Can Someone Help Me/send Me A Tut On How To Link My Masterlist Into My Other Post? I Can’t Seem To

BETA SQUAD FANS UNITE AND GET TO WORK. I NEED MORE STORIES. 🙏

spiderman!ethan brain rot is real

Sickeningly in love literally.

Pairings: Go Hyuntak x Fem!Reader

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

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

W/C: 1,159

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm not—"

"You are."

"No, i'm—"

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

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

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

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

귀염둥이 (cutie)

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

Then a second message followed,

(Gotak): [kiss emoji]

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

.

..

"Holy shit, Y/N."

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

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

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

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

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

"This is tragic."

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

.

..

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

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

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

.

..

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

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

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

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

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

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*ೃ࿐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

I was wondering if you could make a Gotak scenario if you have time. His shy gf has insecurities about not being experienced in dating since Gotak is her first boyfriend. It could be something she bottles up and she eventually tells him her insecurities and feeling like she's not doing enough when she's feeling down. He could like shut her up with a kiss and basically try to get rid of her insecurities.

I’m SO in love with this idea ?! Omg!! Here let me write this for you

I love you just for you - GOTAK

The two of you are curled up together on the couch, your favourite way of spending the afternoon. He’s got his arm around you, thumb brushing over your shoulder, you’d usually enjoy this moment the most you could but this time you simply weren’t able to. Your thoughts are far away, and heavy.

You’ve been quiet for a while now, and he’s noticed. He always does.

“Hey,” he says gently, turning slightly to look at you, his brown eyes searching your face. “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitate. It’s hard to explain, it feels silly, even. But it’s been building in you for a while, and now that he’s looking at you like that, so open, so genuinely caring, you can’t hold it back anymore.

“It’s just…” You exhale, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. “I feel like I’m not good at this. Like I don’t know how to be the perfect girlfriend. You’ve always been so good to me and everyone but I really don’t know how to give it back to you”

His expression softens immediately, and before you can say another word, he reaches out, cupping your face with both hands like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“Stop,” he says, gently but firmly, a smile playing at the edge of his lips. “Stop thinking that.” His lips curve into a soft smile, looking at you in adoration

You try to look away, but he leans in, brushing his nose against yours, a sweet and caring gesture. “You’re already perfect in my eyes, that’s more than enough.”

You open your mouth to protest, but before a single word can escape, he kisses you, soft, slow, lingering. Like he’s trying to press all his reassurance into you without needing to say another thing. Both of his hands holding your face still.

When he pulls away, he gives you the same eyes he always gives you when he’s so grateful of you

“Loving you isn’t about you ticking boxes or knowing all the right things,” he whispers. “As cringy as it sounds, I love you, for you.”

Your eyes sting a little, and you laugh through the tears starting to form. “You’re really good at this, you know.”

He grins, nudging your nose again. “Yeah, but I’m only good because I’ve got the best person to love.”

This side of Gotak is only for you to see, and it really does comfort you.

MY MASTERLIST

Idc in my head the goal counted let’s just pretend one of the 3 were his

jude and trent post match pics please🤞🥹

Five star service

pairing: su-bong/thanos/player 230 x reader, fluff

summary: rollerblader!user heads to a nearby skate park to unwind, only to collide with skateboarder!Su-bong, a reckless skateboarder from your calculus class.

tw/cw: minor injuries, mild language, loser thanos, no squid games au, happens before thanos becomes thanos!!

author's note: i've had this idea in my head for a while but i've never really had the time. Also, this is my first ever fic and my first time posting smth on tumblr, so don't expect it to be the best</3

You hadn’t touched your rollerblades since the start of the fall semester. All those plans of skating to class every day? Dead on arrival the moment you discovered the university’s ridiculous no-skateboarding-or-rollerblading policy on campus pathways. Since then, you’d developed a special kind of hatred for the cyclists cruising by with smug ease.

Now, crouched under your dorm bunk, you unearthed your old pair of blades—the same ones you’d had since junior high. They were dusty, sure, but still functional and that was all you needed. Skating had always been your escape, the one thing you could rely on when everything else felt overwhelming. The wind rushing past, the steady rhythm of wheels against pavement—it was freedom in motion, and no other feeling came close.

With no classes for the day, you finally had a chance to check out the skate park near campus. Your friends had mentioned it, but until now, you hadn’t had the time nor the energy. This felt like a well-earned reward for surviving the semester so far.

At a nearby bench, you kicked off your shoes and slid your feet into your rollerblades, snapping the buckles closed with practiced ease. Standing up, balance returning like second nature, you headed toward one of the ramps.

Or, well, you tried to.

“Move!”

The pavement came up fast and hard. Your hands burned from the impact, and your knees felt like they’d been grated raw.

Someone else hit the ground ahead of you with a heavier thud—his skateboard flying off like it had somewhere better to be. A few people nearby laughed under their breath, offering zero help and even less concern.

“Ah... fuck.” The guy groaned, sitting up slowly as he inspected the tear in his oversized jeans. He stood, brushing off dirt, but avoided your gaze, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish expression. “Sorry, dude,” he muttered, more apologetic about his own clumsiness than about sending you sprawling.

You recognized him—Su-bong. The guy who spent calculus class beatboxing under his breath and pretending to DJ on an imaginary turntable. You’d barely exchanged more than a nod with him before, but you knew the rumors. He skipped most of his classes, somehow scraped by on exams, and had yet to be expelled—something about his father being part of the school board or whatever. You never cared enough to eavesdrop on stuff about him.

In his free time—which was basically all the time—Su-bong could be found rapping in alleyway battles or losing himself in the skate park, chasing the same thrill you craved, perfecting tricks like it was the only thing that mattered.

And now, he’d managed to ruin the one rare moment you had to yourself.

Still, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, remembering the way he’d face-planted into the pavement right after you.

Su-bong hadn’t looked at you once since standing up. Instead, he turned and jogged after his runaway skateboard.

You stood up again and sat back down on the bench before examining your winds. “Shit..” You mumbled under your breath, hissing in pain. 

The scrape on your knee was stinging but you focused on the scrapes on your hands. You whispered some insults towards Su-bong as you got a piece of tissue from your bag and wiped your hand. You sat there for a while, thinking about how you’d walk back to your dorm without being in excruciating pain but your thoughts were interrupted by someone shouting.

“Hey!” You turned your head to the voice and saw Su-bong running towards you, “Shit, sorry.” He apologized, out of breath. “I got a first aid kit from the pharmacy nearby.” He sat down beside you, clearly unsure of how close was too close before pulling out some gauze. “Do you have scissors?” You shook your head and he looked back then ripped the gauze at an appropriate length but when he was about to wrap it around your hand, you pulled away. 

“You’re meant to clean, disinfect, and then wrap the gauze.” You corrected, unconsciously leaning closer to him. He slowly looked up at her as his ears grew red. “R-right. Sorry. I’ve never done this before.” He blushed slightly before fumbling with the first aid kit and getting the things needed. “This is going to sting a bit, okay?” He warns once he pulls out the small alcohol spray.

You winced as the alcohol hit your skin. “Shit—that stings.” Su-bong flinched along with you, like he felt it too. “Sorry, sorry! I swear I’m not trying to torture you.” You shot him a look. “Are you sure? You seem suspiciously good at this.” He let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, well, maybe I’m secretly a villain who ambushes people at skate parks just to… aggressively provide first aid.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your villain name? The Bandage Bandit?” you teased, biting back a smirk. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Please, don’t give me a lame name. At least let me be something cool, like… Doctor Disaster.” You raised an eyebrow. “Doctor Disaster? That sounds like someone who’d forget to clean a wound before wrapping it.” He made a mock-wounded noise. “Hey! Low blow.” “Fitting,” You said, nodding at your stinging hands.

Su-bong chuckled quietly as he wiped the area with more care this time, his touch lighter. “Alright, alright, lesson learned. I’ll take ‘Bandage Bandit’ over ‘Doctor Disaster’ if it gets me forgiveness.”

You pretended to think about it. “Hmm. Maybe. Depends on how well you handle the knee next.”

He immediately perked up, determined but still flushed. “Oh, you’re challenging me now? Okay. Just so you know, I’m about to give top-tier knee care. Like, you’ll be recommending me to all your friends.” You grinned. “Can’t wait to leave a five-star review.” 

Su-bong knelt in front of you, reaching for the alcohol spray again. “Okay, ready for round two?” You eyed him warily. “Depends—are you going to Doctor Disaster this one too?” He gave you a lopsided grin, a little breathless. “Nope. This time, you’re getting premium Bandage Bandit service.”

You laughed, but as he leaned closer to reach your knee, you suddenly became very aware of how close he actually was. His hair fell slightly into his eyes, and you noticed the faint dusting of freckles on his nose—things you wouldn’t have noticed from across a classroom or skate park.

He focused on your knee, completely oblivious to the shift in the air. “Okay, this’ll sting a little,” he said softly, like he was trying not to spook you.

When the alcohol hit your skin, you sucked in a breath through your teeth, and his hand instinctively landed on your shin to steady you. The touch was light, but it sent a surprising jolt through you both. His eyes flicked up, meeting yours, and for a second, neither of you spoke.

“Uh—” he cleared his throat, pulling his hand back like your skin had burned him. “Sorry! I just didn’t want you to, like… kick me in the face or something.” You smirked, trying to shake off the heat rising to your cheeks. “Wow, that’s how low you think of me?” He laughed, clearly flustered but trying to keep it cool as he returned to patching you up. “I didn’t say that! Don’t put words in my mouth.” This time, when his fingers grazed your leg to secure the gauze, you both noticed—but neither of you moved away.

“So,” he said after a beat, voice quieter now, “still sticking with that five-star review?” You leaned back on your elbows, teasing, “Hmm. I might have to bump you up to four and a half stars.” He gasped, hand dramatically to his chest. “Four and a half? Harsh. What’d I do?” You grinned. “Docking points for almost breaking my hands earlier.” “Fair.” He shook his head, chuckling as he tied off the bandage. “I’ll earn that half-star back somehow.”

The silence that followed afterwards was no longer awkward and felt different. His hands lingered for a second longer than they should’ve on your knee, and when he finally sat back on his heels, his gaze flickered to your face, as if noticing something new.

He was taken out of the trance he was in by a loud “Oh! I know!” He focused and tilted his head “What?” He asks as he starts putting the things they had used back in the first aid kit. “You can carry my stuff back to my dorm and help me get there.” You smile proudly.

Su-bong blinked, then let out a soft, incredulous laugh. “Wow. Extortion. Classic villain behavior.”

You grinned wider. “I learned from the best,” He stood up, brushing off his jeans, then offered you his hand. “Alright, deal. But only because you’re injured. And because I’m feeling generous today.”

You took his hand, feeling the calluses on his palm as he helped you up. For a second, you swayed, the soreness in your knee making you wince, and instinctively, his other hand settled on your waist to steady you. The two of you froze—again—both painfully aware of how close you’d gotten. “…You good?” he asked, voice suddenly softer, almost nervous. 

You nodded, though your heart felt like it had decided to skate a half-pipe inside your chest. “Yeah. Just… don’t let go.”

His lips twitched into a lopsided smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The words hung between you like static in the air, unspoken but heavy. Then, clearing his throat, he quickly stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck as if trying to shake off the tension.

“Okay, so—uh—your dorm?” he asked, voice cracking slightly. You bit back a laugh, enjoying his awkwardness a little too much. “Yeah. It’s not far. You can be my personal porter.” He mock-bowed. “Su-Bong at your service.”

As you handed him your backpack, your fingers brushed, and you swore you felt that jolt again. Maybe it was adrenaline. Maybe it was the pain meds kicking in. Or maybe it was just Su-bong being… well, unexpectedly kind of cute.

FINNICK FLUFF FINNICK FLUFF FINNICK FLUFF

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

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

weak hero class headcanons — showing intimacy with the boys of whc

synopsis — how the boys of whc show intimacy

pairing/s — sieun x reader, suho x reader, baku x reader, gotak x reader, juntae x reader, baekjin x reader, seongje x reader, beomseok x reader

a/n — another headcanon post !! thank u for requesting, anon !! working on a more angst-y headcanon post on how they handle breakups next <3

masterlist | join the taglist | request a fic

⤷ yeon sieun

sieun’s intimacy comes in the small moments—like when he opens a door for you, but always steps aside to let you go first, a quiet sign of respect. he’ll adjust your coat collar without a word, smoothing it down before moving on, as if making sure you’re comfortable. when you’re bent over, looking for something under a table, he’ll instinctively cover your head with his hand—just a small, protective gesture. it’s never grand, but it’s always thoughtful.

he’s the kind of person who notices when you're cold and is already taking off his jacket “it’s cold,” and draping it over you without a second thought, though he won’t make a big deal of it. when you’re sitting together, his arm will hover just a little too close to yours, as if he's quietly reassuring himself that you're there. he’ll never make a show of it, but you’ll always know he’s watching over you, in his quiet, reserved way. everything with sieun feels intentional, even the simplest things.

⤷ ahn suho

suho’s intimacy is about making you feel seen in the simplest ways. when you’re cooking or working on something, he’ll lean against the doorframe or sit beside you, offering small compliments about how you’re doing, and always with that mischievous grin. “you’re doing great,” he’ll say with a smirk, watching you from the corner of his eye. his hand often brushes yours when passing something or reaching for the same thing, a lingering touch that makes your heart race. when you’re resting, he’ll plop down next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder, sometimes pulling you in close just to kiss the top of your head. it’s spontaneous, but comforting, like he wants you to know he’s always close by.

⤷ park humin (baku)

baku’s intimacy is energetic, playful, and full of affection. if you’re sitting next to him, he might casually drape his arm across your shoulders, pulling you closer just because he wants to be near you. “you’re so slow,’’ he’ll tease as he kneels in front of you, tying your shoes, eyes dancing with amusement. “you can’t even tie your shoes without me, huh?’’ he’d joke, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose, a light laugh escaping him when you protest.

he’ll sneak in little kisses when you’re least expecting it—like when you’re reading or just chilling, he'll kiss your cheek and then immediately crack a joke to make you laugh. when you’re both walking, he’ll occasionally grab your hand, squeezing it firmly as if to remind you he’s there, even in the midst of everything else going on.

⤷ go hyuntak (gotak)

gotak’s casual intimacy is grounded in reliability and comfort. he’s the type to pull a blanket over your lap when you're sitting together, even if you never asked for one. “i got you,” he’ll say with a simple smile, adjusting the blanket around you. when you're working on something at the table, he might sneak up behind you, brushing your hair aside to make sure it’s not in your face, his hands moving with care. when you’re carrying something heavy, he’ll insist on taking it from you, his hands gentle but firm as he lifts it effortlessly.

while you’re sitting together, he’ll keep his hand on your knee or gently rub the back of your hand, a quiet sign of affection that doesn’t need to be said. when you’re sharing a meal, he’ll subtly pick at your plate, offering you bites of what he thinks you’ll like. it’s the quiet intimacy that comes with being so comfortable around each other—no need for words, just the simple act of being there. (PLEEAAASEEE someone request a fic for gotak i need him SO BADDD)

⤷ seo juntae

juntae’s intimacy is shy but heartfelt. when you’re walking together, he’ll subtly brush your hand, his fingers just grazing yours, as if he’s unsure but can’t help himself. “s-sorry,” he’ll stutter, his face turning pink, but his hand stays just close enough. if you’re sitting at a table or working on something, he’ll offer you a piece of candy or a drink, his eyes always flicking away as if embarrassed, but the sweetness of his actions speaks volumes. when you’re talking, he’s always leaning in just a little closer, showing you that he’s really paying attention, even if his face is flushed. when you’re resting, he might cover your shoulders with a blanket without you asking, his gaze lingering on you in a quiet, soft moment.

⤷ na baekjin

baekjin’s intimacy is intense, but it’s also about subtle control. when you’re walking or standing together, he’ll always position himself just a little closer than you expect, his arm around your waist or his fingers brushing against yours in a possessive but quiet way. “stay close,” he’ll say lowly, his voice firm but not harsh. his hand will often find the small of your back as he guides you, leading you with a certain quiet confidence—like he’s claiming the space around you while keeping you close without needing to say anything.

when you’re studying or working, he won’t interrupt, but occasionally, you’ll feel his presence in the smallest gestures—his hand quietly finding its way to the top of your head, fingers brushing your hair as if to say he’s there. sometimes, he’ll have one of his goons order your favorite drink, all without saying much, just showing that he’s thinking about you. his love is in the details, in the way he silently supports you through the little things, making sure you always feel cared for, even when he's not directly in the spotlight.

⤷ geum seongje

seongje’s intimacy is impulsive and possessive, driven by his need to dominate, but there’s an underlying current of obsession when it comes to you. with him, affection is not something soft or gentle—it’s sharp and possessive, in a way that makes it clear you belong to him, and he enjoys reminding you of that. “you’re mine,” he’ll say sharply, his grip tightening when he pulls you in. he’s the kind of person to hold your wrist tightly when he wants to get your attention, or pull you by the arm just a little too firmly when he’s ready to take you somewhere.

when you’re alone, his hand finds his way to the back of your neck, keeping you close, or he’ll press his forehead to yours in a rare moment of calm. he likes keeping you near, close enough to feel the heat of his body and remind everyone around that you’re his. “everyone should know,” he’ll growl quietly, as if making sure you both understand.

⤷ oh beomseok

beomseok’s intimacy is thoughtful, like everything he does is carefully planned but done with so much heart. when you’re busy with something, he’ll quietly move to help you, adjusting things around you, almost like he’s aware of every little thing you might need. he might hand you a pen without asking, or pass you your cup of coffee with a small smile, his voice soft when he says, “here, thought you might need this.”

he moves with purpose, as if savoring the moment. his touches are always deliberate but tender, like he’s afraid of being too forward, but he wants to be close to you, seeking your warmth. when you’re caught up in something, he might gently rest his head on your shoulder, leaning in just close enough to say, “don’t stress too much. you’re doing great,” his tone calm and reassuring. everything he does feels like it’s meant to take care of you in a way that makes you feel seen.

notes: ugh im so sorry i feel like i kinda lacked with beomseok or didn’t quite catch his vibe(?) it’s just been a while since we’ve last seen him yk? ㅠㅠ hopefully this turned out alright ~

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