About Time

REMINISCE - 박 후민

genre sorta angst (w happy ending) , park humin x reader

cw spoilers for whc2 (takes place after ep8)

word count 1.9k

note i hope u like it and if u do, say thank you jiya because she took the burden of proofreading this

YOU FOUND YOURSELF HERE OFTEN. You stared longingly at the flower shop as you sat on the curb across the shop. You sat there, foolishly expecting for him to walk by the shop coincidentally. And perhaps, when he does, you’d share a glance from a distance and you’d be satisfied. It’s blissful to imagine it, but its fruition still scares you. 

“Are you fucking depressed or something?” 

You look up to see Seongje’s contemptuous smirk as he blocked the light from the streetlight, “No. It would take a lot more for me to be depressed.” You moved aside by habit, despite the fact that there was plenty of space. 

“Our only source of money is gone, that can’t be good for you.” He said as he sat down next to you on the curb. He was right, of course, but there was an underlying sense of relief you felt when you recalled that Na Baekjin was finally defeated. 

“Fuck that shit, dude. I’ll get a scholarship and get the hell out of this shithole.” 

Seongje blinked as he took in your words. He lit up a cigarette silently, as if in thought before turning towards you speaking again, “Don’t tell me you’ve been waiting for the union to collapse.” 

“Not really.” You said at first but one pointed look from him and you sighed and spilled  your true feelings, “I wasn’t particularly fond of or dependent on the union. Since Seowon joined the union, I had to join if I wanted to survive school.” 

“So, what now? You’re gonna study hard?” He said as he offered you his cig which you graciously took. 

As the smoke clouded your vision, you spoke, “Yeah. And you?” 

“I got the offer to lead the union.” 

You paused and stared at him before looking away, “Don’t accept the offer. Choi is gonna fuck you up at the slightest slip up.”

“Relax. I am not going to.” He took the cigarette from you and brought it to his lips, “I am going to Jeju.” 

“For what?” You asked almost immediately, curious as to why he would suddenly leave for Jeju.

He shrugged, “It’s a romantic place.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Seongje chuckled as he exhaled, smoke enveloping the two of you. A small smile slipped onto your face as serenity hung in the air. You relished in the knowledge that there will be no more bloody knuckles or late night visits to the pharmacy. You could simply be a teenager like you’d hoped to be. 

You found yourself staring at the shop once again, hoping you’ll catch a glimpse of him. 

“Isn’t this Park Humin’s neighbourhood? I thought you were over him.” 

You shook your head, choosing to be honest because you knew Seongje could see right through it, “I thought so too. And I wish it were true.” You looked up at the sky, barely able to see the stars. It was a shame that they were hidden by the clouds and smoke that covered this city. You wished to be able to see them twinkle. 

Seongje looked at you as if he was aware of why you were here, sitting at this curb, all alone. He flicked the cigarette bum on the ground and turned towards you, “I am scared of swimming.” 

“Wait, what? Then why the fuck are you going to Jeju?” 

“I’ll try to swim. I’ll either learn it, or die trying.” 

You looked at him incredulously, “Are you crazy?”

“I enjoy beating people, what do you think?” He said, “besides, if I never try it, I’ll never know if I can be good at it or not.” 

“And if you drown?” 

“It really isn’t that bad. Someone could help me up. Or I can just save myself.” 

“You’re too cocky for your own good.” You say, looking at the flower shop across you once again. 

Seongje gets up and brushes the dust off of his clothes, “You just need to be cocky enough,” he stretches his hand towards you, “Go see him.” 

You stare at his outstretched hand. You knew what he was talking about. ‘Go to him. Maybe it won’t be that bad.’ 

Except there is no hope for you, or so you believe. Maybe he will look at you with his loving gaze, but what if he looks at you in disdain? What if he walks past you, like a forgotten photograph while you’re still stuck in the frame? The ghost of what you had haunts your thoughts endlessly, and yet your feet don’t move. 

The ghost takes you back to the moment when you first met Humin. You were practically dozing off behind the counter, despite the bright sunlight streaming in through the window. You rested your head on your arms over the counter. 

The bell rang, indicating a customer but you were so drowsy, you barely noticed. A figure rushes inside the shop and you stay in your position, hoping for them to just leave (terrible employee behaviour). You could barely get a wink of sleep due to the sun, until you felt something blocking the rays and sighed contentedly. 

Except there are no curtains on the window. 

You immediately lift your head to see someone’s hand blocking the sunrays. You stare at the man in bewilderment as his eyes widen, as if he wasn’t expecting you to get up. He quickly apologizes as he stepped away from the counter, explaining that you seemed to need sleep. 

You looked away as the blood rushed onto your face, telling him it was alright. Once he walked away, you practically slammed your forehead on the counter of sheer embarrassment. 

You remembered when you clocked out later that day, he was waiting outside the shop. You were surprised to see him again, but he was quick to explain that he felt ‘sorry’ and wanted to make it up to you by getting some ice cream together. You were fully aware what he was playing at, and yet you played along. 

‘It really isn’t that bad.’ Seongje’s words ringed in your ears once again, and the realization dawned on you. You have nothing to lose. You might as well give it a shot.

You stand in front of the flower shop, your hand resting on the cold metal of the door knob. You inhale deeply as your fingers finally curl around the knob and you push it open. 

The familiar sound of the bell rang over your head as you entered the flower shop. The earthy, sweet aroma enters your nostrils as your gaze falls on the multiple bouquets in front of you. A warm yellow lights up the shop, just enough for you to be able to see. A bouquet of stargazer lilies caught your eye, reminding you of Humin once again. The way he would practically break his back to make sure he got you your favourite flowers. 

He would watch you carefully so as to gauge your reaction and would feel satisfied once he saw a smile spread over your face. Humin was observant when it came to you. He observed everything about you and tried his level best to bring a smile to your face, even if it meant embarrassing himself. 

That’s what you missed the most about Humin. You missed his presence, his touch and the comfort he brought you. You yearned for a glimpse of him, hoping that perhaps that would be able to calm your racing heart. But more than that, you missed the version of yourself he introduced to you. The version of you that was happy — truly happy. 

You decided to buy the bouquet and picked it up, despite the lingering feeling of disappointment. 

You knew he would never show up. What would change anyway? You were the one who chose to push Humin away for the union. You were the one who picked the union over him, so how could you be so shameless as to expect him to take you back? 

You turned around and placed the bouquet down on the counter and reached for your wallet to pay for it. You were just taking out the bills when you heard a familiar voice, “You finally came.” 

You looked up from your wallet to see Humin standing behind the counter. You felt as if your heart had stopped within your ribcage as you held onto the edge of the counter for support. He stood behind the counter, a small smile gracing his face as you stood in front of him. You suddenly felt self conscious, as if you felt he could see through your deepest fears. 

His eyes were still as beautiful as ever. He was just as starry eyed as you had remembered him to be. Yet, you were still reminded of the moment you watched tears spill out of his doe eyes. The moment when you caressed his face as he cried and when time froze for you. 

Humin smiled, “I could see you sitting on that curb from here. But, I never had the guts to come out and see you.” He sighed as he continued, “I am not sure if it matters, but I missed you.” 

Before you realised, your own eyes had started brimming up, “Humin..” Your words died on your tongue as you looked at him. Your tears blinded your view and you felt as if everything had come crumbling down on you. You had dreamt of this moment countless times, you had wondered what you would say to him when you finally saw him and now that he was in front of you, you could barely look at him. 

Humin walked out from behind the counter and hesitantly cupped your cheek, “Don’t cry.” 

His words only made you cry harder. You selfishly wanted to lean into his touch, to relish into this feeling of having him close once again.

Humin gently wrapped an arm around and before you knew it, you found yourself pulling him closer. You embraced him like your life depended on it. His scent clouded your mind, and you realised just how much you had missed the comfort within his arms. Your tears stained the fabric of his shirt, your sniffles muffled against his shoulder as you finally spoke, “I am sorry. I should’ve never- I should’ve never let you go,” you sniffled, “I missed you so much.” 

You felt his hand gently rub your back as you finally pulled away and looked into his eyes. Humin smiled again, wiping away the tears with his thumb, “It’s okay.” 

You shook your head, “It’s not. What I did wasn’t-” 

“-okay.” He finished for you, “Except it doesn’t matter.”

“You can’t say that. It does matter. I made a mistake.” 

“You’ve punished yourself a lot over this.” He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, “Isn’t that enough? I have no plans to let you go now that you’re here.” 

“I should make it up to you.” You said as you shook your head, the tears drying up on your face. 

Humin chuckled, “Sure. You have all the time in the world to do that.” 

As you walked out from the shop with him after closing, you looked up at the sky one more time. The clouds seemed to have drifted away, revealing the moon and a few stars in the sky.

Humin watched as you looked up at the sky, his fingers entangling with yours, “The moon is so beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” His gaze turns to you while yours is still fixed on the night sky. 

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.” Your eyes met and a grin creeped onto your face. 

The clouds had drifted away. The moon illuminates the once dark sky, and something about it feels so familiar to you. 

It is a beautiful night to be in love.

TO NOT REGRET

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

PLOT: your best friend since childhood, would it mess up your relationship if you were to confess?

WORD COUNT: 1.4K

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

You felt so wrong. So messed up.

Everyone had warned you. They said having a guy best friend for so long would only end one way—you’d catch feelings for him. But you never believed it. You were married, after all. To the love of your life. Or so you thought.

He did everything for you. Everything to make you happy. You needed him, and he gave you that, without hesitation. But then one night, everything fell apart.

Your phone rang. It was Junho. In the middle of the night. Your eyes were heavy, but you picked up anyway, trying to keep quiet so you didn’t wake your husband.

“Hello? Junho, why are you calling me this late?” You rubbed your eyes, your voice thick with sleep. But on the other side, there was only quiet—then sniffles.

“Hey... Junho, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Do you want me to come to you?” Your voice shot up, the panic creeping in. Something wasn’t right.

“I... I need you. I don’t know what to do...” Junho’s voice was shaky, like he was breaking.

Your heart dropped. You could hear the desperation in his words. “Junho, where are you? What’s going on?” You stood up, looking over at your husband, still asleep in bed. For a moment, you just stared. But then you kissed his forehead, instinctively, and walked out of the room.

You grabbed your keys. The worry inside you was growing. “Junho, are you still there? Where are you? What happened?”

“I’m at the beach... at the dock we used to go to.”

You felt your pulse quicken. The dock? Why was he there, at that place? What was going on? But all you could think was, I need to be there for him.

You started the car and drove off into the night, unsure of what you’d find, but knowing you couldn’t leave him alone.

Your hands gripped the steering wheel as you followed the winding road to the beach. It was quiet now—Junho hadn’t said anything since his last words, but that heaviness hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable. You tried not to think too much about what you’d find when you got there. All you knew was that you had to be with him. He needed you.

The headlights of your car bounced off the sand as you finally reached the dock. You parked, your breath shallow. There, sitting alone in the dark, was Junho. His shoulders were slumped, his head down. He seemed so small, so fragile. In his hands, he was holding a crumpled paper, staring at it as if it were his only lifeline.

“Junho?” you called softly, stepping out of the car, your voice trembling.

At the sound of your voice, he slowly lifted his head. His eyes were red and puffy, tears still glistening on his lashes, and in that moment, it hit you. This wasn’t just about a late-night breakdown. This was something deeper.

Before you could take another step, Junho looked at you with such raw vulnerability that it made your heart ache. Without thinking, you rushed over to him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight, desperate hug.

“I’m here. I’m right here, Junho,” you whispered, trying to steady your breathing, but felt your own tears beginning to well up.

Junho didn’t pull away. He let you hold him, his body shaking slightly. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Finally, you pulled back slightly, cupping his face with your hands, looking at him with worried eyes.

“What’s going on? What’s making you feel like this?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, afraid of what you might hear.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he handed you the paper he had been clutching, his fingers brushing against yours in a fleeting touch. You unfolded it, your heart sinking when you saw the familiar handwriting. It was both of yours handwriting. From when you both were younger, back when everything felt so simple.

You read it aloud, your voice thick with emotion, “We’ll stay together forever. We’ll get married. We’ll have two dogs, and one baby girl…” You voice faltered, and the tears you’d been holding back came pouring down your face. “Junho… why are you showing me this?” you choked out, your hands trembling as you held the paper.

Junho swallowed hard, looking down at the sand between them. “Because I... I need you to know. I never stopped feeling this way about you, Y/n. I never stopped loving you.”

Your chest tightened, a wave of confusion and sorrow washing over her. You tried to speak, but the words got caught in your throat.

“I didn’t mean to ruin anything,” Junho continued, his voice quieter now, but still laced with raw honesty. “I’ve watched you be happy with him, and I didn’t want to mess that up. I didn’t want to be the one who told you this and make you question everything. But I can’t keep pretending that this—” He gestured between them, his hand trembling, “—is nothing.”

Everything you thought you knew, everything you had felt in your heart, was suddenly unraveling before you. “Junho… I—” You cut yourself off, shaking your head, trying to process his confession, his words.

Junho looked at you with that same broken expression. “I don’t want to make you choose. I just... I need you to know how I feel. And if that means letting you go, then I’ll let you go. I’ll stay in the background, like I’ve always done.”

But you couldn’t even think about that. You couldn’t think about choosing. How could you, when everything inside you felt torn between loyalty and this pull to Junho that you had been running from for so long?

“Junho, I... I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, your heart shattering. “I’m married. I love him. I love my life with him. But you… You’re a part of me, too. I never thought—” your voice cracked, “I never thought you felt this way.”

Junho nodded, his face unreadable. “I never wanted to make things harder for you. But I also couldn’t live in the shadow of what we used to be without telling you.”

You stared out at the water. “What are we supposed to do now?” you murmured, tears slipping down your face, feeling like the weight of everything was too much to bear.

For a long time, Junho didn’t answer. He just sat there, beside you, the two of you facing the endless horizon, lost in the silence between them.

Junho shifted beside you, his eyes still on the sand, and for a moment, it felt like time had stopped. Neither of you spoke, as if you were both trying to piece together everything that had been said, everything that had been hidden for so long.

And then, without a word, Junho turned to you. He reached out, his fingers brushing gently along your cheek, wiping away the tears you hadn't even realized had fallen. His touch felt like fire, soft and burning at the same time. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding as he slowly leaned in.

Before you could process it, Junho’s lips were on yours. It was tender at first, as if testing the waters, as if asking for permission. You froze, your mind screaming at you to pull away, to stop this from happening. But then you felt it—the warmth of him, the closeness, the years of friendship and longing that suddenly rushed forward all at once. Your hands moved on their own, reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss.

Junho’s lips were desperate now, as if he had been waiting for this moment, this feeling. And you, lost in the emotions, lost in everything that was happening—responded just as fervently.

When you both finally broke apart, both breathless, Junho’s eyes were filled with something you couldn’t quite describe. “I don’t regret it,” he said softly, his voice hoarse.

Your heart hammered in your chest. You could barely process the words, but in that moment, you didn’t need to. You were overwhelmed, but in the best possible way.

For a split second, you just stared at him, your lips still tingling from the kiss, your mind racing with a thousand questions. And then, before you could stop yourself, you leaned in again, this time more certain. You kissed him back, slowly, but with a deeper hunger, as if the kiss itself was an apology, a confession, and an answer all at once.

When you both pulled away again, you looked at him, your eyes filled with emotion. You didn’t regret it either.

And for the first time in a long time, it felt like you were finally being honest with yourself.

*ೃ࿐TO FAULT A NET

[ ACT V: HE IS WHAT HE HIDES ]

spider-man! ethan landry x black cat! reader

#SYNOPSIS— ethan takes a photo of mindy in an ambulance, chad's screaming about webs being shot, and ethan thinks the ambulance blanket is cold.

#CONTAINS— enemies to lovers, slowburn, antihero&vigilante reader, familial issues, implication of ptsd, gore!!, blood, murder, death, reader is overly flirtatious

#AUTHORSNOTE— thank you so much for following this series so closely <3 this isn't the end yet, there's still an epilogue xx

ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V

you had learned from your years in the criminal world that to underestimate someone driven by revenge was a mistake.

you had seen countless people go to unimaginable lengths just to seek the satisfaction of victory. of finally having the upper hand over the one person they believed caused them so much turmoil. you had heard men and woman alike compare it to hero's work. and you understood them sometimes, but not when their victims didn't deserve it. not when their victims had more of a right to seek them out.

which was why, as you stood uncomfortably with chad, danny, tara, and sam, listening to tara and chad bicker with danny about how he pulled them on and split mindy and ethan up from them, your eyes were set on every person around you. everyone was dressed in costumes, as it was finally halloween day. but that meant that more people were wearing stab masks everywhere around you.

"i don't understand why we couldn't have just taken my car," you muttered, eyes set on every person wearing a stab made. beside you, tara sighed.

"too many of us. besides, roads are packed right now because of halloween." tara shifted uncomfortably next to you and chad, moving away from the strangers around her. "do you think they'll be okay?" she asked you.

"who, mindy and ethan?" you asked, trying to be nonchalant, as though you hadn't completely broken ethan's heart and your own yesterday.

you kept reminding yourself that it was for the best. but you still felt that ache in your chest just at the mention of his name.

you still had a deal to finish. after everything, it'd be over.

"they'll be okay as long as they stick together," you murmured to tara, making her nod worriedly.

"right. as long as they stick together."

the lights flickered on the subway, making you freeze and hover your hand over your side. you had brought your gun (which you had stolen, of course) with you and a knife. two things that would be incredibly incriminating if any of the group were to see you with it, but you couldn't just go into the plan empty handed. you were taught better than that.

besides, how do you think you survived this long? by following the rules and not bringing a gun around with you during your heists?

the lights flickered on again, making you and the group relax slightly. holding tightly onto the pole of the subway, your body swinging with every movement, you could only hope that you wouldn't have to use the gun too much.

you had killed before. you were willing to kill again.

halloween night was in full swing, full of traffic and busy streets. the ground was slightly damp from the unexpected rain that happened through the day, but the clouds had cleared up to reveal a starless sky. kirby led you and the others to the theatre yet again, urgently pushing all of you in and using her card to open the gate.

"i cleared the place before you all got here." the gate slammed behind kirby as she turned to all of you (except for danny, who sam had told to not join). "so this is the only way in or out. he steps in through the first door, both doors lock automatically, trapping him inside." a triumphant smirk appeared on her face. "we turn it into a kill box."

"weapons?" sam asked with her arms crossed over her chest.

"one gun, and i hold onto it," kirby said. you and sam sent her a disapproving look, and she rolled her eyes. "i'm the only one with a badge here, and that's the way it's gonna be."

if only she knew about the gun on your side. and the knife on your other side. her blissful obliviousness made you bite back a laugh. if only they knew.

"we're safe here," kirby said reassuringly, her words making you narrow your eyes out of doubt.

"i'm gonna check in with mindy. see if they're close," sam said, walking away with tara and chad trailing near her. kirby's eyes were set on you, her obvious suspicion making you raise a brow.

"what?"

"you don't like the plan?" kirby asked you with a tilt of her head.

you shook your head confidently. "no. it all seems too easy—" your phone buzzed in your hand, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes when you saw an unknown caller calling. "hello?" you asked as you held the phone to your ear.

"y/n?" ethan's panicked voice made your eyes widen, your heart dropping. "mindy's at the er— the killer stabbed her in the hand. like right through. i'm outside, can you let me in?"

you glanced at kirby, who gave you a warning look. she didn't trust him— rightfully so, from her perspective —but you nodded to the gate.

"open the door and stay here. let us both in." you told the agent, trying not to let your obvious distrust for her (you had been running from policemen for years, and she was fbi) show on your face.

the gates creaked open as you walked down the steps of the gate, unlocking and opening the door for ethan. he looked more disheveled than usual, his eyes clouded over with worry, stress, and what seemed to be hurt when he saw you. "thanks," he breathed, and you nodded, making your way back up the stairs and through the gate kirby held open for you.

"where's mindy?" kirby asked him, and ethan pulled out his phone, showing mindy on a stretcher, ready to go into the ambulance. she was flipping off the camera witt her non injured hand (typical, and you smiled a bit at the sight) but she was okay. an unreadable expression befell kirby's face, but she nodded with a sigh. "fine. you two stay here.. i'm gonna clear the area upstairs one more time."

you nodded stiffly, already tensing up just by being around the brunette next to you. but you had to work with him, you knew that. you told him yourself. coughing awkwardly, you moved away from him, walking to look around. "are your web things with you, or.."

ethan avoided your gaze, nodding his head once as he looked around the area around you. "i'll use it only if i really need to," he mumbled.

the lights were working, but old, making them flicker and fade ever so slightly. the smell of asbestos and old wood filled ethan's nose, and with every flicker of light, he could feel himself tensing up more and more. ethan found himself staying around you as a result, as though he was seeking the comfort of your presence. and you let him— because you were seeking the comfort of his presence too. "i'm guessing you have your stuff, too?"

"couldn't bring my gloves without being horribly obvious," you muttered in response. letting out a sigh, you leaned against the door. your mind had been on edge ever since you willingly entered the theatre, the possibility of something happening out of nowhere weighing heavy on your mind. sucking in a shaky breath and exhaling, you could feel his brown eyes finally look at you. picking up on all the details. all his observations.

"i'll let you know when something is happening because of the.. uh.."

"spider tingle?"

"i like to use the word sense, but sure." ethan swallowed thickly. he sighed, the exhaustion getting to him. he pinched his nose bridge. “i was able to stop the killer from doing more to mindy.. they still injured her regardless.”

you were silent for a few seconds, weighing your options and responses in your head. “i told you that you’re stupid if you blame yourself for stuff like that.”

"i know."

"don't blame yourself for something that you couldn't avoid from happening."

and before he could respond, the lights went out. "y/n?"panic settled into his bones as ethan immediately walked to where you were standing, his chest accidentally bumping into you.

"i'm fine—" the sound of a whirring overhead and what sounded like cheesy movie music began to echo from the theatre nearby, making you and ethan walk towards it, your hand hovering over your knife. ethan walked in front of you before pushing the black curtain out of your way.

you made eye contact with sam, who looked just as confused as you did as the three of you stared at the movie play out. it was a stab remake— a poor one, you noted —that looked like every other stab homemade remake on the internet.

but your focus on the movie made you fail to notice ethan's frown as he stared at it. he had seen it before, but where?

"we have to get out of here—" sam said you as you led them towards one of the exits, heart jumping into your chest when you came face to face with tara and chad.

"go back, go back now!" ethan yelled, senses going haywire as he grabbed tara and chad, pulling them through the door. he shut the door behind him, turning his back on it as you and the others rushed to the middle of the theatre, looking around you frantically.

"it's kirby! kirby is the killer—" sam rushed out, making chad groan.

"yeah, no shit!"

"the entire theatre is a kill box for us," you breathed, searching all around you for any kind of exit. ethan looked at the balcony view, eyes widening when he saw the exit doors flashing up ahead.

"up there! maybe it leads to the roof?" he sent you a look, and you nodded. you both had to get them out of here. and you were both willing to put your own lives at stake for that.

"let's go, let's go—"

ethan lunged forward right as the killer jumped from behind the theatre, pushing tara aside. she only received a cut on her arm, but another swing gave ethan one too. he groaned at the slice his arm received, the deep cut making annoyance thrum through his veins.

sam dodged the killer's swing over her head, and chad ducked under before the killer could stab him. but before the killer could swing low and slice chad, you lunged at his side, tackling him to the ground. "go!" you yelled to the others, shoving yourself off the ground.

ethan grabbed the camera behind you, swinging it towards the killer before they could get back up. he shot them with webs, unable to stop himself from wanting to slow them down. even with the mask, you could see the genuine shock the killer had on their face as they made quin work of trying to get out.

"c'mon!" grabbing his hand, you ran to the back where the others were. ethan made you run ahead of him (much to your chagrin). if anyone was going to get hurt, it might as well be him.

ghostface was hot on your heels and it was much too cramped and small of a space for you to turn around and shoot them, especially since ethan was in the way. so you could only grab his hand in yours, dragging him behind you as you ran behind chad.

you ran into the snack bar, ethan throwing down the popcorn machine behind him. but ghostface prevailed; he lunged after chad, who dodged one of the killer's swings before they forced themselves onto him, pinning him against the wall. you, tara, and sam all forced the killer off of him, before the killer send a punch towards you that you narrowly ducked under to grab your knife at your side, stabbing them in the stomach, twisting it, and pulling it out.

"what the fuck—" sam's eyes widened in fear when she saw your weapon, realization dawning over her face. you hadn't said anything to kirby about being armed.

"you?" tara asked, horror ghosting over her face.

"no! not me— why would you come to this place and not be armed?" you yelled in exasperation, ethan moving quickly past you to tackle ghost face to the ground, his advanced strength making him over power him easily. ethan turned to you and the others, eyes frantic as he yelled, "go!"

your eyes widened in horror when you saw two other killers appear from the sides, their knives flashing. one jumped on top of him, but ethan had already sensed them, grabbing their arm and throwing them off of him. but then another came up to his side, shoving him to the ground, giving the other two time to stand up.

"ethan—" you screamed, already grabbing for your gun, but chad was already grabbing you.

"y/n, let's go!" chad yelled as tara and sam ran back into the theatre.

"i have to help him—" you protested, reaching for your gun and pulling it out, shooting at one of the ghost faces. it hit their shoulder, making them turn around eerily. their blood seeped into the black fabric of their cloak, but you knew that a single bullet wouldn't stop someone determined for revenge.

ethan shot a web at their feet, stopping them from walking further towards you, his eyes panicked when he saw two of them turn their attention to you and chad.

"did he just shoot a fucking web?!" chad screamed, his movements faltering and making you escape his arms, pointing your gun at one of the ghost faces and shooting repeatedly before shooting the other.

your face fell when you saw they barely winced. they were wearing bulletproof vests.

one of the killers was still focused on ethan, and with his mind solely on your protection, he failed to stop the knife from sinking into his side. you watched in horror as the killer twisted it, the wet sound of gushing blood making anger run through your body.

you watched as the light dimmed in his eyes, ethan's face paling as his eyes stayed on yours. the killer grabbed at his wrists, feeling the web shooters and tearing them off of his body and slamming them to the ground. the two killers who were webbed cut themselves free and advanced towards you.

"ethan—" you screamed, aiming your gun and trying to get a good shot, to no avail. one of the killers swiped at your stomach, making you narrowly dodge it. chad punched them before they could try more. but as your attention was on them, you failed to miss the quick swing the other killer made towards your arm, cutting deeply along the expanse of it and making you drop your gun.

immediately, you tried to go for it, injured arm desperately reaching for the gun as one of the ghost faces did the same. you kicked them in the stomach, grabbing your gun and hiding it as they tackled you. their knife was right in front of your face, threatening to stab you right in the eye. you could see the shine of the blade right in front of you as you screamed, using all your strength to get them off.

ethan shoved off the killer with his strength, ignoring the pain as he ran up to the killer on top of you, grabbing them and throwing them against the wall. chad kicked the ghost face he was taking care of in the stomach, his hand on the new stab wound on his side before running into the theatre. "let's go!"

"c'mon, c'mon, c'mon," ethan said, pushing you and chad into the theatre, slamming the door shut behind him. he felt your hand over his hand, applying more pressure to his stab wound, and he offered you a strained smile. "y/n, i'm gonna be okay."

you swallowed the worry that brewed in your throat, not giving him a response. blood seeped through your hand.

"dad! dad i fixed it, i swear i fixed it—" you sobbed, shaking your unconscious father. you could feel the blood that stained your hands, the warm liquid slowly turning cold.

ethan grabbed your hand, pulling it away from his stomach and squeezing it. his eyes immediately clouded over with worry when he saw the large gash that ran up your arm, the blood seeping from the deep cut like a faucet. it reached all the way up to your palm, making you hold your gun in your nondominant hand.

the three of you ran towards sam and tara, who were standing in the middle of the huge shrine. your back was to tara's as you held the gun up, watching as the ghostfaces came up all around you. it stank of the poignant smell of iron, the blood spilling out of all of you filling the air with its stench.

the sound of a gun ricocheting made you all duck. kirby, crazed with blood flowing from the side of her face, pointed the gun all around the theatre.

"you," you seethed, eyes narrowing as you began to raised your gun at her.

"it was you the entire time," sam breathed, making kirby shake her head quickly.

and as if it was all on cue, detective bailey walked into the theatre, his own gun pointed at kirby. he was practically vibrating in anger as he spat, "was it you? did you kill my daughter?"

"dad?" ethan asked in shock, face falling when he saw him. but something was wrong. something was horribly wrong, and he felt it more than he felt everything else. that pit in his stomach that foreshadowed what was coming.

"she killed her, ethan!" wayne snapped at his estranged son. "she killed our quinn!"

"jesus christ! whatever he's been saying to you, don't listen to him— he's probably the killer!" kirby hissed, making you look at detective bailey, your gun still pointed.

your eyes narrowed as it travelled down to the white webbing stuck on the side of his shoe. and right as kirby screamed that something was right behind him, you shot at his side. but it was too late; two shots already hit kirby, making her fall to the ground. and immediately, his gun was pointed to you. ethan immediately moved in front of you, his hand on his bleeding side.

looking down at the gunshot into the side of his torso, wayne grinned, pulling his shirt up to reveal his bullet proof vest. police grade— of course. "good job," wayne praised, a sadistic smirk appearing on his face. both the ghostfaces walked up next to him, their knives stained with your blood in their hands. "both of you."

"you?" tara asked, and wayne shrugged.

the cop rolled his eyes. "ah, 'course it's me. i honestly expected more from the two of you after what you did to us," wayne said with a growing smirk. "i'm sure ethan here can tell you all about it."

"what?" ethan felt everyone's eyes on him, realization on his face when he connected the dots. all the effort to get away from what is older brother did. all the effort me made to change his name, to move across the country, to leave his own family because despite how he grieved, ethan never forgave richie for what he did. all the lies his father said about wanting to escape from richie's crimes.

he lied to him.

"ethan, what is he talking about?" you asked ethan, expecting him to deny something. anything. to say that his father had just gone batshit, to say that his father was just trying to drag him into his killing game.

but ethan stayed silent, avoiding your eyes.

"ethan, what're they talking about?" chad asked again warily, backing away from his roommate, tara right behind him as he protected her.

"you didn't.." ethan breathed, and suddenly he felt like he was sitting alone at richie's funeral again, silently seething as his mother and father praised him for being such a wonderful man, for being such a wonderful son, even though they knew they were raising a future murderer. "you killed her? you killed quinn?" he asked, his voice breaking as he felt the bitter taste of pennies in his mouth.

"how 'bout you tell them your real last name, ethan?" wayne pushed further ignoring his words and pointing his gun at you aggressively. "about who you really are? tell everyone! including your fucking girlfriend here—"

"fuck you," you growled, and wayne's eyes shone bright in anger.

"you weren't part of the plan. you and that pathetic excuse of a son," wayne yelled, his gun pointing to ethan now. he was careless as he waved it around, obviously at the brink of sanity. and then, he broke into mirthless laughter, still pointing his gun towards whoever he pleased. "take off your masks."

the ghostface to his right tore off their mask, revealing a woman with dirty blond hair and an angled face. she was tall, around the same height of wayne, and her thin lips were in a sadistic smirk. her siren-like eyes stared daggers into tara and sam, and you would've crossed her off as some psychopath extra character if it weren't for the color of her eyes, which made your face fall; they were the same golden brown hue as ethan's.

"ethan," his mother crooned, voice dripping with disdain as she eyed her youngest child with contempt. "you've grown," she drawled, unimpressed eyes looking over him.

"mom," ethan breathed, his face paling. he could hear his blood roaring in his ears and his skin pricking with goosebumps as his senses went haywire. suddenly, he was hyperaware of every fiber of his clothing sticking to his skin, of how there was win rushing into the theatre from the exit doors on the roof, and how his mother was looking at him the same way she looked at weeds in her garden back home.

and to make matters worse, the other ghostface removed their mask too, revealing familiar red hair that made ethan's throat run dry and tears well in his eyes.

his sister always had eyes that he had been envious of; they were grey, like a constant storm that would brew over the ocean. he always thought they were so cool, much cooler than his brown ones, but when he looked into quinn's eyes, he saw no constant storm. he saw that sociopathic glint that richie always had when ethan did something that he hated. that glint that showed no remorse, no care, and no love.

"hey, roomies," quinn dragged out, her smile not quite reaching her eyes as she stared at tara and sam as though they were her prey. and then, and then, she turned to ethan. and the way she looked at him.. it was as though he hadn't grieved for her the entire week. as though he didn't constantly blame himself for not doing more to save her, as though he wasn't the same boy she used to care for as a child.

quinn looked at him as though he was a parasite.

"quinn," ethan choked out, voice cracking as tears began to blur his vision. he wanted to bring himself to be happy, to hug his sister and scold her for ever making him go through that mental turmoil, but ethan didn't move. because he realized that quinn would easily make him go through it all again without a care in the world.

"hey, baby brother," quinn said in acknowledgement, grey eyes of steel sparking with fire as her smile turned into a grin. "nice to see you finally got some," she said, eyes flicking to you as she took a step forward.

"you better back up," you hissed, pointing your gun right at her and making quinn's face contort in anger.

"you're a fucking bitch," quinn sneered, pointing her knife at you. ethan grabbed your arm, moving his body to protect yours. quinn laughed. "of course ethan would get attached to a fucking liar just like he is."

"ethan, tell us the truth right now," sam said lowly, making you grip your gun tighter.

"yes, ethan," ethan's mother said, narrowing her eyes at her son in anger. "tell them the truth."

ethan's jaw clenched as he shook his head. "you know i was trying to get away—"

"say our last name, ethan!" wayne yelled, making ethan jump. never had he felt so much like a child again, crying as he was blamed for yet another one of richie's sadistic 'pranks' that borderlined torture.

and just like ethan did when he was a kid, he began to plead.

"dad, please—" ethan forced out through gritted teeth, only for wayne to laugh in disbelief.

"ethan kirsch." ethan's mother spat, as though the mere mention of his name on her lips brought poison to her tongue. "the name i gave him when he was born was ethan kirsch." she flashed a smile at sam, tara, and chad. "sound familiar?"

he couldn't breathe. the constant onslaught of reveals and the realization crashing over him made him unable to move. he was only vaguely aware of tara and sam's reactions as they finally connected the dots, of chad's loud questions as he desperately tried to get him to talk, and his family's demands for him to speak. it was all jumbled up for him as his breathing and heartbeat quickened.

and he could only feel you move in front of him as though you had the superpowers, not him. your gun was aimed at the three of them, shaky breaths escaping you as you put yourself between ethan and his family.

another person's history didn't dictate you own. you knew that first hand. and to hear sam and tara yell at ethan for lying, for being a traitor and for never uttering a word of his connection to richie, and to had chad stay quiet because he knew he saw ethan shoot a web moments before, that ethan was spider-man, and yet he stayed silent, only protecting tara behind him.

quinn and her mother began to walk around the theatre, slowly circling the four of you as they looked at you like wolves with their prey. quinn jumped forward, slashing tara's arm teasingly, a laugh escaping her lips as tara yelped in pain.

"i don't know what you believe," sam began, keeping an eye on ethan's mother as she circled them slowly. "but i didn't commit those murders in woodsboro—"

"they're not here for that, ethan said warily, sniffing harshly as he glared at his father. despite the sensory overload, his anger still shone through as clear as day. "they're here for richie."

wayne scowled at that, his eyes darting to ethan for a second before returning to sam again. "we know you didn't commit those murders in woodsboro— what, do you think this is based on some bullshit conspiracy theory? who do you think started all those rumors about you in the first place?”

quinn raised a knife-wielded hand towards sam, smiling triumphantly. you could hear wayne's sadistic laugh behind you. "do you know how easy it was to turn sam from the hero of woodsboro," she said with faux dreamy eyes, "into the villian? how easy it is to convince the world to believe the worst in people, rather than the best."

"and all the best lies boil down to one truth; that you, sam," wayne said, pointing a finger towards her, "are a killer."

"she was never the killer, dad," ethan scowled, pointing a finger to him, "you and mom raised one and did nothing! nothing, because you were just as fucking insane as he was!"

quinn jumped forward and tried to slash ethan's bicep, only for his other hand (which was supposed to keep pressure to his wound) grabbed her wrist. he kicked her back against the glass case, golden brown eyes now brass as he glared at her. "you don't get to talk about him like that!" quinn hissed. "you were just jealous of him. jealous because he was the son you never could be—"

"shut up."

your eyes met sam's, her eyes set on the gun you could barely wield due to your injured. wordlessly, you nodded, backing away from ethan until your back met sam's. your gun slowly lowered and you made a quick switch into her hand. your uninjured hand grabbed your knife and held it up.

"you can ask our parents now!" quinn yelled in disbelief, eyes crazed and dilated with adrenaline. "go on, ethan, ask them! 'was i never as good as richie?' i can tell you the answer now if you want—"

your fist collided with her face before she could say another word. the sickening crack of her nose made the pain in your body all the more bearable. your injured hand grabbed ethan's as sam shot at ethan's mom's leg, making her move away from you quickly.

you all tried to make your way to the ladders, the three of them immediately running after you and stopping you yet again.

"real great parenting job, by the way," tara said with a sneer, making quinn's eyes flare in anger over her bloody nose.

"shut your whore fucking mouth," quinn screamed, making sam shoot at her before she could step closer. the bullet grazed her ear, narrowly missing her head, and the redhead grinned at ethan's avoidance in looking at her. "what, can't handle a little blood?"

ethan only ignored her.

"did i overindulge in richie's love for these little movies? yeah," wayne sighed. "maybe! for me they're just a little dark. but.. " tears welled in his eyes, making yu grip the knife tighter in your hand as he stared at ethan. "richie really loved them. didn't he, ethan?"

"don't even talk to him," you snapped, making wayne grab your injured arm, his thumb burying into the gash inside of it. the feeling of his finger inside the fresh cut made you scream in pain, the sound echoing in ethan's mind and making him see red.

he shoved his dad hard, hard enough that he nearly stumbled and his back hit the edge of the stage. above his head, the sight of a young richie made ethan's blood rush louder in his ears, the sight of his oh-so-innocent looking older brother making him almost physically sick. and wayne only laughed a maniacal laugh at ethan's face.

"your girlfriend's fiesty!" wayne laughed. "richie would have loved her." he said, watching as your face contorted in anger.

"you better shut up," ethan growled, brows furrowing as his fists clenched at his father's words.

sam was practically shaking with anger, the gun pointed right at wayne as she forced out, "what happens next? what, after you're done with us, you'll just disappear?"

"no! i gotta hurry over to the hospital to make sure mindy and gale won'e pull through— which will be harder because my dear son decided to intervene with mindy's stabbing last minute — because everybody dies, sam!" he pointed the gun right at her, ignoring the gun she had in her hand. "everyone who had anything to do with the death of my son suffers and dies."

yells of encouragement from wayne's wife and his daughter echoed in theatre. "so now," wayne said lowly, "sam, put on the mask."

sam's eyes fell, as she sighed, the indifferent look on her face making tara look at her in disbelief at what she was doing. "he was.. so pathetic."

"maybe not the best time to say that, sam!" chad said, hands gripping a brick he had found earlier.

"what? no he wasn't." wayne said, gun aimed straight at sam's chest.

"yeah, your son," sam said, finally looking up at wayne with emotionless eyes. "he was a man baby who made his girlfriend do all the killing." her eyes darted at you, your head lowering slightly in understanding. "he was a limp dick little fuck who cried before i slit his throat."

"shut the fuck up!" quinn screamed, running towards sam before chad slammed the brick against her head. sam immediately shot at ethan's mom, who ducked under her shots and tried to lunge towards her, making her dodge it quickly, groaning when she felt a cut to her stomach.

using your uninjured nondominant hand, you threw the knife at wayne, making it lodge deep inside his side before ethan kicked the hilt, making it dig deeper. his scream of pain only fueled you as you and the others took advantage of his weakness and ran. tara began climbing up the ladder with sam and chad hot on her heels.

but you and ethan stayed behind.

"go with the others! we'll take care of this!" ethan yelled at them, tara's eyes widening when she looked down at the both of you.

"are you crazy?!" tara screamed frantically, climbing into the balcony and looking down at you. "come with us!" a shot towards her made her duck, chad immediately going to cover her with his arm.

"we have to go," chad urged her, pushing her towards the exit.

you turned away from them, swallowing thickly as you looked at where wayne stood, his gun pointed right at your head. you ducked under another bullet he shot, ethan grabbing your arm and pulling you behind him as you dodged his bullets.

"just like you to run away, ethan!" wayne yelled, knife still in his side as he watched you.

ethan's mom hummed in agreement, golden eyes shining with vengeance as she walked closer and closer to you. "changing your last name," a shot from wayne, "moving across the country," another shot, "ignoring your brother's death!" she stood in front of you and ethan, knife glinting in the dim light. her eyes met ethan's. "i'd rather you have died instead."

that sentence had been circulating in ethan's head much longer than he would admit. hearing her say it only confirmed his past thoughts, but that only made him angrier. with how she treated her, he could barely call her his mother.

ethan's jaw clenched as she lunged forward with her knife, narrowly missing his stomach. he grabbed her head with his hands and kneed her in the face, making her groan but prevail. she slashed at his leg, the pain making him only wince before he was slamming a punch into her face.

a shot that grazed your arm made your head snap towards where it came from. wayne's crazed smile made you immediately duck as another shot was sent towards you, and another, all making you farther and farther away from where ethan was. "oh, y/n," wayne srawled as you hid behind a glass case, eyes darted around as you tried to look for something to defend yourself with.

"you know, we did a search on you— there never was a y/n vaughn until around 10 years ago." wayne peeked behind a glass case, disappointment flashing over his face that quickly disappeared.

the mention of your change of last name made you swallow hard, ears listening to your surroundings behind richie's homemade movie still playing on the projector. "someone went to great lengths to change your name, you know. couldn't even find anything in the department," another peek, only to find nothing behind the case. he scowled at that, his patience wearing thin. "no mention of any parents. no guardians— just child protective—"

you jumped on wayne's back, grabbing the knife from his side and using it to dig it into his shoulder, his gun firing behind him wildly as he tried to get you off of him. but you were far too agile, for as soon as you stuck and twisted the blade, you were gone again, hiding behind some souvenir with the knife in your hand.

a beat followed your attack, the sound only being your rapid heartbeat as you tried to calm yourself. you were weaker now, especially because of your wound that seemed to continuously gush blood.

another beat. another pause.

and then you heard the rapid footsteps.

it made you turn around as ethan fought his mom, and as you turned around you came face to face with quinn mid air as she jumped at you. your duck was a second too late before you found yourself pinned to the floor. your head hit the concrete ground with a sickening crack, the power of it making you dizzy as quinn raised her knife to her throat, her hand holding your wrist with your knife.

"i knew there was something off about you ever since i caught ethan staring at you," quinn seethed, her bloodied mouth and nose dropping blood onto your face. "i also knew," she began to grin bloodily, showing her missing teeth from chad's punch with the brick, "that you were just some slut who wanted to fuck a superhero."

you groaned as her knife pressed deeper against your neck, hard enough to draw blood.

"i should've known little ethan was spider-man. it makes sense you know— he's always been too much of a coward to do shit on his own—"

"you and your family talk too fucking much." you raised your injured hand to your knife, quickly grabbing the hilt before you stabbed her lower abdomen, using the knife to push her off of you and for you to get on top of her. taking your knife out, you raised your knife and stabbed it into her again, listening to her gurgles as you stabbed her again. and again. and again.

but you underestimated her thirst for revenge. quinn's hand went up to stab you in the middle of your torso, twisting it back and forth with a horrible squelch squelch sound. the pain was unimaginable, radiating out everywhere as she forced you off of her. you wanted to get up. you needed to get up, but you had lost so much blood already. consciousness kept slipping out of your fingers as you laid there on the ground, blood seeping out of your mouth.

and yet again, you were alone. you only heard water in your ears, as though you were submerged under the ocean. you knew quinn's dead body was next to you, but she had already long succumbed to her wounds.

and you would've too. it felt as though you were 16 again, sobbing after killing the first two people you had ever killed in your life, desperately needing someone to come along and hold you and comfort you. but as you stared up at the abyss of the black ceiling, you found the abyss staring back at you.

you had no one then and you had no one now. you had pushed everyone closest to you away. you had put yourself here.

and to die alone was a scary thing. to die alone would be to dying just like your father, shot dead right at the edge of freedom, right before he could go home to his little girl.

until you heard him. his frantic voice calling for you, and suddenly, the waves disappeared, and all you heard was him.

and when he saw you, he could only feel panic. ethan had felt all of his family members' deaths as they happened. first his sister, then his mother, then his father, who sam had come back to take care of on her own.

he had no one before, but he truly had no one now. no one except for you. and to see you practically choking on your own blood on the ground, he was frantic because he couldn't lose you.

ethan was too stubborn and too selfish to lose you. maybe he was more like you than he thought.

he rushed to you, lip quivering when he saw the state you were in. "hey— hey—" ethan's hand came to hold yours as he put your head on his lap.

tears pricked his eyes as he looked down at your face, so beaten up and weary, but still looking up at him.

studying him like your favorite painting. taking in the color of his cheeks, the color of his eyes, the color of his lips— everything. and weakly, your hand went up to trace his face like you always wanted to, shaking hands remembering his every angle. his every curve.

"ethan—" you choked on your own blood, tears falling from your eyes as you stared up at him. his lip was cut and he had horrible bruises all over his face, but he was here. you weren't alone. not when he was here.

"i'm here," ethan said, tears dropping onto your face. he swallowed thickly as his senses went off again and his father's anguished scream echoed through the theatre. millions of nerves in his body practically electrified him at once. and there went his father.

"it's over. it's done. it's over, y/n."

but there was no witty remark. nothing but your eyes staring up at him and blinking slowly with every passing second. still staring, still studying, still remembering.

because once you closed your eyes, you'd never be able to see your favorite painting again.

sam walked up to the both of you, face falling when she saw you in ethan's arms. he was holding you so tight to him, your head almost limp as you struggled to stay ground. "the ambulance will be here any minute," she forced out, unable to look at the deep hole in your torso.

"hurry," ethan begged, looking back down at you. his eyes widened as your head began to fall back, his heart pounding out of his chest as he struggled to keep you with him for just a little longer. "stay with me, okay? i need you to—" he choked on his own tears. "i need you to stay with me."

"i'm sorry," you breathed, hand caressing ethan's cheek softly as he cried. you wanted to punch whoever was up there playing with your fate. you wanted to curse them out for making you die now, right when you realized that you would stay as long as ethan asked you to.

"don't say that, please," ethan pleaded, brushing tears from your eyes as he sniffled harshly. "you'll make it up to me. you'll make it up to me for treating me like such shit," he reveled in the weak laugh you let out, his own tearful laugh escaping him, "and we'll be okay. the deal won't matter and we'll be okay."

ethan's lip quivered as he stared at you, your eyes half lidded as you struggled to keep yourself with him. "you just need to stay with me. that's all i want— y/n?" ethan's face fell when your eyes shut and didn't open again. he could feel cold rush through his body as he shook you.

"y/n, c'mon." ethan shook you again, tears blurring his vision as he tried to get you to wake up. he wanted you to open your eyes and smile that genuine smile of yours and call him stupid for ever thinking you'd die just like that. he wanted you to kiss him and tell him that everything was okay and that you would be oaky, and he'd take you to museums and watch you stare at your favorite pieces of art and ramble to him just like he does to you. he wanted that.

but he received nothing of the sort. nothing but the warmth that was slowly disappearing from your body.

"no, no, no, no—" a broken scream left ethan's lips as he hugged you tighter to his chest, his back heaving with repeated sobs. "don't leave me. don't leave me, please don't leave me, y/n," he begged you, pleading with a dying body for something akin to a miracle. ethan was begging something— a person or a god, it didn't matter —to keep you with him. but whoever he was begging to was cruel, because he received nothing. and ethan could only cry as he continued to beg.

the blanket was cold. ironic for its purpose, but that's all ethan could think about as he sat in the ambulance.

his family was dead. he was the last one alive, and maybe he would've felt better about if it he didn't continuously replay the image of the knife he wielded going into his mother's throat. or the sound of her drowning in her own blood before ethan heard his sister do the same.

he blamed it on the heightened senses.

they were retrieving your body now. they had to practically force ethan out first so that his wounds could be dealt with.

his emt was more than mildly surprised when she saw how his blood vessels were steadily healing. she gave him a bandage that he had to stitch up at the hospital (much to his chagrin). but ethan hadn't uttered a word ever since everything happened. his vocabulary didn't seem to stretch past just a few nods, shakes of his head, and grunts. his empty eyes couldn't even look up from the ground.

tara and sam were both getting patched up already. he guessed chad was doing the same, until he felt someone sit next to him with a sigh.

chad didn't say anything. he just sat with him, and maybe ethan appreciated that more.

"spider-man, huh?"

nevermind.

ethan could only nod once. he couldn't even manage a whole spiel on how he got bitten, or how he didn't want chad flaunting that his roommate was new york's friendliest hero. but chad understood that, because he only nodded in response. "nice."

silence enveloped the both of them as they sat next to each other in the ambulance. kirby passed by them on a stretcher, barely hanging on to her life, followed by three body bags. ethan almost turned away just at the sight of them, but he forced himself to look with angry tears slipping down his face.

he wished it was anyone but them. that whoever was behind the mask wasn't the very people ethan was trying to get away from, because it was different to have them be across the country instead of dead in a body bag. he was so full of anger towards them. for being so encompassed with revenge and vengefulness that it led to their own demise, that they hated ethan so much that they were willing to kill all his friends and him, that they resulted in your death. your lifeless body on the ground with a gruesomely made hole in your torso.

but then he saw the last stretcher come out, and his throat ran dry. it was you, attached to an oxygen mask and barely hanging on, but it was you.

#AUTHOR'S NOTE— posting this right before finals week lol but i hope you guys enjoyed! remember, there's still an epilogue so look out for that

#TAGLIST— @ethanlvndry , @iloveneilperry , @starsfilm , @goosenoggin , @aminatic , @wenvierismycomfort , @l5byrinth , @wroetoslut , @briefwinnerpersonaturtle , @oliviapopewannabe , @wzrlds , @raggedyoldwitch , @hotweeb , @marsyay78 , @valenftcrush , @bonkyandsteeb3000 , @bubs-world , @danis-stuff-is-here , @nuhteyam , @ravenstrueluv , @taeversity , @heartipods , @gcidrvsh , @theapulidooo , @volturi-girl-imagines , @duolingofanaccount , @buorke , @grxcisxhy-wp , @strangerdangerwrites , @mrslandryy , @michaelangdonsslut , @netey6m

Changes

Pairing: Thanos (Choi Su-Bong) x Reader

Summary: Su-Bong's back on the stage, but when an familiar face reappears what will happen?

Warnings: Mentions of drug use

Word Count: 2,992

Comments: Straight up dedicating this part to the anon that guessed who was gonna show up 😂 Hope you all enjoy this part, I'm so excited to see what you think! 💕

<- Part 6

The streets were buzzing as you made your way across the city. The neon lights flickered above you as people spilled out of bars. You clutched your phone, glancing down at Su-Bong’s latest text.

‘I’ll be looking out for you 👀’

Heat rose in your cheeks at his words. It was silly how easily he got to you, how such a short text could leave you grinning like crazy.

You hadn’t been to this kind of gig before, rap music wasn’t exactly your thing, but this wasn’t about the music. It was about him. You hoped it went well, hoped that he’d feel good up there, and hoped that he knew you were rooting for him.

The venue wasn’t as small as he’d let on. From the outside it had a grungy feeling to it, with graffiti and old posters littering the walls, but when you got inside it was overflowing. There was a good few hundred people, the air was dense from how closely everyone was packed together. 

The bass from the act on stage shook the floor beneath you as you weaved your way over to the bar. You ordered a drink and took a slow sip, trying to take everything in. 

The warm haze of the stage lights cast a glow over the crowd. The air was electric, but you couldn't stop your mind from drifting to Su-Bong. Was he nervous? Excited? You glanced to the side of the stage, hoping you could catch a glimpse of him but it was too dark. 

As the set ended the crowd cheered. You exhaled, making your way into the crowd to get a good spot. Would Su-Bong be performing next?

A DJ filled the pause with a low, steady beat. You tapped your fingers against your cup whilst the people around you swayed, their voices mixing into a low murmur of anticipation.

A tech guy jogged across the stage, adjusting the mic. The lights dimmed for a moment, the anticipation was thick in the air. Then, the beat dropped, heavy and pulsing through the air, and Su-Bong stepped out onto the stage.

The crowd surged forward as the stage lights flooded over him. But something caught you off guard. His hair.

The familiar purple was gone, replaced by a striking bleached white. It was a bold change, one he hadn’t mentioned to you, a way to show he wasn’t the same person anymore. It suited him effortlessly.

Before you had much time to focus on it he took the mic. And then it was like he had the room in the palm of his hand. 

You’d never seen anything like it, the way he completely owned the stage. He was confident, like he belonged up there, like he was built for this. You were sure you were watching someone doing what they were born to do.

As the first song faded out, he took a breath, taking a moment to look out across the crowd. He was searching for something. No, for someone. You.

His eyes finally found yours and it was as though the rest of the world faded away, the noise of the crowd, the flashing lights, the bass, it all just melted away. In that moment there wasn’t anyone else, it was just the two of you. 

His entire face lit up, and as he began his next song he kept his eyes on you. Something unspoken passed between you with every word he rapped. Your heart thundered in your chest in time with the beat. 

You watched on, transfixed as he moved across the stage. The rhythm of his words was effortless, the music travelled through him shaping the way he carried himself.

The intensity in his voice deepened as his set went on, his presence growing bolder. Every time he glanced your way a shiver went down your spine. It was electric, he was electric.

As the final song reached its peak, he poured his all into it. His voice, his movement, his energy, it was awe inspiring. The final note echoed out and the crowd seemed to take a breath before erupting with applause. You clapped and cheered as loud as the rest of them. You were so happy for him, so proud. 

The crowd was still buzzing as the next act set up but you could barely focus. The rush of Su-Bong’s performance pulsed through you. You needed to see him.

Slipping through the crowd you made your way to the exit. The cool night air hit you as you made it outside, a contrast to the heat of the venue. 

You could still hear the bass from out here, muffled by the thick walls but out here everything felt quieter, calmer.

You rubbed your arms against the slight chill as you waited for him to emerge. Your stomach fluttered as you caught sight of him stepping out from a side door, where a couple of people were waiting to ask for pictures with him. He looked so at ease, flashing a cocky grin as he posed. 

Then, his eyes found you and he began to make his way over. Your excitement spilled out the second he was close enough, ‘Su-Bong, that was amazing! You were amazing! & look at your hair-’ your rambling was cut off as he reached you and engulfed you in a hug. He lifted you off the ground with ease, causing a surprised laugh to bubble out of you. 

‘You see that Señorita?’ he asked joyously. 

Your hands gripped his shoulders instinctively, clinging to the feeling of being so close to him. ‘I saw, they loved you!’ Up close you could see the sparkle of adrenaline still in his eyes.

He smiled at your reply and something softer took over his exhilaration. ‘What about you?’ 

Your breath hitched slightly at the way he looked at you. His hands still holding your waist, keeping you close. ‘I loved it too, I can’t wait to see you perform again, but there is just one thing…’

He furrowed his eyebrows slightly before he followed your gaze. ‘It’s the hair isn’t it?’

‘You could’ve warned me! I almost didn’t realise it was you!’ You teased.

He laughed with you and remained smiling down at you. The laughter faded and neither of you said anything for a moment. The noise of the city hummed around you but it felt distant, like you were back in your own little world. You were hyper aware of everything. His hands on your waist, the lack of space between you, the way his eyes flickered across your face. 

It should make you nervous. Maybe it did, but at the same time you didn’t want him to let go. You wanted to stay in this moment, to commit it moment to memory, to let it mean more than either of you were saying out loud.

Then- ‘Hey man, can I get an autograph?’

The moment shattered like glass. He let out a small sigh before pulling away from you, his hands lingered on your waist until the last possible moment. You took a small step back, trying to ignore the way his warmth lingered on your skin.

He signed quickly, exchanging a few words before finally turning back to you. The energy between you had shifted, the interruption cooling whatever it was you had going on. 

‘C’mon let’s get outta here,’ he said as he ran his hand through his freshly bleached hair. ‘We can grab some food on the way.’

You blinked at him, hesitating. ‘Shouldn’t you stay? Celebrate your comeback?’

He tilted his head, trying to hide the small smirk with a shrug. ‘Nah I don’t wanna stay out, would rather go back to yours.’

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him he should stay out. He deserved to celebrate properly, but before you could get a word out he was already walking, his decision made. 

All you could do was catch up and fall into step beside him, trying to bite back a smile that might give away too much.

The weeks that followed both felt familiar and different. He still walked you home from work, still filled most of your evenings with his usual antics. But now, sometimes, those evenings ended in dimly lit venues with his voice filling the space.

You never missed any of his shows. You loved to watch him, he belonged on the stage. With every performance he settled further into it, getting used to working under his real name rather than a stage one. 

Not much had changed between you, not on the surface at least. You wrote the moment after his first show down to adrenaline, you were both so excited that you weren’t thinking straight. But sometimes, when you caught him looking at you from across the room, or when his arm lingered around you just a little longer than before, it was hard to pretend that nothing had changed.

You tried to act like things were the same, like the feeling creeping up your spine when he was close wasn’t new. Like your pulse didn’t pick up when his fingers brushed yours. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything, and neither did you.

It was another one of the nights where Su-Bong had a gig, you were stood outside after. The night's energy still lingered around you as he lit up a cigarette. His hand briefly grazed your arm as he turned to begin walking, but something stopped him in his tracks.

‘Hey Thanos! Heard you were back on stage, wanted to come see for myself!’ 

It was player 124 from the games. You froze next to Su-Bong. You hadn’t seen anyone else from those horrific days. The sight of him sent a cold shiver through you, your stomach twisting into knots. Did he even recognise you? Would he bring up the games? Or was he really just here to see Thanos?

‘Hey Nam-Su,’ Su-Bong replied, keeping it short. He was tense, the air around you feeling heavy.

‘It's Nam-Gyu,’ he muttered, correcting him though he didn’t seem too bothered by the mistake as he stepped closer into your personal space. 

‘Got some new shit I thought you might wanna try,’ Nam-Gyu said casually, as he pulled a small bag of pills from his pocket, shaking them briefly before tucking them away.

You stayed glued to the spot. Keeping an eye on Su-Bong, you noticed the way his jaw clenched.

‘I’m good,’ Su-Bong dismissed him easily, putting an arm around your shoulders and steering you away.

Nam-Gyu let out a short laugh. ‘Really? You can’t get this stuff anywhere else. You’ll love it.’ He was persistent, you'd give him that. 

‘I said no.’ Su-Bong didn’t even look back but his voice was firmer this time.

‘This bitch really changed you didn’t she.’

That halted him.

You felt nausea creep into your chest as Su-Bong’s frame went rigid.

Nam-Gyu smirked. ‘Look at her, probably thinks she’s better than all of us. Isn’t that right?’ You couldn’t help but look over your shoulder, finding Nam-Gyu closing in on you. ‘You keeping him on a leash so when he makes it big again you can cash in?’

The words stung even if there was no truth behind them. But before you had time to fully process them, Su-Bong moved. 

In a flash he’d spun around, shoulders squared and hands clenched into fists. For a moment you were sure he was gonna deck him. Nam-Gyu must’ve thought the same because he flinched. 

But then just as quickly, Su-Bong exhaled sharply. Instead of throwing a punch, he grabbed your wrist and dragged you away. 

His steps were fast, you almost tripped trying to keep up. He didn’t let go, didn’t slow down, didn’t even turn to look at you.

‘Su-Bong!’ you called, trying to steady your breath. ‘Su-Bong stop!’

He didn’t. Not until you were a few blocks away, where he finally released your wrist and began pacing.

‘That fucking asshole!’ He yelled, raking a hand through his hair. ‘Who the hell does he think he is chatting all that shit?!’

You didn’t know what to say, just watched him as anger seeped out of him.

‘I should’ve hit him, asshole deserves it even if he was -’ He cut himself off, his pacing stopped as he remained with his back to you, his shoulders rising and falling unevenly.

‘If he was what?’ You pressed, did he agree with that guy? Thinking you were just with him for money. The thought made your throat tighten

His shoulders deflated, the fight draining from his body. ‘He’s right.’ He sighed.

Your heart broke, after everything how could he think you were using him? A lump began to form in your throat but you forced yourself to talk. ‘Su-Bong,’ your voice shook. ‘I’d never use you like that, surely you know that?’

‘Huh?’ His head snapped up and for the first time since Nam-Gyu had appeared he looked at you. The anger was gone, replaced by something raw. His tense posture softened slightly. ‘Señorita, I know that.’ His voice was gentle as he stepped towards you, close enough to chase away the chill in the air.

‘Then what was he right about?’ Tears stung the corner of your eyes as you tried to brace yourself for the answer.

‘You’re better than me… you always have been.’

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes widening. He couldn’t mean that.

‘Don’t act like it’s such a surprise,’ he muttered, voice laced with something bitter. His hands flexed at his sides, clenching and releasing as if he was fighting the urge to reach out. ‘Fuck, look at me, I don’t know why you still let me hang out with you.’

You watched him closely, his words settled over you. Your chest felt tight as anticipation curled inside of you. ‘What are you saying?’

He swallowed hard, eyes flickering to the pavement below. ‘I can barely keep my shit together, you don’t deserve that,’ he admitted. ‘That night when I showed up at yours… You shouldn’t have to deal with that shit.’

Your mind flooded with images of the night he turned up high, the way he acted, how he’d spoken to you. And then realisation dawned on you, ‘that’s why you disappeared?’

He nodded slightly, ‘thought maybe if I stayed away you’d finally realise you shouldn’t have someone like me around.’ 

But he did come back, he came back when you needed him the most and you had to know why. ‘If you think that, then why did you answer the call?’ you asked, voice sounding a lot steadier than you felt.

He met your eyes again, he looked so vulnerable. ‘It was the middle of the night, I thought something bad might’ve happened.’ He dragged a hand down his face. ‘I told myself I’d stay away but the moment I thought you needed me, I …I just couldn’t’ 

The truth crashed over you like a wave, flooding you with an array of emotions. You felt overwhelmed as the weight of his words settled into your bones. He hadn’t stayed away because he didn’t care, he stayed away because he thought it would be better for you. The realisation almost sent you spiralling, a dizzying mix of warmth and sadness twisted inside of you.

‘I never wanted you to stay away,’ you said. ‘Su-Bong I don’t need you to protect me from you.’

His breath caught, body going still. You could see the conflict behind his eyes. ‘I don’t deserve you.’

‘You don’t get to decide that,’ you felt bold as you carried on. ‘I want you here. I want you.’

He looked as though he was fighting an internal battle as you stepped forward bravely, closing the last bit of distance between the two of you. He opened his mouth to speak but you didn’t let him.

‘You think I don’t deserve to be with a person that makes me feel better? A person that makes me feel safe?’ You let out a breathless laugh ‘Su-Bong you’re an idiot if you can’t see that you’re what I want.’

His eyes darted across your face, searching for any doubt but he didn’t find any.

And then, like a dam breaking, he moved. His hands, warm and urgent, cupped your face. His thumbs grazed over your cheeks, like he was trying to convince himself this was real.

For a split second neither of you moved. His breath fanned over your skin, his forehead almost resting against your own. His grip tightened slightly, like he was afraid to let go.

Then, finally, his resolve snapped. 

Su-Bong kissed you like he had nothing left to lose. His lips were rough, insistent, like it was something he’d been holding back on for so long that it physically hurt. His hands cradled your face like he was terrified you’d disappear if he let go. You kissed him back just as fiercely, because you weren’t going anywhere. 

As the kiss broke, he didn’t pull back completely, holding on to you and taking a moment to ground himself. His hands still cradled your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks as his eyes flickered between yours.

‘I don’t know how to do this,’ he admitted quietly. 

Your heart clenched at the raw honesty in his voice. He was so convinced he wasn’t good enough, so convinced he wasn’t worthy before he even had the chance to try. 

‘You don’t have to,’ you raised your hands, gently curling your fingers around his own. ‘We can figure it out together.’

‘...Yeah?’ His voice was barely above a whisper, hesitant but hopeful.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. ‘Yeah.’

It was though something clicked into place for Su-Bong, like he was finally letting himself believe you. He didn’t say another word, but the way he pulled you in again told you everything you needed to know.

-> Part 8 Coming soon Series Masterlist

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

hii<3 heres a request for ethan where he has a huge crush on the reader but the reader has a really terrible boyfriend & ethan confesses when he sees the boyfriend cheating and its just a bunch of angst. sorry this is all long i hope you can get to this! love ur writing btw !!

HI ANON 🩷🩷🩷 I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS IDEA IM REALLY SORRY I HAVENT GOTTEN THE CHANCE TO GET TO IT BUT I WILL EITHER THIS WEEK OR THE NEXT

When it hits 9 pm and I pull out this combo:

Ps: I have severe writers block. Help

reporting live

trent alexander arnold x fem!reader. fluff. Trent who was rather interested in the reporter than the actual report he had to give.

Time was ticking on a thin thread for you as your supervisor might call you within five minutes if you do not interview, at least, one player of liverpool. You have been in the reporting field for at least seven months and you now also have juniors yet for you to move like an amateur was hurting your pride.

You are social issues reporter, going around different cities, and write an interesting jaw-dropping report then, call it a day. Sport reporting was not your forte, it is almost like . . fork found in your backpack. Simply out of place. The million dollar question ringing in your head was why were you here in Anfield Stadium at the first place but you face-palmed yourself on accepting to cover for your senior who was in her maternity leave. You had always hated whenever you had to cover for a reporter doing sports. No particular reasoning, just childhood trauma.

You saw all the liverpool footballer players walking out from the dressing room after a hot win. You crossed path with the tall, charismatic dutch leader of liverpool to the small growing liverpool superstar Endo but you had your goal set on the biggest prize, the player with a fresh trim, and his headphone on as every reporter tried catching his attention.

Trent Alexander Arnold, the star of Anfield and liverpool. Your supervisor might as well, move you to the Sports section if you got to interview Trent; you were not looking forward to that but a lady has bills to pay. You sighed as you had to save your job before it slipped away from your grip.

Just one interview, anyway. What is the harm? You held the sleeve of his tracker suit lightly, you needed this, you needed a bang.

"Great win in Anfield, innit? Please let us know about how are you feeling about the win?" You asked reaching your microphone out to the man. His gaze froze, so did his feet in front of you. It could be the audacity to block his way toward the team bus or the glitch of mischievousness in his eyes that flickered on your red hue cheeks.

Trent chuckled as he moved slightly forward removing his headphone, your eyes set on the man completely compelled from the bridge of his nose, deep doe eyes to his captivating smile. Everything about the man was setting you up for a failure, realizing how much of a bad idea this was.

"Yeah, yeah it is great team win but to become the last scorer for the win is a different achievement, so I am proud and happy." Trent answered, his eyes never leaving yours for a minute. His heavy scouser accent oozed out every word as Trent kept his smile intact.

His eyes glanced at you, noting the rose hue on your cheeks, one hand slightly shaking to hold onto the microphone and the other holding onto the notebook. "Come here, love. Let me hold that for you." He mumbled gripping on the microphone as your fingers brushed on his and you were secretly praying to every god that was staring upon you to not show your slight jump after the touch.

"Okay so-" You paused, clearly out of the atmosphere as you were in no place to check out players nor drool out your delusional ideas when you have a very angry supervisor waiting on the clock and an impatient cameraman behind you. "Yeah, I cannot lie, you . . you were great in the field." You complimented him quickly but you were not lying about it. With the long passes, and all the chances Trent created for the team; anyone can tell he was born to become a football player who succeeds with legacy.

"You were watching?" Trent asked raising his eyebrows in question. Utterly confused, you paused to flip your notebook to look at the man in front of you. With the silent eye contact, your neck burnt hot. You nodded sternly, a thin smile on your face. "Of course, I was watching, I mean, I am a reporter, can't be missing out on the main point of the whole show."

Trent kissed his teeth, he smirked, "So, tell me more. How was I on the field? Did you like what you see?" He winked at your direction. Your mind went blank, in what position does he have to be to flirt openly with a camera panning on his face? The burning hot sensation on your back came straight up and your heart beating fast was not helping to form words, "Like . . like I said, you were great. You are the star of liverpool after all." You sweetly smiled.

Trent had the cheeky smile on his face, his eyes lingering on your lips before glancing upward to your eyes. He knew what he was doing to you moving closer to the barrier between the reporters and the players.

You cleared your throat. "You are also the player of the match." You trailed off; Trent leaned closer. Call it the stadium being loud for him to not hear you clearly or he simply wanted to be close to you, to mesmerize the small moles on your face, to engulf himself on your warm scent.

"Are you excited for your next big game against Manchester City?" You inquired. All the back and forth staring and silence with Trent will not colour your supervisor impressed at all. You need to interview someone else that will not . . leave you speechless in minutes.

"Well it depends, to be very honest with you. Will you be in the next game?" Trent further pestered.

You furrowed your eyebrows in slight annoyance at the player for making everything about you while the whole fanbase would want to know more about him.

The cameraman behind you almost dropped his equipment taken back by the question. You did not know . . how to respond to the player who was attacking you with his doe eyes. Nervously, you laughed, "I cannot be certain about that. Are you and your team ready? It is one of the anticipated game of the season." You diverted his topic back to what you needed at the first place.

Trent stared at you without responding to your question, you quickly started shaking your leg anxiously as your eyes lingered at almost all the players leaving to go back to the training ground from the stadium. Your chances were blowing every second Trent silent in front of you.

During this period, you started considering finding other jobs, as you started making mental notes. With thoughts looming around your head, you did not come to realize Trent walked a few steps toward you, nibbling on his bottom teeth. He removed the microphone away from his lips, coming forward for a conversation that is sealed between you and the liverpool player.

You flinched at his hot breathe hitting your skin, as he gently held onto your forearm to keep you in position knowing you will move away from his contact.

You coughed away from his grip. "Have a great day then. We cannot wait till what magic liverpool can bring to Anfield once again."

"And you too, have a great day but i did not quite catch your name." He inquired with his wicked smirk playing on his face. He wants me gone, jobless. Clearly, with zero intention to support my penniless lifestyle.

You smiled, "If you do goal against Manchester City, I will let you know."

"Should we seal the deal with a kiss then, perhaps?"

are you willing to write for trent alexander arnold? if so please write something fluffy or something antsy which gets resolved and turns to fluff

it’s you - trent alexander arnold x reader.

quick sum: love is never easy. especially when you least expected it from liverpools finest bachelor. will you finally take the leap of faith, or lose the guy who’s willing to do the extreme for you to see reality.

wc: 1.9k | masterlist | trent’s masterlist

psa🗣️: hi angel! and hello to my trent girlies! i haven’t written for trent before so i hope you enjoy this 🤍

you felt stuck. constantly looking around and avoiding the man that had consumed your thoughts in ways you didn’t picture. feeling awkward and timid when he walked past you or your eyes connected. 

the trip was last minute, you didn’t plan to go if it wasn’t your friend insisting you went since she would be alone. you didn’t want to go, it meant you would have to see trent after you avoided him since he confessed his feelings to you. 

trent wasn’t one to speak much. always reserved and kept to himself, a completely different person on the pitch and in real life. but with you, he felt he could speak for hours about everything, not once get tired of it. you let him be the person he would’ve never pictured to be. 

what went wrong? 

he knew you from the back of your hand. needed to keep yourself busy in order to survive. an almost graduate from uni and working at your dream internship. a small volunteer worker just outside the city. 

he knew when you lied, scrunching your eyes brows and hands twitching. he knew when you felt happy, the small wrinkles and dimples popping on your face. he knew you were upset when you bit your lip and unfocused around your surroundings. 

trent knew you felt the same way he did but this time he couldn’t properly read you, left hurt and confused by your manner. “i’m in love you with y/n… i’ve never felt like this for anyone before. and it feels so right when i’m here, with you.” 

his brows drew in when your smile slowly dropped, pulling your hands back and cleared your throat. “trent…” you whispered, you clenched your jaw unsure of what to say. “i need time to think of this. i-i-i just don’t know what to say…” you stood up and grabbed your coat. 

“say you love me back,” trent prayed in his head, watching you stumble around to retrieve your belongings. “what do you mean? i confess how i feel and you’re running away?” 

“i need time to think. this is all so sudden, and i don’t want to pressure either of us. or give us false hope,” you smiled trying to reason and not break his heart. but trent’s heart broke, a millions thoughts racing in his head and the idea of not being enough tracing back. 

he fluttered his lashes and painfully smiled, was he about to cry? is this what pain felt like? a stab in the heart, millions of needles poking in his chest as his hands fisted. “well you know the way out…” trent motioned with his hand, walking to the side to let you go. 

you approached him, having the urge to explain why you said what you said, but he walked back. tears came out your eyes, knowing you hurt the man you loved in front of you. “trent,” you croaked, but he just shook his head. 

“don’t.” 

not a single soul knew of the two of you. a private secret. he wanted to protect you from his hectic world. and you wanted to have something genuine and real. you had something real. had. but like always you ruined it. like every person who walked into your life, leaving because you were scared. 

trent was straight forward with you. always communicating with you. the only person you found yourself lurking to at the end of the day. his touch lingering on you ever when you weren’t together. the way he smiled made your heart heat up and your hands slightly tremble. 

you didn’t deserve him. you were a broken person. afraid of committing. you were afraid of love. the idea of falling for a person, so hopelessly devoted to them, and in the end for it to not work out. you easily got attached, and it wasn’t any different with trent. 

trent had a way different life than yours. lights, money, women, his job, all shining on him wherever he went. he had a family, friends, a base supporting him, while you it was just your sister and trio. he constantly reminded you he wasn’t the person in the papers, which was true. 

he valued you. he trusted you. he confided in you. he respected you. he loved you. why couldn’t you just allow yourself to be with him? why did it feel hard to finally accept and take the leap of faith and be with the man who has ever truly loved you? 

you were stressed. constantly turning in your sleep. eyes closing but your head refusing for you to sleep. chest rising and falling as you listened quietly to the rain fall. the sheets barely covering your body, and the pillow feeling less fluffy and now hot. with a small groan you stood up, the time reading almost 4 am. 

you tipped tied downstairs. walking by the room your friends and his friends were occupied in. the thunder and lightning shining in the open and clear windows. you opened the cabinet and grabbed a glass, pouring cold water to relieve your dry throat. 

you closed your eyes, hands gripping the counter as you felt goosebumps suddenly rise. “couldn’t sleep?” you gasped quietly, the glass slowly tipping before quickly catching it and standing up straight. trent stood there, bags under his eyes, lips pursed with his arms crossed. muscles flexed under the loose black tee he wore with his black calvin klein boxers. 

“something like that,” you said, averting your gaze, hand coming up to brush your skin or maybe the nerves away. he stepped closer, inspecting you, noticing you were wearing the small black shirt he owned with your batman themed shorts. “same. couldn’t sleep with all the noise outside…” trent confessed, also grabbing a cold glass of water. 

you went quiet. the feeling of guilt consuming your insides as you kept asking yourself if this was truly happening. you couldn’t stop staring, savouring maybe the last few glances in case it would be the last. trying to make a mental imprint of the moles you traced while he slept, the small scar under his brow, his lips. 

your throat went dry again, but this time the cold glass of water wasn’t going to help, the only thing that could was finally take that leap and let him out of misery for the two of you. “trent…” you said softly, hearing him and finally connecting eyes. 

“don’t you think i deserve an explanation?” he asked with a sad smile. you bit your lip and nodded. “yes you do. and i’m willing to explain everything, but i understand if it’s too late,” you respected his feelings knowing he deserved this but also not wanting to push him to the limit. 

“i love you. i do. so much. i need you to know that before i start saying anything,” his eyes widened a bit, mouth opened to say something but you shushed him. “for once in my life, i can’t let you or us go. i made the mistake that night and i beat myself for it. not only did i hurt you in the process but also the idea of us.” 

“i’m scared,” you teared, smiling. “it’s scary to feel this way. to have my heart racing when i hear your name, our song, your voice. love to me always felt like a joke or fantasy. love is about letting someone know your map of flaws and imperfections. to fully be vulnerable.” 

“love with you though? is like a dream come true. you understand me more than i understand myself. you saw me for who i am and not the person i put myself to be. you love me at my prettiest and also lowest. you hold me close, kiss my forehead, and use those words of reassurance i need to hear and always believe.” 

“i love when you sleep next to me, where i get to stare at the prettiest man on earth as you sleep. i love to see your smile get bigger when i tell you about the kids at my volunteer work or my jokes. i love to sit with you at the end of the day and allow me to hear about your job and family. to see the flowers you send or bring when i see you. trent i love you, so much.” 

“i’m scared to lose you. to lose the only person i’ve let into my life this close,” you shrugged smiling painfully, holding yourself tighter as you wiped your tears away. you hear his footsteps approach, sobbing quietly when he pulls you closer to him, his hand brushing your head, feeling his lips kiss your temple. the longing feeling replaced with warmth and safety. 

your skin becoming hot and getting rid of the cold goosebumps and chilling feeling in your chest. you kiss his chest, tip toeing up as you continue to trace his neck and jaw, his cheeks with kisses mixed with your tears. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry trent,” you apologised, your hand gripping his bicep. 

“stop. don’t torture yourself anymore. let me hold you. let me feel you. it’s just you and me, okay? shhhh,” he hushed you, repeating his same movements to help you calm down. you sniffled, pulling back slightly after a minute. “i deserve you. i love you, and your imperfections and flaws. for allowing me to become the man i wished and longed to be.” 

“please don’t push me away anymore. you aren’t ever going to lose me, because what we have is eternal. your love to me is a safe space, the world and women i dreamed of having and i finally have it now. it’s you, always will be you baby,” he brushed your tears away, feeling your lips kiss his wrist and hand, losing himself in your eyes. 

“i love every single part of you.” 

the chilling counter made you hold trent tighter while laughing, feeling and hearing his deep chuckle as his hands traced your thighs. “are you ready now?” he asked, kissing your collarbone. “more than ready,” you said, officially taking the leap of faith. 

he sighed and let his shoulders fall in a relaxed manner and smiling, watching as his eyes closed and lashes touched his upper cheeks. “trent look at me…” he stood up and grabbed your chin, “i love you,” you felt the need to say to confirm your feelings and his. “i love you, pretty girl,” his nose nuzzled into your neck, tracing all the way up to your cheek. 

you sealed the night with the anticipated kiss. getting the blood rush through your veins, as you fully focused on him. his lips feeling like home. his fingers bringing your face closer to his and getting lost in the way he devoured you. not in a rushed or hard manner, in a passionate and loving way. 

“my girl officially.” 

i might need to have a word with southgate if he doesn’t start trent in the final

gotak x f!reader

a/n: just finishing watch S2 and the ending?!?!

warnings: spoilers from whc2

Masterlist

it had been a few months since you first met si-eun’ other friends. they all had very different personalities yet, somehow it worked. they accepted you with open arms when si-eun finally introduced you to them.

gotak in particular was very welcoming with you. he was charming, a little reckless, and he had this way of making everything feel like a game. when you’d hang out both you and si-eun had often rolled your eyes at his teasing—he was relentless. he constantly flirted with you in the most absurd ways and you soon grew accustomed to the way gotak’ attention drifted to you like some kind of magnetic force whenever when you were around.

at first, you’d tried to shut him down politely, then firmly, and eventually, you just ignored him.his playful winks and over-the-top comments weren’t even enough to faze you anymore. it wasn’t that you didn’t find him attractive. he was. but you had no interest in getting caught up within his antics. however, some days proved harder than others.

"you’re so cold” gotak teased, his voice dripping with amusement “you know one of these days, you're gonna fall for me, and i’ll be there to remind you i was right from the beginning”

“keep dreaming” you rolled your eyes, not wanting to humour him.

“trust me i will” he reached an arm to poke your side. this was something you always hated so you responded with an elbow into his stomach.

he let out an amused laugh as he was satisfied that he’d pushed your buttons.

it was a regular evening when everything changed. you and si-eun were walking together in a comfortable silence. you had an airpod in your ear and you both began to cross the road.

you hadn’t noticed until you were on the other side of the road but si-eun was no longer beside you. when you turned to see where he was, he was still in the middle of the road.

phone upto his ear, his facial expression unreadable and within a second it happened. the sound of a truck beeping and then a loud sickening thud followed.

your chest tightened and the world seemed to slow down in a rush of adrenaline. your eyes widened as si-eun laid on the floor unconscious.

he’d been hit by a truck.

“si-eun! stay with me, you’re going to be okay” you yelled as you ran into the road towards his body. you then crouched down beside him as you called for an ambulance.

it felt like hours before they arrived and then you were in the hospital waiting room. it was cold,sterile and suffocating. you held your hoodie around yourself trying to hold it all together. you felt numb.

your hands were shaky as you called jun-tae, you mentioned that something had happened to si-eun and you knew he would pass along the message and your phone soon flooded with messages from your friends saying they were on their way.

the minutes of waiting felt like hours, each minute more agonizing than the last. you’de barely registered the footsteps approaching before you heard the familiar voice of gotak.

“y/n, what happened?” his tone was a lot sharper than usual, his usual teasing replaced by genuine concern.

you head immediately shot up at his voice and you didn’t know how to answer him. your lip quivered as you felt your throat tightening.

you wanted to speak but it’s like the words were trapped inside your throat. gotak noticed this and he took a step closer. concern washed on his face.

“it’s ok, take your time” his voice was soft and tears brimmed your eyes as you looked at him.

“si-eun, he-” you tried speaking but instead burst into tears.

gotak instinctively wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. his hug was protective, warm and almost as if he was trying to shield you from everything. your body stiffened at first but as soon as you felt yourself relax, you then immediately let it all out, unable to stay strong any longer.

his chin rested a top of your head and he didn’t at any point let go.

“it’s okay, im here” his voice was low but comforting “you don’t have to go through this alone”

you remained in his arms for a few minutes more and when you finally calmed down, you slowly pulled away but gotak was hesitant to let you go.

“you’re strong and si-eun. he’ll get through this, ok?” the softness in his voice was something you’d never heard before. it made tour heart ache in ways you least expected.

gotak, who never usually took anything seriously was here and you were now seeing him in a completely different light. he wasn’t just the guy who teased you relentlessly; he was someone who cared, deeply, in his own way.

thenext few days were a blur. you spent most of your time at the hospital, waiting for any sign of improvement from si-eun. gotak was always there, sometimes by your side, sometimes just quietly sitting across the room, his presence comforting regardless.

but you then started to notice the subtle changes in him—the way he no longer flirted with you, the way he would reach out with a soft touch or offer quiet words of support when you needed them most.

hewas there, not as the guy who teased you, but as someone who understood the gravity of the situation. who understood what you currently needed.

one evening, as you sat in the hospital’s waiting area, gotak approached you, looking unusually serious. he stood in front of you for a moment, then hesitated before sitting beside you.

“i’ve been thinking a lot, you know?” he began, his voice uncertain “about everything.”

you glanced at him, surprised by his tone.

“i know i’ve been… an idiot. flirting, teasing you all the time. i guess i thought it was just fun, you know? seeing how riled up you’d get sometimes” he then paused, running a hand through his hair “but, honestly, i don’t want to just be some joke anymore. i want to be here for you. i just don’t know how else to say it.”

your heart skipped a beat as you met his gaze, realizing he was being completely genuine.

“gotak” you whispered, your voice barely audible “what are you saying?”

he shifted closer, his eyes softening “i’m saying i care about you, more than just as friends. i want to be with you in any way you want me. whether it’s a friend or more..”

you didn’t know what to say at first. everything inside you felt tangled, emotions running high. you had seen this side of gotak, but you hadn’t expected it to come out this way.

“you’ve been nothing but amazing to me, you make me feel so cared for and i care for you too” your voice was shaky.

a silence then fell between you both, the weight of your words hanging in the air. gotak then smiled—a genuine, soft smile. he reached out, his hand brushing against yours.

your heart beating fast.

in that moment, everything changed.

as the days passed and si-eun recovered, gotak and you found something new in each other. something more than what had been there before. the teasing and flirtation remained but was overtaken by something deeper, something real.

one evening after a long day, gotak finally leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft kiss. his hands cupped your face as he pulled you in closer. you didn’t resist, instead you melted into the kiss, savouring the moment.

when he pulled back, he smiled, his eyes soft with sincerity which cause you to grin aswell.

“i’ve fallen for you” he confessed “more than i thought i ever could”

“me too” you admitted and he leaned his forehead onto yours and you both linked your fingers together.

“i told you so” the seriousness in his voice disappeared and his usual teasing tone returned “i was right from the beginning”

you let out a laugh, gently shaking your head “whatever”

you playfully rolled your eyes and pulled back from him dramatically to try and make a point but gotak pulled you back in.

“go on, admit it” he smirked and you couldn’t stop smiling.

you really had fallen for gotak.

hard.