Neteyam Was Born To La La La La La La But Was Forced To Ok Ok Ok Ok Ok :(

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

In denial rn

spiderman!ethan brain rot is real

the great war

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

pairing: peeta mellark x reader

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

requested !

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Quite the opposite actually.

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

Haymitch had promised him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˗ˏˋ finnick odair ´ˎ˗

“good thing we’re allies, right?”

fics/one shots

slut!

in which finnick takes care of you after you survive a blood rain. aka finnick being an absolute gentleman ;)

safe and sound

in which finnick shows up at your doorstep and vents his heart out.

new romantics

celebrating the anniversary of getting rid of the hunger games with your found family with a surprise for them in store as well.

evermore

even in the dark times, even when the pain seemed to be for evermore, the thought of you made that all go away.

blurbs

headcannons

Unspoken

Pairing: Thanos (Choi Su-Bong) x Reader

Summary: Su-Bong's back like nothing happened, is he here to stay?

Warnings: Brief mentions of drug use

Word Count: 2,121

Comments: Hey all! Just a quick question for anyone that reads this bit, in future parts would anyone care if I potentially changed Thanos/Su-Bong's hair colour? 👀

<- Part 5

The morning after your nightmare you’d woken to the faint rustle of movement in the next room. You moved quietly across your bedroom and peered around the doorway. Su-Bong was still there. 

You watched him sitting on the edge of your couch, rolling a cigarette. The paper crinkled between his fingers as a few bits of loose tobacco fell out onto his jeans. His head was tilted down, keeping all his attention on the task at hand.

You had expected him to be gone, you didn’t dare move in case this was some illusion your brain had conjured to comfort you. You simply stood in the doorway, eyes wide as you watched him. 

Sensing your presence he asked, ‘sleep better?’ He didn’t take his attention away from the cigarette in his hands.

You shifted slightly, wondering how long he’d known you were stood there. ‘Urm, yeah,’ you replied, voice still laced with sleep. ‘Thank you for staying.’

He shrugged, finishing the roll up and sliding it behind his ear. ‘It’s nothing.’ 

But it wasn’t ‘nothing’.

The air between you was thick. Somewhere between tension and something softer. Like the aftermath of a storm that hadn’t fully passed. He still hadn’t looked at you, now opting to watch his own fingers tap absently against his knee.

You glanced at the clock on your wall and sighed. ‘I’ve got work soon, I should get ready.’

‘Kay,’ he said, stretching slightly before finally looking at you. ‘I’ll walk you there.’

Your eyes met for a brief moment, sending a shiver through you. His expression remained calm, but you could see he was still cautious, like he wasn’t completely sure where you two stood with each other anymore. Before you could read into it anymore, he looked away again, brushing the stray tobacco from his jeans.

You paused for a moment before turning back into your room and shutting the door behind you. As you pulled on your work clothes you felt overly aware of Su-Bong’s presence in the next room.  He’d never stayed the night before, it felt strangely domestic, too normal given everything that had recently happened.

By the time you stepped out ready to go, Su-bong was already standing and pulling on his hoodie. Without a word the two of you headed for your apartment door.

The walk to your work was quiet, neither of you spoke yet his presence was impossible to ignore. Every so often your arm would brush against his, you weren’t sure if it was intentional or just the way your steps fell naturally in sync.

You stole a quick glance at him, he seemed relaxed but there was something distant about the way his eyes flickered between the pavement and the street ahead.

It felt eerily similar to the last time he had walked you home. The same silence and internal struggle in your mind about whether you should say something. Though this time you had a feeling he was going through the same thing

As you neared the cafe Su-Bong asked ‘What time you finishing?’

‘Uh, I’ll be done at 5,’ you replied.

He gave a small nod but didn’t say anything else. His footsteps slowed as you approached the door. You turned to him, and there was that feeling again, the unspoken tension that darted between you.

You watched as he pulled his hoodie up, giving you a small tilt of his chin as a goodbye before turning and walking off down the street. You caught yourself watching him go, the unease spreading across your chest.

As you pushed the door to the cafe open you were surprised to find your boss already stood watching you walk in. She gave you that same knowing look as she crossed her arms.

‘He’s walking you to work now as well?’ A teasing edge in her voice that you couldn’t help but smile at.

‘It’s nothing,’ you said as you pulled off your coat. ‘He stayed on the couch last night.’

‘Mmhmm,’ she hummed.

You busied yourself tying your apron, trying to ignore the way your heart still felt unsteady from the morning.

‘Well whatever's going on there, I’m sure you two will figure it out soon.’ Your boss said before she turned and went back to the counter.

You hoped she was right, but more than anything you hoped that Su-Bong wasn’t going to just disappear from your life again.

Yet another one of your shifts was spent wondering about Su-Bong, it was becoming a habit now. 

Take an order, check your phone, serve some cake, check the clock, steam some milk, check outside. 

By the time your shift neared its end, rain had begun to fall outside. You watched it streak down the windows, washing away the last of your hope. He wasn’t gonna show up in this weather.

Accepting that, you slipped into the back to grab your things. As you slung your bag over your shoulder you heard your boss’s voice from the front of the cafe. 

‘Oh for goodness sake, you’ll be soaked through, come inside before you catch a cold.’ You smiled, it was no surprise hearing her fussing over someone like that, what did surprise you was what she said next.

‘You can just wait for her in here.’

Your breath caught. He was here, he hadn’t disappeared again. You quickly moved back into the cafe. And there he was. Su-Bong was stood near the entrance, his hair sticking down from the rain. 

You had to stifle a laugh at the sight of him standing stiffly, not knowing what to do with himself as your boss fussed over him, brushing droplets from his shoulders. She turned and reached for one of the umbrellas she kept by the door and thrust it towards him.

You lingered for a moment, watching the amusing scene unfold - him standing in a place that didn’t quite suit him being doted on like a stray someone had taken pity on.

Like he knew you were watching him, he looked up. Your eyes met, and you felt that same shiver from the morning. You didn’t have time to dwell on it as your boss was ushering you forward. 

‘Here,’ she gestured to the umbrella as you approached. ‘You two can share so you don’t get wet.’

You smiled and thanked her before turning back to Su-Bong. He was scratching the back of his head, still looking vaguely uncomfortable.

‘You ready to go?’ He asked.

‘Yeah,’ you stepped forward as he began to push the door open.

He headed out before you, opening the umbrella so you could step out under it too. 

The rain drummed against the umbrella, as the two of you began walking. You tried to not let your thoughts dwell on how close you were, how you could feel his warmth or how you could smell the faint scent of smoke that clung to his jacket. 

‘She like your mum or something?’ Su-Bong asked, nodding back toward the cafe.

You couldn’t help but laugh, ‘no she’s not my mum, she’s just like that with everyone.’

Su-Bong laughed too. ‘Could’ve fooled me, if we stayed any longer she’d be giving me a packed lunch and getting me to tuck my shirt in.’ 

You grinned, this was easy, this is how you two were supposed to be. The lighthearted conversation drifted between you, an easy back and forth that came naturally to the two of you. You talked about your day, a weird customer who insisted on paying in loose change, and about how your boss has been trying to convince you to take up knitting.

Su-Bong hummed in amusement. ‘She’s probably already knitting me a scarf.’

As your apartment building came into sight the conversation tapered off. The air between you was completely different from that morning, the tension was gone leaving you with the familiar comfort he usually brought.

‘You wanna get takeout señorita?’ And there it was. That nickname again, the one you hadn’t heard in nearly a week at this point. The one that had you forgetting everything that happened.

A grin tugged at your lips as you pushed open the door. ‘Yeah I’d like that, but you’re paying.’

Things between you and Su-Bong settled into a new normal. There was still that unspoken cloud hanging over you both, but neither of you acknowledged it. Opting to choose the easy route. 

He never said anything about the four days of silence, never explained why he chose to answer you in the middle of the night and you never asked. But in his own way, it seemed like he was trying to make up for it.

You’d catch him clearing the dishes after dinner, or replacing the flickering bulb in your lamp without a word. If you dropped something, he was bending down to get it before it even hit the floor. He even attempted to fix your wobbley coffee table, he did a pretty good job even if he managed to leave it with a slight lean. 

He never made a big deal out of any of it, never tried to get a thanks out of you. But you understood, this was his way of apologising. And, for now, that was enough.  

Although every time he did something it became harder and harder to ignore the growing warmth in your chest. It was the way he did them, casually, like it was the simplest thing in the world. It was getting harder to pretend your feelings weren’t shifting, harder to ignore the way you found yourself looking at him when he wasn’t paying attention, harder to push down the thought that maybe he felt it too.

But then you’d remember that night.

The dazed, half lidded way he’d looked at you. How you’d wanted to give in to him, to let him pull you close. You kept telling yourself he hadn’t meant it, that it was just the high talking. Yet, you couldn’t quite shake the hope that it had come from somewhere real.

So you never said anything, letting that warmth settle in your chest without giving it a name. Because if you asked, if you pushed, he might disappear again. And you weren’t ready for that.

One evening whilst he was sprawled out across your couch as you watched TV, he said something that made your heart lift.

‘I’ve written some new songs recently,’ he said offhandedly like he expected you to brush past it.

You perked up at his words, he never spoke about his music career. For a split second all you could do was look at him. You’d heard what people had said in the games about him. How his career had started to slip, how he was forgetting the lyrics to his own songs. You’d never mentioned it, not sure if it was something he’d want to go back to.

‘Wait, really?’ You managed to say as you shifted towards him.

He kept his eyes on the TV but nodded. ‘Yeah, got a gig in a couple of days. Nothing big though.’

Your chest tightened, because you knew it was a big deal even if he was acting like it wasn’t, he was trying again. ‘Su-Bong, that's amazing!’

He shrugged but you caught the smile tugging at his lips. ‘It’s just a little set, nothing like what I used to do, need something to get me started again you know?’

‘I’m sure the world is ready to hear some new Thanos material,’ you wiggled your eyebrows at him. 

Su-Bong didn’t laugh, his expression shifted subtly, but still enough for you to notice. He exhaled slowly before his eyes flickered to you. 

‘I’m not using that name anymore,’ he said simply.

That caught you off guard, he was letting go of something so big, something that had defined him, and he was saying it like it was something so simple. ‘Seriously?’

‘Doesn’t feel right anymore,’ he gave a small shrug.

You nodded slowly, it made sense. Maybe this was his way of starting over properly, like he was getting rid of a piece that no longer fit. You could tell there was something else he wanted to say so you remained quiet, giving him the time to think it through. 

‘Anyways, if you’re not busy you could come if you want?’ He cleared his throat, was he nervous? ‘It’s probably not your kinda scene but y’know, if you’re not busy you could.’

The way he danced through the words made your chest ache, he was really trying to act like this whole thing wasn’t important. But you could read between the lines - he wanted you there. And there was no way in hell you were gonna say no.

-> Part 7 Coming Soon Series Masterlist

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

CHAIN OF ARMOUR | DAE-HO (PLAYER 388)

pairing: gentle!dae-ho x reader

warnings: angsty fluff, established relationship, allusion to sexual harassment, protector!dae-ho, fear, comfort, alliance (young-il, gi-hun, jung-bae), fatherly figure, jung-bae/dae-ho military roleplay.

2.3k words

an: this might be my favourite piece i’ve written for some time. it’s lengthier, so sweet it’ll melt your heart (it melted mine!), and say hello to the other characters for me would you? feedback and requests are always welcomed. enjoy! <3

“players, please prepare for bed. you have ten minutes until lights out.”

there was something in the air. something ugly and perverse, and you saw it every time you glanced to the other side of the hall. every time you made eye contact with a man. the hunger in their gaze wasn’t for food, but for you. maybe to the other women around you, too, but with the amount of eyes settling on you, it felt personal. targeted.

the longer you sat silent in the company of your group, the more you seemed to focus on the unease growing in your stomach. the more you seemed to catch the occasional word from the other side of the room. pretty girl, they said without enough worry about being discreet. so little, they whispered.

it’s only when you caught parts of their plans for you that the heat drained from your body, along with any semblance of confidence that you’d had earlier of surviving the night.

but maybe survival isn’t what you wanted if they did get ahold of you. maybe death is what you were really after. the guards, always eager to pull the triggers of their big black guns, but would they grant you that mercy? would they interfere with games? with the immorality threatening you from what felt like every corner?

the call of your name was gentle.

you glanced up and caught dae-ho’s soft eyes. the warmth returned so quickly to your body, you wondered if the sun had been made obsolete.

he sat opposite you on the benches your group settled around, lunch trays strewn messily over the floor as you finished up your supper.

“yes?” you replied, but the shakiness of your voice was evident even through one word.

dae-ho glanced down at your hand and you followed his gaze. your carton of milk a crumpled mess, squished to the point that milk oozed out the hole your straw poked through. you gasped at the milk trickling down your wrist, and quickly wiped your skin with the sleeve of your jacket.

he watched you with a frown, concern knitting his brows together. “are you alright?” he asked, the softness of his words tinged with the worry bubbling in his chest.

you nodded, too quickly to quash his suspicion, and the squeak of your “yes!” was the icing on the cake.

dae-ho sighed and pushed himself to his feet, crossing the small distance between you to settle at your side. he wordlessly used the sleeve of his own jacket to wipe up droplets of milk you hadn’t even realised had dropped onto the thighs of your sweatpants.

“you don’t need to worry,” he said quietly, close enough for only you to hear. he lifted the edge of his jacket to your face and tilted your head to wipe up a little trickle of milk from you neck. “how hard were you squeezing?” he gasped quietly, brushing one final drop from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

you sheepishly lowered your head. he pressed his thigh against yours, a silent show of support, and his way of encouraging you to meet his gaze once more. you did, and nearly flinched at the worry that brought out the tiny fine lines in his forehead.

“i mean it,” he repeated. “i won’t let anything happen to you. not now, not ever.”

you wanted to believe him. you wanted to believe he could fight off all those men, all those who wished you harm. but he was only one man, and no matter how mighty and brave, no matter how hard he would fight for you, you knew he wasn’t a superhero. he couldn’t beat impossible odds, no matter how hard he would try to.

suddenly that feeling gnawed at your stomach again. you wanted to leap into dae-ho’s arms, let him shield you from the dark, scary world. the monsters you feared would get bold in the dark. but you couldn’t. you could only glance back across the hall, at the hungry gazes stuck on you like an angry, unrelenting wasp.

dae-ho called your name again, but this time you couldn’t look up. he repeated it, his hand lifting to catch you cheek, trying to block your view of the men. trying to refocus your attention to him, to the man who would stretch and tear himself into three, five, seven, however many bodies he needed to become your hero.

but it was jung-bae who got through to you. the short and stout man who warmly took you under his wing, who accepted you as a little chick in his bird nest, and who gave you a father figure in a place that felt far from home.

“you’re trembling like a leaf!” he gasped, his own hands plucking up yours, before leaning in closer to examine your face. he caught your chin in his fingers. “what is it, chicken? what’s bringing you such fright?”

his comfort drew you closer, and you shifted closer until your head fell against his shoulder. “i’m worried… about tonight,” you said, sneaking a nervous glance to the other side of the room.

the o’s. although they matched the numbers on your side, their presence was twice as ominous, and it would only be worse under the veil of darkness fast approaching. the tension slowly spread through your muscles, and suddenly it was no longer just your hands shaking. legs, arms, anything that could contract, trembling as you pictured the men across the room as only silhouettes. your thigh bumped into dae-ho’s, and he caught it with one of his big hands, holding it flush against his. he traced patterns over the cotton of your sweatpants.

but you were only growing more tense.

jung-bae gasped, pulling his hands from yours. “ow!” he cried, rubbing soothing circles into the palms of his hands, looking to you with surprise. “such strength in such a little girl!” he said, and you caught a glimmer of playfulness in his wide eyes.

your head sank sheepishly. “sorry, sir,” you apologised.

“and yet, the manners of a princess!” he exclaimed, approval rife in taking your hand to squeeze. he lifted it, shaking it along as he said, “a princess has no reason to fear with her noble guards around to protect her.”

you held his gaze and tried to smile, tried to believe him, tried not to think about the hungry gazes harassing you from the other side of the room. you couldn’t help look up, see the danger targeted right at you in the lick of lips, in the sly grins, and suddenly the shaking in your hands vibrated through jung-bae’s body.

“young-il!” suddenly your hand was swept in the direction of your newest ally, and jung-bae shook it as he said, “strong, clever, fierce.”

young-il nodded firmly, a confident smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he held your gaze, but you were quickly locking eyes with gi-hun as jung-bae warmly said, “gi-hun! loyal, determined, kind.”

the warmth of his eyes was all the convincing you needed, but gi-hun still reached out to squeeze your shoulder reassuringly. that’s the kind of man he was.

“jung-bae,” jung-bae said of himself, slapping your hand into his chest this time. “marine,” he said, lifting his other arm into a flex of his bicep, and while you saw no activation in the muscle, somehow it didn’t matter. it was the pride in his eyes, the conviction in his tone as he said, “wise as time,“ and you believed him. “and handsome as brad pitt.”

the widening of your eyes preceded your surprised giggle, but you couldn’t cover you mouth in time to suppress it.

jung-bae’s eyes blew wide again. “she laughs!” he accuses in mock disbelief, glancing between the other men in your group, before settling back on you. “many women say jung-bae is the one that got away!” he insists, but only grins wider as you stifle more of your little giggles.

your hand still in his thrown around again as he pretends to take offence, but he soon eases into calmness again, before leaning in closer.

“don’t forget, there are two marines here,” he said quietly, and you barely caught the flash of mischief in his eyes before he suddenly straightened his back, snapping his other hand into a click as he commanded “dae-ho!” with such authority that he jumped immediately to attention.

“yes, sir!” he shouted back, unflinching as his chopsticks crashed and clanged on the hard floor under his feet.

jung-bae’s chest swelled with approval. “are you afraid?!” he commanded.

“no, sir!”

“of men?”

“no, sir!”

“of the dark?”

“no, sir!”

you caught the sly smirk jung-bae shot you, before asking, “of jung-bae?”

“no, sir!”

his face dropped into a scowl, and he swatted a hand to the side of dae-ho’s shoulder, landing a blow right against the ink of his marine tattoo. dae-ho didn’t even flinch, back still straight and standing tall, his eyes fixed ahead with determination.

jung-bae asked one final question of him. “what of the men, the oh’s, behind you?”

a beat is not skipped when dae-ho sharply insisted, “no, sir!”

jung-bae slowly turned back to face you, a warm confidence as he said, “the dark is frightening. it’s where monsters live, where evil lurks. but what can defeat the dark?” he asked, leaning back ever so slightly to let you ponder, inviting you to look at the three other men in your alliance. each one stared back warm, kind, determined, and when jung-bae leant back in, you understood him when all he gently said is “light.”

you couldn’t seem to look away as dae-ho held your gaze, the quiet confidence radiating from his kind eyes, and suddenly the tension in your muscles faded away. the trembling of your hands subsided, and you weren’t gripping onto jung-bae’s hand so tightly.

dae-ho offered you sincerity when he promised, “they’ll have to get past us to get to you,” he said. “through me.”

he offered his hand out, and jung-bae lifted your hand to meet dae-ho’s. you took it, fingers interlocking as he gently but effortlessly pulled you up from the bench. he rested your entwined hands against his chest, leaning down to press a kiss to your skin. he gazed down into your eyes.

“i would set all the money in the world on fire to keep you safe,” he said so gently, you swore your knees would give out. “let me be your light,” he referenced jung-bae, nodding a head toward the cluster of your bunks. “stay with me tonight, in my bunk.”

you didn’t need to think about it. “please,” you whispered, holding onto his hands tighter.

the corners of his lips stretched into a smile softer than his breath on your knuckles as he kissed your hands again.

he climbed up the benches towards the bunks, stopping patiently after each step to turn and help you up. your legs were shorter than his, and he didn’t want to risk you catching your knee on a sharp corner and getting a bruise. but when you got to the ladder of his bunk, he dropped your hand to take purchase on your hips, lifting you with ease up the first few rungs.

he followed after you, glancing up and holding a hand out just in case you lost your footing.

“careful,” he warned as you approached the shelf of his bunk, rushing up the last few steps just to reach out and cover the sharp corner of the bunk above. you ducked your head under it, and his hand dropped to your lower back to help guide you in.

he joined you on the thin mattress after you settled down.

“are you cold?” he asked, fingers catching the zip of his jacket, waiting for your command.

“a little,” you admitted, but stopped him from declothing himself by placing a hand over the zipper on his chest. you lifted your eyes to find his. “can you lay with me? please.”

dae-ho’s gaze softened. “yeah,” he breathed gently, and you wondered where his voice had gone. he slowly lowered himself onto his back, one arm spreading out for you to curl up to his side. when you did, he closed his arm around your body and secured you in place. to him.

you nuzzled into his side. everything about him was so safe, and you wondered if it was the lingering scent of his shampoo or his gentle breathing that made your eyes heavy.

he held you, gentle but firm, while the others in your group climbed and settled into the surrounding bunks. the presence was suffocating in the best way. all around you, a friendly face, a willingness to shield you from danger, and for once in your life, a selection of men you could count on.

it dawned on you, like this, that jung-bae was right. the ease in your chest came down to the shield around you, the men willing to protect you for no reward, for no recognition. everything to gain by letting you get eliminated in the dark of night, and everything to lose by letting you live. but yet, they chose the latter. they chose to guard you. their princess.

and even as the lights turned out, when the shadows played tricks on your eyes, your hands didn’t tremble. they laced with dae-ho’s, who pulled you in closer, lips pressing against yours in a silent promise.

“i’ll see you in the morning,” he whispered.

as the heaviness in your eyelids became too much to fight off any longer, you took one last moment to savour the warmth radiating from his body. only then, with your head in his chest, the chill leaving your body, did you realise that yes, so long as dae-ho was here, the sun was obsolete.

i could sleep easy in dae-ho’s arms. please like, comment, reblog. love <3

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⠀⠀ ⠀ཾ ༚ 20/20 VISION

lalala! ethan landry x okokok! reader

#SYNOPSIS— based off of see you again by tyler the creater & kali uchis; you have no gag reflex, ethan tells a sex joke, and ethan takes a leap of faith.

#CONTAINS— best friends to lovers, mutual pining, jealousy, emetophobia, fluff

#AUTHORSNOTE— i've been wanting to write fluff lately so.. here you go xx

your unofficial designated spot in the carpenter sisters' apartment was their armchair in their living room.

you had a list of reasons why; one, it meant more space. you could stretch your legs, not worry about feeling someone's feet near your legs, and you could have your own blanket. all somewhat selfish reasons, but you loved your space. two, it had the perfect angle towards the t.v. that gave you the best spot in the living room to watch it without worrying about discomfort.

which was why you would've been mildly perturbed that someone was standing between you and the t.v. the only difference was that it wasn't just someone; it was someone who rambled too often, who had no sense of personal space while also being hyper aware of it, and who was a flurry of random facts (which wouldn't help him at all, unless someone held a gun to his head and told him to name and point at every country’s capital in the world).

"i've done it," ethan announced to you, his signature toothy smile seemingly more victorious as he looked down at where you were snuggled up on the couch. his well manicured nails (he asked you to do them once, and who were you to deny your best friend?) held his laptop, the screen facing his chest.

"aren't you supposed to be studying?" you asked him with a small tilt of your head, glancing at where the rest of the group was. finals week was beating everyone up, and you could briefly see mindy and chad chugging a redbull at the same time while tara timed them, before you turned back to your best friend.

"i gave up."

"you need to study."

"you gave up, too!" ethan looked down at the huge blanket that you hogged for yourself, not even thinking twice before he was climbing in next to you.

"ow— ethan!" you groaned, feeling him step on your leg.

"'scuse me!" ethan forced himself under the blanket you were snuggled under, making you share your beloved armchair with him before he sighed contentedly. "this is comfortable! maybe i should share this seat with you more often!" he said with a bright grin, making you sigh reluctantly. "i mean if you don't want to then it's fine too!" ethan added hurriedly with wide eyes.

"i was just saying that i wouldn't mind sharing with you because usually you sit alone— which i know you prefer, you've told me so many times and i get it! i really do! but i wouldn't mind sitting with you to keep you company because i really like being with you— around you. your presence. yeah, that." ethan rambled, finishing his string of words with a sheepish smile, cheeks flaring a bit red. "i'm sorry for rambling." he added quietly.

your usually tired eyes softened at that. he had always been insecure of how much he talked, you knew that better than anyone. "i've told you before, e, i don't mind. i like listening to you," you hummed, a downturned smile on your lips. "i like your presence too. and i guess i don't mind sharing my seat with you."

ethan's cheeks flared red at your casual words. you had a way of speaking so calmly, as though all your words were chosen well. in a way, he was a bit jealous.

"you had something to tell me, yeah?" you asked him softly, bringing him back on track.

"oh, right!" ethan showed you his laptop, setting it up on your legs. it was a notion list, color coordinated and everything, with an entire list of shows and movies you remember only briefly mentioning to him. "i made this list—"

"just now? instead of studying?"

"yes! so basically, it has a section where we can rate it after we watch it, and it's all organized by what we want to watch the most and what we need to finish!" ethan scrolled down the list, practically buzzing with excitement (and the cold brew he drank earlier).

"see? i know that i have a whole essay to do but i can do it later—" ethan said, waving it off with his hand. "because i know you said you would do it but i got impatient and did it instead! and look—" he showed you the wide variety of colors for every row. "they're color coordinated! and here's how i think the rating system should go—"

you had watched ethan talk the entire time he rambled, your usually tired and indifferent eyes softening when you listened to him speak. he talked fast— too fast for some people, but you liked that about him—but the way he rambled showed how passionate he was about different topics, because ethan only rambled when he cared.

it showed how much he appreciated what he was talking about. and ever time his cadence picked up and his words became jumbled and he began interrupting himself, you could see how ethan's brown eyes would shine with excitement. you could see how he began incorporating his hands to his words, how his lips tilted up when he talked.

you were so engrossed in ethan's explanation of the movie and t.v. show list that you failed to notice your friends staring at you from the dining table.

"they are disgustingly cute," tara said with a sigh.

"and disgustingly oblivious," mindy grumbled, clicking her pen over and over. "with how smart the both of them are, i'm surprised they haven't picked up on the clues." she turned to chad, who was sulking after losing the redbull chugging competition against her. "have you asked ethan about it yet? you're our in on this, chad!"

chad groaned as mindy nudged him with her shoulder. "i did. he didn't even respond. it's crazy how he can avoid conversations, you know."

you didn't like parties. not as much as your friends did— you were usually the designated driver or the friend that was always sober enough to take care of their friends, which you didn't mind. it was the socializing part that you minded.

you socialized okay, but you often just ended up listening to other people rather than talking. listening was more your style, but you were only a little awkward when it came to talking to complete (and possibly intoxicated) strangers at parties. you stuck with your group of friends and very rarely strayed away.

but ethan was the designated sober friend this time around, so maybe that would change.

three loud knocks to your dorm room made you go and open it, coming eye to eye with ethan. "you're walking me there?" you asked with a knowing smile, making the boy nod eagerly.

"yup! chad's walking with tara and mindy's going with anika, so that leaves you and me." ethan grinned at you teasingly. "why, you're getting tired of me already?"

"no," you hummed, closing your dorm room behind you as the both of you began to walk down the hall. "you're really not drinking tonight, huh?"

"nope!" ethan replied, popping the 'p'. "after i threw up all over sam that one time we drank at the apartment, and then i threw up on you right after, i told myself that i'd hold back on it."

you wrinkled your nose at the memory. "how responsible of you."

"i know, right?" ethan said with a proud smile. "but because i threw up on you that time, i give you full permission to throw up on me this time."

"i'm not gonna be that drunk."

that was a lie.

to say that your friends were shocked to see you become a more extraverted person after drinking would be an understatement. they were used to you observing the group and contributing to conversations with sarcastic comments, dry humor, and dark jokes that are often made much too soon. so to see you take a shot with tara and squeal happily with her (true friend solidarity; she was as drunk as you were) was completely out of the ordinary.

"i'm gonna go find chad!" tara yelled over the music, making you nod happily and watch her leave. adrenaline and excitement began to thrum through your body stronger, and your first thought was to share it with your favorite person. you began to walk around, searching for ethan, before you bumped into a chest.

"oh, shit! i'm so sorry," the guy laughed, making you send him an apologetic smile.

"it's okay!" you said, taking in his black hair and his brown eyes (that only reminded you of ethan). "i'm y/n!"

the guy smiled at you, offering his hand out. "jaden!" he seemed to be as intoxicated as you were, his steps wobbling slightly as you shook his hand. "do you, uh, wanna dance?"

"hey, where's y/n?" ethan asked tara as she passed him, making her look back towards the drinks table.

"she should just be around where the drinks are.." tara's voice trailed off when her eyes landed on you not too far away. your arms were around a guy's neck— was that jaden from her philosophy lecture? —as you swayed with him to the music. you seemed to be having a good time, the alcohol making you lighthearted as you sang with whatever song was playing through the speakers. "there she is!"

when ethan saw you, his heart fell. you looked so beautiful under the multicolored lights, your hair perfectly styled and your clothes fitting you perfectly as you danced with someone who wasn't him. your smile— your genuine one, ethan noted with his chest aching, the one that made your eyes crinkle and your smile lopsided —was pointed towards someone who wasn't him.

jealousy brewed in his chest along with the heartache, ethan's jaw clenching as he stared at you and the random guy. but he didn't step in. he didn't pull you away and declare his feelings for you, because at the end of the night, you were happy. content as you danced with someone who wasn't ethan at all.

chad came up next to tara, his arm over her shoulders as he steadied her. "hey man, where's y/n?" he asked, still fairly sober than everyone as he had only taken one shot.

"she's doing fine," ethan said, his voice monotone as he continued staring at you. it was unfair how beautiful you looked while you unknowingly broke his heart with every laugh and every flirtatious smile you sent towards your dance partner.

"what?" chad looked in the direction ethan was staring, his face falling when he saw you and jaden. easily connecting the dots, he looked at ethan empathetically. "fuck. dude, i'm sorry."

"it's okay, really," ethan said with a tight lipped smile. but he couldn't keep his eyes off of you and him, the fact that you looked so happy pulling at his chest because he wanted you to be happy with him. he wanted you to look at him the way you looked at that random stranger.

and finally, as you did a twirl into jaden’s arms, you made eye contact with ethan. oblivious to the way his jaw clenched and his eyes lost the spark they usually had, you gently pulled yourself out of jaden's arms. your steps were wobbly, and you nearly crashed into ethan's chest when you finally walked up to him. ethan's arms went to steady you easily.

"ethan, i feel like throwing up," you murmured, and ethan nodded in understanding, worry taking over his jealousy.

"okay, let's get you to the bathroom, okay?" ethan said softly, pulling you close to him as he guided you to the bathroom. he knocked on the door, thankful no one responded, before he opened it for you. he locked the door behind the both of you as you made a beeline for the toilet, grabbing the side of it as you readied yourself to throw up.

but nothing came out.

“go on!” ethan encouraged you, motioning to the toilet. but instead, you looked up at him warily.

“do i have to?”

“yes?” ethan gaped at you, motioning to the toilet again. “just go ahead! nothing to fear!”

“i don’t want to.”

“c’mon, y/n, why not?” ethan whined, making you groan as you stopped yourself from throwing up yet again.

“i have emetophobia, asshole,” you muttered, gently pushing his arm. “fear of throwing up? and,” you messily pushed some of your hair away from your face. “i have no gag reflex.”

“what the hell?” ethan crinkled his nose, blushing furiously as he looked at you in shock. you were honest, sure but never this honest. “i could’ve gone my whole life without knowing that.”

“are you sure?”

“what?” ethan said quickly, eyes wider than ever as he stared at you as you snorted in amusement. “you’re kidding.”

“maybe.”

“maybe?” he swallowed thickly, shutting his eyes and pinching his nose bridge. “oh god, you definitely have to throw up now.”

“watch this.” you took two of your fingers and stuffed them all the way to the back of your throat, smiling triumphantly as you showed ethan your lack of a gag reflex.

ethan could only watch in horror and exasperation. “y/n, i didn’t need proof. i already believed you.” he took some squares of toilet paper before offering it to you.

“i told you so,” you hummed, pulling your saliva covered finger out of your mouth and wiping them on the toilet paper. there was a beat of silence before ethan coughed, his cheeks and ears still burning red.

“can i make a joke?”

“of course you can.”

“it’s a, uh,” ethan cleared his throat, avoiding your intent gaze, “sex joke.”

“even better.” you situated yourself next to the toilet, still very much feeling like you were gonna hurl at any given moment.

ethan sat next to you, clearing his throat again. “i know one way we can test your gag reflex,” he stated, almost ashamed at his own joke.

you chuckled at that, the horrible joke making a you sway a bit with laughter before the sudden motion sickness got to you. without another word, you threw up into the toilet. all thanks to ethan’s horrible sex joke.

he immediately reached over to move some of your hair. you continued retching into the toilet, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "i hate drinking," you grumbled as you laid your forehead on your arm, eyes watery from throwing up. immediately as you got the words out, you threw up again.

"i know, i know.. but i know you're gonna end up drinking again," ethan teased softly, making your back heave as you managed a laugh, only for it to be interrupted by you throwing up again. "it's okay, let it all out." he couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped his lips. “i can’t believe a sex joke made you throw up.”

and you almost laughed again if you didn’t throw up even more.

the sound of the party died into the background as ethan sat next to you on the ground. your head was laying on your arm, which was on the toilet seat. you were still intoxicated, and the world was still spinning, but you could see the obvious turmoil on ethan's face. you poked his arm. "what's wrong?"

"what?" ethan said, snapping out of his daze to send you a tight lipped smile. "nothing's wrong."

"liar."

"i'm not!"

"i know you better than that, e," you murmured, half lidded eyes staring at him. you had thrown up most of your alcohol, and while you were still inebriated, you felt a lot more clear headed than earlier. “what's wrong?"

ethan looked at you, eyes flashing with hurt as he pictured you again dancing with someone else. "do you really want to know?" he asked you, and you nodded. even while drunk, you opted to listen.

"you looked beautiful when you were dancing," ethan began, managing a soft smile, "i don't think i've ever seen you like that. it's not a bad thing or a good thing, but it's a new thing, y'know?" he sighed. "you dance really well, i'm surprised you haven't told me," a genuine smile appeared on his face when he heard you laugh quietly. "and your laugh.. i swear i would listen to it over whatever horrible music is playing right now."

ethan looked at you, taking in your obviously roughed up and intoxicated form. but somehow, even with slightly messy hair and most of your make-up rubbed off and with your breath smelling only a little bit like puke, you still looked beautiful. it was enough to make someone who talked as much as him to go quiet in awe.

"but when you laughed, and when you smiled,” ethan said slowly, taking in heavy breaths with every word. fear thrummed through his body, mingling with the nervousness as he twiddled with his fingers anxiously. to continue on would be to admit everything. to admit how he felt, the thoughts he had been having about you, everything. and to admit it to you would be to risk losing a friendship and one of the most important people in his life.

“.. you weren’t smiling or laughing at me. and i hated that.”

confusion spread over your face before realization hit your eyes. “oh.” and oh, it suddenly all made sense. why ethan was so bothered, why you were so willing to listen to one person speak for forever as long as it was them, why even as you danced with another, something was off because he wasn’t ethan. he wasn’t your best friend.

“you don’t have to say anything,” ethan mumbled, completely misinterpreting your realization for rejection. his eyes watered slightly as he avoided your gaze. “it’s been going on for a while now, and i get it if you don’t feel the same! i really do, it’s just,” he sighed shakily, “i don’t want to lose you—”

“ethan—”

“i was completely willing to just shut up about how i felt as long as that meant i could still have you in my life, y/n,” ethan said, looking into your eyes earnestly. “and i thought i could keep it under wraps but i have to tell you at least once because—”

“i love you.”

“what?” ethan blinked, making you smile, your head still resting on your arm.

“i love you, ethan.”

a toothy smile spread over his face at that, his shoulders relaxing as he searched your face for any doubt. “are you— are you sure?”

“i wouldn’t say it if i wasn’t,” you murmured softly as you raised your head, making ethan laugh in relief.

“holy shit— i love you too.” ethan said, leaning forward, only for you to stop him.

“e, i might throw up on you if you kiss me.”

“do you think i care?”

A Little Salt, A Lotta Flirt - Chunkz

Summary: You're a special guest in ChefAsylum where you first met Darkest, Harry, and Chunkz.

Pairing: Chunkz x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Masterlist

You smile nervously at the camera as you step into the Footasylum kitchen. Your apron is tied, your ingredients are prepped, and your confidence is hanging on by a single, overcooked spaghetti strand.

You glance to the left.

Harry Pinero. Suave, tall, and he looks like he knows where the camera is at all times.

To the right?

Darkest. Mischievous smile, already sipping juice like he knows he's about to roast you within an inch of your life.

And in the middle...

Chunkz

May God have mercy on your soul.

He's smiling, dimples on full display, eyes locked on you like you're the actual main course. You immediately forget how to stand. 

Do legs bend? 

Are knees supposed to do this? 

Is this blood rushing to your face? 

Or did you just catch fire from the way he looked at you?

"Hi" You said.

Hi??? 

That's all you got???

Not "Hope you're hungry" or "Let's cook up some chemistry"?? 

Nah, just hi????

He leans back in his seat, eyes not leaving you for a second.

"You're looking like a whole Michelin star already" Chunkz said, voice smoother than the butter they have in store

Instant combustion.

You laugh awkwardly, a weird wheeze-cough hybrid that should honestly disqualify you from public life.

The kitchen lights were a little too bright. The cameras a little too close. Your nerves? Absolutely fried. You adjusted your clothes again for the third time, fidgeting with the strings like it was gonna save you.

As the camera started rolling, you heard laughter, the easy kind, the kind you always wished you could blend into.

And then, you heard him.

Chunkz's laugh, the very same rich, effortless, warm laugh. Like it belonged somewhere safe. Somewhere soft.

You peeked over your shoulder and instantly caught his eye. He was already looking at you. 

Not in a polite way. Not in a "Oh cool, new person" way. In a slow head-to-toe, bite-the-bottom-lip, lean-back-in-his-chair-because-he's-enjoying-the-view kinda way.

You looked away first. Obviously. You weren't built to survive that eye contact because what the fuck was that seriously? Who holds that eye contact for long and look really nonchalant about it like it was something normal for him?

"Alright! Today's special chef" Harry announced, gesturing to you. 

"--is gonna be cooking for these three legends!" Harry added.

Harry Pinero clapped once followed by Darkest and Chunkz beside him, sarcastic and loud. 

"Hope you can cook, man. Otherwise, this is gonna be a hostile environment" Harry said.

"Don't watch him. Just make sure my plate's bigger than his" Darkest said as he smiled over his drink. 

And Chunkz?

Chunkz didn't say anything at first.

Just gave you that slow, lopsided grin.

"You ready for me, yeah?" Chunkz said, calmly.

You blinked, having a moment of malfunctioning.

For you?

FOR YOU???

"What? I mean not specifically you" You said, pretending to focus on the cutting board.

"Of course" Chunkz said, chuckled under his breath. 

You fucked up the general knowledge question but somehow got a decent ingredients and you got to work, pretending not to feel the heat of three sets of eyes following every move you made.

The first five minutes were manageable. Until the knife slipped and a tomato went flying across the counter. To be fair, the knife was horror.

You gasped. Harry leaned over to Darkest, stage-whispering loud enough for everyone to hear.

"That tomato just filed for early retirement" Harry said, looking offended like he was the tomato itself.

Darkest choked on his water and Chunkz was just laughing, forehead resting against his hand like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Don't worry" Chunkz said, his voice way too soft for this chaotic environment. 

"Everyone needs a little warming up" Chunkz added.

And then, looking you dead in the eye.

"I'm patient. So, take your time, beautiful" Chunkz said.

"Yeah, lost your mind" Darkest said next to him as he laughed.

You nearly dropped the knife next.

You pretend to be unbothered. Cool. Chill. Unfazed but your hands are shaking like you're about to defuse a bomb instead of stirring curry.

"Why you holding the spoon like that? It's not a microphone" Darkest said as he clocked it immediately.

"They're singing for help" Harry said, without missing a beat. 

You try to flip them off with your eyes. Doesn't work.

"Don't worry, I got you. I'll be your sous chef... or your husband. Whichever works" Chunkz  said softly and grins. 

WHO ALLOWED HIM TO SAY THAT???

"Oh my god, he's actually moving mad" Harry said, gasping dramatically as he low-key smacked Darkest.

You dropped the spoon, It clangs like it's exposing you.

You are now operating on auto-pilot. You can feel him watching as you cook, which is fantastic because nothing says sexy like stress-sweating while chopping onions.

Then he appears next to you. Like... right next to you.

Did he teleport?? 

How did he get there so fast?? 

When did the laws of physics stop applying to him??

"Need a hand?" he asked, moving to your side without waiting for an answer. His shoulder brushed yours, just enough for you to feel the heat.

You tried to focus on the pan, you tried so hard.

Sir.

Sir, you might need a therapy.

"That smells nice" Chunkz murmurs, eyes flicking to your face.

"And the food's decent too" Chunkz added as he leaned down, pretending to inspect your work.

"Seasoning's good" Chunkz said lowly, so only you could hear.

"But you're looking better" Chunkz added.

You whipped your head around to glare at him, scandalized but he was already smirking, knowing exactly what he was doing.

HE NEEDS TO BE STOPPED.

YOU ARE BLUSHING SO HARD YOU MIGHT COOK YOURSELF.

Darkest caught it.

"God forbid you let them cook in peace, bruv" Darkest called out.

"Man's tryna be the side dish" Darkest added with a laugh.

"Don't worry about me, man" Chunkz said with a smug smile.

When you finally started putting the dish together. Slightly less clumsily because your inner monologue has officially left the building.

When the food was finally plated, you wiped your hands on your apron, heart hammering.

Eventually, food gets made. Somehow.

Plated, served, looking halfway edible.

You step back, breathing like you just ran a marathon.

This was it, judgement day.

Darkest took the first bite. Chewed thoughtfully.

"Okay... okay..." Darkest said, nodding slowly. 

"This is edible, I'm genuinely shocked" Darkest added.

"Don't even try it, this is nice" Harry said as he shoved him playfully. 

They argued for a bit, in the way guys do when they don't know how to give real compliments.

But Chunkz? Chunkz just watched you, swirling his fork lazily through his food without taking a bite yet.

You raised an eyebrow.

"You scared?" You teased, finally feeling a little bit brave.

Chunkz grinned.

"Nah" Chunkz said, leaning forward on his elbows, gaze heavy. 

"Just savoring the view before I tuck in" Chunkz added.

You blinked.

"Oh no, get him a leash" Darkest said as he coughed violently into his napkin. 

"Signing his life away, mad" Harry said as he just shook his head, pretending to fill out imaginary marriage papers on his plate. 

Chunkz just stared at you, fork swirling dramatically through the rice.

"I haven't even tried it yet" Chunkz said.

"I'm still full from watching you all day" Chunkz added.

EXCUSE. ME.

You choked on air. 

"Someone take his mic, man" Darkest mutters 

"Man's flirting like he's trying to get tax benefits" Harry said as he grabs his phone like he's live-tweeting. 

Chunkz shrugs, still looking at you.

"I'm just saying" Chunkz said, softer now. 

"You walk into the kitchen looking like that, of course I'm hungry" Chunkz added.

Your brain went. blown fuse. rebooting. system not found.

But for once, they didn't shout. They didn't ruin it. They just let you two... sit there. Eyes locked. Playing with fire.

Chunkz finally lifted his fork, took a bite and let out a noise that made your entire soul combust.

"Yeah" Chunkz said, eyes twinkling. 

"You're dangerous" Chunkz added. 

After filming wrapped and the cameras stopped rolling. The crew packed up. You're pretending to clean just to delay leaving. Harry and Darkest wandered off somewhere, giving you a suspicious amount of space.

You lingered by the counter, pretending to tidy up. Chunkz came up behind you, close enough to feel the warmth of his body but not quite touching but it felt like personal space is now a myth

"You did good" Chunkz said.

"Real good, impressed me" Chunkz added.

"Thanks, you weren't too bad at... distracting me" You said with a smile, looking down.

"Let me make it up to you then" Chunkz said as he let out a small smile.

"You free after this?" Chunkz asked casually, almost too casual.

"Depends, why?" You said as you glanced over your shoulder, heart stuttering.

"Thinking maybe... we skip the cameras next time. You cook for me proper, no distractions" Chunkz said as he shrugged, smiling like he already knew the answer.

You tried to play it cool. Tried so hard but you turned too fast and bumped into him.

And he didn't move back. He just stood there. Close enough that you could smell the faint trace of his cologne, something fresh and warm and way too unfair.

"You down?" Chunkz asked again, voice low.

"Depends" You said, pretending to think. 

"You still gonna flirt with me the whole time?" You asked with a genuine smile.

"Babe, if you think this was flirting.." Chunkz said, stepping closer, voice dropping

"Wait until there's no cameras" Chunkz said as his grin returned, wider this time.

You swallowed hard. 

 He pulled out his phone, tapping it against your arm. 

"Put your number in, I'll send you a proper invite. Dress code.. cute aprons only" Chunkz said.

 You laughed, taking the phone. Chunkz grinned, slow and real.

"You bringing the same game you brought today?" You asked teasingly.

"Better" Chunkz said. 

"Tonight, I'm bringing dessert too" Chunkz added pointing to himself with a smirk.

You were seconds away from saying something stupid like "YES I WILL BEAR YOUR CHILDREN" instead you blacked out. Emotionally. Spiritually. Thermally.

You nodded, weakly. Because speech has abandoned you.

You knew exactly what he meant and when he brushed his fingers lightly against yours like casual and like it didn't mean anything, you knew you were completely finished.

- end -

Hello lovelies!!! Actually? No notes today, just the same reminder.

I hope y'all have an amazing day, absolute love and guidance.

As I said everytime, send in some request and ideas!!

Sickeningly in love literally.

Pairings: Go Hyuntak x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're sick and Gotak's here to take care of you.

Genre: Lovers, tooth aching fluff (yes) , language, and reader being sick.

W/C: 1,159

Photos used are from pinterest! Ugh, ain't he a cutie patootie?

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You grew up next door in Singil-dong, and were practically raised in each other's homes, always being each other's playdate. Ever since the two of you decided to become "married" in the playground, you've always been together.

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Go hyuntak and his friends planned to hang out after school at Baku's dad's chicken resto. Him and his friends are already fighting over who get's the first drumstick, his phone pressed to his ear, talking to you, his girlfriend.

"You out of school yet?" He asked, smiling faintly. Talking to you always made his day. Then your voice—quiet, strained. "Didn't go." Gotak blinked, his smile faltered. "What, why?" His words came out slow. The group had gotten quiet as they listened in, Baku leaned against the table, one arm propped casually as he watched Gotak, Jun-tae pausing mid-bite out of his chicken, and Sieun now leaned back in the booth seat, eyes flicking between the group.

"Jus' didn't feel like it," you say, a faint rasp in your voice. Then came the cough. Raspy. Rough. Gotak straightened up, his face frowning. "You're sick."

"I'm not—"

"You are."

"No, i'm—"

"I'm on my way." He cuts in again, standing up. And he'd already hung up before you could protest. Baku furrowed his brows, his arm still leaning lazily on the table. "Yo, what do you mean? You're leaving?" Gotak glances at Baku with a half-apologetic smile. "It's Y/N, she's sick." Baku only went 'ahh' then nodded. "Who?" Sieun asked, glancing between them, confused. Baku grins, patting Sieun's back. "His girlfriend, bro." He says, 'bro' in english. "Enjoy without me." Gotak muttered, grabbing his bag.

Before Gotak could leave, Baku called out, "Stay safe!" Gotak just lifted a hand in response, already halfway out. Jun tae blinked after him, then turned to Baku. "Wait—he has a girlfriend?" Baku let's out a short laugh and shook his head. "Man's whipped."

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You often found yourself alone, thanks to your parents' demanding jobs. Your bedroom is a mess—trash tossed everywhere, books you were supposed to study—left open and forgetten and discarded tissues from your constant sneezing. You could barely move without wincing as your joints would pop painfully.

You try to ignore the sharp pain in your throat, but it made even breathing a struggle. Lying down could only offer little relief. Your phone then buzzed beside you, and you could barely lift it. Eyes heavy, you blinked a few times and squinted at the screen.

귀염둥이 (cutie)

(Gotak): Baby, open the door. I'm outside.

Then a second message followed,

(Gotak): [kiss emoji]

With a groan, you pushed yourself off the bed, limbs trembling. You then wrapped your arms around yourself as you make your way to the front door. "Babe, baby, babe." He calls out, knocking lightly. "Wait up, Gogo." You croaked, his nickname falling past your lips. "I swear, if you don't open the door in five seconds—" the door creaks open, and Gotak's eyes land on you. "Just kidding." He continued.

.

..

"Holy shit, Y/N."

Your face looked drained of color, clammy and pale—your eyes puffy and tinged red. Dark circles had bloomed under your eyes, and your knees looked ready to buckle.

You leaned against the doorframe, your whole body drooped like it wanted to fold into the floor. "You look like you haven't slept in days." Before you could respond, his hand found your waist as he nudged you aside to step in. "Still pretty though," he muttered, almost to himself. "It's kind of unfair." Holding you for a lil while, he quickly took the stuff he bought for you in, kicking the door shut behind him.

His arm stayed around you, eyes scanning your face again. "Okay, okay—Couch. Now." His hand shifted to your back, firm and warm as he guides you towards the couch. You leaned into him instinctively, your steps dragging. He eased you down onto the couch gently, crouching in front of you. "So, i got you noodles," he said, trying to sound casual. "And. . . Medicine. Sooo stay there, and don't move much. Doctor Gotak's got you."

Go hyuntak made sure that you were cozy on the couch before heading to the kitchen, placing the plastic bags on the counter with a sigh. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around the place. He figured he'd check on your room, just a peek. He then walked over and nudged your bedroom door open, "Woah," he clutched his chest dramatically. "This looks like biohazard-level, babe."

He lingered on the doorway, one hand gripping the frame, the other resting on his hip.

"This is tragic."

With a sigh, he crouched to pick up your trash, the scattered tissues, half-finished notes, and books. "You really tried to study through this, huh." He whispered. "This is so unsanitary—" he paused as he picked up a framed photo on your desk—one of the two of you at some arcade. Gotak jerked his head with a quiet snort. "Stubborn girl," he says softly, almost fondly. "You should've told me."

.

..

The scent of boiling noodles filled the air, steam curling lazily from the pot. Gotak, his hoodie's sleeve rolled up, stood at the stove, stirring the noodles with a concentration that seemed ridiculous for something so little. It must be perfect. He thinks to himself.

He kept glancing back at the couch where you lay bundled up in your blanket like a sad little burrito, the damp towel he'd placed earlier having slipped slightly off your forehead. "Aishh." He left the ladle propped on the side and padded over, sitting beside you with a soft sigh. Gently, he brushed the towel back into place and adjusted your blanket higher like you were some fragile thing.

"You feeling any better?" He asked, his finger brushing your cheek. "i can barely breath," you joked, the corners of your lips twitching upward. "Not funny."

.

..

Gotak returned to you, balancing a steaming bowl of noodles in one hand and a lukewarm glass of water in the other. You slowly pushed yourself up, one shaky hand gripping the cushion. He immediately sets the bowl on the coffee table and helped you sit properly, settling in beside you. "Slow, baby. Sit slow," he muttered.

Then, he gently nudged your head with his knuckle. "You're such a pain," his tone dropped a bit. "I'm seriously pissed, you know," he says, voice low and annoyed. "Mm—ow," you winced, softly, the sound barely leaving your lips.

He immediately froze. "Shit. Baby. I'm sorry—i'm sorry, i didn't mean to. Fuck. Sorry, babe. Sorry, sorry." His voice cracked with guilt, his hands hovering near your face, unsure if he should hold you or not. You gave a weak laugh. "Eat first, okay? Drink your meds after, then you can go to sleep. I'll stay." You nodded faintly, then smiled.

"Thank you....i love you."

"I love you too," he whispered, leaning in to press a kiss against the side of your head. "Don't scare me like this again."

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