𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

about time

things have always been easy with trent, attached to the hip since you could remember. your other half, his biggest supporter. things were bound to turn romantic no? everyone was rooting for it, secretly you always were too. 

your first date as a couple goes more or less how you planned, awkward and full of teasing. 

word count : 3.1K+

watch it : mild jealousy, cuties, fluff fluff, kinda domestic near the end?

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“eat your food." 

you squint, "what the hell else am i doing, you eat your food."

he scoffs, "im literally half way done with my plate."

"it's literally not even a proper portion of course you're almost done." you point at his tiny little section of steak on about a tablespoon of mash potatoes. 

he waves you off and makes a comment about the "liberty of a kitchen."

you ignore this and take another bite of whatever the hell you ordered. you don't remember. you were too busy trying not to focus too much on the man in front of you.  the all black outfit is insanity, you know he only went for it because you told him ages ago all black looks the best on him. and now here you are. suffering

you just nodded to whatever the waitress was saying. though she could have done with less ogglying at your date. your trent. 

you take pride in knowing your his go to, his best friend, his #1. you've been by his side longer than you can remember being without. he's your other half in every sense. before the fame and money, lavish life and dwindling time. he's always been yours somehow. 

maybe you should've known at some point that feelings were bound to be brewing. 

everyone and their mother had told you. hell, even your own mother had told you so. but you waved them off. he's my friend, no trent is my best friend, ew no that would be so weird, i can't even stand hin on a good day, he's annoying, nope just friends. 

now look at you. seated across from each other, his sleeves rolled up while you eat in candle light. the dark blue drapery of the establishment makes this feel way more intimate than needed. and the chandeliers that hang over your head are enough to make you stare in wonder. 

his sharp features almost soften like this, tucked away in a far corner away from prodding eyes and unnecessary media attention. where it's only the two of you in your little bubble, and the soft live piano that travels from the main foye. you enjoy this, but mainly you enjoy him. 

you noticed he cleaned up his facial hair for this, it makes your heart melt. the silver jewelry that shines on his golden skin is a mirror of the silver that drapes across you. he told you to wear silver. the maniac. he planned this all the way down to the damn jewelry. 

(the both of you are matching in general, which makes you feel something closer to insanity, it gives you a thrill when people’s gazes wash over the two of you and they can so easily tell you are here together. for each other. the stares you got while walking in don't go unforgotten.)

he's the one who dragged you to this restaurant, one much more fancy that you care for. any establishment that calls for floor length dresses to eat is above you, but he insisted. even taking time to tell you how stunning you looked on the way here. your cheeks were on fire the whole time you tried to come up with a counter, failing miserably and just telling him he looked handsome too. 

what a gentleman, driving you here and keeping a hand on yours the whole time. you were sweating the whole time. this whole thing is new to you. but you try not to explode while you sit across from him, sipping on your water to avoid eye contact. 

trent pretends to suddenly be very interested in the silverware, but you don't miss the way his gaze still manages to shift over to you, landing somewhere between your eyes and lips.

you sigh loudly, your appetite disappearing while you push your plate in front of you. 

"do not even start." he warns, fork raised and pointed at you. 

"i didn't even do anything ! what's with you tonight. "

"could ask you the same thing," he mumbles between mouthfuls of his steak, "you're being, very weird."

"im on a dinner date with you how else do you want me to act."

he coughs awkwardly at this, "i don't know ! normally. you haven't made fun of my shoes yet. where's the old grouchy evil and conniving friend i know. you're too, " he waves his fork in the air trying to find the right word, "civil."

you snort, "that's a mouthful. i don't know this whole dynamic shift is taking a while to get used to, " you shrug.

"we need to stop saying i don't know so often." he sighs, rubbing his eyes aggressively. 

you choose to ignore that bit, "and i need to be civil in public or your adoring fans might have my head."

he rolls his eyes, "that's a stretch."

you wave him off with a hand, "you never know. crazy people do crazy things."

he looks at you fondly at this, giving you one of his signature smiles, you look away and change the subject as fast as you can think. you don't need weak knees in a high end establishment. 

"you know i would've been just fine with takeout and a movie." you mumble softly.

he gives you a soft look " i know, but i wanted to make it special. take you out somewhere nice for a change. we never do that."

"you're not going to let me pay are you?" you muse.

he gives you a look, "im offended you even brought that up. i hope you know you're never going to be paying for things ever again right."

"and i hope you know i'm going to fight you over it the whole way through."

he finds this amusing, "yeah yeah yeah shut up and eat your food, i think my socks are sliding off my foot."

"i don't want to hear about your sweaty foot while i eat trent, gross." you fake gag. 

"cry about it." he dead pans. 

you narrow your eyes at him, "i'm going to talk about the pimple i popped on my shoulder, in great detail. is that what you want?"

"ew gross hell no. no more socks or feet geez." he scoffs. 

you cackle, "problem solved then."

he rolls his eyes but goes back to eating anyway, cutting his steak with way too much force than necessary. 

you on the other hand have to play tug of war with the fabric of your dress in order to keep it where you want it. 

"you want to leave don't you?" he comments. 

"that obvious?" he nods, "yep," popping the p.

"i don't want it to seem like I'm ungrateful for the effort or anything, because i swear it's not like that. i'm happy to be with you regardless and yeah. we don't have to leave." you try to explain. 

as much as you enjoy spending time with him this isn't your scene. you're aching to go home, and so are you poor ankles. these heels can only be worn for so long and they are coming up on their expiration date for the night. maybe trent can help take them- no fuck. bad. bad bad. this is a dinner, you're at dinner be civil. 

trent seems to be none the wiser as his attention remains on you. 

"why would we stay if you don't want to ?" he looks at you confused, brows drawn together, arm propped up against the table while he waits for an explanation. 

"because you're the one who wanted to come here?" "so? if you wanna go home then we'll go home."

home. oh. he's starting to refer to his house as home. for the both of you. that does something to you, you're almost dizzy. god how can one person be so sweet. 

"we can finish up and head home? i really don't mind." you suggest. 

he hums at this, "alright then. we’re stopping by the chinese place you like so much, you didn't even eat. "

"to be fair, the portions are the size of my pinkie and i think they took too much creative liberty in the kitchen." you wrinkle your nose. 

he giggles, that shy little spurt of laughter, the one you love so much and always try to coax out of him, "i forget the flavors can be uh, adventurous with most of their dishes. "

you chuckle, "definitely adventurous."

he flags down the waitress from earlier who bats her eyelashes one too many times at him while you roll your eyes. he gives you a glare while he pays, before you can open your mouth. while you get up, dusting your dress down, he presses you flush to him, effectively shutting down any advances. you can't help but grin at the little act. even if your skin is on fire from the contact.

your lead out the back by one of the valets to avoid the busy main section and the endless cameras that wait for you from the front.

you step out to a colder night than you expected, rubbing your arms in a futile attempt to warm yourself up. the valet steps away to retrieve his car while you shiver harder than a skeleton animatronic in a halloween pop up store. 

trent notices, coming up behind you to wrap both arms around your waist, pulling you close. 

"cold?" he has the nerve to ask, flush against you and the damn dress that clings against your skin, his breath tickles your ear while you lick your lips nervously. his arms are much more muscular up close. the whole of him is, you can feel the efforts of his training as they hold you. good lord you're going to lose your mind. and the chest you're pressed up against? do not.

"a little." you whisper back, afraid to say much more.  

he hums, rubbing your arms for you, sending goosebumps all the way down your spine, and he has the audacity to chuckle at your reaction. 

"cars gonna be here soon."

you can only nod dumbly.

he unlatches when the car comes into view. thanking the man with a clap on shoulder, almost like an old friend, and a generous tip.

he opens the door for you, holding his arm out to help you balance, sweet of him. 

you duck inside while he says his last thanks and goodbyes to the valet, turning on the heat first thing when he gets inside. 

the drive is silent, not much to talk about after you confessed your love to each other just days before. 

you could almost laugh at the complete 180 from this week to the last. youre so so glad it ended up this way nonetheless. you don't think you could handle another second suffering in silence. 

how it all went down makes you cry in full honesty. it was an argument. over fucking instagram. you were bitching about the girls who are on his dick and he called you over protective and you defended yourself because duh. that somehow had spiraled into how he's insane, and then your relationship. and then you stormed out, don't ask, you don't remember. 

he tracked you down at your place with flowers as an apology and you just lost it, because what kind of friend gets flowers and calls in just platonic?

lucky for the both of you it wasnt platonic, not to him, not to you. 

he confessed first, that you were more important to him than any of the women he follows combined and so much more. you're his everything can't you see that? he loves you, in every sense. he hates seeing you upset so please, don't cry. 

you kissed him, slow and hesitant while he broke out in giggles. 

"does that mean what i think it does ?" he had whispered against your lips. 

you nodded, shy and tender. 

"i need to hear it. please, say it." breathless, at the cusp of losing his grip on everything. 

"i love you trent, more than i think i can explain. you are my other half yeah? my everything."

and so here you are, watching the shapes of the city breeze past you as the gps guides you to your beloved chinese take out. you can almost taste the noodles you're so ready for it you're starving. 

a hand rests on your thigh, softly tracing shapes the rest of the way there and you hide a smile. you don't think you'll ever get used to any of this new found affection. things you once only day dreamed of having now right in front of you.

you're drowsy by the time you pull into the familiar parking lot. you giggle at just how ridiculous the two of you look. stepping out of a probably hundred thousand dollar car, if not more. dressed like you're going to the ballon d'or. all while walking into a quiet little family own take out spot. 

trent takes your hand again, while you fight to bunch up your dress to get over the obnoxious curve. 

he fights a smile while locking the car behind you. 

"you try getting over this mountain in heels and this long ass dress i dare you." you hiss. 

he snorts but keeps his mouth shut as you inside the familiar space. sighing in glee. 

the kind older woman who always takes your orders doesn't bat an eye at your dress, but welcomes you with a warm hug. 

“the usual?” she beams, even at this time of night. cheery as ever. 

“yes please !”

she smiles, getting to work making your order while you drum against your thigh. bad habit. 

you’re very thankful it’s as late as it is, the place is dead empty. a little safe haven. 

you reach into your purse but mr “i’ll pay for it all” stops you. 

you tsk, “come on this is my spot. i want to tip her well. let me at least have this after that fancy meal.”

“i said i would pay,” he states firmly. 

“i know, but paying here is special to me. and i want it to come from my hand. she deserves it after all the kindness she’s shown to me over the years.” you gesture to her wrapping up your boxes. 

you remember when you used to be a student low on cash, she would always fill your plate with double of everything or just give you the next size up, and extra dessert, free drink. the little things, life is all about the little things. 

he sighs, “fine fine. i won’t take this away from you. “

you smile, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. he waits for you on the side while you go up to the counter. 

she smiles at you knowingly, “finally made a move on that one huh?” 

you blush, “we both made moves and things worked out well. “

she grins, “finally. i thought it would never happen, you know. maybe i’ll get to see your kids too huh?”

you chuckle, kids with trent huh. not a bad idea, “maybe you will.” you sigh fondly. handing her the money. 

you hand a few boxes to trent and motion to the door before she catches on. but it’s a little late. 

you sneak out of there while she’s yelling at you to take your change, “keep it ! it’s all for you !!” you shout back. giggling while you and trent make your escape. 

the ride to his house is filled with laughter and you don’t ever remember being happier. 

its all giggles and shy smiles as he leads you up to his home, hand in hand while you race up the steps and make a dash for the elevator. the door man gives you too a look but doesn’t comment, yet. you know he will sooner or later but you don’t care. 

the take out boxes are split in between the two of you as you hold them snug against your chest. humming softly as the elevator opens. 

the ride up is filled with soft teasing, and more compliments. 

"im serious!" he shoves you gently, "you look, incredible." 

your face burns with enough heat to power an oven, his words do a number on you and all you want is to hear them over and over. but you don't say this. 

"you look so handsome trent." is all you find to reply back. 

a shy smile is what you get in return as the elevator opens. the walk is familiar but your feet are making it feel much longer than needed. 

he opens the door and you dont waste a second collapsing on his couch, groaning at the pressure finally being off your feet. he takes the boxes from your hands and sets them on the living room table, kicking his shoes off somewhere as he organizes them just how you like. 

"eat first then change?" he takes a seat next to you. 

you shake your head, "don't wanna ruin the dress."

"alright," he nods

you attempt to get up but your feet are swollen by the looks of it and you could cry at the though of taking another step in these damned heels. 

you reach over carefully to begin the effort of getting them of you but holy fuck is it taking much longer than needed.

"you're taking so long," he groans, scooting down to raise right ankle to rest gently in his knee, hands working slowly. 

you sigh in sweet sweet relief when the intricate lacing finally comes undone and your foot can breathe. he does the same to the left, bringing it up to rest against your right.

 your head falls back against the couch cushions, eyes closed and relaxed. it gives you a moment to really appreciate it all. to appreciate him. 

you crack your eyes open when he gives your leg a gentle tap, all done. 

you swing your feet back to the ground, scooting up closer to him. it's a beat of silence where he watches you, wait for your move. and you press gentle kisses on both cheeks, then nose, one on his forehead, and finally his lips. 

he can't keep his hands to himself at the end, a hand finds your waist, tugging you closer to him, impossibly close. the other cups your cheek gently. 

you won't part till you run out of air, panting gently against each other's skin.

"thank you." you mumble against his lips.

he hums, "anything for you. you know what."

you could reach the clouds like this, could reach the stars.

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 🙏🙏

a new chad meeks martin edit for y’all! watching scream this weekend, best believe i’m going to fold when i see him. thank the tiktok editors that are being held hostage in my basement. ✩⋆‧₊˚彡

spiderman!ethan brain rot is real

the great war

“my hand was the one you reached for, all throughout the great war.”

pairing: peeta mellark x reader

summary: in which you are hijacked by the capitol and peeta will do anything in his power to get you back

requested !

warnings/contains: hijacking, chocking, angst?? lmk if i should add more

a/n: i had this idea for a very very long time and this request convinced me to finish it!!! i’m so sorry this sucks and there will definitely be a part two 😝

The giggles leaving your lips as Peeta follows you were like music to his ears. With his hand in yours he wished he could capture this moment and remember it forever. He loved everything about you, every single part of you. But what he loved the most was your smile.

Your smile reminded him of the sunset, something he could stare at for hours and never get bored of. You quickened your pace, your laughter never dying down. Peeta chuckled, and quickly followed after you, not wanting to lose his grip on your hand.

But as you kept moving faster and faster, his hand came closer to slipping from yours. Your laughter died down and your surroundings started to change. Slowly, but surely, Peeta was back in the arena. The arena he knew all too well. You threw your head over your shoulder in fear, yelling at Peeta to run faster. Peeta’s mind was completely clouded, he had no clue about what was going on. But his feet carried him anyway, as if they had a mind of their own.

Peeta tried to reach out for your hand, wanting some comfort during these events. But just when your fingertips touched his, an arrow flew towards the sky, hitting the dome right when the lighting was about to strike. Peeta watched as you were blown away from him and screamed your name.

He woke up screaming, sweat beads dripping from his face. “It’s okay, Peeta. You had that one bad dream again.” Haymitch muttered. He was seated on a chair beside Peeta’s bed, his gaze fixated on his hands.

Peeta turned his head to look at him, his breaths heavy as he tried to process the nightmare he has had for the millionth time this week. Haymitch shook his head, knowing who Peeta was searching for as he scanned the room, “The capitol has her, remember?”

Peeta let that sink in like he did every single time he had woken up the past week.

Haymitch got up from his seat, walking towards the exit of the room, “You should get dressed, kid, lunch is in five.” He threw a sympathetic look Peeta’s way, because he too was upset that the capitol had taken you. Haymitch opened his mouth to tell Peeta something, but left the room, leaving Peeta in misery at the thought of you.

The moment he lost you haunted him day and night. He remembered when he had woken up in a plane, right after the dome had blown up. Peeta remembered hearing voices, talking about how they couldn’t find you when they saved everyone. He fell back to sleep right at that moment, and dreamed of you until he woke up the day after. Peeta could remember how furious he had gotten when he had heard about how they had forgotten you. Everyone tried to calm him down and eventually, after a very long time, he did. But that didn’t mean he was just okay with it.

Quite the opposite actually.

Peeta got up from his bed, not a single bone in him wanting to continue this any longer. But he had to. He hadn’t seen or heard from you in a week and he had to admit, even a minute without you was like his world wasn’t real. While changing his clothes, he wished, just like everyday, that he was the one who was taken by the capitol, not you. You were supposed to be the one being saved. Not him.

Haymitch had promised him.

His train of thoughts continued as he made his way down the stairs. They continued as he walked into the dining hall, his stare on the ground. Peeta got in line for the food, absentmindedly grabbing something to eat. He despised himself for not knowing where you were. It was eating him alive, and he wanted nothing more than to be with you right now. Suddenly, the screens in the cafetaria turned on, catching every single person’s attention. Including Peeta’s. He walked towards the table Katniss was sitting at, while his eyes were fixated on the screens.

The chatter died down when a message started to play on the screens. “Everyone’s wondering; what happened during the third quarter quell?” Flickerman’s voice made everyone, who wasn’t already looking, look up.

“And whatever it is you’re doing right now, stop doing it….” Peeta’s eyebrows screwed together, confusion hitting him. He locked gazes with Katniss, and he noticed that she was just as confused as he was. Flickerman spoke up once again, “Because you’re gonna want to witness this.”

“To help us answer the question I had stated earlier - a question all of us have been asking ourselves and others - please, welcome-“

The moment you appeared on screen, Peeta’s heart dropped. He sat in a state of absolute shock, however, when he had finally processed that it was in fact you, he got up to walk over. He mumbled your name and if his heart wasn’t already aching for you, it definitely was now. You looked different, almost fragile as you looked at Flickerman. “So, talk us through what happened that night. The night everyone has been talking about non-stop.”

You blinked rapidly, trying your best not to look at the camera and to come up with an answer Snow will be pleased with. “Being in the games, well, it costs a lot. It costs lives. And what happened that night was something that… cost a lot more.”

Peeta didn’t listen from there on, his main focus being on how you looked and acted. He knew that wasn’t the real you, everything you said, the way you said it. It wasn’t you. It was a programmed, entirely different you.

You discussed with Flickerman, standing up for both Peeta and Katniss, since he had something to say about them. When the discussion ended, your turned your head towards the camera, saying what the woman told you to earlier, word for word.

“All of this violence, all of this killing. Why do we do this?” Peeta was so fixated on you, that he didn’t even notice the effect your words had on the people in the cafetaria. You continued, “Killing. Killing’s not the answer and never will be. Everyone should lay down their weapons immediately.”

After Flickerman asked you a final question, to which you answered to with a plead, the screens turned off. The entire room started shouting nonsense, but all Peeta could think about was that you were alive. He had to get you out of there before they would do worse things to you.

From that day on, Peeta and the others stuck in district thirteen did everything in the power to get you back. And every single week there was an interview of you and Flickerman on the screens. The only sign you were still alive. And in every following interview the life in you seemed to lessen.

It took a long while of prepping and practicing, but finally, Peeta was going to have you back. It was a difficult plan to execute and they weren’t even sure it would work, but Peeta held the hope. And thanks to Katniss and Finnick, he wasn’t alone in this.

Thankfully, the plan worked and Peeta couldn’t have been more happier than he was in that moment. He counted the seconds until you were in his arms again.

He was in his room when Haymitch came to bring him the good news that you were back. Peeta couldn’t contain his excitement and he jumped up to follow Haymitch to you.

When he entered the room you were in, Peeta’s heart stopped beating. He was met with your back as the people around you were investigating you and your heartbeat. He whispered your name, almost terrified this wasn’t real.

You lifted your head the sound of your name, the voice making you fill with rage. When you turned your head to look at him, Peeta couldn’t bear to see the sight before him. You looked completely beaten up and vulnerable.

The look on your face as you looked on him went past him while he observed you. He couldn’t believe his eyes, at last you were here with him. Away from the people who had hurt you whole he wasn’t with you.

You let out a yell of rage before jumping straight at him, everything Snow had told you about Peeta ringing in your thoughts.

Peeta couldn’t form a single coherent thought as your hands were wrapped around his neck, choking him mercilessly. You pushed away everyone in the way as they ran at you, your only mission to kill the man laying beneath you.

But before Peeta’s eyes closed in defeat, someone hit your head with a chair.

You fell on top of Peeta, who had been knocked out by the lack of air.

you’re so pretty it hurts ♡ arisu ryohei

synopsis ; arisu searches for usagi at a pool party, but finds an old friend instead.

content warnings ; alludes to sex / non-descriptive smut, sexual assault [and how it’s pushed away as jokes], virgin!reader, soft n sappy n sweet arisu ):

song inspo ; im yours by isabel larosa

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

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Lees verder

*starts giggling uncontrollably*

𝑭.𝑹.𝑰.𝑬.𝑵.𝑫.𝑺.‧₊˚✧ . ˚

𝐒𝐮-𝐇𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝟓.𝟑𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 | 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮-𝐇𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐢𝐭.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐀𝐔 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮-𝐇𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 (𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐬!) 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞.𝐈 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟓 + 𝟏 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐎𝐔𝐀𝐃 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧,𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐮-𝐇𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐨 𝐈’𝐦 𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐞 ♡

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷1. Ms. Park

“Su-Hyeok, what do you think of Nam-Ra’s interpretation?”

Class 2-5 all turn their heads to the back, trying—but failing—to suppress their laughter, awaiting what kind of nonsense would spew from Su-Hyeok’s mouth this time around.

“I agree. She’s 100% correct.”

Some giggles slip through before Ms. Park silences them by holding her hand up. “Great,” Ms. Park says sarcastically, with an air of teasing. “Now…just what do you agree with again?”

Su-Hyeok doesn’t even falter, replying with, “If she could be kind enough to repeat her response so that I can gather my thoughts more coherently….” The whole class loses it right then and there.

His seat-mate further rubs salt into the wound by whispering between bouts of laughter, “Yah, did you even have any thoughts to begin with?” This earns him a glare, but he was too far gone to care.

Su-Hyeok grimaces, seeing the disappointment on Ms. Park’s face mixed with amusement as she gestures for Nam-Ra to recite her previous statement again. With the amount of times he acts up in the same manner on a regular basis, he’s surprised and grateful that she still allows him to step foot into class for lessons.

Nam-Ra rises once more, her chair creaking slightly, though that doesn’t wake you up from your nap next to her. Currently, you were turned away from the window, left elbow flat on the desk surface as a makeshift pillow. “All of us have some sort of prejudice. We all have preconceptions about other people.”

“Precisely,” Ms. Park compliments. “Thank you, Nam-Ra, for saying that twice.” With her emphasis on the word, she fixes her stern gaze on Su-Hyeok, but her next words are the exact opposite. “Bare-Su, please pay more attention to my lesson during class time and less on staring at your girlfriend, Y/N.” She raises her eyebrows teasingly.

Su-Hyeok is quick to correct her, trying to suppress the heat he feels slowly making its way up to his face. “Ms. Park,” he says incredulously. “We’re not together.”

“Eyyy,” Dae-Su’s booming voice reverberates in the classroom. “Now you’re just making up lies.” You stir at the loud sound, but it’s still not enough to make you open your eyes.

“I’m serious, Dae-Su,” Su-Hyeok splutters.

“Yet you’re not denying having stared at Y/N~,” Wu-Jin drawls, giving Dae-Su’s awaiting hand a high-five with a resounding smack.

“You guys, cut it out already!” Su-Hyeok says exasperatedly to deaf ears. “Ms. Park, how come Y/N is taking a sound nap in class, but I’m the one being ganged up on?”

“This is the first time it has happened, and she’s still ranked 3rd in the class. I can afford to let it slide,” Ms. Park crosses her arms and smiles, entertained by Su-Hyeok’s excuses.

“Isn’t this blatant favoritism?” Su-Hyeok mumbles under his breath.

“You also favor Y/N, so you can’t be one to talk,” his seat-mate teases him for the second time that day.

“You’re not even on the baseball team so why are you so hell-bent on hitting home runs with your sassy remarks today, huh?” Su-Hyeok slaps him upside the head.

“Alright, alright, settle down class. I think that’s enough punishment for our Bare-Su today.” When Ms. Park turns back to the blackboard, she says loud enough for the class to hear, “No worries. We can just ask Y/N for confirmation when she’s up.” By how much the students were cracking up, it suddenly seems like a free period.

“Seonsaengnim!”

At Su-Hyeok’s outburst, you wake up, trying to settle back into reality. Of course, Ms. Park notices your state of rousing. She’s not one to miss any little detail.

“Ah, good morning to you, Y/N. So glad you can finally join us.” Her words hold no malice at all, but you’re still sheepish.

Shyly scratching you head, you voice out, “I apologize for dozing off. Did I miss anything important?” You finally notice all eyes on you. Well, save for Su-Hyeok’s. “Guys….? Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Well—" Dae-Su begins but is cut off by Ms. Park.

“Please refrain from sleeping again in my class as it’s a distraction…to some more than others.”

Laughter rings loud and clear again, all directed towards Su-Hyeok as you turn to Nam-Ra for answers in bewilderment.

“Banjang, you’re the smartest one here. What’s going on?”

Nam-Ra spares a glance at you with a slight smirk, an expression you’ve never seen on her before, despite how much she’s warmed up to you as her seat-mate and friend, though she’s hesitant to admit to the latter.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Nam-Ra says dismissively, but lightly. “Ms. Park was just teaching Su-Hyeok about preconceptions.”

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷2. On-Jo

Linking your arm through Nam-Ra’s while balancing your tray with your other hand, you pull her in the direction of where On-Jo and I-Sak were already seated with their own lunches piled high with food.

“Save some for the rest of us, On-Jo,” you joke as you and Nam-Ra sit down on the opposite bench, pointing to your friend’s tray.

“Ha ha, very funny,” On-Jo pouts. “I don’t eat a lot; I just eat well.”

“A little too well,” Nam-Ra chimes in, causing you to choke on your banana milk in laughter and surprise. Since Nam-Ra started opening up to your friend group, you can already see the influence it’s had on her. Her conversations may still be minimal, but boy do they pack a punch.

While you all wait for the rowdy boys to join, I-Sak mimes pulling you, Nam-Ra, and On-Jo into a huddle and whispers, “So, have you guys thought about who’s asking who to the spring formal in a few months?” Here, she raises her eyebrows and adds, “Better yet, who are you hoping will ask you?”

“Aish,” you rebuke. “I thought you were about to spill your biggest secret or something!”

“Hey, I’m just curious! Not all of us are set and ready like you are, Y/N!” I-Sak winks at you as you’re in the middle of chewing.

You finish your bite before replying, “Huh?”

“Well, you and Su-Hyeok are already dating, so isn’t it obvious you’ll be attending together?” On-Jo answers.

Flabbergasted, you retort, “But we’re not in a relationship. I thought that was what’s obvious.” Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.

“Tsk, since when did you become so good at lying, our sweet and innocent Y/N?” I-Sak pokes you with the clean end of her chopstick.

“There’s nothing going on between us,” you emphasize. “I’ve known him since we were babies, and he definitely doesn’t like me in that way. I know that for a fact!” You point from Nam-Ra, to On-Jo, and finally to I-Sak. “Not one more word from you guys, alright?”

Nam-Ra slurps a spoonful of her seaweed soup loudly.

You turn to her and narrow your eyes. “Now, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you said not one more word,” Nam-Ra says without missing a beat. “That was a sound.”

You could never win against Nam-Ra verbally. “Don’t tell me you agree with On-Jo and I-Sak,” you say while facepalming. “Look guys, he’s really sweet, kind, caring, brave…” Realizing you’re rambling when the girls give you a look, you blush and backpedal. “What I mean,” you say as you fix them all with a gaze of finality, “is that it’d be weird. We grew up together, and we fight all the time.”

“I like to call that lover’s quarrel,” On-Jo states.

You roll your eyes and throw a clean crumpled napkin at her, which she manages to dodge.

“I also forgot nice smile, athletic, handsome—" I-Sak mimics your voice. You know it’s bad how spot-on it is when even Nam-Ra laughs.

“Yah! Do you want to die?”

On-Jo protects I-Sak from your slaps to her arm. “Just admit that you like—" On-Jo is interrupted by a voice you know all too well.

“Like what?” Su-Hyeok asks, oblivious, as he plops down next to you, nudging your shoulder with his out of habit as the boys fill in the rest of the bench, focused on their own conversations.

“Yeah, Y/N, what were you going to say?” I-Sak prods, smiling wider than you thought humanly possible.

You plead with your eyes to Nam-Ra for help, but she’s just the same as the other two, fixing you with a mischievous grin. Su-Hyeok looks at you expectantly, waiting for an answer.

“Uh…I was just saying that I like,” you stall as you look around for a way out. Your gaze lands on a drink everyone has on their tray. “The banana milk!” You cringe as the words leave your mouth.

“Oh, in that case,” Su-Hyeok hands over his bottle to you. “Here, you can have mine.”

As he turns to his right to talk to Cheong-San, I-Sak flashes you a heart with her fingers discreetly, Nam-Ra elbows you in the arm playfully, and On-Jo—you’re going to get her big time for this.

Before Su-Hyeok is finished with his conversation and turns back to you, she mouths, “I love oo yoo.”

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷3. Cheong-San

You have no idea why your friends decided to play soccer during lunch when it was scorching hot out, especially a day before exams, but followed nonetheless. On-Jo and I-Sak opted out and were currently benched, acting as cheerleaders. You, however, got dragged into the game as Nam-Ra was the referee and she didn’t want to be the lone girl on the field.

The sun was starting to make you sweat, and you chalked it up to the heat beating down on your head for the sudden dizziness you were feeling. You shook your head and tried to focus on the game that was about to start.

Cheong-San was right next to you, and on the far end of the field you could see Su-Hyeok playing goalie. As Dae-Su kicked off signaling the first half, you began to stagger as your vision becomes unfocused. Just when Cheong-San is about to sprint off in the direction of the ball Dae-Su had kicked, you grab onto his arm, stopping him.

“Cheong-San, I don’t feel too good,” you say.

He steadies you by the shoulder and peers at your face. “Y/N, you’re looking a little more than just pale. Do you think you’ll be okay? Want to sit down for a minute with On-Jo and I-Sak?” You close your eyes as your head spins but manage to give a weak nod when he checks your forehead temperature with his hand.

“Hey! What’s going on over there?” Someone screams across the field, questioning.

As Cheong-San takes your wrist to lead you back to the girls, your vision goes black and the last thing you remember is someone catching you to break your fall.

***

On-Jo and I-Sak were the first ones to reach you as Cheong-San tries to sit you up. He gets you to somewhat lean on his chest, an arm around your shoulder as the girls crowd around to see what they could do to help.

“Is Y/N alright?” Not getting a response, Nam-Ra checks your pulse and breathing. “Her heartbeat is a little fast, one of the tell-tale signs of heat exhaustion. Perhaps that's the case?”

“I think we should take her to the nurse either way,” On-Jo says, I-Sak nodding in agreement.

“On-Jo, come with me,” Cheong-San directs, as he maneuvers you for a proper piggyback.

“Move,” Su-Hyeok says, seriously.

“It’s okay, I got her,” Cheong-San replies as On-Jo helps to stabilize you on his back.

“I wasn’t asking.” Su-Hyeok slightly pushes Cheong-San.

“Guys, this isn’t the time to fight,” Nam-Ra admonishes, pointing at your unconscious form.

Without another word, Su-Hyeok picks you up easily and carries you away, with Cheong-San and On-Jo in tow all the way to the infirmary.

Once there, On-Jo decided to go get some snacks since everyone skipped lunch, leaving the two boys behind with you after the nurse assessed your condition.

Cheong-San starts chuckling quietly as Su-Hyeok glares at him.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I don’t find the situation funny, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m worried for Y/N as well.”

Su-Hyeok narrows his eyes at Cheong-San. “Why?”

Dumbfounded, Cheong-San replies, “Why would you ask that? She’s a good friend. We grew up together too you know.”

When Su-Hyeok doesn’t respond, Cheong-San nudges him with his foot under the bed to which the former just makes an incoherent noise. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“I’m not jealous at all that you caught Y/N before she fainted.”

“I never mentioned that,” Cheong-San says between laughs, dimple on full display. “Would you rather I had dropped her to the ground? I don’t know why you would be mad when I was just lending a hand, and considering that you guys are dating and all…” he trails off.

“We’re not dating,” Su-Hyeok says flatly.

“Stop messing around with me Bare-Su,” Cheong-San teases, tilting his head in the direction of your small hands that Su-Hyeok was currently enveloping in his large ones.

“You idiot, I’m not kidding. We’re just friends; that’s all.” He doesn’t let go of your hands. If anything, he cradles them even tighter.

Cheong-San pauses, thinking whether to believe him or not. “Okay, hypothetically let’s say you guys aren’t together—"

“—Because we’re not,” Su-Hyeok interrupts.

“Hypothetically,” Cheong-San stresses. “Then, do you like Y/N?”

“Then, do you like On-Jo?”

“I asked first!”

“I—"

When you open your eyes, you’re met with a white ceiling and curtains, the sound of the machine displaying your vitals beeping away. Recognizing that you were in the school’s infirmary due to the IV drip and the strong smell of antiseptic, the only thing you remembered was fainting. Everything after is a blur.

You hear hushed whispers and realize it was Su-Hyeok and Cheong-San in the room with you. “What are you two idiots arguing about this time?” You rasp. Their heads whip towards you, shocked and simultaneously relieved.

“How much of our conversation did you hear?”

“That’s the first thing you ask me? I don’t even get a ‘how are you’?” You fake mock hurt at Su-Hyeok’s question.

“Are you okay?” Cheong-San asks.

“I like Cheong-San better,” you joke and stick your tongue out at Su-Hyeok as Cheong-San does the same.

“We were worried sick but I guess you’re fine now that you’re back to bullying me,” Su-Hyeok complains. “So feisty for such a tiny human.”

“Easy for you to carry,” Cheong-San mutters, earning a kick from Su-Hyeok. “OUCH!” He exclaims as he begins to rub his shin from the impact.

You look between the two of them, more confused than ever but decide to let it go. “Why am I here again? I only know I passed out.”

Su-Hyeok flicks you on the forehead. “The nurse said you were dehydrated and it seemed like you didn’t eat or sleep well enough. Coupled with the heat exhaustion, your already tired body couldn’t handle it and you went down.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? Is that all you can say? You scared me to death. You stayed up late studying again huh?”

“Maybe…” You reply guiltily. The boys shake their heads at your predictable nature. You always study like crazy but this has never happened before, so you were going to make sure to not accidentally neglect self-care for good grades again. “How did I get here from the field?”

“Cheong-San caught you and—"

“Awww, you did?” You sit up and spread your arms for a hug, having to let go of Su-Hyeok’s hands to do so. Cheong-San was going to return it until he turned to Su-Hyeok for permission.

“Why do you need to ask whether he’d allow it?” You roll your eyes. “My arms are getting tired.” You pull Cheong-San in for a hug and he returns the friendly gesture.

Just then, the door opens and On-Jo comes in with a plastic bag full of goodies. “Y/N, you’re awake!” She rushes over to squeeze the life out of you.

“On-Jo…can’t breathe,” you say in between pauses.

She lets you go and elbows Cheong-San. When he doesn’t get the hint, she takes him by the hand and drags him out, leaving the bag behind on the table for you. Just before the door closes, Cheong-San pops his head in again. “Su-Hyeok carried you in his arms all the way here!”

“AISH!” Su-Hyeok throws his backpack at the door, but the two had already left.

You turn to Su-Hyeok who won’t meet your gaze. Poking his arm, you tease him. “So, you do care.” If you had been awake at the time, surely you would be a living tomato with the stares you know for a fact you would be getting from being transported that way across school grounds.

Su-Hyeok just breathes out exasperatedly. “More than you know.” He said the line so quietly, you would’ve missed it if you weren’t paying attention.

Not knowing what came over you, you lean over and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you,” you say. Both of you were surprised with matching blushes as proof.

Too embarrassed now for having been so bold, you make the excuse of feeling tired and lay down, turning your head to the other side to hide your smile. Su-Hyeok grabs your hand again even as you close your eyes.

His phone dings with a text and you hear him curse under his breath. “That little—“

Which could only mean one thing: Cheong-San.

[ Text: Are you sure you’re not dating? I saw everything through the window ]

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷4. Gyeong-Su

You’re walking along the school’s skybridge when you hear someone calling.

“Y/N! Wait up!”

You stop and turn around, smiling when you see it’s Gyeong-Su. He’s such a sweetheart that your friend group always has a soft spot reserved for him.

He pants as he comes to a stop next to you, falling into pace by your side. “Geez, for someone with such short legs, you walk incredibly fast.”

“Is that all you wanted to say to me?” You push him.

Gyeong-Su laughs. “No, no. I’m just kidding. I have a favor to ask.”

“Glad to know you start asking for favors by first insulting the person.”

“I’m sorry okay!” He didn’t look sorry at all. “I need help with English. If I fail this next exam, I’d have to retake the class and the teacher and I already don’t get along,” he frowns.

“I’m not saying that I decline, but wouldn’t Nam-Ra be a better choice?”

“Sure, but she hasn’t studied abroad. You lived in New York for a year before high school.”

“Alright, but if your English has the accent of a New Yorker, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Better an accent than the Konglish I’m speaking with in class. Everyone always laughs when I have to read something.”

You giggle. “I can meet you in the library after our last class period. It’s a Friday anyway so we don’t have school tomorrow, which means we can stay a little later than usual. Does that work for you?”

“Yes! Thank you so much, Y/N.” Gyeong-Su looked so happy it was contagious. His smile suddenly falters as he leans in to tell you, “Although, I hope that you won’t let Su-Hyeok know.”

“What? What does he have to do anything?”

Gyeong-Su looks at you like you had two heads growing from your neck, gazing pointedly. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t want him to be mad that I’m spending time with you. He’d beat me up. It’s clear which of us would win in a fight, come on now.”

“Why would he be mad?” You inquire, baffled.

“You know, for ranking third place in class, you’re not as bright as I thought.”

“Watch it,” you warn, playfully angry.

“You’re supposed to be tutoring me for language skills but here I am, having to spell everything out for you.” Gyeong-Su gives you a moment to see if you would figure it out but when he sees the gears turning in your head, he sighs. “Su-Hyeok might get jealous and I don’t want that. You know, protective boyfriend and all. The what-have-you’s from all those dramas.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you say as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which to you it certainly was.

“Whatever you say. If you see me one day with a black eye and a broken leg, you’re going to be held responsible for my hospital bills.”

You roll your eyes as Gyeong-Su waves and goes on his way, promising to meet up later.

***

A few hours pass and you find a seat in the corner of the library where it’s more silent and there’s a window nook in between two bookshelves against the wall; it was your favorite study spot aside from your bedroom.

Gyeong-Su is more punctual than you imagined, showing up barely a few minutes after you with all his study materials. At the moment, his backpack could be used as a weapon with everything he packed inside.

“Are you sure you’re here to study, or are you preparing for war?” You stare in amazement as he pulls endless amounts of materials from his bag.

“I wasn’t kidding about not wanting to repeat class.” An English textbook comes slamming onto the table and you shush him hurriedly. Thankfully, the other students are too busy studying with their headphones in to mind the noise.

“We can work on spelling first,” you guide as you flip through his workbook.

You’re surprised at how fast Gyeong-Su learns after just a few units, and even more proud at the effort he puts into grasping the subject. Perhaps you could finally understand why teachers always glow when their students succeed.

“Wow, would you look at that. I’m a great tutor,” you boast.

“Your ego is pretty great too.”

You hit him on the head with a pencil but he just laughs it off. Your phone keeps vibrating with messages, so not wanting it to be a distraction, you put it on ‘do not disturb’ mode without checking the notifications on screen and proceed to place it upside down on the table.

Both you and Gyeong-Su are too focused on your studies to notice Su-Hyeok coming into the library.

“Y/N, did you lose your phone?”

You look up, even more surprised than Gyeong-Su at his presence. “How did you know we were here?”

“You didn’t tell him? Wow, I’ll remember that the next time I have a secret I need you to keep,” Gyeong-Su says, fascinated.

“I waited an hour for you at the school gates to walk home together, but you never showed up so I texted Cheong-San and he said you were tutoring Gyeong-Su in the library.”

“Oh my god, I totally forgot.” You put your hand on your head. Su-Hyeok would always walk you home as you two live in the same area, neighbors to be exact. “I’m so sorry you had to wait that long. It totally slipped my mind!” He didn’t look mad, just tired. “You can go home without me you know. I wouldn’t want you to wait even longer. I still have a few chapters left to help Gyeong-Su with.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not letting you go by yourself in the dark. A few more hours is nothing.” Before you can refuse, he dumps his backpack on the floor and scoots the adjacent chair closer to yours, sits down, and leans his head on your shoulder. “Wake me up when you’re done.”

He’s out cold in a few minutes, and you can only blame it on sleep deprivation; the badge every high school student wears proudly.

“Now that the boyfriend is sleeping and won’t fight me—“

“How many times do I have to tell you, Gyeong-Su? We’re not dating.”

“Sure, because that’s totally what friends do,” he says sarcastically.

As he goes back to his notes, you look down at Su-Hyeok leaning on you, moving his hair out of his eyes carefully so as not to wake him. Were his eyelashes always that long? His nose bridge so high? His skin so clear? His lips—

“Earth to Y/N,” Gyeong-Su waves his hand in your face. “You guys sure have a thing for staring at the other when they’re asleep. You know, it’s the same look on your faces too.”

“What? We don’t do that.”

“First, he gets caught by the whole class and now you get caught by me. You’re lucky it’s just one person who’s seeing this.”

You brush aside the first thing Gyeong-Su says, because Su-Hyeok having feelings for you? Impossible.

“I wasn’t staring!” That draws the attention of a few students nearby.

“Fine, admiring tastefully then.”

You look down at Su-Hyeok again. “You have to admit, it’s pretty endearing seeing someone sleep.”

Gyeong-Su snorts. “You’re just saying that because it’s Su-Hyeok. If it was me, you would’ve already sent me flying clear across the room with a kick.”

Not really being able to argue with that, you ignore it and turn back to give Gyeong-Su another exercise when Su-Hyeok stirs. “Next, can you describe us all with one word and spell it correctly?”

He ponders for a moment before pointing to himself: “Amazing.” A-M-A-Z-I-N-G is the first line on his notebook.

Next, he points to Su-Hyeok: “Barefoot.” You laugh at the accuracy while Su-Hyeok curses Gyeong-Su. It’s even funnier seeing him write it down in all seriousness. B-A-R-E-F-O-O-T is the next line.

A pencil aims at your face as Gyeong-Su mocks: “Gnome.”

“You’re getting awfully comfortable with the short jokes there.” G-N-O-M-E goes down in the third line.

“She’s just petite,” Su-Hyeok tries to defend you, doing a horrible job at it.

“Great, she thinks you’re lovable and he thinks you’re cute.”

“You do?!” You and Su-Hyeok say to one another at the same time.

“The two of you aren’t fooling anyone with this ‘We’re not together’ thing. Here’s a word to describe both of you. Gyeong-Su scribbles something quickly down on the notepad in perfect English and holds it up sideways for you as he reads it out loud, gesturing with his pointer finger between you and Su-Hyeok:

┌──────────┐

ᑕOᑌᑭᒪE ♡

└──────────┘

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷5. Nam-Ra

No one ever comes to class early like she does, and so Nam-Ra is more than surprised to see Su-Hyeok of all people stepping foot into the room, the slide of the wooden door announcing his entrance. He jumps when he sees her already there.

“What is it?” Nam-Ra cuts to the chase.

“Uh…nothing,” Su-Hyeok stammers.

“Whatever’s in your hands doesn’t seem like nothing.”

He quickly hides the note behind his back.

Nam-Ra raises an eyebrow at this and taps your still-empty desk. “Go ahead and put it here. I’ll let Y/N know.”

“It’s not for her.”

“Su-Hyeok, you’re talking to me, not Dae-Su. I don’t believe that statement in the slightest.”

Su-Hyeok sighs as he walks over to your seat and sits down. “Prez, I need advice.”

“Hmm, what did On-Jo call it? Lover’s quarrel, was it? I’m not that experienced to be a love guru.”

“We’re not—"

“Cut it out. No matter how many times you guys deny it, it won’t make it true.”

“But—"

“Nope.” Seeing as he wasn’t going to say anything else, Nam-Ra smiles to herself. If she can keep this up, maybe they’ll actually stop dancing around one another. “Now, why are you here and not with Y/N like you usually are?”

“She’s mad at me.”

“I find that hard to believe, but explain.”

“Y/N has been avoiding me and I don’t know why. We were fine still during the study session with Gyeong-Su, but after that day she’s been keeping her distance. She flinches when I so much as sit near her, when I talk to her, she can’t look me in the eyes, and when we walk home together, she’s always speeding ahead. I think I might’ve done something wrong, but I also don’t think I have? That’s why I was planning to put this apology letter on her desk.”

Nam-Ra brushes her hand down her face at the absurdity of the situation. “You guys are hopeless.”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you telling me or asking me about whether you messed up?”

“Uh…both?”

“Gosh, you’re clueless.”

“I didn’t know advice came with being bashed.”

“Just answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to my following questions.” Nam-Ra receives a nod in response.

“Look, you haven’t done anything wrong right?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Does Y/N turn red when you’re near?”

“Yes, now that you mention it.”

“Is she becoming more flustered now when she never was before?”

“Also a yes to that question.” Su-Hyeok’s eyes widen and when Nam-Ra finally thinks he’s pieced it together, he hits her with the entire force of collective obliviousness in the world. “Oh no! Do you think she’s come down with something? Is she sick?”

“Aigoo!” She smacks him on the head with her workbook.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Focus!”

“I was until you gave me a concussion!”

“That’s not how that works—oh never mind! Just, think! I know it’s not something you usually tend to do, but try!”

“As long as you don’t hit me again.”

Nam-Ra ignores his previous words and continues. “Since you said you guys aren’t together I’ll believe it just for today.”

“There’s nothing to believe or not, we really don’t have that kind of a relationship.”

“But do you want to?”

“I don’t think she likes me like that—"

“Yes or no only.”

“Fine, yes. I can’t believe I’m telling you before I tell Y/N.” Su-Hyeok slumps in his seat.

“So, you like her.” Nam-Ra states it as is, no longer questioning.

“I can’t say no now after what I said earlier, so yes. I really do.”

“Then just go tell her. It’s not that hard. You’re making a simple thing more difficult than quantum mechanics.”

“Does Y/N even like me back for me to confess?”

“Yes. You’re a fool for not noticing it: the avoidance, the distance, the shyness. Any of that ring a bell?” She can pinpoint exactly when the realization hits him. “Everyone can see it except for the two of you. I’m shocked that it took me to smack some sense into you; literally and metaphorically.”

“I always thought that all friends were like us.”

“In what world? Friends don’t look at each other like that.”

Su-Hyeok springs up from his chair with a hasty thank you, promising to think it through before confessing, and rushes off to who knows where.

When he leaves, Nam-Ra sits alone pondering whether she should just change her last name to Cupid.

Cheong-San and On-Jo clearly need some arrows as well.

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷ +1

When Cheong-San’s mom invites the friend group to their chicken restaurant for a free meal, no one could decline.

You and Su-Hyeok come in a bit later after everyone had already started eating, hand-in-hand.

“There’s the cute couple!” Cheong-San’s mom exclaims, handing over the largest platter of fried chicken you’ve seen in your life.

“Mrs. Lee, they’re not—” everyone at the table choruses in unison, except for Nam-Ra.

“We are!” You say, holding up your clasped hands.

Dae-Su drops his chicken on the floor in shock and everyone’s mouths hang open comically in silence.

“Mwoya? Have you been fooling us all this time?” Your friends talk over one another, but the sentence is somehow comprehensible.

“Just ourselves,” Su-Hyeok admits, looking down at you fondly, only to see you already gazing up at him.

┈┈┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈┈┈

© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐞𝐭𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐱’𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐔𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨, 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

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

pairing: finnick odair x f!district 4 reader

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

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

word count: 1.2k

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

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

Water. Just get to the water.

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

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

It was all your body knew how to do.

Keep moving.

Keep fighting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Childhood friend turned victor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No games.

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

But you still had him.

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

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

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

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

Hope.

“Together.”

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« 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝟱 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗲𝘆𝗮𝗺'𝘀 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 ♡

warnings: none

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

『 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝟭. 𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 』

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

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

『 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝟮. 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝗰𝗲 』

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

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

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

『 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝟯. 𝗽𝗵𝘆𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 』

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

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

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

『 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝟰. 𝗴𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 』

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

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

『 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝟱. 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 』

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

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

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

masterlist 

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