Safe And Sound

they knew what they were doing putting him in an all black fit with the chain

Can you please write a Niko omilana angst

AHHHHH TYSM FOR THIS REQUEST I HAD SM MOTIVATION WRITING IT 🩷🩷 HERE

*starts giggling uncontrollably*

lost and found

hwang jun-ho x f!reader

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

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

the city of seoul has never been kind to you.

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

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

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

so now, you don’t give. 

you take.

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

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

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

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

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

each time, the answer is the same. 

no.

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

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

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

you spot the redhead almost immediately.

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

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

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

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

then…

“hey, stop!”

your head snaps behind.

a police officer.

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

fuck.

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

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

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

the desperation makes you faster in way.

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

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

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

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

the officer doesn’t make it through in time.

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

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

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

he catches everyone, but not you tonight. 

not this time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

then, jackpot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re fast.”

you shrug. 

“what can i say?”

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

“you play sports?”

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

“that’s not important.”

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

“fair.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

you say nothing, looking away.

“give back the purse.”

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

jun-ho watches you carefully, then sighs. 

“the money.”

you don’t move.

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

the money you refuse to give back.

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

“of course.”

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

“i’m keeping an eye on you.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you try to focus on surviving. 

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

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

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

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

however, his eyes will always follow you.

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

“that asshole is staring again.”

you sigh, glancing over.

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

sae-byeok chuckles under her breath. 

“he’s obsessed with you.”

“he’s a cop,” you mutter. 

“it’s his job to be annoying.”

she nudges your arm. 

“you should go say hi.”

“and what? tell him to fuck off?”

she grins. 

“exactly.”

you roll your eyes, watching as she walks off. 

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

he looks up as you approach, not surprised.

“you’re a creep,” you say flatly.

jun-ho exhales through his nose, barely amused. 

“you’re a criminal.”

“not anymore.”

his brows lift slightly.

“really?”

“yeah,” you say, crossing your arms. 

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

jun-ho hums, unconvinced. 

“that’s a trend for you.”

you glare at him. 

“what?”

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

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

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

“i’m just doing my job.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you hand it to the boy.

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

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

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

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

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

that fact is becoming his problem.

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

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

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

maybe then, he could approach you differently.

maybe then, he wouldn’t just be watching.

see, you’re not stupid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

that pisses you off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

you smirk. 

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

he exhales sharply, shaking his head. 

“coincidence.”

“bullshit.”

he huffs a laugh, crossing his arms. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“whatever you say, officer.”

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

“see you tomorrow.”

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

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

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

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

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

you flip it over.

a phone number.

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

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

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

you need that.

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

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

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

however, jun-ho has his own problems.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but then, you stop.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

this wasn’t just some underground scam.

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

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

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

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

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

sae-byeok notices, though. she always does.

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

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

beside you, gi-hun tenses.

a guard steps forward, voice sharp.

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

gi-hun shakes his head. 

“no.”

“w-we don’t use our names in here.”

he continues, 

however, your breath hitches, barely audible.

because that voice…

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

it’s stupid. so stupid.

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

jun-ho is not here.

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

your throat tightens but it’s impossible.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the only person in your life is now gone.

now it’s just you and gi-hun.

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

you don’t remember much after that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your breath catches.

balance: 22.8 billion won.

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

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

you won.

why does it feel so fucking hollow?

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

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

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

you have to keep moving.

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

deep down, you know it.

things aren’t over yet.

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

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

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

nothing is fine.

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

it’s light. soft.

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

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

jun-ho.

for a moment, you just stare.

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

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

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

you nod quickly, stepping aside.

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

“tea?” you offer, voice hoarse.

“water’s fine if you have any.”

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

the weight of everything presses down on your chest.

“i was there, too.”

you freeze at his words.

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

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

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

“you know gi-hun?”

he nods. 

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

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

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

junho reassures. yet, you are not reassured. 

“i was looking out for you, too.”

your breath shudders.

he leans forward slightly. 

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

“i thought i lost you.”

something inside you cracks.

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

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

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

junho’s expression darkens, but he says nothing.

you shake your head, wiping at your face. 

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

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

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

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

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

jun-ho holds you through all of it.

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

he doesn’t hesitate.

“yeah,” he murmurs. “i’ll stay.”

he needs this just as much as you do.

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

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

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

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

something inside of him has shifted, cracked beyond repair.

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

this world was cruel but you already knew that.

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

neither of you say anything about it.

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

one night, it finally snaps.

you wake up crying.

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

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

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

he looks like he hasn’t slept.

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

you nod. a lie.

he exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw. 

“couldn’t sleep.”

you swallow. 

“me neither.”

silence.

suddenly, it snaps, something snaps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

masterlist

FINNICK FLUFF FINNICK FLUFF FINNICK FLUFF

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

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

about time

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

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

word count : 3.1K+

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

—--

“eat your food." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"cry about it." he dead pans. 

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

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

you cackle, "problem solved then."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you chuckle, "definitely adventurous."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"cars gonna be here soon."

you can only nod dumbly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nodded, shy and tender. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

he fights a smile while locking the car behind you. 

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

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

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

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

“yes please !”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"alright," he nods

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"thank you." you mumble against his lips.

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

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

PLEASE HEAR ME OUT

so in the newest video (solitary confinement) sharky REALLY wanted a friend. But since Aj was being a bitch to him (typical Aj I love him sooo much) he decided to bite the bait and sends y/n to his room. Y/n and sharky are the bestest of friends.

So when sharks falls asleep, aj sends y/n to his room and she's just playing with his hair and softly patting his face until he wakes up. When his eyes open, he is over the moon and takes her in a home crushing hug.

This ends up in a very flirty, sappy video where sharky and y/n are basically acting like a cute married couple.

You can also add the fans and boys reaction to the video hehe.

Love ur stuff sm ❤❤❤❤

A Friend in Solitude - Sharky

Summary: Sharky finds comfort in a quiet moment with you during a video challenge

Pairing: Sharky x Reader

Genre: Fluff Masterlist

The room was quiet.

Too quiet.

Sharky had tried to fight it, he really did. He talked to the camera about how he should win the video, slept, and even did a few laps around the room. But boredom turned to restlessness, and restlessness turned to end up where his body curled up in the corner where the bed is and the blanket wrapped around him, breath steady as he finally gave in to the silence and drifted off.

He looked small like that. Still. Tired in a way he rarely ever let show.

Aj watched the screen from the other room, arms crossed, lips twitching between annoyance and affection.

“He actually knocked out” Aj mumbled as he suppressed a laugh pointing at the monitor.

You stood behind him, your eyes soft.

“He hates being alone” You said quietly, watching a hopeless Sharky slowly fall asleep.

“You know that” You added.

Aj sighed like he was pretending not to care but his hand was already reaching for the button.

“Go on then” Aj muttered.

"Before he wakes up and thinks he’s been abandoned” Aj added with a small grin.

You didn’t wait. You slipped through the door, soft steps echoing faintly as you entered the room.

Sharky didn’t stir. His breathing was even. His face relaxed. He looked so at peace, and yet so vulnerable it tugged at your chest.

You knelt beside him gently and reached out, brushing a few curls off his forehead. Your fingers lingered, threading lightly through his hair.

Then, without thinking, you started softly patting his cheek. Not to wake him up fully but just enough to let him know he wasn’t alone anymore.

“Sharky” You whispered.

He blinked awake slowly, confusion written all over his face at first. Then, as his eyes found yours, everything in him softened. The tiredness, the quiet, the dullness in his chest was gone in an instant.

“You’re here” Sharky said as he stared at you like he couldn’t believe it.

“Of course I’m here” You said as you nodded, smiling gently.

Without another word, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug so tight it nearly knocked you off balance. His face is tucked into your neck. His fingers gripped the back of your hoodie like he was scared you’d disappear again.

“I missed you” Sharky murmured with a tired smile.

“I missed you too” You said.

The hug lingered, warm and quiet. You didn’t speak much after that. You didn’t need to.

Eventually, you ended up side by side on the beanbags, his head in your lap again, your fingers still in his hair. He kept glancing up at you like he couldn’t stop smiling.

And you kept brushing his curls back, over and over, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You okay now?” You asked softly.

“Yeah” Sharky whispered, eyes fluttering shut again.

“Now that you’re here” Sharky added.

And just like that, the confinement didn’t feel so lonely anymore.

Meanwhile, in the control room, Aj had been watching the entire thing unfold on the monitor. His eyes flickered between the two of you, watching the way Sharky melted into the quiet, the way you cared for him so effortlessly. He shook his head, half-amused, half-annoyed.

“You two are insufferable” Aj muttered under his breath, leaning back in his chair.

But the way he glanced at the screen one last time, he couldn't help the small, knowing smile that tugged at his lips.

“Yeah, well, if it works for them…” Aj said as he shrugged.

And for the first time that night, he left the screen on, letting you and Sharky stay exactly where you were. No interruptions. Just the two of you, together.

- end -

Hello lovelies! What's up? Anyways I've been trying to keep up with the requests and stuff but I got a lot going on lmao mayyybee try to show love to other members and send some requests for them too lmao

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

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

“no, no, no, you sweet dumb thing” IM ON THE FLOORRRRRRRRRRRR. IM KICKING MY FEET, TWIRLING MY HAIR, CLIMBING UP WALLS, SCREAMING, CRYING, CRAWLING, ALL OF THE ABOVE…….

hey! was just wondering (if your requests are open) if you could write something about chad meeks (from scream) and reader?? anything you want but maybe some fluff or like mutual pinning? Thanks anyway🫶🏼

nana's cookies and shared secrets

chad meeks x reader

words: 3.1k

notes: ahhh i loved writing this so much, i hope you like it :). not proofread!

living next to your best friend had many advantages. at least for chad, who would knock on your door every day at lunch and dinner time, a grin plastered on his face while he begged for you to cook him something. you were sure that he had never used his kitchen in the three months he'd been living in his apartment.

an advantage for you, though, was chad's dvd collection of your favorites movies. the ones you'd bought him for his fifteen birthday and that he still kept next to his tv, just in case a movie night was due for. his dvd collection was like a treasure trove of nostalgia, containing all the films that had shaped your friendship over the years. some were gifts from you, carefully chosen to match his taste, while others were movies he had discovered and introduced to you. each movie holding a special memory or inside joke between the two of you.

you cherished those dvd's, not only because of the moments with chad, but also because it was the only time where you would allow yourself to be so close to him. chad was a cuddler, if he wasn't holding onto a pillow, he would hold your hand, your thigh, anything. and you'd have to hide your face so he wouldn't see just how much you enjoyed being so close to him.

sometimes, while engrossed in one of the movies, chad's hand would find its way to yours. his touch always ignited a spark within you, an electric connection that you couldn't ignore. you would steal glances at him, trying to gauge if he felt the same way. but as quickly as the touch came, it would retreat, leaving you longing for more.

it was bittersweet, these stolen moments of intimacy. you cherished them, treasured them, but at the same time, you feared what might happen if you let your true feelings show. the risk of losing chad's friendship seemed too big, and so you buried your emotions deep within, hiding them behind laughter and playful teasing. as time went on, you wondered if there would ever come a day when you could gather the courage to reveal your true feelings to chad.

when you were ten, chad gifted you a journal for your birthday so you could write down your own recipes, knowing just how much you loved baking with your grandmother. and the year later, he bought a signed cd of your favorite singer, which you were sure was now scratched and worn out from how many times you'd played it.

as you grew older, your feelings for chad evolved beyond friendship. you began to see him in a different light, noticing the small details that made him himself and realizing the depth of your affection for him. however, the fear of ruining what you had held you back from expressing those feelings. what if he didn't feel the same way? what if it changed everything between you?

so, you continued to live in the shadow of the friend zone, relishing the stolen moments of closeness during movie nights while suppressing the longing in your heart. each time chad's hand brushed against yours, you wondered if it was a sign, a subtle indication that he might share your hidden desires. but doubt and uncertainty clouded your thoughts, and you convinced yourself it was merely wishful thinking on your part.

-

chad's job took time away from your usual meals together, his shifts were long and tiring, so when he got back to his home he went straight to bed, leaving you to cook alone. the absence of chad's cheerful presence during mealtimes made you realize just how much you relied on those shared moments. cooking for one felt empty, and you found yourself longing for the sound of his laughter and the taste of his genuine appreciation for your company.

as the days turned into weeks, you couldn't help but miss the movie nights as well. the dvds sat untouched, collecting dust on his shelf, and you yearned for the familiar comfort of sitting side by side with chad, engrossed in a captivating story while stealing glances at each other in the dimly lit room. the movies had always been an excuse to be close, and now that excuse was absent.

you couldn't deny that something had shifted within you. the longing in your heart grew stronger, and you missed him terribly. but still, the fear of rejection held you back, and you couldn't bear the thought of jeopardizing the bond you shared.

one evening, unable to distract yourself, you found yourself flipping through the pages of the journal chad had given you all those years ago. memories flooded back as you read the entries about your baking recipes and the messy handwriting of your younger self, and a surge of nostalgia washed over you. you stood, not bothering to change out of your pajamas as you rushed to your front door, ready to go visit him and swinging it open.

outside stood chad, his hand up as if he was about to knock, and a grin on his face, one you had missed more than anything. "i know it's late, but... dinner?" you couldn't help but smile, feeling a wave of relief rush though you. "i've missed your cooking too much," he admitted sheepishly, stepping inside your apartment. "i've been eating takeout for weeks, and it's just not the same."

you chuckled and closed the door behind him. "someone's hungry." chad's eyes sparkled with anticipation. "always hungry when it comes to your cooking. i know it's late, do you have any leftovers for me?" he mimicked the puppy eyes that used to work so well on his own mother when he was a kid.

you rolled your eyes playfully. "you never change, do you? always trying to get a free meal out of me." he shrugged, still wearing that mischievous grin. "it's not my fault you're an amazing cook. i can't resist your food." his arms circled your waist while you looked inside the fridge, your cheeks heating up like they usually did around chad.

you pretended to be unfazed by his proximity, even though his touch sent shivers down your spine. "well, lucky for you, i made a double portion of my famous lasagna yesterday. i knew you'd show up eventually," you teased, trying to mask the butterflies in your stomach.

chad leaned in closer, his warm breath tickling your ear. "you always know how to take care of me," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. the closeness between you felt both thrilling and nerve-wracking, a delicate balance that you had become accustomed to over the years. he blinked, smirking. "you're letting the cold out of the fridge, y/n"

you snapped back to reality, realizing you were still standing with the fridge door open. blushing, you quickly grabbed the container of lasagna and closed the fridge. "right, sorry about that," you mumbled, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

chad chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "no worries, i'm used to you getting lost in your own world. now, let's dig into that lasagna before it gets cold!"

as you served the steaming slices onto plates, chad couldn't contain his anticipation. "mmm, it smells amazing," he praised, eagerly taking his seat.

you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment as you watched him, his enthusiasm bringing warmth to your heart. with each bite, he savored the flavors and occasionally let out sounds of delight. it was a familiar sight, one that brought back memories of countless meals you had shared together.

between mouthfuls, chad paused and looked up at you. "you know, i've really missed this. eating together, talking, just being here with you." before you could answer, he spoke again. "you know what i miss?"

"what?" you smiled, and he reached for another fork-full of his dish, "your nana's cookies." he closed his eyes, humming as he pretended to imagine having one of his childhood snacks. you laughed softly at his comment, "ah, those cookies were legendary, weren't they? i still remember the first time you tried them. you practically begged my nana to share the recipe with you."

chad grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "can you blame me? they were like bites of heaven! remember when i tried to replicate them? i'm not allowed near an oven back at home anymore."

you laughed, remembering the disastrous baking attempts chad had made in the past. "oh, god. i remember that. you made mindy try the burnt cookies." chad shook his head, feigning disappointment.

"i had such high hopes, you know. but i guess baking just isn't my forte. that's why i rely on your amazing cooking skills." you raised an eyebrow playfully, before he shushed you and stood to clean off both of your plates. "you know," you started, "i'm pretty sure she gave me the recipe, it must be on the journal you got me."

chad's eyes widened with excitement. "really? you have your nana's cookie recipe in there?" he asked eagerly, his voice filled with anticipation.

you nodded, a smile playing on your lips. "yeah, i'm pretty sure it's in here somewhere." you motioned for chad to join you at the kitchen counter, where the journal sat and you flicked through the pages before setting it open to a page filled with your grandmother's neat handwriting.

chad leaned in, his eyes scanning the page. "oh, look at this! 'nana's secret chocolate chip cookies,'" he read aloud, his voice filled with delight. "this is the one!"

you both huddled closer, shoulder to shoulder, as you read through the cherished recipe together. chad's excitement was contagious, and you couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "well? let's bake them." he offered, taking the book from your hands and listing the ingredients, once he was done, he looked up, waiting. "hurry!"

you grinned, captivated by chad's eagerness. "alright, let's do it. but i have one condition," you teased, raising an eyebrow. chad tilted his head, a playful smirk forming on his lips. "oh, really? what's the condition?"

you leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "you have to promise not to burn down the kitchen this time." he reached for your hand, mimicking a handshake, "i do the mixing and you do the baking?"

"deal. just make sure to follow the recipe carefully this time, mr. kitchen disaster." chad feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "hey now, i've improved! i'll have you know that my cooking skills have gone up a whole half-notch since the last time."

you rolled your eyes playfully. "half a notch, huh? well, i'll be sure to keep the fire extinguisher nearby, just in case."

as you gathered the ingredients and started preheating the oven, chad stood by your side, eagerly watching your every move. it felt natural to be in the kitchen together, sharing this moment, and you couldn't help but savor it. and every time you moved around the kitchen to grab the ingredients that chad had listed before, you could feel him near, his chest against your shoulder, or simply his presence was driving you insane.

"so, what's the first step, chef?" chad asked, a spark of mischief in his eyes. you handed him a mixing bowl and a whisk. "first, we'll need to cream together the butter and sugars. and by 'we,' i mean you. i'll supervise to make sure you don't cause any culinary disasters."

chad grinned, accepting the challenge. "alright, chef supervisor, prepare to be amazed by my whisking skills!" he started vigorously whisking the butter and sugars together, his enthusiasm infectious.

you watched him with a mixture of amusement and fondness. "steady there, whisking champion. remember, we want a creamy consistency, not an arm workout."

chad chuckled, his focus shifting to maintaining a steady pace. "got it. creamy consistency." as he continued whisking, you took a moment to appreciate the scene unfolding before you. the familiar rhythm of your friendship mixed with the anticipation of what could be.

after the butter and sugars were perfectly combined, you handed chad the next set of ingredients. "now, add the eggs and vanilla. slow and steady wins the race."

chad nodded, cracking the eggs carefully and adding them to the mixture. he poured in the vanilla extract you'd handed to him and whisked again, his determination evident. "slow and steady." you thought it was cute, the way he kept repeating your instructions and how he bit his bottom lips as he focused on the task at hand.

the thought crossed your mind once again, what if this was the perfect moment to reveal your true feelings?

you pushed the thought aside, reminding yourself of the risks involved. you didn't want to lose the friendship you cherished so much. but as the minutes ticked by, and chad's whisking turned into a rhythm, you found it harder to resist the pull of your emotions.

"alright, chad, you're doing great," you encouraged, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness. "now, let's add the dry ingredients gradually and mix."

chad followed your instructions, adding the flour mixture little by little while you gently folded it into the batter. the kitchen was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of your hands working together. once you informed him the mix was done, he went to dip a finger in it, just for a taste but you smacked his hand away.

he watched you intently as you poured a few chocolate chips into the mix, but they didn't seem to be enough for chad. "some more? pleaseee" when you looked back at him with a mocking look, he took the matter into his own hands and titled your hands towards the bowl, dipping the whole handful of chips into the bowl. he grinned at his own actions. "don't look at me like that, you know chocolate makes everything better."

chad followed you to the heated oven, opening it for you so you could slide the tray inside easily. as you waited, chad leaned against the counter and you sat next to him, your thighs and his hips almost touching. a hush fell over the kitchen, the only sound being the gentle hum of the oven.

chad's gaze held yours, and you could see a whirlwind of emotions playing out on his face. silence stretched between you, and doubt began to creep in, threatening to shatter the fragile moment.

but then, with a mix of determination and tenderness, chad leaned in, closing the distance between you. his lips brushed against yours, not fully sealing in a kiss. his breath ghosted over your lips, the smell of chocolate evident due to the few chips he'd secretly sneaked into his mouth while you finished off with the mixture.

"chad" you whispered, not really sure of what you were going to say. just testing to see if you were still able to speak because of the proximity. his eyes didn't move away from yours as he moved his hand from the countertop to your waist, then your neck. your heart raced, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, craving more.

"chad…" you repeated and your voice wavered, overwhelmed by a wave of emotions that threatened to consume you.

you tilted your head slightly, inviting him in, and he obliged, closing the distance between your lips. the first touch was electric, a soft brush that left you craving more. his lips were warm and velvety, molding against yours with a gentle urgency, as if he had dreamed of this as much as you had.

chad's hands traveled down your back, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. lost in the moment, you could feel his breath against your skin, mingling with your own. soft breaths escaped both of you, blending with the sounds of your lips exploring each other. the taste of him, sweet, filled your senses, intoxicating you further.

with each kiss, the intensity grew, and you craved more. his tongue sought entrance, a silent plea for deeper connection, and you willingly granted it.

your bodies pressed against the counter, the heat between you intensified. you could feel the tension building, the desire burning within you both. the intimate dialogue that ensued was whispered, breathless, and filled with a shared longing.

his hands roamed your body, tracing the curves, igniting every nerve. the kisses became deeper, more urgent. time seemed to stand still as you surrendered to the passion that consumed you, the world beyond the kitchen counter fading away. you felt like if chad moved away from you, you'd melt away. urging for the smallest touches, like you'd always done.

the beeping of the oven made you pull back slightly, only for chad to dive back in for another kiss, his hands cradling your face as he slowed his forceful kiss into small pecks. not pulling away, you slid down the counter, your hips meeting his as he kept his hands on your waist, holding you close to him.

"they're gonna get burnt." you mumbled, your voice almost being stolen away by his mouth. he hummed, finally pulling away to let you turn off the oven and take out the tray, carefully placing it on the stovetop.

you turned to face chad, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "they turned out perfect," you said, your voice laced with satisfaction.

chad grinned, "well, you're the master-chef here. i'm just the lucky taste tester," he replied, playfully bumping his shoulder against yours.

you laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep within. "oh, so now you're admitting that you sneak cookies before they're fully baked?"

chad shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "what can i say? it's my job to ensure the quality control, you know."

rolling your eyes, you reached for a freshly baked cookie from the tray, blowing on it to cool it down before taking a bite. chad's grin widened, and he reached for a cookie himself. taking a bite, he closed his eyes, relishing the taste. when he opened them again, his gaze locked with yours, a spark of desire evident.

he moved closer, and just when you thought he was going to kiss you again, he reached for your head and ruffled your hair before smirking. "how about i go get my dvds? i don't have work tomorrow."

this celebration for his niece is so cute 🥺