˗ˏˋ Chad Meeks Martin ´ˎ˗

fortnight

“and i love you, it's ruining my life”

pairing: nikolas omilana x reader

summary: in which niko avoids you for a certain reason, and at some point you can’t take it any longer.

requested

a/n: hii everyone i’m back from the dead like i always am every few months!!! school has been draining, but one night i got this motivation and managed to write this, hope you like it <3 btw i know i should be finishing of the hunger games requests, but there are so little fics on here for the beta squad members and the motivation just got to me when watching a video.

also pleaseeeee start requesting more beta squad, not just niko because there aren’t many fics for these amazing men

NIKO never knew what it was like to be so infuriated by someone, it caused restless nights. To be so head over heels, that all your thoughts were consumed by only that person. That was until Niko met you. The way you had him wrapped around your finger, without you even noticing or trying, was something he never understood. But it was you, how could he not be?

The famous youtuber also didn’t know what it was like to love someone that wasn’t his. Someone not meant for him.

He had respect for your relationship, of course, he wasn’t one to mingle and make things worse. Especially since your boyfriend was one of the best ones you’ve had. However, the mere thought of you drove him absolutely insane and he wasn’t sure for how much longer he could bear it anymore.

You were happy, though, and he didn’t want to be the reason that would be ruined.

So he avoided you like the plague. Leaving every room you entered, switching the topic whenever you were mentioned, trying to keep his eyes from wandering off to where you were standing. It was killing him, but if it meant keeping you happy, he didn’t mind the torture one tiny bit.

Niko hadn’t told anyone about what he felt for you, he would take it to his grave, that’s for sure. Yet, he was more obvious than he thought he was, since he’s noticed the sympathetic looks his friends gave him whenever you were around. Numerous times. It didn’t matter, it’s not like you were ever going to find out and that’s all that really mattered.

After Niko had arrived back at his apartment, he was surprised to hear not a single sound being made. Knowing Aj, he would always either be gaming and yelling for the whole neighbourhood to hear or edit a video with the volume on to the max.

After checking a few rooms for where his roommate was, he got a call from Aj himself.

“Where are you, you rat?” Niko questioned, not even bothering to greet him. Aj let out a laugh on the other line, “Missing me now, are you? Giraffe.”

Niko rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the smile forming on his face, “Ha ha, hilarious.”

“Anyway, I’m at Chunkz’ right now.”

And after conversing for a few minutes, discussing everything and nothing, they ended the call. The tall guy let out a loud sigh, as he sat down on the sofa, turning on the tv to watch anything that came up first. However, just when he was about to push the button of the remote, the doorbell rang.

Niko was confused to say the least, but didn’t expect much of it. It was probably one of his friends needing something from him.

When Niko opened the door, however, he wished he didn’t. His heart dropped to his stomach, his breath hitching in his throat. That was the effect you had on him. Your hair was messed up quite a bit, your lips forming a pout as you looked at him. Oh, how he had to restrain all the power in him not to kiss that pout away.

A soft call of your name left his lips, as if he was terrified it was just a hallucination. “Niko,” Your voice was stern, yet there was some kind of sadness to it. And without saying another word, you entered the apartment as if you owned the place.

When you walked past him, your scent wafted into his nostrils and he took it in. He closed his eyes, not wanting to lose control and confess the second he turned around and looked at you again. Niko closed the door, taking his sweet time going to you. You were pacing back and forth in the living space of the apartment, your eyebrows furrowed and face filled with worry.

“What’s wrong?” Niko questioned, earning a rather unbelievable scoff from you. When you stopped pacing and moved closer to him, Niko took back a step, making you even more frustrated than you were before. “You’re asking me what’s wrong? I should ask you!” You couldn’t comprehend why the closest friend you had ever had, wasn’t present in your life anymore. The minute your feet took a step closer to him, he backed away once more, “Look! What’s this? Why are you avoiding me?”

You were absolutely fuming to put it lightly. What was he doing?

His gaze fell down to the floor, because if he would look at you right now, he knew he would ruin things even more. “I don’t get it, Niko…” Your voice was dripping with desperation, but you couldn’t care less at the minute, only interested in whatever was going between the two of you.

Another step closer, but this time he didn’t budge, his eyes stuck to the ground. But when you said his name so sweetly, who could blame him when he averted his gaze to meet yours. The question that left your lips, made the guilt sink inside of him, “What did I do wrong?”

However he didn’t cave in. He couldn’t and he wouldn’t, no matter how tempting the thought of you being his seemed right now.

“Niko, please. Talk to me!”

Silence, once again.

“Nik-“

“I can’t talk, please don’t make me.” His whisper was barely audible, but still loud enough for you to hear. “Why not, huh? Are you just going to ignore me like you have done for the past couple of-“

“I have to! I never wanted for this to happen.”

The tone in his voice took you by surprise, your eyes searching his for a more clear answer, “What are you talking about?”

“You think I wanted for all of this to happen? Of course not!” He started, and he regretted everything he said after, “I couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help to feel at home with you, couldn’t help but feel as if you are the only one in this universe.”

His gaze was burning into yours, “I couldn’t help but fall in love with you.”

Something fluttered unwantedly in your chest, followed by your breath hitching in your throat. Niko’s in love with you?

“You… what?”

“I fell for you, hard and painfully so. I’m sorry, okay? It happened one way or another and now you’re the one consuming my thoughts and dreams. I care for you and love you so deeply, it hurts me to stay away from you. But I did what’s best and will continue doing so.” He rambled, never noticing how you were still hung up on the first sentence he uttered.

But when you met his gaze once more, and saw the spark in his eyes when he looked at you, you wondered how you could’ve been so blind. “Now, please, leave before I do something both of us will regret.” Niko warned firmly.

You were stood there absolutely speechless, but came back to earth quickly, when you realised your boyfriend was waiting for you outside.

˗ˏˋcam cameron ´ˎ˗

“hi, it’s me, sextus.”

fics/one shots

dress

in which you and cam have hated each other for as long as you can remember. but what if that hatred wasn’t actually what you thought it was.

blurbs

head cannons

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

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

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

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

A gift given and so easily taken. 

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

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

Just that it hit someone. 

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

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

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

…It wasn’t always like that though. 

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

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

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

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

Or maybe it just took one to know one. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps the opposite reigned true as well though. 

Definitely not a crush. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He slightly shrugged, “You looked excited.” 

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

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

“Yn... I like you too.” 

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

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

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

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

He swore he’d stop. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

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

“It’s not your fault, Si-eun.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As he did too. 

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

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

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

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

here

right where you left me need a part two where reader got someone better and neteyam can only watch from afar as reader start her OWN future and now hes the one who is left behind in the past BDJDJEJDJEBFHJEJD

im crying my eyes out why would u do this to me😭😭😭😭😭

here you go !! i loved this idea smmmm tysmmm

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

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.

you are in love

synopsis there is absolutely no doubt in chad's mind that he is so very in love with you, as much as you are in love with him, and he can't help but silently tell you in the way he knows best

a/n you know when artists film one take music videos and just go with it? that is exactly what this fic is <3 (ps recommended song for this one is, you guessed it, you are in love by taylor swift you cannot tell me that this doesn't give off the same vibes, it absolutely does)

Chad couldn’t hear a single word anybody was saying. He hadn’t heard them in a long time and they had yet to notice. To be fair, though, he wasn’t really making an effort to listen. He was much too preoccupied with his current situation.

He’d gravitated to you instantly, as he always did. The two of you had walked through the door of Sam and Tara’s apartment and it took a good amount of effort to unwind his arms from around your waist. And even then it was only after promising you’d be right there in just one second.

You’d been able to see him sitting on the couch perfectly clear. Once every twenty seconds he’d glance into the kitchen, where you were talking to Anika, like clockwork. Whenever you happened to catch Chad’s eye he’d give you the biggest grin ever with this little sparkle in his eyes but never once did he rush you. He did, however, start getting just a little bit more antsy and you could tell.

It’d been over two hours since you sat down next to him and he hadn’t moved at all. Chad was convinced now more than ever that this right here with you was his happy place. He was curled into your side, body scrunched into a little ball, with his head on your shoulder. He wasn’t too sure how long it’d been since he had zoned out of the conversation, and frankly everything else around him, but he couldn’t be more content.

He held your hand closest to him in his lap. One of his hands held yours gently while the other wandered. His touch was light as a feather as he traced up and down your arm first before moving to your hand when he saw the glint of your rings under the living room light. He twisted one of them, a pretty little one with a sun in the middle, one he’d bought you not too long ago after you lost your previous one, around for a while before moving on to playing with your fingers.

All the while you kept talking. Chad listened as you laughed. He could feel the way your body shook and glanced up only to watch your head fall back and your eyes crinkle, to see the way you smiled and giggled through whatever you had to add to the conversation. He let out a gentle and completely lovestruck sigh, before smiling himself and resuming his previous motions.

He let go of your hand briefly only to turn it so your palm was facing up. His touch turned a little heavier as he traced the lines of your palm back and forth. He followed the way they criss crossed and rose and fell and got deeper and eventually he felt the way you shivered a bit. Chad smiled again.

You moved for the first time since you’d sat down and it was only to turn and look at Chad a little closer. There was no doubt in your mind he was beaming down at the way he was holding your hand with not a single thought in that head of his. You let go of him and his movements stopped completely as he watched you move.

Really you couldn’t help yourself. You hooked a finger under his chin, slowly and gently tilting his head up so he could look at you. The two of you were so close in proximity that you could both see and hear the way his breath hitched when you held him and started gliding your thumb across his cheekbone.

And then you dared to make a move. You shifted a bit, giving you slightly better access to lean in and kiss him once. Twice. Then three times, each one soft and barely there as you looked right at him and his reactions the whole time. He chased after your lips with his own when you pulled away but you shifted, just out of reach again. But still, you never let him go.

Instead you traced his bottom lip with the pad of your thumb before smiling at him and declaring, “You’re so pretty, you know that?”

Chad almost forgot where the two of you were. The living room lights and the sound of your shared friends still talking all around him tore him back down to reality. He didn’t move and he could almost swear he was able to feel your heart beating as fast as his.

His hand, the one that had been holding yours for so long, reached up to cover yours. It felt almost empty without the weight of your hand in his anymore. And then he let his eyes flicker. They shifted across your features, ones he had memorized long ago, before flashing down to your lips and lingering there for a second. He almost leaned in again and it took every bit of control to not give in, knowing exactly what he’d do if he did.

Instead Chad looked into your eyes again and let out another soft sigh, along with the involuntary echo of this little noise. One that made you grin wildly at him. He kept staring at you. He was lost for a second before finally remembering how to form the words he so badly wanted to say. “Can we go home now?”

There was no other option than to give in to his request, there really, really wasn’t. You kissed him one more time. Harder, deeper, and slower. One that told him exactly what he was in for. Exactly how you felt.

You stood as quickly as you’d kissed him and took a step backwards, pulling him from his dazed position on the couch. “Hey, I think we’re gonna head out for the night.”

You paid no mind at all to the shouts and playful jeers that came from behind you as you started pulling him out of the apartment with no hesitation. All you did was laugh one more time, ignoring their questions and taunts while shouting a quick goodbye before shutting the door. Frankly, you were already much too preoccupied with the thoughts of what was to come and the way Chad wrapped his arms around your waist again tightly, still absolutely refusing to let you go.

hey stephen- s. conklin

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

omfg pls don't kill me for that summary

s. conklin x reader

2nd person pov, WC: 496

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

You smile, handing him a ten over the counter.

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

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

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

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

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

“Like, Hey Stephen. Taylor Swift.”

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

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

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

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

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

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