol.

synopsis: It’s New Years’. You take some time to think about your closest friend and how nice fireworks are.

author’s note: happy new year! thank you for all the kindness this year again. i hope you can continue to enjoy my works as i hopefully improve even more! thank you again. enjoy the fireworks as well as this fic featuring one of the characters that bring me most comfort! arisu ryohei. cheers c:

“How long has it been since you last saw fireworks?”

“Since that day.”

You looked up as the fireworks found by a group of hopeful teenagers set off and fired into the sky. They exploded into what felt like millions of colors from this up-close, floating above the hill you laid on. The grass was cold but the breeze was light.

It was New Years’, according to someone who’d managed to keep count. In the Borderlands, you didn’t think you’d ever celebrate that. But as old habits die hard, so do traditions. So when a group of high-schoolers giddily yell about having found nice alcohol and fireworks to celebrate, you can’t really do anything about how much their anticipation rubs off on you.

“I didn’t think I would feel this happy watching fireworks.” Arisu hummed in thought, before nodding to himself with a tight-lipped smile, “In here or ever, really.”

“Did you watch them before all of this? We didn’t talk much back in high school.”

“If Karube and Chota managed to pull me out of my room, then sometimes, yeah.” he said and cracked a bright, nostalgic smile. “Did you?”

“Maybe.” you sighed, smiling to yourself.

“So vague.” Arisu chuckled, “But really. This is kind of nice.”

You hummed in agreement. “It is. Surprisingly so.”

You heard cheering from further away and watched as the lights flew closer to the stars again. Arisu’s hand slowly moved over yours, and then clung onto it like it was the most important thing in the world. Truth was sometimes it did feel this way. Maybe you were the most important thing in each other’s worlds. Maybe you cared about one another more than you did anyone else. Maybe you would never admit it alive unless you’d fear one of you would die. But sometimes even while unsaid, some truths are spoken silently— Like in this case, through the touch of your hands holding each other.

You ignored the pain of the open wound under the bandages on your finger and Arisu did the same. Blood seeped through the white fabric and you knew you’d have to redo the whole bandage soon but in this moment not a part of you could worry or care about that. Maybe the comfort of holding each other’s hand was enough to numb the pain.

A new year didn’t mean much here. Maybe it didn’t mean much at all, even in the real world. But you made a wish to the stars for things to be okay this time around— For you two to be together, always. And Arisu silently hoped for you two to survive and somehow get out of this happy, and together.

Months since the meteors. And since the hospital.

You met Arisu Ryohei again.

You two were in the same class for a few years back in high school but hadn’t really talked much since. Somehow, seeing each other again while walking outside the hospital and realizing you’d both survived what seemed like the impossible brought you back together. And as of now, he was probably your closest friend.

As his closest friend, you decided it would be nice to spend New Year’s together to watch the fireworks or maybe fall asleep before it even reached midnight. Whatever it was, Arisu seemed to be on board. He liked coming over and staying with you, anyway.

The sun had long set and the stars were bright.

“Has it been a while since you saw fireworks?”

“Logically, yes. Somehow it doesn’t feel that long.”

Arisu hummed in agreement. “Same. Weird, huh?”

You laughed. “After everything? Honestly, not that much.”

Arisu chuckled and leaned back against the couch on your apartment balcony. It was a funny feeling to be thankful something as unbelievable as meteors crashing down on Tokyo and nearly killing you happened. It was a funny thing to love someone so much you’d be alright going through all the pain again if it meant meeting them again.

Arisu felt it too. Something way longer than the minute the doctors had told him about. Something like a lifetime of suffering spent alongside someone he held dear. Someone who helped him stay alive and not give up. Someone who sat at his side, watching fireworks in comforting silence. Someone he always felt close to without knowing why.

There was something both nostalgic and comforting about the fireworks. You couldn’t tell why exactly.

When Arisu’s hand timidly reached over to hold yours, you felt like it always belonged there, telling you all the things he didn’t dare say out loud.

I think I love you.

You tightened your hand around his and took a deep breath.

This is stupid but it feels like I’ve always known you.

Maybe the stars shining alongside the light of the fireworks had been kind enough to make the two of you meet again. Or perhaps the red scars that circled around your pinkies like rings were made with fate. Either way, you were meant to be.

Resurfacing

Pairing: Thanos (Choi Su-Bong) x Reader

Summary: After Su-Bong's last visit will you ever see him again?

Warnings: mentions of drug use, brief mentions of gore

Word Count: 1,951

Comments: Apologies if there are mistakes, I've tried to proofread but I've been super ill this weekend and I'm a bit out of it 🤧

<- Part Four

You told yourself you did the right thing. He wasn’t himself, and letting him stay would’ve made things worse. You were protecting him as much as yourself. He had to understand that, didn’t he? 

Still, no matter how many times you tried to convince yourself that it would be okay, you couldn’t shake the bad feeling that had settled over you the moment he walked out the door.

The worst part was you didn’t know if he regretted it, or if he even remembered what happened.

In the cold light of day, you couldn’t help but wonder what it all meant. Maybe he didn’t mean any of it. Maybe it was just the drugs talking. It had felt so real- the way he looked at you, the sound of his voice as he called you baby, the touch of his hand on your cheek. Was it real? Or just another night he’d forgotten?  

The thought made your stomach twist with uncertainty.

You forced yourself to go to work the next morning, unsure if it was a blessing or a curse. The distraction helped, but every few minutes your fingers twitched with the urge to check your phone, to see if he’d called - to see if he cared.

He hadn’t.

You tried to push it down, to focus on anything else. The rhythm of work, the chatter of customers, the busy routine. But the pit in your stomach didn’t ease.

Your boss must have noticed because, as the rush ended, she pulled you aside.

‘Are you okay sweetheart?’ She asked gently. 

You plastered on a smile. ‘Yeah, I’m just tired.’

She didn’t look convinced. ‘You’re quieter than usual today.’

You paused. You weren’t the type to just spill your problems to someone, but your boss had never been anything but kind. And maybe saying it out loud would make it feel less like it was swallowing you whole.

‘It's just my…friend. He left on a bad note yesterday and I haven’t heard from him at all today.’ You were careful to keep the details vague.

Your boss leaned against the counter and hummed knowingly. ‘The friend that walks you home?’

You nodded.

She gave you a small understanding smile. ‘Sweety, maybe you need to reach out to him first. I’ve been around long enough to know that if someone matters to you then it’s better to talk it out.’ She continued, placing a warm hand over yours. ‘Call him. Otherwise you’ll worry yourself sick.’

Her words stuck with you through the remainder of your shift. By the time you left you were done debating with yourself. The second you stepped outside, you pulled your phone out and clicked his contact.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three.

Voicemail.

You lowered your phone slowly, staring at it as if that would will him to answer. Maybe he was busy. Maybe he was asleep. Maybe he didn’t- … No. No more excuses.

You called him again.

Ring.

Ring.

Voicemail.

This time the rejection settled in you.

You gripped your phone so tightly that your fingers ached. The cold air nipped at you, but you barely noticed it compared to the hollow feeling taking over.

You shoved your phone to the bottom of your pocket and forced yourself to keep walking. You weren’t sure if you’d try again tomorrow.

Deep down, you wondered if he’d ever pick up.

The next few days blurred together, work, home, sleep. You’d tried calling again to no avail. Each time you were met with the same voicemail message, it felt like he’d built a wall between you. 

Eventually you stopped trying. Slowly, beginning to accept that maybe this was his way of saying goodbye without actually saying it. It hurt more than you’d care to admit, how easily he could just block you out.

Your apartment started to feel too big without him. You never realised how much he made himself at home. The way he took over your couch, or raided your fridge with no shame, or leaving half finished energy drinks on your table. Now it was back to being just you, and it felt lonelier than ever.

You spent evenings curled up on your couch, catching yourself glancing at the door more often than not, half expecting him to just show up. But he never did. 

You crawled into bed on the fourth night of no contact, emotionally exhausted, but sleep didn’t come easily. Thoughts of Su-Bong mixed with memories of the games circled around your mind, no matter how much you tried to push them away.

And then, at some point, your exhaustion won and darkness swallowed you whole.

At first there was nothing. Then the distant sound of screams filled the space around you. The air was suffocating, pressing down on you like a weight. 

A flash of movement caught your eye. Someone was there. A voice rasped out your name, it sounded oddly familiar. You tried to move towards it but the ground gave way beneath you. You fell hard, landing in something warm. When you looked down your breath hitched. The green numbered tracksuit clung to your body, soaked through with blood.

Piles of bodies surrounded you, their lifeless eyes staring straight at you. You tried to scramble back but something latched onto your ankle. A cold, lifeless hand. 

Panic surged through you as you kicked and thrashed but more hands reached out for you, dragging you into the darkness with them.

There was no way out.

You opened your mouth to scream…

And suddenly awoke with a jolt. Sharp breaths came quickly, your trembling hands gripped at your bed sheets. 

Your heart was beating so hard you thought it might break your ribs. You knew it wasn’t real, but the echo of the screams still rang in your ears. The panic still clawed at your chest.

Without thinking you reached for your phone, calling the one person who would understand what you’re going through. It didn’t ring long enough for you to even doubt whether he’d pick up.

‘Hey?’

At the sound of his voice you froze, fingers tightening around your phone. For days your calls had gone unanswered, you’d come to expect the sound of the voicemail. But now his voice sent a jolt through you.

‘Su-Bong?’ Your voice was quiet and disbelieving, as if you’d imagined him answering. 

There was a brief pause, you heard him shift and take a breath, then he was suddenly more alert. ‘What’s wrong? You okay?’

The concern in his tone shocked you almost as much as the fact he’d answered at all.

You tried to steady your breathing before carrying on. ‘I just, it was…’ you suddenly felt stupid, embarrassed that this was the way you two were finally talking again. ‘It was just a nightmare, I’m fine. Sorry for waking you.’

‘I’m coming over.’

‘No, you don’t have to-‘

‘I’ll be there soon.’

He ended the call before you could question him.

You stared down at your phone, breath still coming too fast. A cold sweat coated your skin, the fear still lingering. The images from the nightmare stayed sharp in your mind, refusing to fade completely.

But now something else was added to your nerves. Su-Bong was on his way over.

After the way he’d left. After four days of nothing.

Would you both pretend like nothing happened? Your heart continued to pound for a different reason now. You had no idea what to expect when he showed up. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it because before you knew it there was a light knock at your door.

You felt unsteady as you made your way to the door. You simply stared at it for a moment, your hand hovering over the handle, The last time he’d been here he’d disappeared without a word. But he’d actually shown up. He was here. You unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Su-Bong stood on the other side, looking slightly out of breath and as though he hadn’t slept much either with tousled hair and a hoodie thrown on haphazardly. He kept his distance, the space between you felt heavier than it should. 

Neither of you spoke at first, but his eyes searched yours like he was looking for something, like he was waiting. The memory of your last conversation clung to the silence. Now here he was, in your time of need. Like that last time hadn’t happened, like he hadn’t ignored your calls. Your throat felt tight. Should you say something? Should he?

Then, softly, he asked ‘You okay?’

You wanted to say yes, it was just a stupid nightmare, and apologise for calling him. But standing there, staring into his eyes the truth slipped out before you could stop it. ‘No.’

His expression shifted, but he didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, closing the distance between you and wrapping his arms around you, firm but cautious.

He held you tightly, grounding you but there was something else. He was being careful, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to hold you like this. It was in the way his fingers hovered briefly before tracing soothing circles across your back.

His breath hitched when you clung to him. Gripping his hoodie like it was a lifeline. His touch became more sure, his warmth fully enveloping you. You finally felt safe as the memories of the nightmare began to fade away. 

‘It’s okay,’ he murmured into your hair. ‘I’ve got you.’

A shaky breath escaped you, and suddenly the weight of everything crashed down onto you. The nightmare, the four days of silence, the games. Your fingers curled tighter into his hoodie as tears stung your eyes.

You squeezed your eyes shut, but it was useless. A single tear slipped down your cheek, and then another. 

Su-Bong must have felt you shake, because he shifted slightly, pulling you closer. ‘I’ve got you,’ he repeated gently. 

That was all it took, your tears fell harder, there was no hiding the way your shoulders trembled or the way your breath stuttered against his chest. Su-Bong held you through it, continuing to rub slow circles across your back.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there before the tears slowed. But after a while your legs began to feel weak, noticing this Su-Bong gently guided you to the couch. He gestured for you to sit down, waiting until you did to settle beside you. 

‘You wanna talk about it?’ He asked.

And for a moment you weren’t sure if he was referring to the nightmare or to the last time you saw him. You knew you should probably talk about both, but not tonight.

Tonight you just wanted to enjoy the comfort he’d brought you, so you shook your head and remained quiet. 

‘Alright.’ He didn’t push. Just settled back into the cushions, like it was a normal night. As if everything between you wasn’t a mess of unspoken questions.

After a beat he reached for the tv remote, flicking it onto a random programme with the volume low. It was a distraction. A kindness. You focused on it for a while, letting it drown out the remaining thoughts.

Minutes passed before you realized he had draped an arm across the back of the couch, close enough that if you leaned just a little, you’d be against him. You hesitated for only a moment before shifting toward him. He didn’t react at first, but then you felt it—the way his fingers curled slightly, barely brushing your shoulder. A silent reassurance.

Neither of you spoke after that. You didn’t need to, not yet.

For the first time in days, the pressure in your chest eased.

-> Part 6 coming soon Series Masterlist

Taglist:@andersonslove @fallout-girl219 @olasz-2003 @l5byrinth @hotdxdragon @cherrypied0lly@nicklet94 @learninglinesintherainn @tebteb @lotsa-juicy-shit @onecojg @the-iridescent-phoenix @red22wolf

huh a break what? they’re definitely posting on saturday again you guys!!!!! (me in denial)

In denial rn

it’s missing trent’s locs hours everyone clock in

'cause i don't wanna be in love with another / even in another life

pairing: arisu ryohei x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 965

notes: need s3 to be released immediately, mandatory apology for my inconsistent posting, uni is killing me, only one bed trope, established relationship, arisu is touch starved a little bit, awkward loser arisu my beloved <33, not proofread !! pls forgive any mistakes, title from the maria's - heavy

the twin sized mattress is far too small for two people - easily evidenced by the cramped way ARISU RYOHEI’S shoulder awkwardly brushes against your own. his entire body feels stiff; he feels more like a corpse than a man when he shuffles slightly, still overly close to you. 

the beach is never quiet. even within the confines of a hotel room you had chosen at random, you can vaguely hear the music blasting throughout the hotel. chatter fills the otherwise quiet night. if you’re not careful enough, you can sometimes walk in on a session of drunken sex or a drug deal in progress. neon lights dance across the sky, drowning out the stars that are visible near the eerily empty shopping centers and traffic lights. 

arisu freezes when you roll onto your side, moving even close to him in the process. it feels like the entire world shifts when you do. despite all of his effort, you’re impossible to ignore. “arisu,” you whisper. your voice cuts through the darkness, stealing his attention away from the intricate patterns engraved into the ceiling. the man twists just enough to face you, overly conscious of every movement he makes. “are you alright?”

arisu swallows. hard. he sends a silent prayer that the shake in his voice will disappear by the time he quietly murmurs, “i’m fine.”

the butterflies swarming throughout his stomach only seem to increase when you chuckle quietly. you smile softly. sweetly. “you don’t have to be so nervous, you know.” you reach up, gingerly resting a hand against his cheek. arisu’s skin feels hot against your palm as you trace your thumb against his cheekbone. “if you’re not ready to share a bed i can go find somewhere else to sleep. i’m sure kuina wouldn’t mind.”

“no! no- i-” arisu stutters. his face flushes an embarrassingly deep shade of red and his mind races. he desperately tries to remember whatever advice karube had drunkenly told him over rounds of cheap beer and ramen noodles. “please don’t go. i want this.” 

there’s a pause. arisu squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for you to say something. an apology lingers on the tip of his tongue, about to escape from his lips when you murmur- “good,” you smile. “i want this, too.” 

outside of your window, glass shatters. loud cheers fill the night as the party rages on with no regard for the time of night. arisu has never been a fan of parties, preferring to stand in the corner and watch as karube flirted with anyone who seemed interested or slipping outside under the guise of a “smoke break” with chota for some fresh air. 

you don’t seem to mind, however, as you shuffle ever so closer. your hand slips away from his face, leaving goosebumps in its wake. arisu frowns softly at the loss of warmth before you wrap your arm around his waist instead. 

beneath the cheap hotel blankets, you further entangle your body with arisu’s. he can’t seem to pull away. or, maybe he doesn’t want to. he hasn’t quite figured it out yet. 

but when you curl your body further against him, now leaning your head against his shoulder, he lets out a quiet breath. slowly, the tension in his body begins to slip away. his anxiety lessens with each passing moment until his heartbeat has calmed to a slow, rhythmic beating in his chest.

this time when he turns to face you, your eyes are closed. soft breaths occasionally leave your parted lips. tentatively, arisu brushes a shaky hand through your hair. he tucks a few stray strands behind your ear. 

with your features now exposed, he can see the way neon light streaming in despite the closed curtains dances across your cheeks. before arisu knows it, his lips have curled upwards into a soft smile. he lowers his hand until it rests against the curve of your waist, just below your rib cage. 

now finally comfortable, arisu allows himself to relax against the pillows. his own eyes flutter shut as the incessant pounding of the dj’s music begins to lull him to sleep. maybe he could get used to this.

if you enjoyed this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my aib masterlist <33

You are everything to me, you know?

|Go Hyuntak (Gotak) x Fem!Reader

|Slow burn, Friends to lovers, jealousy, Declaration

English is not my first language.

You had known Gotak forever. Since the days he wore sneakers too big for his feet and turned red whenever the teacher asked him to read out loud. He grew up — and so did you — but something between you two never changed: he was always there. Like a silent rock. A safe harbor.

It was the kind of friendship no one dared question, even though many whispered behind your backs:

— "Are they sure they're just friends?" — they'd whisper in the hallways.

And you’d answer with an awkward smile. Because deep down… not even you were sure anymore.

Gotak never talked about it either. He just stayed by your side, holding your backpack when you were tired, waiting for you in silence after class, protecting you from anyone who crossed the line.

But things started to change.

Especially after a new student — Jinwoo — joined your class. He was kind, funny, and started chatting with you every day. Harmless... until Gotak began clenching his jaw every time he got near.

— "Gotak?" — you called out one day after class, feeling the strange tension in the air.He barely looked at you.

— "Hm?"

— "Are you okay?"

He finally looked straight at you. His gaze was intense, heavy, like it carried a bunch of words he’d never dared to say.

— "You've been spending a lot of time with that guy from your class. The idiot who keeps trying to make you laugh."

You blinked.

— "He's just a friend."

— "I don’t like him." — His voice was quieter. Almost hoarse. — "I don’t like how he looks at you."

Your heart skipped a beat.

You tried to play it cool, but the silence between you already said everything.

That day, Gotak didn’t walk you home. And you watched his back disappear around the corner, feeling like something was missing from your chest.

Two days later, he showed up in front of your house. Backpack slung over his shoulder, hair tousled by the wind.

— "Can you come down?" — he asked, straight to the point.You came down. He looked more nervous than you’d ever seen him.

— "Did something happen?"He looked away for a second. Then looked back at you, this time with force.

— "I like you."

Simple. Raw. Real.

You felt the air leave your lungs.

— "I’ve liked you for a long time. Way before this Jinwoo guy. Since... way before. But I stayed quiet because I thought you deserved someone better. Someone gentler, who knew how to say beautiful things." — He paused, jaw tense. — "But seeing another guy trying to win you over... it hurt. And I’m an idiot for waiting this long, I know. But if there’s still time..."

Gotak took a deep breath. Closed his eyes for a second, like he was gathering courage.

— "I want to be that someone. I want to see you smile and know I’m the reason. I want to hold your hand, protect you from the world, not just as a friend. As... your boyfriend."

The silence felt like it froze time for a few seconds.

You smiled. Slowly, but with your heart full.

— "You’re an idiot... but you’re my idiot. And yes, I want that."

The relief in his eyes was so pure it made you want to cry. But instead, he stepped closer and pulled you into a tight hug. The kind of hug that said everything he didn’t know how to express in words. His forehead resting against yours. Eyes closed. Heart racing.

Gotak whispered:

— "You’re everything to me, you know?"

You smiled, heart pounding in your chest. You raised a hand to his face, gently caressing his warm cheek.

— "Then stop talking and kiss me already."

He froze for a second — surprised, almost laughing nervously — then leaned in, slowly, like he was afraid to ruin the moment. But once his lips touched yours, all the nervousness vanished.

The kiss was soft at first, shy, like you were both still getting used to the idea that this was really happening. But then came the certainty, the surrender. It was like years of friendship, care, affection, and hidden feelings finally found a place to explode.

He held your face in both hands, keeping you close, like you were the most precious thing in the world. And deep down, that’s exactly what you were to him.

When you pulled apart, both of you were still smiling, breathless.

— "Is it official now?" — you asked softly.

Gotak nodded.

— "Now it’s forever."

And that night, the silence between you was sealed with a kiss — and a new story was finally beginning.

Thank you to everyone who read this far. ⁠♡