New Romantics

lost and found

hwang jun-ho x f!reader

the world is cruel, and you and the officer find out that it will get worse.

warnings: mentions of death! unfortunately, squid game is in this one. romantic tension. slow burn-ish. this takes place during season 1. junho being innocently stalker-ish. PTSD, stealing/theft, pre-established relationship, it gets spicy towards the end. platonic saebyeok x f!reader and platonic gi hun x f!reader too.

the city of seoul has never been kind to you.

it used to be, once upon a time. when you were young and did not know much, before the world decided to spit you out like something bitter and unwanted. back then, you were soft. you had this endless capacity to love, to forgive, to believe that people were good at their core. 

maybe some still are, but you don’t care to look for them anymore. there was a time when your empathy was your greatest strength…when you saw someone struggling, you helped, even if it meant giving them the last bit of food in your pocket. 

however, life has a way of chewing up people like you. people who give too much. people who don’t know when to stop bleeding for others.

so now, you don’t give. 

you take.

survival in seoul isn’t kind to the softhearted. there are too many wolves in this city, too many people ready to step on your neck the moment you let your guard down. you learned that the hard way. so you adjusted, adapted. you became what you needed to be to live. 

you steal, scam, and take what you need from those who won’t miss it. not too much…never enough to bring too much attention to yourself or get charged for the felony equivalent in south korea. you only steal enough to survive. enough to make it another day. 

your hands are quick, your mind sharper. you’ve learned how to slip through the cracks of the world, how to turn your heart into steel since nobody else ever cared about you.

some nights, when the neon lights of hongdae reflect against the pavement and the city hums with life, you sit alone and wonder if there’s a way out of this. the party life is just right outside of your apartment.

sometimes you wonder if there’s a light waiting for you at the end of the tunnel. 

each time, the answer is the same. 

no.

there is no light. there is only the dark tunnel.

in seoul, it’s late, the air thick with the scent of soju and grilled meat, laughter spilling out from the bars lining the street. the party district of hongdae is alive, especially tonight since college students go back to school tommorow.

the sidewalks are crammed with people stumbling between clubs, couples clinging to each other, groups of friends taking drunken selfies under the flickering streetlights. it’s an easy place to disappear into, a perfect hunting ground for someone like you.

you spot the redhead almost immediately.

she looks around your age, maybe a little older. the woman’s purse hangs loosely over her shoulder, the zipper half-open, a bunch of 50,000 won bills peeking out. 

that girl is too careless. too trusting, too stupid. your fingers twitch. you don’t hesitate. you step forward, close enough to brush past her, then your hand snatches the purse in one swift motion.

“hey!” she yelps, whirling around, reaching for you. the girl’s fingers graze your sleeve, but you’re faster. you yank the purse away, shoving her back hard. she stumbles, hitting the pavement with a startled cry. 

you don’t feel anything. not guilt, not regret. you feel just the rush of adrenaline as you clutch the stolen bag tighter and start to run off.

then…

“hey, stop!”

your head snaps behind.

a police officer.

the voice of authority cuts through the noise of the crowd, sharp and commanding. your eyes lock onto him for a split second…a man with dark hair, strong jaw, eyes locked onto you with unwavering determination.

fuck.

you don’t hesitate. your feet move before your mind can catch up, body twisting as you bolt into the crowd. the bag is clutched tight in your arms as you weave through bodies, heart slamming against your ribs. behind you, the officer is still yelling, shoving past people, chasing you.

it’s a long run. too long. your lungs burn, your legs scream in protest, but you can’t stop. not now. you need this money to survive and cannot spend a night in a cold cell, not again at least.

the streets blur as you sprint, twisting through alleyways, slipping through groups of people too drunk to notice you. the officer is persistent, but so are you. 

the desperation makes you faster in way.

left. right. through a narrow gap between two buildings. past a food stall. over a railing. you smacked into a few people but most of them mainly found entertainment in the whole thing. the police officer being frustrated that they didn’t catch you for him. 

you can still hear his feet running behind you, but the distance is growing. he’s good, but you’re better. you have to be.

finally, finally, you see an opening…a narrow alley packed with people, bodies pressed together in drunken laughter. you push into the throng, squeezing between them, head down, moving fast. 

the moment you’re inside the mass of people, you twist, slipping out the other side.

the officer doesn’t make it through in time.

you could swear that you heard him swear, then nothing.

you keep running until you’re sure he’s gone, until your lungs burn and your vision blurs.

back in the alley, hwang jun-ho stands at the edge of the crowd, hands on his knees, breathing hard. frustration twists in his chest. 

he catches everyone, but not you tonight. 

not this time.

just a few blocks away, you just linger among the party crowd. you don’t go home immediately since that would be stupid. instead, you just take a long, winding path through backstreets and alleyways, making sure no one is following you. 

only when you’re certain that you’ve shaken off any lingering attention do you head back to your apartment.

your door has two locks, and you slide the security bar into place before exhaling. safe.

the stolen purse hits your kitchen island with a dull thud. you waste no time, unzipping it and dumping everything out onto the table.

a fenty lip gloss, used and sticky. gross. a single tampon, the woman could’ve kept that.

a metro card..you toss it straight into the trash since it's too risky and can be tracked.

then, jackpot.

there were identification cards which were meaningless to you. the thick wad of cash though? that’s everything. you grab the bills, hands steady as you start counting. 10,000 won, 50,000 won, 100,000 won… when you’re finished, the total stands at 1,200,000 won.

this isn’t just a good night. this is security. rent for next month, covered. a few days inside, hidden, making sure that officer doesn’t recognize you.

you let out a slow breath. for now, you’re safe.

well, only for three days because now the cold steel of the chair digs into your back as you slouch against it, wrists resting lazily in your lap, the handcuffs cold against your skin. the precinct smells of burnt coffee and old papers, fluorescent lights humming above you.

you had a few days of peace before the cops knocked on your door, telling you that you had to go down to the station. they know you by name now, not bothering to go an extra mile since you never change the signature of your crimes.

the only reason you’re not behind bars is because the girl you robbed doesn’t even live here. she already went back to her home in the UK according to the officer. so, fortunately, you just get another warning. 

you should be relieved, maybe even grateful, but you don’t feel anything. nothing at all.

across from you, leaning against the edge of the desk with arms crossed, is the officer who chased you that night. hwang jun-ho is his name.

he is pissing you off. not for being a pig, but you hate that he looks good in the dim light, hate the sharp angles of his face, the slight furrow in his brow as he watches you like you’re some puzzle he can’t quite solve. 

you’re used to police officers looking at you with disgust, with judgment, but there’s something different in his gaze. curiosity.

“so,” he finally speaks, his voice even. 

“you’re fast.”

you shrug. 

“what can i say?”

he tilts his head slightly, gaze sweeping over you in assessment. 

“you play sports?”

you exhale sharply through your nose, a ghost of a laugh. 

“that’s not important.”

jun-ho smirks, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appears. 

“fair.”

he steps away, pacing to the side as he flips through a thin file…yours, probably. your name, your face, your crimes reduced to black ink on paper. you wonder how much of your life is in there, if they know more than just your record.

“you’ve been warned before,” he says, flipping a page.

 “a few times, actually. shoplifting. scams. pickpocketing.” he closes the file and meets your gaze. “but no felony charges.”

“guess i’m lucky,” you say, leaning back, feigning boredom.

“not luck,” jun-ho corrects, sliding his hands into his pockets. 

“just smart enough to not take it too far.” he tilts his head slightly. 

you say nothing, looking away.

“give back the purse.”

you reach your cuffed hands under the table, grabbing the bag and tossing it onto the desk between you. the leather is slightly worn from the days you’ve had it, but nothing else is out of place.

jun-ho watches you carefully, then sighs. 

“the money.”

you don’t move.

the money is in your safe, in your bedroom walls, at home. 

the money you refuse to give back.

he exhales through his nose, shaking his head like he expected this. 

“of course.”

you let the silence settle between you, waiting for whatever lecture is coming, but he doesn’t scold you. instead, he leans in just slightly, dropping his voice.

“i’m keeping an eye on you.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. 

“right. cause you’ve got nothing better to do.”

jun-ho doesn’t react, his face unreadable. 

“considering this isn’t your first warning? yeah. i don’t.”

you push back in your chair, the metal legs scraping against the floor. 

“well, officer,” you say, tone sharp with sarcasm, “i look forward to our next meeting.”

jun-ho watches as you’re escorted out, his eyes following you even as you disappear down the hall.

weeks pass and you try to forget about the encounter, about the way his voice sounded when he said your name, about the way his dark eyes studied you like you were something worth understanding. 

you try to focus on surviving. 

you get a job… a shitty one, but one that pays enough to keep you afloat for now.

every now and then, when you step into a small café for breakfast, when you walk through the streets at night, when you’re with your only friend sae-byeok whispering about her crimes… he’s there.

jun-ho is never too far away, usually across the street or on the other side of a park.

he never does anything and he never speaks, but you see him, leaning against a wall, pretending to be busy with his phone, pretending to be on patrol. 

however, his eyes will always follow you.

one evening, you and sae-byeok finish a quick meal at a convenience store, standing outside by the flickering neon lights. she shoves her hands into her pockets, giving you a knowing look.

“that asshole is staring again.”

you sigh, glancing over.

jun-ho stands across the street, pretending he’s not looking directly at you.

sae-byeok chuckles under her breath. 

“he’s obsessed with you.”

“he’s a cop,” you mutter. 

“it’s his job to be annoying.”

she nudges your arm. 

“you should go say hi.”

“and what? tell him to fuck off?”

she grins. 

“exactly.”

you roll your eyes, watching as she walks off. 

once she’s gone, you take a deep breath and cross the street, closing the distance between you and jun-ho.

he looks up as you approach, not surprised.

“you’re a creep,” you say flatly.

jun-ho exhales through his nose, barely amused. 

“you’re a criminal.”

“not anymore.”

his brows lift slightly.

“really?”

“yeah,” you say, crossing your arms. 

“i found a job. so get off my back. i’m not stealing anymore.”

jun-ho hums, unconvinced. 

“that’s a trend for you.”

you glare at him. 

“what?”

he shrugs, “you get a job, hate the pay, then go back to stealing… sometimes from the same place you work at.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “you need a better hobby, i cannot live in your head rent free.”

“i have one,” he says, avoiding what you said last. 

“i’m just doing my job.”

you shake your head, stepping back. “whatever,” you mutter, turning on your heel and walking off. you know he won’t follow. he never does but somehow he’s always close.

overtime, maybe a week or so.. jun-ho never thought that he’d be the type of cop to get overly invested. not really. working for the police is his job…catching criminals, chasing leads, dealing with lowlifes who made their money through terrible means. he never let himself get too curious, never let himself care too much to where it affected his personal life.

however, you, you are a puzzle he can’t help but try to solve.

at first, it was just an annoyance. you had slipped through his fingers that night in hongdae, and that bruised his ego. he didn’t lose people, but somehow, you had outrun him. a girl whos shorter than him.

when he finally caught you, he had expected to feel satisfaction, but it never came because instead, he just felt intrigued.

now, you’re barely doing anything wrong. you’ve stayed out of trouble for a while, and he should be relieved. he should be happy. instead, he finds himself watching and observing because despite all the things you’ve done, despite the walls you keep up, there are cracks in that mask of yours… ones he never expected to see.

he sees it in the way you linger at the local market, the way your fingers brush over fresh fruit before you tuck them carefully into a paper bag, paying with what little money you have. he wonders why you never steal from here, why the vendors greet you with small nods instead of suspicion.

junho sees it in the alley behind the convenience store, where stray cats weave between your ankles, tails flicking in contentment as you crouch down to feed them scraps of tuna and unseasoned chicken. 

you don’t talk to them, don’t coo at them like most people would… but your hands are gentle, your touch careful, as if you’re afraid of breaking something fragile.

then, there’s the lemonade stand thing that happened yesterday afternoon.

jun-ho didn’t even mean to see it. he’s just in the police car, just patrolling, when he spots you across the street. there’s a kid that sis no older than ten standing behind a makeshift stand with a pitcher of lemonade and a stack of plastic cups. 

the sign is messy, written in thick, uneven strokes. 1,000 won per cup!

he watches as you pause, as you reach into your pocket, pulling out a crumpled bill.

you hand it to the boy.

you don’t take the over-sweetened lemonade. you just shove your hands in your pockets and walk away before the kid can even thank you.

jun-ho doesn’t know why that bothers him so much.

maybe it’s because it doesn’t fit the version of you he’s built in his head. the version that’s cold, calculating, selfish, and greedy. that version is wrong, isn’t it? a selfish person wouldn’t waste their own money on a kid just trying to make some change. 

a selfish person wouldn’t play with stray cats or make sure to buy expensive fruit instead of stealing it.

he doesn’t know what your story is, but he’s starting to understand that you are not heartless. reckless? yes. irresponsible? absolutely. not cruel. not fully empty like you try to seem.

that fact is becoming his problem.

he’s read your file. he knows more than he should. your past, the childhood neglect, the system that failed you over and over again. he’s seen it before with people turning bitter, turning desperate, because the world gave them nothing and expected them to make do.

he’s a police officer, not a superhero. he can’t fix that or fix you.

junho wishes you would just stop making stupid decisions. maybe if you did, maybe if you found a way out of this cycle.

maybe then, he could approach you differently.

maybe then, he wouldn’t just be watching.

see, you’re not stupid.

jun-ho might be a good cop, but he’s a shit liar.

he acts like he’s patrolling, like he’s just doing his job. you know better. he’s watching you nd keeping tabs on you. the man is always near, always somewhere in the background. does he have a wife? kids? maybe not, he is still on the younger side. maybe just five to seven years older than you. its clear that he is single with too much freetime.

maybe if you were the same person you were five years ago, soft, trusting, and hopeful, you would have been creeped out, even scared that a police officer was suspicious of you. 

now, it just makes you feel something you don’t want to name.

you know you haven’t stolen in weeks. you haven’t picked a pocket, scammed a dumb drunk, or lifted a wallet off a distracted tourist. that 1,200,000 won is keeping you stable… at least for now. long enough, hopefully, until jun-ho gets bored and moves on.

lately, the thought of him moving on, of him not watching you anymore, makes your chest feel tight because no one notices you. no one ever has in the large city of seoul.

your only friend, sae-byeok, even disappeared at times. 

throughout your whole life, you’ve been invisible to the people who should’ve cared, to the world that chewed you up and spat you out, to the strangers who walk past you every day without a second glance. 

jun-ho, that damn police officer, he sees you. even if he’s just doing it because he thinks you’ll screw up again, even if it’s nothing but routine for him, it still means something.

that pisses you off.

he’s annoying because he’s too attractive for his own good, because he gets under your skin in a way no one else does or has ever had.

so when you spot him across the street, writing up some guy for speeding, you don’t think and you just move.

you stand a few feet away and wait until he’s finished, watching as he hands over the ticket with that same unimpressed expression he always wears. when the guy finally drives off in frustration, you step forward, hands in your pockets, your voice laced with teasing amusement.

“well, it looks like you finally found something else to do besides watching me.”

jun-ho doesn’t even look surprised. just rolls his eyes as he slips his notepad back into his jacket. 

“trust me, you’re not that interesting.”

you smirk. 

“oh, really? then why are you always around?”

he exhales sharply, shaking his head. 

“coincidence.”

“bullshit.”

he huffs a laugh, crossing his arms. 

“you’re awfully confident for someone who’s one mistake away from getting arrested.”

you tilt your head, stepping a little closer, just enough to make it personal. 

“i haven’t stolen in weeks. you know that. so what’s your excuse, officer?”

jun-ho says nothing, just looks at you, unreadable. for a second, you think you see something flicker in his eyes… something not quite irritation, not quite amusement.

then he sighs, “go home, y/n. it's getting late.”

you grin, ignoring the way his voice sounds when he says your name. 

“whatever you say, officer.”

you step back, turning on your heel, but before you walk away, you glance over your shoulder.

“see you tomorrow.”

jun-ho doesn’t respond, but you don’t need him to because you both know the truth. i mean there were no plans but he is never too far away from you.

not even an hour later in the subway, you press your tongue against the inside of your cheek, fingers gripping the red square piece of paper between your thumb and index finger. 

your palms sting, and faint imprints of the salesman’s hand still tingling against the skin on your face. the bastard had slapped you twice, only twice, but your pride felt more bruised than your face.

you should’ve walked away from the salesman who sat down next to you, you should’ve kept your head down, taken your money from the last round, and gone home. the moment he laughed at you, and told you that him and his “organization” knew everything about you, you knew that this was no coincidence. 

the salesman had handed you a small card before leaving the station, something he implied that would change your life. it was thin, a little worn at the edges, the symbols on the front simple but strange: a circle, a triangle, a square.

you flip it over.

a phone number.

“call when you’re ready for your chance,” the man had said, smiling like he knew something you didn’t.

you stare at the numbers, tapping the card against your palm as the subway car sways gently beneath your feet. 

something about it feels off. it’s too mysterious, too cryptic… but the promise of financial freedom? of something bigger?

you need that.

you close your eyes briefly, exhaling through your nose. you don’t know why, but in the back of your mind, you wish jun-ho had been there.

not to stop you, necessarily… but just to be there.

if he had been, maybe he would’ve told you to be careful. maybe he would’ve pulled you away from the salesman, away from whatever this was, away from another stupid decision.

however, jun-ho has his own problems.

across the city, jun-ho exhales sharply, staring at the thin card between his fingers. little did you know, he did have a life outside of work. junho’s mind is elsewhere, swirling with frustration, worry, and a growing sense of unease. 

inho, his older brother, his only family besides his mom, has been missing for weeks.

no leads. no clues. just gone. until now.

the man in front of him.. gi-hun, scruffy, desperate, looking defeated, tells junho that he made up a lie at the police station. a lie about a card that junho saw on his brother’s desk. 

“where did you get this?” jun-ho asks, his voice steady but demanding.

jun-ho remembers the card. a circle. triangle. square.

inho had this same card in his apartment before he vanished.

when gihun walks away, junho lets him but he does not give up. 

meanwhile, you sit in the subway car, flipping the card between your fingers, picking on the inside of your cheek with your teeth.

a few nights later, jun-ho knows that he shouldn’t be here outside.

it’s past midnight, and he should be going home after his shift, should be focusing on his brother, should be figuring out why gi-hun is connected to all of this. however, when he spots gi-hun walking down the empty street, he moves on instinct, following from a safe distance.

the thing is that he doesn’t expect to see you but there you are passing gi hun on the block, keeping your head down while walking down the quiet street.

you don’t see junho. you’re too busy walking, hands deep in your pockets, shoulders tense. at first, he assumes the worst… that you’re about to do something stupid, that you’re going back to your old habits, that you’ll make him chase you again.

he should leave you alone but junho can’t so he detours, shadowing you instead.

but then, you stop.

jun-ho narrows his eyes, staying low behind a parked car. you stand outside a small park, unmoving. your hands tighten in your pockets, and for a moment, it almost looks like you’re hesitating and then the van pulls up.

jun-ho stiffens, watching as you glance up, exhaling a breath before stepping forward. the door slides open and you climb in. three seconds later, smoke fills up the van’s windows. a thick, white, flooding the air.

jun-ho’s heart pounds. he watches as the van lingers for only a few seconds before pulling away, disappearing down the street.

“the hell?” he mutters under his breath, immediately making his way back to his car. the officers hands grip the wheel tightly as he follows, keeping a careful distance, headlights off. the man’s mind races… who the hell were these people? did you know them? were you in danger?

the van slows down five blocks later and and jun-ho’s stomach drops.

gi-hun, standing with the same look you had.

the van door slides open again, the same cloud of smoke spilling out into the night air.

gi-hun stumbles, barely reacting before he collapses, his body slumping forward.

jun-ho grips the steering wheel tighter, his jaw clenching.

this wasn’t just some underground scam.

this was something else, something big, and now, he had to protect two people.

one… a man who might be his only lead to his missing brother.

the other… a woman who had no idea what kind of hell she was walking into.

three days later, your body is stiff, motionless, even as your mind screams at you to run. that is because you don’t belong here. you never did.

the deaths, the endless and ruthless deaths, should’ve broken you by now. however, you refuse to let it show. you refuse to let anyone see that you’re barely keeping yourself together, that your heart threatens to claw its way out of your chest every time a gunshot echoes through the air.

sae-byeok notices, though. she always does.

she ended up in these games. she is player 067, and you are player 404. luckily, sae byeok stays close, her presence grounding you, keeping you from slipping too far into your own head. you’ve survived red light, green light. you’ve survived dalgona, but surviving isn’t the same as living.

you exhale slowly, fists clenched as the guards flood into the dorms due to some sort of situation. their guns are raised, black masks concealing their faces. your eyes flick to sae-byeok, who remains perfectly still, her expression unreadable. 

beside you, gi-hun tenses.

a guard steps forward, voice sharp.

“do you know any player by the name of hwang in-ho?”

gi-hun shakes his head. 

“no.”

“w-we don’t use our names in here.”

he continues, 

however, your breath hitches, barely audible.

because that voice…

you turn your head, scanning the line of guards, your heart pounding against your ribs.

it’s stupid. so stupid.

you’re being paranoid. you’re in survival mode, and your mind is playing tricks on you.

jun-ho is not here.

for a second, just a second, your eyes lock onto the guard that was behind you. somehow, the guard doesn’t look away.

your throat tightens but it’s impossible.

stop thinking about jun-ho all the time. he is not here.

you force yourself to clear your thoughts, shaking your head slightly before looking away, pretending the moment never happened.

the guards stay for a few more minutes, checking something… you don’t know what, don’t care what… before they leave. 

however, you sit back down in exhaustion, hoping to get out of here soon. 

three more days go by and the air is thick with the stench of blood and rain.

your fingers twitch, your breathing shallow, but all you can do is stare. sang-woo’s body lies motionless in front of you, crimson pooling beneath him. dead. you should feel something. anything. relief, maybe. satisfaction. however, all you feel is rage. burning, searing rage.

sae-byeok should be here. sangwoo killed sae-byeok just a few hours before this moment.

sae-byeok should be standing beside you, should be breathing, should be alive.

the only person in your life is now gone.

now it’s just you and gi-hun.

you tighten your fists, nails digging into your palms as the finality of it all crashes down on you like a tidal wave. you won. you and gi-hun are the last ones standing. it doesn’t feel like a victory though, it feels like a punishment.

you don’t remember much after that.

it’s all a blur. the way the guards forced you into a van, blindfolded, hands tied. you barely even processed the moment they threw you back onto the cold pavement of the city, the impact sending a sharp ache through your ribs. you untie yourself quickly, fingers trembling slightly as you rip the blindfold off, blinking against the dim streetlights.

you’re back but not in those suffocating green jumpsuits, not in that godforsaken arena of death. you’re in your own clothes. the same ones you wore before stepping into that van all those days ago.

your breath comes out shaky as you pat yourself down, desperate for something, anything, that proves this wasn’t some fever dream, that you’re really standing here, that you made it out.

your fingers brush against something solid, metallic. your stomach twists. slowly, you pull it from your pocket. a gold card. your hands tremble as you stare at it. you already know what it means.

however, you have to see it with your own eyes. 

you take off running, feet pounding against the pavement as you sprint to the nearest ATM.

your heart is hammering in your chest when you shove the card into the machine, barely able to keep your hands steady. the screen loads, the numbers processing.

your breath catches.

balance: 22.8 billion won.

you sway on your feet, gripping the edge of the ATM, fingers white-knuckled.

you made it. you’re free since there is no more stealing, no more running, no more waking up every day wondering if you’ll make it to the next.

you won.

why does it feel so fucking hollow?

why does the sight of those numbers on the screen make your stomach churn instead of settle?

why do you feel like you lost more than you won?

you exhale, stepping away from the ATM, forcing yourself to straighten.

you have to keep moving.

you have to act normal because the moment you let this break you, the moment you let the cracks widen,  is the moment you really lose.

deep down, you know it.

things aren’t over yet.

more weeks go by and your apartment doesn’t feel like home anymore. it’s the same. its the same same peeling wallpaper, same secondhand furniture, same dim lighting that flickers in the kitchen. however, you are different.

the streets outside are loud, too loud. car horns make you flinch, sudden shouts send ice down your spine, and every time you close your eyes, you see flashes of red. of green. of bodies hitting the ground. living in the city does not seem like a smart idea anymore.

however, you force yourself to settle back into your old routine. you buy fruit at the market. you feed the stray cats. you pretend everything is fine.

nothing is fine.

suddenly, a knock on your door brings back another old routine.

it’s light. soft.

you don’t flinch since it was so light but your heart pounds anyway.

you hesitate before opening the door, fingers gripping the handle tighter than necessary. when you see him standing there, alive, real,  your breath catches in your throat.

jun-ho.

for a moment, you just stare.

your chest tightens, your throat burns, and you feel dangerously close to crying. for weeks, you’ve convinced yourself that he moved on. that he never noticed you were gone and that he forgot you. he’s here.

junho’s eyes scan your face carefully, like he’s checking to see if you’re really okay.

“can i come in?” his voice is softer than you remember.

you nod quickly, stepping aside.

he enters, his presence filling the small space as you shut the door behind him. he doesn’t move much, just stands there, hands in his pockets, eyes lingering on you.

“tea?” you offer, voice hoarse.

“water’s fine if you have any.”

you pour him a glass, setting it down in front of him before sitting across from him at your small table. the silence stretches between you both as you sit down in front of him at your table.

the weight of everything presses down on your chest.

“i was there, too.”

you freeze at his words.

jun-ho exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw. 

“on the island. i followed gi-hun. i was looking for my missing brother.”

your stomach twists, you did not know this much information about junho.

“you know gi-hun?”

he nods. 

“yeah. he led me there without realizing it.” he hesitates, eyes locking onto yours. 

he didn’t speak for a moment as you looked at him with curiosity, is he okay? was he a player? why didn’t you see him? how didn’t he get caught? 

“i pretending to be a guard. the circle one that you saw that day in the dorms. later on I got shot in my shoulder, but i am okay.” 

junho reassures. yet, you are not reassured. 

“i was looking out for you, too.”

your breath shudders.

he leans forward slightly. 

“when i saw you get in that van, i—” he stops, jaw tightening. 

“i thought i lost you.”

something inside you cracks.

you don’t know when the tears start. one second, you’re staring at him, trying to hold it together, and the next, your vision blurs, hot tears spilling down your cheeks. jun-ho doesn’t say anything, just watches, just listens, as everything you’ve been holding in breaks.

“i didn’t sign up for that,” you choke out, voice shaking. 

“i thought— i thought it was just games. just money. i just wanted to be able to stop what i used to do.”

junho’s expression darkens, but he says nothing.

you shake your head, wiping at your face. 

“they killed them. all of them. and i– i just stood there, i just..”

you gasp, a sob wrenching from your throat before you can stop it.

jun-ho moves before you can register it. one second, you’re falling apart and the next, his arms are around you, pulling you close.

you freeze since his warmth seeps into you, his steady breathing grounding you. junho’s grip is firm, solid, real. this is the first time since sae-byeok’s death that you don’t feel alone.

you clutch the fabric of his shirt, your fingers curling tightly into the material as you let yourself feel. you cry for sae-byeok. for the people who didn’t make it. for the part of yourself that died on that island.

jun-ho holds you through all of it.

when your sobs quiet into shaky breaths, you whisper against his shoulder, “can you stay?”

he doesn’t hesitate.

“yeah,” he murmurs. “i’ll stay.”

he needs this just as much as you do.

when you finally pull back, your face is inches from his.

the officer’s hand lingers on your back, his breath warm against your cheek. junho’s eyes, dark, searching, soft, flicker down to your lips for only a second before meeting your gaze again.

your heart pounds, but this time, it’s not from fear.

the officer is now living with you, but he is different now.

something inside of him has shifted, cracked beyond repair.

after finding out that his own brother, the one he spent so long searching for, was the mastermind behind that place, he couldn’t bring himself to go back to his old life. to the force and to the law because what was the point?

this world was cruel but you already knew that.

he spends his days with you now. at first, it’s small things, late breakfasts, quiet conversations, accompanying each other to the store, sitting in the same room without speaking. suddenly, it becomes something more. something deeper because you grow close. too close.

neither of you say anything about it.

the tension between you simmers beneath the surface, heavy and waiting. it’s in the way jun-ho’s eyes linger on you when you’re not looking, in the way your fingers brush against his when you pass him something, in the way your body tenses whenever he gets too close, but you never pull away.

one night, it finally snaps.

you wake up crying.

your dreams, no, your memories, are suffocating. blood, screams, gunfire. your body shakes, your chest tightens, and you can’t breathe.

you force yourself out of bed, wiping your face as you shuffle toward the kitchen. maybe water will help. maybe the cold tile beneath your feet will ground you. however, as you step out into the hallway, you stop.

jun-ho stands in the hallway, shirt loose, hair messy, his face unreadable. it looks like he just step outside of his room as well.

he looks like he hasn’t slept.

“you okay?” his voice is rough, like he hasn’t spoken in hours.

you nod. a lie.

he exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw. 

“couldn’t sleep.”

you swallow. 

“me neither.”

silence.

suddenly, it snaps, something snaps.

you don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, his lips are on yours.

it’s not soft. it’s not careful. it’s desperate.

junho’s hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you clutch onto him like he’s the only thing keeping you upright. the man’s mouth moves against yours with a hunger you’ve never felt before, his fingers digging into your skin like he’s afraid to let go.

this tension, this thing between you, it’s been there for so long, even before the games. before the world burned around you and now, it’s finally boiling over.

jun-ho backs you up, step by step, until your back hits the doorframe of your bedroom. junho’s breath is hot against your lips, his hands firm on your hips.

you don’t stop him because you don’t want to stop him.

junho’s lips find yours again, and this time, it’s slower, deeper, like he’s memorizing the way you taste. your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, feeling his abs as you pull him closer, and closer.

he groans softly against your mouth, and something about the sound sends a shiver down your spine.

you don’t even realize that your door opened until he’s guiding you backward, at least until your knees hit the bed.

your heart pounds, your breath shaky as his lips trail along your jaw, down to your neck, his hands never leaving your body.

you close your eyes, letting yourself drown in him, in this, in everything.

with junho, you realized this is where your nightmare ends. 

masterlist

FINNICK FLUFF FINNICK FLUFF FINNICK FLUFF

Nah but same my passion for this fandom reignited after watching tbosas, and I forgot how much I loved Finnick. Peeta and everyone else is absolutely great but Finnick's story just... My heart :( So any fluff resulting in Finnick getting a big old cuddle and being allowed to ask for things he wants and needs instead of doing anything he's asked out of instinct would be right up my alley, if that's amenable to you!

here it is i kind of combined it with another request but i hope you like it 🤍 TYSMMM FOR THE REQUEST

Future Promises

Dae-ho x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

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

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

Requested: Yes

Squid Game Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Slowly, Dae-ho nodded. “Be safe.”

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“What changed your mind?” the woman questioned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Player 201. Player 449. Player 091–”

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

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

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

“Count your players!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I listened,” Dae-ho replied. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

there's a trent as pingu thread on twitter 😭

https://x.com/guysplzshave/status/1788536368169443453?s=46

okay y’all i rewatched the hunger games in like a really long time and my feelings for both peeta and finnick have resurfaced (just like i do on here every few months)

but i suddenly got sm motivation to write for them so my reqs are open for these two!!

i mean just look at them 🙏🙏

YESSSSS YE SH ESG YES YES

USED TO PRAY FOR TIKES LIKE THISSSSSS

star night - jb blurb

masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa 🗣️: wow. what a week of ucl football! congratulations to all the teams that qualified 🤍 here's a tiny blurb with jude after his win yesterday as requested!! so proud of this man guys i can't :((

the strands on the bottom of your scarf had become your best friend throughout the game. making small knots or twisting strands together. nervous was one way to describe how you felt, but the huge bubble and pit in your tummy said more. covering your eyes when attempted goals were made, and gasping out reliefs when they were saved.

it was a total of 120 minutes, played, and in the end, penalties would determine who would advance. your eyes were glued onto the familiar tall figure, the 5 on the back, the one player who proved their worth after many talks and banters. you could tell he was tired, though he gave it his all.

the stadium went quiet for you, and all you heard was the rapid pulse in your veins as seconds passed. agony, cheers, tears, and laughter. it felt surreal, time went slow, and all you could focus on was him celebrating on the pitch, brown eyes gleaming with delight and relief as his team passed onto the next round.

he was over the moon, clapping, dancing, singing, hugging his teammates, just overridden with emotion. your eyes locked almost immediately, jude not being able to hide a big smile on his lips when seeing you. you waited by the rails, holding a towel and a jacket for him.

jude engulfed you into a tight and rushed hug, out of breath from running on pure adrenaline. you could feel the rapid heartbeat of his against your chest, his jersey clanging tight after running all evening. you laughed, cleaning his neck, sides, and face that glistened with sweat. "we did it baby... we did it," was all jude said as he leaned his forehead onto yours.

you held his face, kissing the bridge of his nose, "you did my love. i'm so so proud of you, look around and take it all in." jude couldn't help but dig into your neck, shoulders shaking as he let himself full relax against you. you could hear a small sniffle, jude pulling back, your thumbs catching the tears, and wiping them away from his pretty face. "i can't- i don't know how to feel. it happened so fast!" exclaimed your boyfriend in disbelief.

"what matters is that you did it, all the way to the end. you made history here tonight, keep it in here," you touched his temple, "and feel it here," placing your palm over his heart. "i love you y/n so much," he relished your love, wanting to stay here with you and never go back. he would die a happy man after this moment. "thank you for being with every time, between the good in the bad. you're the best thing that has ever happened to me, pretty girl."

neither of you could care less about the cameras, stares, or shouts from fans. this was his moment with you, and jude had just that. you held the back of his head, thumb brushing his nape, as all you could do was stare deep into each other's eyes with smiles as if you were kids at a candy store. "kiss me, kiss me y/n," pleaded your boyfriend, closing his watery eyes as you pulled him into a welcoming kiss.

lips molding as you let every sentiment of stress and anxiety from the game fly away. tasting his minty scent, as he deepened the kiss, his hand wrapped around your waist, and one holding your face, just like in the movies, except this was reality. you pulled back and kissed all over his face, jude shutting his eyes tight and crinkling his nose in bliss as you congratulated him.

"congratulations my golden boy."

I genuinely love your writing! After you posted the weak class hero 2 fic I need more. When you’re not too busy ( and please take your time, take care of yourself ) can I request what the guys small romantic gestures would be? I just need anything fluffy for the guys, especially Baekjin. You write for him so well and he needs more representation. Thank you bunches! Have a good day!

Masterlists: Weak Hero | Dramas | Kpop

Weak Hero Class 2 Boyfriends x gn! Reader, Headcanons [2.38k]

I will never cease to be amazed by the kindness of strangers. <3 Thank you so much, Anon. I hope this answer to your request meets your expectations. And as a fellow Baekjin lover, I made his part just a little longer. Enjoy!

Warnings - None.

Si-Eun

Lends you his hoodies, often making sure that he has gently worn it first so it smells like him. He also leaves notes in the pockets sometimes so you can find them later. Usually they just say something like “There’s no rush to give it back.” Or, he simply draws a little heart on a small folded up piece of paper.

Whether you’re standing or sitting together, he does it close enough to you so at least some part of you is touching. Sieun isn’t always affectionate, but he does like to have that little bit of contact with you in most settings.

If he wants to see you, he calls and just says “I miss you.” Good luck getting anything more than that out of him though lol.

He enjoys music and makes playlists for you based on either songs that he thinks you’ll like, or songs that make him think of you.

Especially if you’re tired or upset, he lets you rest your head on his shoulder. He is careful to be still and not make any movements (or say anything) that might deter you from leaning on him. He shows his support in quiet ways.

Sien has a habit of telling you “It’s okay” a lot because he never wants you to feel like you’re being too much for him or that mistakes you make hold any real weight. 

He gives you somewhat of a ‘heads up’ when his dad isn’t going to be home for longer periods of time so you feel more encouraged/comfortable visiting him. He definitely drops subtle hints that he wants you to come around.

It doesn’t matter if you’re paying attention or not. Sieun is always staring at/watching you and doesn’t get intimidated if you catch him in the act. 

This boy literally has a designated, tiny little notebook that he keeps on him at all times so he can record and take notes about things that you say. You might talk about things that you like or need, even places you want to visit. He writes it all down (but this he does in secret).

He is not above doing your homework for you if you’re exhausted or not feeling well.

♡

Baku

He is always taking pictures of you with his phone. Half the time, you don’t even know he’s doing it. His camera roll is just full of pics- ranging from you posing on dates, to candid off-guard shots where you’re partially blurry. Lol he doesn’t care, he keeps them all. And late at night when he can’t sleep, he just scrolls through them with a big cheesy grin.

Constantly showers you with compliments and tells you every day how perfect he thinks you are. It’s always something like “My baby looks so pretty today.”

Sometimes, he really plays up the drama and will pretend that he’s burning up as you walk into the room. He pulls at his collar and swipes his brow, faking being out of breath as he says “You’re just too hot. I can’t stand it.”

Baku frequently tells you that he’s proud of you and praises you for any little accomplishment.

Introduces you to his friends and people on his team because he is so proud that you’re his and he wants everyone to know.

Any time he wins some sort of award for sports, he runs straight to you to show you and let you hold onto it for him. He likes sharing his passions with you and wants you to have pride in him as well.

Because he is strong, he can literally sweep you off your feet and likes doing it to surprise you/make you laugh. 

He got you flowers once for your birthday and adored your reaction to them so much that he now just buys them for you randomly. In his mind, there doesn’t have to be an occasion to celebrate you.

Cooks chicken just for you at his dad’s restaurant. He even lets you watch him do it and jokes that “There’s nothing I’m not good at.”

Sings to you to cheer you up, often in a goofy way. But he’s actually a good singer and sometimes uses it to his advantage so he can soothe you or lull you to sleep.

♡

Hyun-Tak

He is attentive to how you’re feeling. If he senses you’re cold, he gives you his jacket. If you’re hot, he’s running to a convenience store to buy you a cold drink or is looking for something to use so you can tie your hair up. He just knows and does whatever he can to remedy situations.

Tells you he loves you at the most random times ever. You could be brushing your teeth and he just looks at you in awe and says it out of nowhere.

If you tell him you can’t hang out because you have chores or important things to do, he offers to do them with/for you. He just wants to be with you, no matter what you’re doing.

Hyuntak never shows up to meet you empty handed. He always has one of your favorite snacks on him. 

Every single day, he sends you a good morning/goodnight text. He wants to be the first and last person that you talk to and tries to check on you throughout the day too. On days that he doesn’t get to see you, he insists that you Facetime.

He’s really good at planning dates, even down to the details like weather, times, and what he thinks you should wear (likes to try to coordinate couple outfits too). He reminds you to wear sunscreen, bring a jacket, or not fill up on snacks so you can enjoy the meal he has planned.

If you’re parting ways for the day and kiss each other goodbye, he always asks for “just one more”... and another, and another until you’re giggling and swatting him away.

Hyuntak comes up with silly nicknames for you based on what you look like, how you act, etc. For example, if you have a ‘bunny’ face (see korean animal face types), he calls you something like “my little fuzzy bunny”, “baby bunny”, “bun bun”. Depending on what it is, he might only call you it in private lol.

Gives you piggy back rides whenever you want.

Makes it a point to learn about your friends and family to not just get to know you, but know them too. He wants to be involved in all aspects of your life.

♡

Jun-Tae

He refuses to let you tie your own shoelaces lol. Even if you’re already halfway crouched, he’s pulling you back up and getting on a knee before you can protest.

Goes out of his way to smooth down your hair or pick lint off of your clothes. He notices all of the small details.

You already know, Juntae is all about buying vitamins and things of that nature for you. He knows so much about ways to maintain health and just wants to take care of you! Of course, this also means that he is the best caretaker when you are sick or injured.

Consent KING!! He always asks before making any sort of move on you. “Can I kiss you? Can we hold hands? Do you want a hug?” His ultimate goal is for you to be comfortable around him.

Loves to hold your hand and kiss the back of it while your fingers are still interlocked.

Lets you borrow absolutely anything of his; whether it be a manga, a shirt, money, gum, etc. Half the time, he probably tells you to just keep it cause he thinks that his job is to help provide anything and everything you need as long as he is able.

Shares his favorite book/movie/show characters with you and gives you recommendations for media that he thinks you would enjoy. To him, it’s important that both of you talk about and exchange things that you’re passionate about.

This would definitely happen in more of a private place; he might be too shy to do it in front of anyone else. But Juntae gives the best head scratches and back scratches. Something about his light, gentle touch brings you so much comfort. And he can do it for hours, not stopping even if you totally fall asleep. 

Lets you pick off of his plate or he takes some of his food and puts it onto yours, especially if he wants you to have more of a certain food that you like to eat. 

Is the type to use his hand to prevent you from bumping your head on hard surfaces. Also is a chivalrous king and opens/holds doors for you.

♡

Seong-Je

Sometimes, if he’s in a particularly good mood, he lets you win the online game you’re playing with him.

Lowkey fucks with you, teasing you by tapping one shoulder to make you look behind it- only for you to see that he’s not there and he is instead smirking behind the other shoulder.

He doesn’t give them often, and definitely not in front of anyone else. But Seongje does give you forehead kisses. Typically they’re pretty quick, almost as if he’s embarrassed. But sometimes he just can’t help himself.

He makes you install an app on your phone so he can always see what your location is. He doesn’t like feeling like he’s tethered on a leash, so he probably wouldn’t allow you to ask the same of him. Although, he does regularly give you the courtesy of verbally letting you know where he is going to be because he wants you to be able to find him if you need him. 

He sometimes puts his glasses on you just to tease you about how funny and cute you look in them. He mayyy or may not also take a picture of you like that and use it for your contact photo in his phone (don’t tell him I told you that).

Shockingly, he is pretty good at remembering things you tell him. It’s not all the time that he’s actually doing anything with the information he retains, but he does surprise you by recalling details you hadn’t expected him to care about.

If you feel unsafe for any reason and want him to stay with you, he will. He’ll stay the whole night if that’s what you want. He has a certain pride in being someone that you look to for protection.

He looks out for you by telling you things like “Don’t stay up too late”, “Don’t skip dinner”, or “Go straight home.” 

He absolutely will complain about you asking him to carry your backpack, phone, etc. But in the same breath he’s also saying, “Just give it to me.”

Is open about how much money he makes from all of his ‘jobs’ and tells you to let him know if there’s anything that you want him to buy for you. He doesn’t mind getting stuff for you here and there.

♡

Baek-Jin

He’s a busy guy, to say the least. So as much as he tries to nourish your relationship with real dates, sometimes he has to spend time with you during the more mundane parts of his life. That means he invites you to study, or even just spend the night with him so he can have eight uninterrupted hours with you somehow.

Tells you things when you’re asleep that he feels unable to say when you’re awake. It’s just easier for him to express himself in a way that isn’t as vulnerable. “You have no idea what you mean to me” or “I hope that on the other side of this, you will still be with me.”

It’s a very cute gesture that he would only ever do for you, but he makes pinky promises. And one thing is for sure: he never breaks a pinky promise he has with you. Usually, he promises something simple like going on at least one date a week. But sometimes, it’s more serious and he swears that he won’t get hurt or something of that nature.

Baekjin is also always 100% honest with you. He sees no reason not to be fully transparent unless it is to protect you from something that you don’t need to know about. But he is loyal, faithful, and focused on doing what he is able to do in order to keep you happy.

He does his best to give you his undivided attention, but sometimes you do have to ask for it. Since he has so much going on, it might take a simple “Baekjin, I need you right now” before he is pushing everything aside and prioritizing your wellbeing.

When he can’t keep an eye on you himself, he has some of his men do it and report back to him. But they are under strict orders not to disturb you or let you know that you’re being watched.

He personally escorts you home as often as he can. Additionally, he is very protective and walks on the sidewalk closest to the street, always with a hand on the small of your back.

He gives hugs where one arm is wrapped around your waist and his other hand reaches up to cradle the back of your head. Depending on the day, his hugs are longer lasting. As for kisses, he lightly grabs your chin and looks into your eyes for a moment before connecting his lips with yours.

More common than his hugs and kisses, he likes to pet your head or run his hand down your back, your arm, etc. It’s a simpler form of affection that is easier for him to give, but it still says a lot.

He tells you often that he wishes for you to live as normal of a life as possible. You may have chosen him as your partner, which comes with its own unique set of challenges purely because of the business he's involved with. But he stresses that you should still have your own aspirations and healthy things that you want to do with your life.

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

illusion [ethan landry x reader]

requests for ethan are open!

pre - ghostface / no ghostface alternate! no spoilers for scream 6!

pairing: ethan landry x gender neutral reader

notes: enemies/academic rivals to lovers trope <3__<3, not proofread, this is almost 10k words,,

"Pop quiz."

The key words that sent the classroom of college students into despair as soon as they left the professor's mouth. The unpreparedness of the young adults was gauged by the groans and soft curses that followed the announcement before quiet fell upon the classroom, only the sounds of keys clacking and frustrated pens tapping heard against the silence. You were ready despite the surprise, having taken detailed notes and studied over them without the knowledge or pressure of a quiz.

The inability to change their fates led to complaints mumbled all around you. You listened intently to the grievances, realizing that the only ones who remained quiet in the sea of traveling whispers were you and the antagonist of your life - Ethan Landry.

There was an unspoken competition between you and Ethan that neither of you verbally acknowledged but were both acutely aware of. It was a race to see who scored better most often, carefully kept up with by your classmate. You were vaguely aware of the lack of supporters on your side, the overwhelming majority rooting for Ethan. The way Ethan rallied people effortlessly while you sat in silence each class fueled your anger, each whisper and laugh from behind you making your heart thump.

Usually, you were on par with Ethan despite your lack of fans, but math was always a tough subject; a few simple mistakes have led to your downfall. You devoted hours to secure your place as a top performer - time and effort you were positive Ethan didn't match. His smiles were too easy, body too relaxed throughout each grade returned. Ethan was overconfident and you wished for nothing more than for his arrogance to bite him in the ass one day.

You didn't allow yourself to view your score after you submitted your quiz, moving out of the tab without a peek. Your desire to find out Ethan's score before yours became a routine of staying in your seat until the whispers behind you revealed what you wanted to know. Knowing Ethan's score first intensified either the satisfaction or disappointment you would feel upon viewing your own score. Pretty soon, beating Ethan had become your biggest motivation. You measured your value through these constant comparisons, for you were worthless when you stood on your own.

A storm of whispers began once someone peeked at Ethan's screen. It didn't take long for the voices to move toward your area from its origin in the row behind you, hushed voices repeating the words "failed" and "30." You rolled the information over in your hear; if Ethan had scored 30 points, he didn't do that poorly, but a 30%? He had to be upset over a 30/35; there wasn't a chance that Ethan Landry could've made a 30%. The absurdity made you shake your head and smile. The whispers stopped suddenly as a laptop shut with too much force and shuffling sounds followed. You turned your head slightly to see Ethan walk out of the room, unable to figure him out.

By the time you gathered your things and stepped out into the empty hallway, Ethan was long gone.

「 ... 」

The next time you were forced into the same room as Ethan Landry was Thursday. Class ended but you were stuck to your seat, copious notes filling the pages of your notebook. They were not neat; those would be created in the library while the information was fresh. You picked up after yourself quickly; students flocked to the library in waves at this hour.

-

Ethan waited until class was officially over before moving out of his seat, feet feeling unusually heavy in his slow strides toward you. It didn't take him long to reach you, considering he was seated behind you, but he delayed reaching his destination as much as he could. He stood a few feet away from where you were, quickly shoving your things into your bag. He thought you'd be more organized.

As Ethan stood in your vicinity, he had shamelessly assumed you'd notice him without him having to utter a word to you.

Ethan's opinion of you changed drastically during the class; in the beginning, Ethan Landry thought you were gorgeous.

It wasn't long before Ethan realized you were a hard worker too and he wondered how someone could be so perfect. But you were everything he wasn't and Ethan Landry was not good at romance so he gave up on the insane idea of ever speaking to you.

His biggest mistake was sitting so close to you, his nerves controlling him for the better part of those first few weeks. This nervousness when it came to anything related to you was obvious when his face dropped the second he glanced at you or accidentally made eye contact; it was obvious when he would quickly turn his head away whenever you came near. You'd never spoken to him and he'd rather keep it that way - Ethan didn't know what horrific things would leave his mouth in your presence.

These developments only fueled your dislike for Ethan. All you could find yourself doing was complaining about Ethan with more frequency to the point your best friend was tired of you, this close to making an Ethan Jar where you'd put money in any time you talked about him.

Ethan wasn't sure when his feelings toward you changed - perhaps it was the intimidating aura that surrounded you, which quickly crushed any fantasy he had of acquainting himself with you. The fear that you were an awful person overtook everything else and was supported by your refusal to help the classmates around you that were clearly struggling in the class, the uninterested and cold looks you gave out burned into the back of his brain. Despite his hesitancy to accept it, Ethan was starting to believe that you had some sort of superiority complex over everyone else.

Yet here he was, about to find out how accurate his suspicions were as he begged for your help.

You didn't acknowledge Ethan as you continued packing up your things. Giving you the benefit of the doubt, Ethan called out your name.

You didn't answer.

Were you seriously ignoring him?

Ethan was growing annoyed now, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to understand your behavior. How could a person be so rude?

"Holy shit!" Your voice rang loud in the empty classroom and Ethan jumped at the sound. You mirrored the action, hand on your chest in shock. You hadn't realized he was there.

You took your earbuds out and watched curiously as a bright red flush passed over Ethan's face.

Oh.

"Did you... need something?" You tried to keep your distaste for Ethan out of your voice, confusion and curiosity keeping you from walking away.

"Yeah... I mean, no," Ethan's confidence faltered from his mistake and he suddenly remembered how beginning-of-the-year Ethan would've never dared to do this.

"O...kay?" You were starting to get weirded out now, your contempt for the boy in front of you becoming more apparent by the second. You moved past him, sighing in irritation as you tapped your phone screen for the time; the library would be booked by now.

You began the route to the library regardless, knowing you wouldn't get any work done in the cramped space you shared with your messy roommate.

You hadn't realized or, more accurately, didn't want to assume Ethan was following you until you had been walking for a while and the heavier thud of a pair of footsteps didn't fade or falter. You stopped and turned around, even more annoyed now.

"What?" You demanded expectedly.

Ethan bit back his pride and irritation. "I do. Actually need something."

You couldn't help the roll of your eyes and the tone of your voice. "I asked you - "

"Yeah, I know," Ethan snapped back.

Kittens. Puppies. Rainbows. You took a deep breath, calming the bubbling exasperation in your throat.

"What is it that you need, Ethan?"

A jolt ran through Ethan and struck him speechless as he realized that was the first time he'd ever heard his name leave your mouth. It was -

"Seriously?" Your arms were crossed, unimpressed and frustrated. Every second that you wasted entertaining Ethan was another seat lost in the library.

"I failed the pop quiz. Like... failed," Ethan confessed without a bite in his voice, causing your arms to drop to your sides in surprise.

"Oh," you said softly, suddenly feeling guilty that your nonverbal wish for his failure had come true.

"I didn't really understand the lesson, I guess," Ethan closed his eyes, attempting to swallow his pride for just another second. "So, can you help me? I know you're the only one who actually passed."

You briefly wondered how Ethan knew, considering no one was interested in peeking at your score like they were with Ethan and you'd made quick work of closing out of your score the second you received it.  

You didn't answer for a moment, debating on what you should do. You could laugh in his face and walk away. You could.

But you didn't.

"Come on," you turned back around as you replied, continuing the route you had been interrupted from following. "The library's probably packed."

「 ... 」

The severity of your situation over weighed the feeling of satisfaction that came with being right as you entered the overcrowded library, your favorite seat taken. You sighed as you scanned the library for a place you and Ethan could sit. The universe seemed to laugh at you when you realized the only available spot you'd both fit in was the tiniest couch in the room.

You grabbed Ethan's arm and dragged him over to the spot, trying to keep the flush on your face down as you took a seat, squeezing into the edge of the couch as much as you could. You were expressionless as Ethan took a hesitant seat next to you, tension in the air as the two of you tried to create as much space between the two of you as possible. It was counterproductive, considering each attempt brought you two uncomfortably closer. You finally cleared your throat, reaching for your bag and taking out your notes. You refrained from sighing as you flipped past your most recent ones - they would have to wait.

"So," your voice was low despite the secluded area you found yourselves in, landing on the lessons the pop quiz had focused on. The pages of orderly and precise notes surprised Ethan; you put more effort into those notes than Ethan had into anything. "Where do you wanna start?"

「 ... 」

The library was closing soon and the two of you gathered your things. You walked in front of Ethan, unsure of where he was going; but you didn't walk fast enough for him not to be able to catch up.

Ethan had no idea where you were going but you didn't stop him from walking with you, a sign he took as good.

The study session had gone well, but it frustrated him how well you taught him the material. When he didn't quite grasp something you switched it up and explained it differently until he did, recognizing his learning patterns and using them to try to help him as much as possible. He thought you'd be a pain in the ass about the whole thing and brag about how well you'd done compared to him. He expected you to beat you down while he was low but you remained civil, even showed him kindness and Ethan was slowly starting to think that maybe he didn't really know you.

Though something about your behavior bothered him. It wasn't like you were terrible at teaching difficult concepts to others. Of course, you didn't owe anyone anything, but wasn't it the polite thing to do? He'd always heard complaints from his classmates that you were unhelpful and the difference in the way you treated people fired something up in Ethan.

Ethan simply couldn't understand you and those unresolved feelings got him angry all over again.

He stopped walking just as you began wondering how long he'd trail you in silence for. You stopped too, turning to give him a curious glance.

“Why are you so mean?” He asked suddenly, brows furrowed in anger and confusion.

“Excuse me?” You scoffed, clearly offended. You'd just spent hours of your own time helping Ethan and he called you mean?

“To everyone else,” Ethan clarified. “Why don't you help people when they need? Do you think you're better than them or something? You ignore anyone who makes below an A?”

“Are you fucking joking?” You were as angry as Ethan was now, taking a heated step in his direction. “If you thought I was such an asshole, why'd you ask me for help?” You questioned rhetorically, interrupting Ethan as you saw him open his mouth. You felt abnormally hot, anger the only thing fueling you now. It was suddenly clear now and you could hear your heart pound in anger at Ethan's accusations. Like it was your fault no one approached you.

“Well, I’m sorry I don't insert myself when it's not my business. I can't read people's minds. Do you think anyone actually...” You took a breath as your voice shook with frustration. “No one fucking talks to me.” It was the sad truth of your situation; your classmates ignored you so you ignored them. You weren't one to strike up awkward conversations just for the sake of it.

Ethan’s anger melted away as his composure fell, just slightly. Regret washed over him as he realized, too late again, his mistake.

You wanted to say something else, to prove to him that it didn't bother you, but your embarrassment mixed with your anger in the worst way as you felt tears begin to sting your eyes. Don't cry in front of him, please, fuck.

You turned around swiftly, deciding it was better to get back to your dorm than continue making a fool of yourself. By the end of the night, you were only sure of one thing; you absolutely hated Ethan Landry.

「 ... 」

You hadn't expected Ethan to come up to you again, praying the embarrassment of his misjudgments would keep him away from you. You were right for a week or two, classes passing by with no contact with Ethan Landry except for accidental eye contact that flustered you both.

To think you had been beginning to warm up to him while studying. Maybe he wasn't so bad, you had been close to admitting defeat. You scoffed at that thought now. The only thing you hated more than arrogant people were people who couldn't form opinions on their own. Ethan had told you all you needed to know with the simple accusations he threw your way.

However, Ethan didn't stay away for long. The scene gave you deja vu; you were packing up your stuff when a figure approached and something in you knew it was Ethan. It was eerie how quiet he could be compared to how boisterous he usually was in class.

You ignored Ethan's quiet advances towards you on purpose this time, gathering your materials in a hurry. You moved too quickly, your notebook dropping and loose papers scattering all over the floor. Ethan dropped to the floor before you could protest, picking up the sheets. By the time you crouched down he had collected them all, neatly shaking them into a pile. Ethan tried for a smile as he handed the stack to you.

"Thanks," you muttered, collecting your things off the ground. Despite it all, you remained polite. The both of you stared at each other and you slung your bag onto your shoulder, its heaviness creating an ache where it rested. You two stood there a moment just like you had all those weeks ago, though this time there was a thick tension in the air, both of you unsure of what the other would say next.

"Could we..." Ethan gulped, nervousness evident in the way he tapped his shoulders nervously against the strap of his bag. "Could we talk? We could get something to eat, or a coffee, or just... talk?"

Your expression didn't falter from the cold stare you gave him, outwardly unresponsive to his words as you internally thought it over.

“You know, I'd really prefer it if we didn't," you responded coolly. "You're welcome never to speak to me again, though?" You made a move to continue forward and Ethan instinctively stepped closer.

“I'm sorry.” Ethan tried desperately, shoulders slumping and eyes pleading.

Maybe he did mean it, but you didn't want to accept it.You weren't sure what it mattered to him so much. He could've pretended you were the person he thought you were and moved on. After all, you'd barely given him, weren't giving him, any reason to believe otherwise.

“Sure.” You pushed past him. It was immature and you knew it, but you didn't stop yourself from doing it anyway.

Although there was something that bothered you about Ethan Landry, something different than before. You couldn't quite place your finger on what it was about him despite you rolling over all your conversations and interactions.

That conversation played over and over in your head. You could see it clearly every time; the way anger flayed Ethan's features and created cruel words to fall out of his mouth. The way the anger in you pooled and you did the same.

You remembered the way Ethan was consumed with regret. You only saw a portion of it, you were sure. A part of you knew it ran deeper than you'd ever be able to see and maybe even understand.

After another afternoon of thinking it over, you laid in bed and picked over each detail once again. There was a problem here, one that was hiding its solution from you. There was a missing piece, you were sure, a fatal flaw with the equation that kept you up all night. You sat up suddenly, as the awful realization hit you. You realized, with urgency, that you might've just become the world's biggest hypocrite.

「 ... 」

Ethan hadn't realized that his opinion of you was capable of changing. He maybe, definitely shouldn't have thought so little of you before he even spoke to you. He rolled over in bed each night, your voice echoing in his head. The hurt in your eyes, your guarded body language. Ethan had to do something.

He didn't need you to accept your apology. He didn't crave forgiveness. He just needed to know you. That had been the root of all his issues with you. He'd believed things without ever actually seeing them for himself, picking and choosing what supported his assumptions. Ethan never had the full story and that had been his biggest mistake.

Ethan spent the next few days with nothing but you on his mind, spending hours deciding on a course of action. He wasn't sure how you'd react given your last interaction. You had remained calm and composed but he knew you didn't like him. He didn't like him. Your response was entirely justified and Ethan knew, whatever the outcome was, he would accept it. If you truly never wanted to speak to him again, he would stay as far away from you as he could manage.

Ethan waited for you after class, relief washing over as he spotted you in the large crowd that had formed. He started walking backwards in front of you, forcing you to keep your attention on him.

"Before you tell me to go away," Ethan began, making sure your earbuds weren't in. You stopped walking suddenly and his heart dropped - but you reached out to grab him.

"Watch where you're going," you muttered, but there was no heat to it, motioning back to the person Ethan had almost bumped in to.

"Thanks." Ethan grinned at you, his excitement almost overflowing out of him.

"Do you have a second?" Ethan asked cautiously, glancing at your expression.

"You're already talking." You put your hands on your hips, a tiredness suddenly becoming evident as your face and shoulders fell.

Ethan had a sudden urge to reach out and comfort you, though he refrained.

"I came up with a really great idea. I promise it's a win-win," Ethan stopped to check your face, unrelenting eyes staring back at him.

"We hang out - " Ethan began and you rolled your eyes. "Three times. Just three. I get to know you. You get to bask in the fact that I'm wrong and you're right and call me an idiot?" Ethan's plan came out more like a question than a statement, his confidence dropping with your unimpressed demeanor.

"Why?" You asked suddenly and genuinely, unable to understand why Ethan Landry, out of all people, wanted to admit he was wrong.

"I..." Ethan held his bottom lip between his teeth nervously, rocking on his feet as he continued. "You're not the person I thought you were." He confessed honestly, hoping that his eyes revealed the truth.

You weren't sure why you agreed. It was a completely stupid idea. Maybe the loneliness of your limited social circle was catching up to you, or the weary glances everyone threw your way were beginning to sting. Perhaps if you realized Ethan was really as bad as you thought, you wouldn't have to feel so guilty about your hypocritical speculation. Maybe it was that part of you that wanted to change, to break the cycle of unrealistic comparisons and the high bar you held yourself to. Maybe if you came to the grand realization that you could be wrong sometimes, you could become just a little bit happier with yourself.

「 ... 」

Ethan, unsurprisingly, texted you first. You assumed he'd only use it to create plans, but his name popped up on your screen with increasing frequency.

you

this wasnt part of the deal.

ethan

we never set any rules about texting...

:|>

you

wtf is that supposed to be?

ethan

... im sticking my tongue out at you?

you

?????

You shook your head at the strangest emoticon you'd seen, your screen slowly fading to black after you sent your reply. In your phone's reflection, you caught yourself smiling.

「 ... 」

Ethan wasted no time in creating plants, asking you if you were free that weekend. You were, and he thought it was "cool." You stared longer at the text than you should've, a little curious as to what he would plan.

Ethan caught up with you after class, graduating from sending friendly smiles and small waves to you from across the room. He fell into step with you, matching your shorter strides.

"I was thinking about what to do this weekend," Ethan began casually, as if the two of you hanging out was the most normal thing in the world. "How about the movies?" Ethan asked with a bright smile.

You laughed, a little taken aback as you saw Ethan's expression.

“No way.” You responded.

“What? Why?” Ethan's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Are you kidding? You seriously don't know?” You asked in a bit of disbelief.

Ethan shook his head and you almost felt sorry that he was so clueless.

“When a guy asks someone to the movies, he usually wants to... you know...”

You watched as the realization hit Ethan, his eyes widening and his face reddening.

“Ohmygod, I didn't mean - “

Then you laughed. You truly, genuinely laughed at Ethan's expression and perhaps a bit at his expense. Despite this, Ethan's face transformed into a small smile and he let out a little laugh along with you.

“Ok, bad idea. We can watch a movie at my dorm?"

You gave Ethan a look, a light smile still lingering on your face. “Ethan. that's even worse.”

“Shit, sorry, let's just scrap the movie. Wanna get lunch?”

「 ... 」

The weekend came quickly and you found yourself looking forward to hanging out with Ethan. His texts were no longer getting on your nerves and you found yourself replying almost instantly each time, no matter what you were in the middle of doing.

Ethan waited outside your dorm building for you. He didn't have to but he did anyway, eyes lighting up as soon as he saw you.

"Lead the way." You smiled gently and despite his nod, Ethan walked next to you. He began talking, nervously at first, then you joined in here and there and eventually the two of you walked in comfortable conversation. It wasn't long before you reached your destination, a simple campus cafe with mediocre food but didn't require traveling out to the city.

The two of you walked up to the counter, ordering the best things the menu had to offer despite its limited options. Ethan went first, opting for a sandwich and a lemonade. He paid and moved out of the way for you. Once you confirmed your separate order with the worker, Ethan's hand hurried to try to tap his card against the screen. You looked at him quizzically as you placed a firm hand on his, trapping it against the counter. "What are you doing?" You seemed to ask him and he moved his hand away apologetically, neither of you wanting to argue. You paid for your meal - you would not be indebted to Ethan Landry.

The two of you sat near one of the giant windows that doubled as a wall for the cafe, allowing you to peer out and watch students walk by. You and Ethan sat across from each other and the silence that swallowed the two of you was awkward, a complete 180 from the easy-flowing conversation from earlier.

Ethan's eyes flickered from you to the window and back, fingers tapping nervously on the table. Although you couldn't see it directly, you knew his leg was bouncing from under the table, a habit you had picked up on.

It was up to you to start talking. You forced your eyes back to Ethan, offering him a resigning smile. Your eyes landed on his as your mouth opened to speak, but your words failed. The sun was shining just the right way on Ethan, rays of warm light creating a curious glint in his eyes. You'd thought they were a basic brown before but realized the depth of them now, the sun exposing the warmth in them. Ethan raised a hand to shield his eyes from the harsh light, eyes crinkling and nose scrunching. The sudden realization that Ethan was beautiful hit you suddenly and with urgency as if it were a revolutionary breakthrough you had to proclaim.

You cleared your throat and your mind and Ethan's hand dropped, moving to support his chin as he moved his focus from the sun to you.

"So, you like Star Wars?" You asked rather softly, wondering where to place the thought that had suddenly intruded your brain.

Ethan's eyes widened and he straightened. "How'd you know?"

You motioned downwards toward Ethan's Star Wars wallet, still resting on the table. Ethan's face visibly fired up as he grabbed his wallet and stuffed it into his pocket.

"Are you... a fan?" Ethan asked weakly.

"No way. I mean, the movies are so long and they get so boring. The entire thing is so confusing - I mean, no offense..." You trailed off, realizing that if Ethan owned a Star Wars wallet, Ethan probably really liked Star Wars.

And clearly, Ethan had taken offense.

"Well, first of all, the movies are not long and boring. The story itself is so intricate you have to pay close attention - but it's actually good. Plus, the first movie was super revolutionary and completely ahead of its time - "

You stifled a giggle as Ethan avidly attempted to defend his favorite franchise, hands flailing as he emphasized his points. You had never seen him so passionate.

"Hey, this is a very serious debate," Ethan said, although there was a widening smile on his face.

"No, no, you're right. Please keep going," you encouraged and Ethan rolled his eyes with a smile.

"What is your biggest issue with the franchise?"

"Hmmm..." You placed your hand on your chin, deep in thought. "I always fall asleep while trying to watch the movies."

Ethan leaned back with a sigh. "That is literally a you problem."

You laughed again, shaking your head. "No way. It's not my fault the movies are so boring I fall asleep."

"It totally is!" Ethan's eyebrows moved with the fluctuations of his voice, hands exasperatedly pointed at you while you continued laughing.

“I can't back down from this one. You're gonna have to admit you're wrong this time."

"Hey, I never said I was right," you countered. "I just told you what I thought."

"Well, you seem like you always want to be right. Are you?" Ethan's tone was gentle and curious, not condescending like you expected, seemingly wanting to know more.

Your shoulders rose in a small shrug as you thought the question over.

"I do want to be... it does feel nice," you answered decisively. "But I don't have to be. Sometimes you have to sacrifice it to keep the peace, you know?" That was a lesson you'd learned the hard way, the loud mouth you had during your childhood slowly giving way to a calmer, harder disposition.

"Yeah," Ethan said softly. "I get that." And something in his voice told you he really did.

「 ... 」

It wasn't long until Ethan became your personal Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, appearing with increasing frequency seemingly out of nowhere. You were greeted by the sight of him on your way to classes you didn't share, Ethan engaging in conversation with you until he was forced to let you go. You weren't aware that most of Ethan's classes were on the opposite side of campus - if he even had them at all.

Ethan's habit of walking you to class mixed with his recurring texts, his name popping up at the top of your screen multiple times a day.

Ethan had become an integral part of your routine. His texts would come in as soon as your classes ended, inquiring about how they went. The two of you would text until one of you wiped out (usually Ethan and usually before 10 p.m.).

You hung around until you spotted Ethan, hard to miss with his curly hair and his tall stature. The overcast day presaged the cold winter months that would soon reach their peak. You watched as his eyes scanned for you, face breaking out into a smile as soon as he spotted you. Your expression mirrored his as the two of you weaved between the bodies making up a small crowd until finally, you stood in front of each other.

"Hey," you greeted, lips stretching into an even wider smile.

"Hey." Ethan's teeth made an appearance as he rocked back and forth. Nervous habit. He had something to say, you could tell. However, you weren't going to force it out of him.

Even in the gray wash of light Ethan was radiant. He brought a warmth that took off the bite of the cold New York air.

The two of you began talking about anything, beginning the journey to your first class of the morning. Ethan's shoulders bumped yours as you walked, quickly approaching your destination.

Ethan took a breath as the two of you stopped just outside your classroom, turning his body to face you finally.

"So, I was thinking," Ethan started, carefully watching the changes in your expression.

"Woah, that's new," you teased as Ethan sighed cordially.

"Okay, now I don't feel bad for what I'm about to say," Ethan continued and your heart stammered anxiously. "Our next official hangout is watching Star Wars."

You groaned.

"Before you say anything, please keep in mind - I don't care." Ethan said proudly, watching as your expression contorting into one of displeasure while your shoulders sagged.

"You're the worst," you started, but Ethan just smiled, nodding for you to go on. "And I could totally overrule you. I can literally block you and never speak to you again."

Ethan's eyes widened and his mouth opened to say something. Did you take it too far?

"I'm kidding," you said quickly before embarrassment could stop you. "I will... give Star Wars another chance."

You turned away from Ethan in an attempt to hide the prominent flush on your cheeks, missing the way his cheeks lit up to match yours.

"Wait!" Ethan called before you could enter your class, which you were almost going to be late to. "Where are we gonna watch it?"

You turned around once again, giving him a curious glance as his face turned a bright red.

"You know... because of what you said last time?"

You stared at him for a second before you finally laughed, comprehending what he was referencing.

"Ethan, we can watch it at your dorm, it's fine. I trust you. I mean, as long as you don't mind?"

Ethan visibly gulped, his heart acting so wildly his chest was starting to hurt.

"No. No, I don't mind."

"Okay," you placed your hand on the door of your classroom, sending Ethan one last smile. "Text me," you said, as if he wouldn't have regardless.

「 ... 」

Ethan warned you that his shared dorm was small, but you didn't mind. Nothing could be as bad as yours.

Ethan's room was much more spacious than yours, considering he resided in a different building notoriously known for its larger spaces. Ethan and his roommate had a bathroom and a washer/dryer set right in their dorms along with a kitchen! To say you were jealous was an understatement - communal kitchens were your walking nightmare.

There was a lack of living room space, forcing you and Ethan to share his bed. He took a seat against the wall with his laptop and a variety of snacks respectfully placed between the two of you, creating a barrier you almost caught yourself wishing wasn't there. Ethan's roommate was the only thing missing from the picture, but you weren't curious enough to inquire; Ethan didn't mention him and you didn't weren't interested enough to care.

Ethan at least gave you the choice of starting the series with the first movie release-date wise or the first movie in the Star Wars time line. You didn't really know what that meant, so you chose what would hopefully be the less confusing one for you to grasp. You wondered, for a moment, if Ethan thought about watching the entire franchise with you. You wondered if you'd let him.

You took the time Ethan spent on loading up The Phantom Menace to look around his room, the distinction between his side and his roommate's made evident by Ethan's posters. They ranged from video games to movie posters and what you assumed were his favorite artists. You examined them carefully, trying to memorize each one. They seemed special, like a part of Ethan that you didn't know just yet.

Ethan tapped your shoulder softly, motioning towards his laptop screen, indicating the movie was ready to start. Ethan's smile was one of the most genuine you'd seen to date, parted lips showing off the perfect teeth that made you suspicious when he swore he'd never had braces. Some people are just born perfect.

No, you chided yourself, he's smiling this hard over Star Wars.

You laughed at your own thoughts. "You're such a nerd."

Ethan's smile faltered and panic took over your system. "I didn't mean - It's not bad -" You sighed in an attempt to compose yourself.

"It's cute." You stated finally, decisively, and Ethan's smile returned. He didn't say anything, which you were thankful for, instead pressing play on the movie. You could only hope the opening scene muffled the sound of your heart racing.

Star Wars wasn't as boring as you remembered, though you weren't sure how much of your excitement you could contribute to the actual movie when Ethan would make small comments every-so-often that would make you smile. Whether they were jokes, criticisms, or history about the scene, each one left you craving the sound of Ethan's voice, low and steady, in your ear again.

You weren't sure how you ended up so close to Ethan but everything about the scene was lulling you to sleep: the scent of fresh laundry mixing with a scent on Ethan's skin you couldn't quite place. the warmth he radiated against the creeping cold of the night, his smooth voice whispering stupid pieces of information in your ear, especially the lullaby of a movie in the background.

You drifted off at some unknown time despite your efforts to fight the heavy weight of sleep. You'd really tried to stay up to watch the movie in its entirety, to give it and Ethan's opinion of it a fighting chance, but your body wouldn't have it. Your head fell, finding a place on Ethan's shoulder rather uncomfortably considering his long torso. Ethan panicked for a moment once he realized the sudden weight on his shoulder was you, fast and peacefully asleep on him. It took him a few seconds to react as he sat there starting before he slumped down slowly, carefully guiding your head, trying to prevent you from straining your neck.

From what he could recall, there were about thirty minutes left of the movie. It was one of his favorite parts yet all Ethan could do was focus on your soft breaths and the way his heart pounded, hoping the loud thumping wouldn't wake you up.

The movie ended and Ethan's laptop joined you in sleep, leaving him stranded in the dark. He made no motion to move, however, choosing the ache that was starting to form in his back over disrupting your sleep. It was the most peaceful he'd ever seen you, so different from the witty comments you sent his way now that you two were... friends? 

Ethan wasn't sure what it was and he didn't want to think about it, considering it only came to be out of a stupid agreement. One that was almost up; only one more chance to be with you before the two of you either continued whatever you had going on or went your separate ways. For someone who strongly disliked you just a few weeks ago, Ethan suddenly had a hard time getting behind the idea of never speaking to you again. Never being close to you like this again.

Ethan sprang out of his thoughts as the door opened as loudly as it could've possibly sounded, breaking the soft silence that had encompassed the two of you. Chad's loud voice boomed throughout the small room - as if the door hadn't properly announced his arrival.

The sound woke you up and the presence of someone else jolted you away from Ethan as if you got caught doing something you shouldn't. Ethan's back was the only part of him that felt relieved, already missing the distinct scent of you.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't realize you had someone over," Chad said with a small laugh and Ethan tried his best not to be annoyed.

"I don't - It's not like that," Ethan insisted with a blush on his face as he shut his laptop.

"Yeah, sure," Chad sent you a wink and a small, awkward laugh escaped you. "I'm Chad."

You introduced yourself with a smile and Ethan couldn't help but glance between the two of you. Of course Chad had to be wearing one of his tightest shirts, one of the ones that showed off his array of bulging muscles. Ethan wondered if you preferred guys like him, a sudden urge to know your type bursting within him.

You checked your phone, a yawn interrupting you as you checked the time. "I should probably get back," you said to no one in particular, though your eyes were glancing at Ethan with a hopeful glance in your eyes.

"I'll walk you?" Ethan suggested, moving to get up off his bed.

You smiled and nodded and Ethan was relieved he'd finally gotten you right.

「 ... 」

"Sorry I fell asleep." You said sincerely on the walk back.

"Pfft. It's fine. You technically warned me."

"I promise I'll make it up to you."

"As long as it doesn't count towards our three hangouts." Ethan said it with a smile, yet it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"It'll be Hangout 2.5," you promised with a smile, though the thought of the end of your agreement with Ethan had been terrorizing you as much as it had him.

You were approaching your dorm now, the walk going by quicker than it would've without Ethan by your side; you suddenly wished you'd gotten assigned the furthest building from Ethan's.

"So, what'd you think of... Chad?" Ethan's words were slow yet sudden and in a tone you'd never heard him use before.

"Chad?" You asked, the information taking a moment before you realized you'd just met Chad less than 15 minutes ago. "Chad," you repeated, the name sounding strange on your tongue. "I think his name doesn't really suit him. He kind of looks like a James or something."

Ethan laughed, shaking his head at your comment.

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason."

You had a sneaking suspicion Ethan was lying, but lacked any solid evidence to back it up. Though his voice... it was different. Ethan either had a crush on you or had a crush on Chad. You could've believed the latter if Ethan spoke of his roommate more often and more fondly.

That only left one option: Ethan Landry had a crush on you.

It was a reach, you were sure. All the evidence against Ethan could be easily dismissed as him trying to get to know you, which he was. You shook the thought out of your head. There was no way he liked you.

But what if he did?

The two of you were stopped by your door now, Ethan waiting for your final comment of the night before making his way back. He looked at you with big eyes and a shy smile and you had the sudden urge to kiss him.

So you did.

Your lips made contact with Ethan's cheek, slowly and softly, inch by inch. You barely pressed your lips against his skin but you felt the effects immediately, face so warm it radiated. You pulled back and admired Ethan's embarrassed and partially confused smile.

"Thanks for walking me."

Ethan stood there, speechless, and you offered a final wave before opening the door and disappearing behind it.

Ethan stood there, speechless, as he processed what had just happened, if it was just a figment of his imagination.

He stayed there, speechless, as seconds ticked into minutes, confirming that yes, you had just kissed him goodnight.

Ethan's hand was glued to the spot on his cheek where your lips made contact with his cheek, fingertips ghosting over it in an attempt to replicate the feeling.

It was official. His grave was dug. Ethan Landry was totally fucked.

「 ... 」

You'd pretended like nothing had happened, unsure of how to deal with the consequences of your actions. There seemed to be no change in the nature of your relationship with Ethan and you weren't sure if you were grateful or not.

The next (and final) time Ethan invited you to hang out was his riskiest idea yet. He wanted you to travel into the city with him, something you'd always been too busy to do on your own. It was something you'd mentioned to him once or twice and you wondered if he only came up with the idea because of you.

Ethan was a self-proclaimed expert on the area immediately surrounding Blackmore's campus, challenging you to notify him of any cravings you had throughout the day, promising to fulfill your every wish.

He'd asked you to meet you at one of the local campus spots, a coffee shop to start off your adventure. Ethan was shocked when he learned you'd never visited it, insisting it was the best in the area despite its inconvenient location. You rolled your eyes but took his word for it.

You arrived at your destination early, basking in the warmth the small shop provided, sheltering you from the cold air outside. Perhaps it would be the perfect excuse to walk a little too close to Ethan today.

8:49 became 9:03 yet there was no sign of Ethan. It was strange, considering you two agreed on nine on the dot and Ethan was never late. Not when it came to you.

You tried to calm the beat of your heart with scrolling but the distraction didn't work for long. You kept swiping back to the message thread exchanged with Ethan, your message notifying Ethan of your arrival on... delivered.

He couldn't be ignoring you.

An hour passed and you sat in disbelief. You weren't sure why you waited, rifling for excuses that Ethan could possibly present. Excuses you'd accept in a heartbeat. One of the workers was starting to eye you and you were mortified. Ethan Landry had embarrassed you without even showing up.

Your confusion became anger as you picked up your stuff and walked out of the stupid shop, frustrated tears forming in your eyes. You were eerily reminded of that day with Ethan and you wondered with a cold laugh if this had been his plan all along.

Make you fall for him and then teach you a lesson? Did he get back to his room after you kissed him, laughing his head off? Was it that kiss that made him stand you up?

You wondered why you cared, before the agonizing realization that you cared about Ethan Landry struck you. You weren't sure when it happened or how you had allowed it to, but you guessed it didn't matter much now.

You were right about Ethan Landry.

Though, being right had never been so painful.

~

Your phone vibrated obnoxiously in your pocket and a feeling of dread overcame you as you turned it over. Ethan. The angry tears came back and you were far past accepting excuses. You'd left that idea in the shop, putting more distance between you and the last good things you thought of Ethan Landry with each quick stride.

You declined the call and it came in again and again, desperately. Your phone hovered over that red button, no longer giving Ethan a chance. You stopped walking, wiping your eyes as you clicked Ethan's contact. You had just begun furiously typing when you heard your name shouted distantly. Please, no.

Ethan was running towards you, dressed inappropriately for the weather. His hair was messy and his face was red. He gasped for breath once he reached you, his long legs aiding him in his goal while you stood there, unable to move.

“I'm so sorry, I fell asleep - “ Ethan's voice was deeper than usual, raspier. “It's not an excuse, and I'm sorry - “ Ethan stopped and turned to sneeze into the crook of his arm. He sneezed once, twice, three times. No wonder his voice sounded so different.

The coldness of your stature melted away with quick realization, though a hint of anger was still detectable in your voice.

“Jesus, Ethan, are you sick? You could've just told me.” You reached up to cup Ethan's face, pressing your hands against his cheeks and forehead. No fever, at least.

“I'm okay - “

“No, you're not.” The frustration was clear in your voice and Ethan decided it was best not to argue.

“I'm sorry.”

You sighed, taking off your jacket and throwing it around Ethan's shoulders, unsure of how effective the item would be. You wanted to sit there and scold him for coming out in cold weather with the lack of clothes he had on but the look in his eye told you it could wait. You took his hand and shoved it in your pocket as you led him back to where he came from, trying to make the walk back to his dorm quick. The trip with silent save for the occasional sniffles and sneezes, anger mixing with concern. You weren't sure what to feel, too many emotions overcoming you in too short of a time frame.

Ethan opened his dorm weakly, glancing at you as if expecting you to walk away. The rush of his departure was evident and only strengthened the feelings of guilt you carried for doubting Ethan. But what else were you supposed to think?

"Get changed," you ordered, looking disapprovingly at Ethan's current outfit.

You moved to the kitchen, searching for anything warm to make Ethan. He emerged from the bathroom in holiday pajamas, which you supposed where his warmest pair. Ethan folded up your jacket nervously, placing it on a stray table.

You forced him into bed, wrapping him up in as many layers as you could. You came over with a mug of tea, warning Ethan of its temperature before setting it down on his bedside table.

The silence was tense as you took a seat on the edge of Ethan's bed, both of you glancing at the other expectantly.

If Ethan was completely honest, he expected you to be angry. He could've taken more preventative measures to prevent what he'd done. The guilt at the thought of you sitting alone, waiting in vain for him made his chest hurt.

"I'm sorry," Ethan said with emotion cracking through his words.

"I'm not mad, Ethan," you shook your head, turning your body to face him properly.

"I would be. Or at least upset."

"Maybe I'm a little upset," you half-shrugged with a smile that warmed Ethan's heart.

Ethan laughed lightly, though the sweet sound became strained as his nose was blocked off completely, forcing Ethan to begin breathing through his mouth.

"Tissues?" You inquired, looking around the room to see if you could spot any.

"Don't have any," Ethan shook his head. "You should go, I don't want to get you sick." His voice, despite its hoarseness, was filled with sincerity.

You nodded your agreement and Ethan couldn't help but feel an ache as you walked out of his room.

~

You made the trek to the nearest convenience store, searching the aisles for anything Ethan may need. You went for the tissues and the medicine first, hesitating before you doubled back toward the snack aisle.

However, your plan wasn't exactly thought through. You stood, stumped, in front of Ethan's dorm with no way of getting it open.

Your solution walked up to you in jeans and a hoodie, the curious gaze of Chad inspecting the bags of groceries in your arms.

"Ethan's sick," you explained and the concern on Chad's face grew.

"With what?" Chad opened the door for the two of you, allowing you to step inside first.

"I think it's just a cold." You entered gratefully, setting the bags down on the small, shared kitchen counter. You glanced back at Chad, who was looking over Ethan while keeping his distance as much as he could.

Ethan had become one with his blankets, rolled over against the wall. At least he was getting some rest.

"Here, let me help you with that," Chad offered, observing the way you struggled to find the correct places for each item.

You thanked him, setting aside a box of tissues and some medicine for Ethan once he woke up.

"So," Chad began and although you barely knew him, the teasing tone of his voice made you suspicious of what he would say next. "You and Ethan?"

You couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement or an invitation to let Chad in on something he was missing.

"We're just friends," you insisted despite the warmth of your cheeks and the smile fighting its way onto your face.

"Just friends don't look at each other like that."

You could've brought up the fact that Chad had barely even seen you and Ethan interact but you knew there was no point in arguing. A part of you didn't want to, anyways.

"Do you like him? Honestly?" You weren't sure which inflection gave it away; Chad cared for Ethan despite the distance in their relationship. Learning to live together had done them a favor, after all.

"I do," you confessed quietly, a part of you wondering why you'd done it to essentially a complete stranger.

Chad just smiled, a wide one that only solidified your earlier theory.

"I think he does too."

You shrugged despite yourself, the cycle of your memories occasionally bringing up the beginning of your relationship with Ethan Landry despite how much you'd grown from then.

"You should go," you began after a few moments of silence. "I can take care of him."

Chad complied easily, commenting that he had work to get done anyway. You suspected it was a lie.

There was movement from Ethan's bed and you moved towards its source, bottle of medicine and tissues in hand.

Ethan was suddenly awake now, pink cheeks grinning like he had just won the lottery.

"Are you that excited about tissues...?" You wondered out loud with a small, nervous laugh.

"Chad was right," Ethan blurted and terror struck you as you realized he heard.

"I do like you."

Emotions hit you one after the other, disbelief the most prominent of all.

"I thought you were asleep."

"I'm really glad I wasn't."

"Asshole."

"Hey, you can't be mean to me while I'm sick. I get a pass."

"Just wait until you're better," you threatened emptily.

Ethan's lips curved into a small pout, flushed face only serving to make him look cuter despite the circumstances.

"I really want to kiss you right now," he confessed unsteadily.

"Absolutely not. We have a test on Thursday and I'm not missing it," you retorted, Ethan's light laughter flooding your ears.

"That was my plan all along. Get you sick so I can finally redeem myself," Ethan joked but something in your eyes flickered and he worried he said the wrong thing.

"I'm sorry, I was kidding - "

Ethan's stammering was interrupted by the sweet sound of your laughter, relief spreading through his body.

You leaned down to press a kiss to Ethan's forehead. You quickly moved to press kisses to other empty spots of Ethan's face, no longer denying yourself the urge to pepper his face like you had so many times before.

You weren't sure how you wound up here, taking care of the boy you swore you'd hated, kissing him until he smiled despite the pain he was in. It was an accident, a series of events neither of you had predicted or expected. What began as a trade-off became an ordeal that had trapped both your hearts and refused to let go until the two of you complied.

The warmth of Ethan Landry had overcome you, though it was not too much to bear. It was just the right temperature to comfort you in the cold and shine in the summer. Ethan Landry was wide smiles and soft touches, not at all arrogant like you had initially assumed. He was the feeling of a shirt fresh out of the dryer, comforting you through every inch of your being.

That was just the beginning of what you knew about him. You weren't done exploring all of Ethan Landry and he wasn't done with you. Each misconception held had dissolved and become something else, an invitation to continue learning about each other. You weren't sure what this was or what it would become, but you took the lesson the world wanted to teach you and ran with its potential. If your happiness came because of Ethan Landry, who were you to refuse?

"I know," you whispered, placing a gentle kiss to Ethan's head. The first of many, you were sure.

And for the first time, the two of you understood each other perfectly.