Tysm To The Anons That Lmk That People In My Inbox Asking For Helping Might Be Pretending

hi ursula! would you be up to writing jack x reader where she wears his shirt for the first time ever and he’s just mesmerised by her, and kisses her face all over? i think that’d be cute!

sweet nothing — jack champion

word count: 661

pairing: jack champion x fem!reader

summary: jack goes home to his girlfriend and her sweet nothings.

JACK LEFT THE SET WITH THE FEELING OF EXCITEMENT INVADING HIS CHEST. It was an unusual thing to feel after long hours of shooting, but that day was different because Y/N was waiting for him at his house. They were both free the following day so Jack told her to sleep over and spend the next day together.

As he drove towards his home, he could picture her perfectly in his head. She was probably making his favourite food—because she loved to spoil him after tiring days of work—while humming some Taylor Swift song and dancing around the kitchen like a little kid.

And once he parked in the driveway, he sprinted towards the entrance door with a big smile, eager to see his girl. He was instantly hit with the smell of pizza and the sound of her sweet voice. When he reached the kitchen he leaned against the doorframe, and took his time to admire the sight in front of him.

Y/N was standing behind the counter, eyes furrowed in concentration as she carefully put cheese on the pizza—her perfectionist ass wanted the squares of cheese to be even and perfectly cut even though they were going to melt—, her hair was in a messy ponytail and strands fell in front of her eyes which made her sigh in frustration—something that made Jack smiled like a love-sick fool because he couldn’t believe the adorable girl standing in his kitchen was his.

And finally, the last thing that capture his attention was what she was wearing. The short sleeves of the plaid green shirt reached her elbows, and when he got to see her full body he noticed it ended by her upper thighs. She had never looked more beautiful.

Jack wanted this to be his everyday sight. He wanted to found himself running home to her warm smile, to her little rumblings about her day at uni, to her easing laugh and creases in her eyes, to her cozy arms and awful singing voice: to her sweet nothings.

“Hey” she spoke once she noticed his tall frame leaning on the door. His eyes were on her, but he appeared to be in another planet. “Babe?”

Jack blinked as he got out of his trance. “What?”

“Nothing, I just said hey” she laughed. “What happened?”

“You. In my shirt” he answered, eyes filled with adoration.

“Yeah, sorry. I spilled tomatoe soup on mine so I stole this one”

He took a step closer and cupped her jaw “It looks so much better in you. Hell, you know what? All my clothes are yours now, you should wear mine everyday from now on”

“But I like my clothes” Y/N laughed.

“I’ll burn them so you’ll have no choice” he joked. “For real, you look so beautiful. I never want to take my eyes off you” he started kissing every inch of the skin on her face, making her giggle.

“I missed you a lot” she said wrapping her arms around his neck as their foreheads touched. “How was work?”

Jack pressed a kiss on her nose “It was okay. Been looking forward to this all day, though. It was hard to concentrate” he admitted, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of their hug. “Missed you too. It was excruciating.”

“I made pizza, is that okay?” she asked. Jack looked down and smiled when he saw the pizza had the shape of a heart. “Saw it on Pinterest, and I just had to do it”

“You’re so cute. I love you.” he pressed his nose against hers, his heart pumping in his chest. He never thought how good being in love with someone felt like.

“I love you too, J.” she smiled lovingly.

And to have that someone love you back? It was priceless. He would take every exhausting day at work, every industry disruptor that made a bad review on his performance or movies, every soul deconstructor that threw hate comments at him, as long as at the end of the day he would have Y/N’s love and support.

I genuinely love your writing! After you posted the weak class hero 2 fic I need more. When you’re not too busy ( and please take your time, take care of yourself ) can I request what the guys small romantic gestures would be? I just need anything fluffy for the guys, especially Baekjin. You write for him so well and he needs more representation. Thank you bunches! Have a good day!

Masterlists: Weak Hero | Dramas | Kpop

Weak Hero Class 2 Boyfriends x gn! Reader, Headcanons [2.38k]

I will never cease to be amazed by the kindness of strangers. <3 Thank you so much, Anon. I hope this answer to your request meets your expectations. And as a fellow Baekjin lover, I made his part just a little longer. Enjoy!

Warnings - None.

Si-Eun

Lends you his hoodies, often making sure that he has gently worn it first so it smells like him. He also leaves notes in the pockets sometimes so you can find them later. Usually they just say something like “There’s no rush to give it back.” Or, he simply draws a little heart on a small folded up piece of paper.

Whether you’re standing or sitting together, he does it close enough to you so at least some part of you is touching. Sieun isn’t always affectionate, but he does like to have that little bit of contact with you in most settings.

If he wants to see you, he calls and just says “I miss you.” Good luck getting anything more than that out of him though lol.

He enjoys music and makes playlists for you based on either songs that he thinks you’ll like, or songs that make him think of you.

Especially if you’re tired or upset, he lets you rest your head on his shoulder. He is careful to be still and not make any movements (or say anything) that might deter you from leaning on him. He shows his support in quiet ways.

Sien has a habit of telling you “It’s okay” a lot because he never wants you to feel like you’re being too much for him or that mistakes you make hold any real weight. 

He gives you somewhat of a ‘heads up’ when his dad isn’t going to be home for longer periods of time so you feel more encouraged/comfortable visiting him. He definitely drops subtle hints that he wants you to come around.

It doesn’t matter if you’re paying attention or not. Sieun is always staring at/watching you and doesn’t get intimidated if you catch him in the act. 

This boy literally has a designated, tiny little notebook that he keeps on him at all times so he can record and take notes about things that you say. You might talk about things that you like or need, even places you want to visit. He writes it all down (but this he does in secret).

He is not above doing your homework for you if you’re exhausted or not feeling well.

♡

Baku

He is always taking pictures of you with his phone. Half the time, you don’t even know he’s doing it. His camera roll is just full of pics- ranging from you posing on dates, to candid off-guard shots where you’re partially blurry. Lol he doesn’t care, he keeps them all. And late at night when he can’t sleep, he just scrolls through them with a big cheesy grin.

Constantly showers you with compliments and tells you every day how perfect he thinks you are. It’s always something like “My baby looks so pretty today.”

Sometimes, he really plays up the drama and will pretend that he’s burning up as you walk into the room. He pulls at his collar and swipes his brow, faking being out of breath as he says “You’re just too hot. I can’t stand it.”

Baku frequently tells you that he’s proud of you and praises you for any little accomplishment.

Introduces you to his friends and people on his team because he is so proud that you’re his and he wants everyone to know.

Any time he wins some sort of award for sports, he runs straight to you to show you and let you hold onto it for him. He likes sharing his passions with you and wants you to have pride in him as well.

Because he is strong, he can literally sweep you off your feet and likes doing it to surprise you/make you laugh. 

He got you flowers once for your birthday and adored your reaction to them so much that he now just buys them for you randomly. In his mind, there doesn’t have to be an occasion to celebrate you.

Cooks chicken just for you at his dad’s restaurant. He even lets you watch him do it and jokes that “There’s nothing I’m not good at.”

Sings to you to cheer you up, often in a goofy way. But he’s actually a good singer and sometimes uses it to his advantage so he can soothe you or lull you to sleep.

♡

Hyun-Tak

He is attentive to how you’re feeling. If he senses you’re cold, he gives you his jacket. If you’re hot, he’s running to a convenience store to buy you a cold drink or is looking for something to use so you can tie your hair up. He just knows and does whatever he can to remedy situations.

Tells you he loves you at the most random times ever. You could be brushing your teeth and he just looks at you in awe and says it out of nowhere.

If you tell him you can’t hang out because you have chores or important things to do, he offers to do them with/for you. He just wants to be with you, no matter what you’re doing.

Hyuntak never shows up to meet you empty handed. He always has one of your favorite snacks on him. 

Every single day, he sends you a good morning/goodnight text. He wants to be the first and last person that you talk to and tries to check on you throughout the day too. On days that he doesn’t get to see you, he insists that you Facetime.

He’s really good at planning dates, even down to the details like weather, times, and what he thinks you should wear (likes to try to coordinate couple outfits too). He reminds you to wear sunscreen, bring a jacket, or not fill up on snacks so you can enjoy the meal he has planned.

If you’re parting ways for the day and kiss each other goodbye, he always asks for “just one more”... and another, and another until you’re giggling and swatting him away.

Hyuntak comes up with silly nicknames for you based on what you look like, how you act, etc. For example, if you have a ‘bunny’ face (see korean animal face types), he calls you something like “my little fuzzy bunny”, “baby bunny”, “bun bun”. Depending on what it is, he might only call you it in private lol.

Gives you piggy back rides whenever you want.

Makes it a point to learn about your friends and family to not just get to know you, but know them too. He wants to be involved in all aspects of your life.

♡

Jun-Tae

He refuses to let you tie your own shoelaces lol. Even if you’re already halfway crouched, he’s pulling you back up and getting on a knee before you can protest.

Goes out of his way to smooth down your hair or pick lint off of your clothes. He notices all of the small details.

You already know, Juntae is all about buying vitamins and things of that nature for you. He knows so much about ways to maintain health and just wants to take care of you! Of course, this also means that he is the best caretaker when you are sick or injured.

Consent KING!! He always asks before making any sort of move on you. “Can I kiss you? Can we hold hands? Do you want a hug?” His ultimate goal is for you to be comfortable around him.

Loves to hold your hand and kiss the back of it while your fingers are still interlocked.

Lets you borrow absolutely anything of his; whether it be a manga, a shirt, money, gum, etc. Half the time, he probably tells you to just keep it cause he thinks that his job is to help provide anything and everything you need as long as he is able.

Shares his favorite book/movie/show characters with you and gives you recommendations for media that he thinks you would enjoy. To him, it’s important that both of you talk about and exchange things that you’re passionate about.

This would definitely happen in more of a private place; he might be too shy to do it in front of anyone else. But Juntae gives the best head scratches and back scratches. Something about his light, gentle touch brings you so much comfort. And he can do it for hours, not stopping even if you totally fall asleep. 

Lets you pick off of his plate or he takes some of his food and puts it onto yours, especially if he wants you to have more of a certain food that you like to eat. 

Is the type to use his hand to prevent you from bumping your head on hard surfaces. Also is a chivalrous king and opens/holds doors for you.

♡

Seong-Je

Sometimes, if he’s in a particularly good mood, he lets you win the online game you’re playing with him.

Lowkey fucks with you, teasing you by tapping one shoulder to make you look behind it- only for you to see that he’s not there and he is instead smirking behind the other shoulder.

He doesn’t give them often, and definitely not in front of anyone else. But Seongje does give you forehead kisses. Typically they’re pretty quick, almost as if he’s embarrassed. But sometimes he just can’t help himself.

He makes you install an app on your phone so he can always see what your location is. He doesn’t like feeling like he’s tethered on a leash, so he probably wouldn’t allow you to ask the same of him. Although, he does regularly give you the courtesy of verbally letting you know where he is going to be because he wants you to be able to find him if you need him. 

He sometimes puts his glasses on you just to tease you about how funny and cute you look in them. He mayyy or may not also take a picture of you like that and use it for your contact photo in his phone (don’t tell him I told you that).

Shockingly, he is pretty good at remembering things you tell him. It’s not all the time that he’s actually doing anything with the information he retains, but he does surprise you by recalling details you hadn’t expected him to care about.

If you feel unsafe for any reason and want him to stay with you, he will. He’ll stay the whole night if that’s what you want. He has a certain pride in being someone that you look to for protection.

He looks out for you by telling you things like “Don’t stay up too late”, “Don’t skip dinner”, or “Go straight home.” 

He absolutely will complain about you asking him to carry your backpack, phone, etc. But in the same breath he’s also saying, “Just give it to me.”

Is open about how much money he makes from all of his ‘jobs’ and tells you to let him know if there’s anything that you want him to buy for you. He doesn’t mind getting stuff for you here and there.

♡

Baek-Jin

He’s a busy guy, to say the least. So as much as he tries to nourish your relationship with real dates, sometimes he has to spend time with you during the more mundane parts of his life. That means he invites you to study, or even just spend the night with him so he can have eight uninterrupted hours with you somehow.

Tells you things when you’re asleep that he feels unable to say when you’re awake. It’s just easier for him to express himself in a way that isn’t as vulnerable. “You have no idea what you mean to me” or “I hope that on the other side of this, you will still be with me.”

It’s a very cute gesture that he would only ever do for you, but he makes pinky promises. And one thing is for sure: he never breaks a pinky promise he has with you. Usually, he promises something simple like going on at least one date a week. But sometimes, it’s more serious and he swears that he won’t get hurt or something of that nature.

Baekjin is also always 100% honest with you. He sees no reason not to be fully transparent unless it is to protect you from something that you don’t need to know about. But he is loyal, faithful, and focused on doing what he is able to do in order to keep you happy.

He does his best to give you his undivided attention, but sometimes you do have to ask for it. Since he has so much going on, it might take a simple “Baekjin, I need you right now” before he is pushing everything aside and prioritizing your wellbeing.

When he can’t keep an eye on you himself, he has some of his men do it and report back to him. But they are under strict orders not to disturb you or let you know that you’re being watched.

He personally escorts you home as often as he can. Additionally, he is very protective and walks on the sidewalk closest to the street, always with a hand on the small of your back.

He gives hugs where one arm is wrapped around your waist and his other hand reaches up to cradle the back of your head. Depending on the day, his hugs are longer lasting. As for kisses, he lightly grabs your chin and looks into your eyes for a moment before connecting his lips with yours.

More common than his hugs and kisses, he likes to pet your head or run his hand down your back, your arm, etc. It’s a simpler form of affection that is easier for him to give, but it still says a lot.

He tells you often that he wishes for you to live as normal of a life as possible. You may have chosen him as your partner, which comes with its own unique set of challenges purely because of the business he's involved with. But he stresses that you should still have your own aspirations and healthy things that you want to do with your life.

𝑭𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝑭𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕‧₊˚✧ . ˚

𝐒𝐮-𝐇𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝟏.𝟗𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 | 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮-𝐇𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞-𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐀𝐔 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬—𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚. 𝐌𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝟓 + 𝟏 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐏𝐎𝐕 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜 ♡

When Dae-Su invites the whole gang to visit his uncle’s gym for “fun,” it never crossed anyone’s mind that they would be learning fighting skills. Perhaps Nam-Ra was smart to decline even before hearing the entirety of the planned itinerary, opting to study instead. To put it courteously, Dae-Su’s uncle was as eccentric as he was, maybe even more so.

Though you have to admit you could get behind his reasoning for pairing everyone up the way he did, regardless of whether it was truly effective in terms of honing techniques or just based on skill level, there’s no doubt it’s now your new form of entertainment:

1) On-Jo was kicking Cheong-San back and forth on their mat, expressionless. Poor guy looked like he was in a pinball machine, but he truly didn’t seem to mind even though you knew he was agile enough to avoid it. You can’t lie; they’re absolutely adorable even when they fight. Seeing I-Sak coming over occasionally to tease them only confirmed that you weren’t the only one who thought so. Huh, who would’ve thought self-defense training between two people could be this cute.

2) Animatedly, Gyeong-Su gestures “ladies first” to I-Sak, but she mimics his motions, repeating for him to “man up.” From your point of view, it looked almost comical, like one of those silent movies you could never understand. Neither of the two seemed to take it seriously; they were simply just having fun yielding to one another, taking nothing to heart.

3) Ji-Min and Hyo-Ryung were in some kind of mutual stand-off, neither one of them daring to move, their stance reminding you of two cats with a ball of yarn in the middle. They were too far away for you to listen in, but from the former’s expression, you could tell she was complaining endlessly. Is it worth it to bet on who would make the first attack rather than who would win between them?

4) In a corner, Wu-Jin and Joon-Yeong were ganging up on Dae-Su, except the biggest hurdle was that they clearly needed an actual gang to make Dae-Su budge. Apparently, his position as the so-called mediator—since it was deemed no one could win in a fight against Dae-Su if he simply laid down—didn’t matter to the other two; it was purely an opportunity for them to use him as a stress ball. You laugh at the idea that as a referee, one is supposed to keep a close eye on matches to ensure all rules are adhered to, but here, Wu-Jin and Joon-Yeong definitely found a loophole: if you take out the official, anything goes.

5) Now, that left you and Su-Hyeok, mainly because according to Dae-Su, he wanted to see you guys fight to the death, leaving you wondering if he meant that in the literal sense. “Bare-Su doesn’t know what giving up is, and Y/N would never accept defeat,” was his reasoning, pestering his uncle to pit the boys and girls against one another. Originally you and On-Jo were supposed to practice together, but for some reason, it just ended up like this. You were going to question Dae-Su as to why only the four of you were in a mixed pair, but decided against it. Knowing him, it’s probably better if you didn’t ask.

As you’re watching the hilarious matches—if they could even be called that—Su-Hyeok’s voice draws you back to your own mat and sparring partner for the day.

“Out of all supernatural beings, what are you most afraid of?” “Zombies,” you say without hesitation. “Alright, then go ahead and imagine me as a zombie in a sudden apocalypse.” “Please, when would zombies show up? At a high school of all places—I don’t think so,” you reason, giving him a pointed look.  “Just for mock situational purposes, I’ll be a zombie; a handsome one.” 

“You?” “Yeah, you can’t picture me as a zombie?” “No, I can, but not as a handsome one,” you tease, even though it was far opposite from the truth.  Rolling his eyes, he gives up. “Fine. Let’s just say I’m a regular zombie.” Su-Hyeok begins to move behind you as he says, “In the instance that I—a zombie—were to come around and do this…” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, placing your neck in the crook of his elbow in a squeezing motion that would choke you in a real-life situation with more aggression involved.  Surprising him, you quickly remove his arm, spin around, and pin it behind his back in a matter of seconds. Technically, he never asked if you had any prior experience, which you did; a black belt to be exact, but he doesn’t have to know that.

“How are you this strong?” Su-Hyeok asks, genuinely shocked. Though he groans at the pressure you applied, he reverses the disadvantageous position by drawing your arm out and back up over you, untangling himself first before flinging you down on the mat. Despite that, he still throws an arm out for you, cradling your neck to lessen the impact you would’ve received otherwise. You would never tell Su-Hyeok, but his absolute care for you—leagues even above others—was your heart’s kryptonite.

“You don’t think I can handle a fair fight, huh?” Without faltering, you wrap your legs around his waist and flip yourself back on top, not quite registering that you were presently straddling him. Too competitive to pay it any mind, you miss the slight smile Su-Hyeok tries to suppress—that always meant trouble. Decisively, you shift into putting him into an arm bar, one leg across his throat while you twist his arm tightly, disabling him from moving. “I never said that you couldn’t!” He taps the floor, seemingly signaling that he wanted out. “I give up!” He exhales tiredly.

“Oh sorry!” You apologize hurriedly, truly worried. Knowing that you had an unfair advantage to begin with, you loosen your grip altogether, already beginning to check if you went too far in the spirit of competition when Su Hyeok unceremoniously flips you back around, pinning you down. Y/H/C splays out beneath you, a stark contrast against the blue mat as his hands hold your wrists above your head, pressing it firmly to the floor while his knees lock outside of yours, restricting all movement. “Oof,” you gasp, not expecting the force or the motion’s speed, struggling against the added weight on you.

You look up, seeing Su-Hyeok chuckling openly at you having fell for his trick. His face ends up unbelievably close to yours, so close that you can see drops of sweat dotting his hairline. Every time he exhales, you can feel his breath ghost over your face, and you wonder if he could hear how fast your heart was beating or whether he could feel it from the radial pulse in your wrists through his hands due to the compromising position he currently had you locked in. His eyes sweep from your face down to your lips for a split second before looking back up, though it goes unnoticed by you.

Your feelings aside, you were never one to lose—Dae-Su was spot-on about that—and you definitely could get yourself out of the position if you just knee him where it’s known to hurt the most. Even those without training would know that oldest trick in the book, but instead, you figure that messing with him is a thousand times more satisfying.  “Do you know your place now?” He taunts, repositioning his hands in a more comfortable position so that it wouldn’t put too much force on your wrists; far too considerate for the situation at hand. “You mean underneath you?” You gaze up at him, defiantly, challenging him to make another move. Clearly flustered at your suggestive tone, his smile falters, causing you to burst into laughter. Dae-Su’s uncle walks around the dojo, gauging the progress of every duo when you see him stopping by your area, scratching his head in confusion. “Oh, geez this is…different. What do we have here?” His eyes widen as he mutters to himself, before he goes back to his usual neutral expression you’ve seen all day. “So…uh, who won?” He raises his eyebrows at you and Su-Hyeok. “I’ve never had to determine who is the victor in this—" he gestures at the air, “—kind of a match before.”  You scoot your head a little bit to the side so you could make eye contact with Dae-Su’s uncle out of respect. How ironic, considering what he was seeing in front of him. Clearly, Su-Hyeok was still too stunned to think properly, but hasn’t let you go. “Me!” You reply without shame, even adding in a smile for good measure.  Skeptical, Dae-Su’s uncle nods anyway. “Well…good going? Keep it up?” he compliments, or rather, questions awkwardly, before going on his way to the other end of the room. You have half a mind to wonder what kind of first impressions you and your friends were making, thinking about what Dae Su’s uncle would encounter on the other mats to follow. When you turn your head back, Su-Hyeok is still looking at you. He shakes his head in amusement as you nudge his knee with yours. “Where’s the sportsmanship? You just declared victory with a lie. All my hard work went down the drain.” “Well, should have spoken up earlier then, you fool.” He scoffs at you, before narrowing his eyes. “Hey! Don’t try to distract me! Is your solution in an unexpected situation to seduce your way out of it?” You blush but hold it together. “Depends, did it work?” Su-Hyeok splutters. “I told you to imagine me as a zombie. How would the undead fall victim to human charm?”  “So, you’re saying my charming nature is distracting.”  “Now you’re just twisting my words.” “You didn’t answer my question,” you press. “Was my method successful or not?” “Again, Y/N, let me remind you that I’m a zombie—" “I’m not asking Zombie Su-Hyeok, I’m asking Human Su-Hyeok what he thinks.”  There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes, which should have been warning enough for you. He moves to lace his fingers with yours, and leans in even further, his face barely an inch away. He smirks. “Maybe if you do it more often.”  Not knowing what to say and abruptly much too shy to retaliate, you quickly throw him off of you and move back into a sitting position, your cheeks red. Su-Hyeok falls to the mat on his back, laughing so hard he’s shaking. You kick him with your foot in childish revenge to no avail, glaring all the while. He finally sits up, leaning back onto his arms to continue staring at you, smiling cheekily at the expression on your face. “After that, I think I clearly won.”  Dae-Su comes by and squats between the two of you, looking back and forth pensively. “As the designated referee and the one who suggested this activity in the first place, I’m saying this for the benefit of the whole and all the single people in this room: Next time, a little less flirting and a lot more fighting, please.”

┈┈┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈┈┈

© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐞𝐭𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐱’𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐔𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨, 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎page ──── three

약한영웅 characters when you cry while patching them up ˳ ۫ 𓈅

includes class 2 + suho 𔓕 gn!reader 𔓕 w.c 3.4k+

genres — established relationship, fluff, hurt / comfort

click to continue reading! 𔓕 based on this request

warnings. mentions of blood, injuries, bruises, dacryphilia (?), canon-typical violence.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ yeon sieun

Baku had called you, his voice was weighed with worry as he told you Sieun was hurt badly and unconscious. Your heart had sunk right there, the world had become blurry. Everything that came out of Baku’s mouth through the phone sounded so far away, as if someone had put your head underwater. you had felt like your legs would give up any second.

You had rushed with some first aid to Eunjang right away, fighting the fidgety feeling and anxiety you felt the entire bus ride. When you reached the secret hangout room you found three of the four boys hurt, one of them— your Sieun, lying down, and unconscious.

You had questioned and scolded them but they knew your anger came from a place of concern. Juntae had said that he and Gotak were fine, he had half-lied. All three of them had come to some unspoken agreement to leave you with Sieun alone to patch him up.

Your chest tightens as you settle near Sieun, slowly moving his hair out of his forehead to look at his wounds. Red bruises abloom on both his cheeks and forehead, gashes on both his cheek bones and a busted lip— just what was he upto?

You start by cleaning his chin and hands with wet wipes. You then disinfect his face and forehead, your breathing becomes heavier. You don't know how to clean his lips properly, after all you're not a medical professional, so you just opt to clean the area around his mouth properly. Your eyes start to burn a little, your heart is getting heavier each passing second.

Sieun’s eyes flicker open, his gaze is far away but he soon notices your presence, you are trying to rip a bandaid out of its packaging. He calls out your name, his voice is shaky and hoarse.

You turn towards him, a wave of relief washing over you as you notice him awake. He tries to get up but you push him down to rest, your attempts are futile as he sits straight anyway. He looks dazed.

“Sieun-ah,” You say, you don't add anything else, unable to think of a proper statement. Your eyes start to burn again, you try to blink it away but instead tears start to trail down your cheek. Sieun mirrors your expression. His eyes redden as tears collect.

“I’m sorry.” He utters, raw and pained. Your chest tightens and a lump forms in your throat.

“It’s okay, I am here now.” You breathe out, your voice is weak despite nothing being okay, you try to be strong.

“No, no, I am sorry.” His words are a little slurred and drawled as repeats. You take his hand in your own, holding it gently, you start to run your fingers over his hand in soothing motions. Your touch is feather light, as if you're afraid that you'll break Sieun. He stops you and grips your fingers lightly with his own, signaling for you to respond. Your vision is getting a little blurred but you hold it in for Sieun’s sake.

“Okay.” You say, your voice is weak. “I accept your apology. Now, let me put this bandaid on you.”

Sieun switches from holding your hand to gripping your sleeve between his fingers. You peel off the wrapper and put the bandaid on his cheekbone gently. Sieun’s eyes start to water. You wipe them with the back of your fingers before they can fall past his under eyes.

“They… your tears… they will burn your wounds. So, stop, okay? There's no need to cry, okay? I am here now.” You speak softly.

You usher him to lay down, his hand holding onto yours firmly. He does not want to let you go. You bring his hand towards your face and press a faint kiss on the back of his hand. His grip loosens slightly as he passes out again.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ahn suho

To say you were pissed would be an understatement. You were beyond angry at this point. As you put a dressing on his forearm, Suho finally breaks the silence.

“Wanna go to noraebang?” Typical Suho. Typical Suho behaviour. Always trying to change the topic.

“No.” You say.

“C’mon, I’ll take you to eat ice-cream after.” He tries to persuade you, taking your hands in his own, entwining softly. Subtly indicating that he doesn't want to talk about this, trying to put on an act to pretend that this never happened.

“No.” You repeat standing your ground.

He pouts as you retreat your hands and continue to apply ointment on his scratches.

“No use in pouting. I thought you were over this shit, beating up people and getting hurt.”

He doesn't respond so you refuse to meet his eyes. You start to apply some gel on the scratches of his face and he starts to pucker his lips, asking for a kiss. You put your palm on his lips.

“Stop it.” He licks your palm instead—? You withdraw your hand and smack him.

Wiping your hand with his uniform, you go back to applying the gel. Suho realises you're both awfully close, your face near his own. He looks at you, your face, how you have a little pout and how your eyebrows are furrowed as you delicately apply the ointment on him.

He notices how your lips tremble a little and your eyes are blinking a lot. Are you holding in your tears?

“Hey.” He holds your wrist. “I’m–”

“What?” You finally break– tears brim and fall out of your eyes. This time, you pretend. You pretend that you are not crying. You try to go back to patching him but his hold on your wrists is too strong.

“Hey, hey.” He utters softly, his voice sounds apologetic.“I’m… sorry. I know I told you I won't do this anymore but… it just happened.”

You bite the insides of your cheeks avoiding his gaze and silently sniffle and Suho’s heart breaks.

“Oh my.” He mutters under his breath, his hands quickly reach your face, palms holding your face like you were some fragile porcelain. His thumbs wipe your tears tenderly.

“I’m sorry, Y/n-ssi.” And with that, he kisses your nose. “It won't… I'll try to make sure it does not happen again.” He kisses your forehead next. “So, now please,” He kisses your philtrum, “Please, stop crying. It breaks my heart to see you like this.”

He continues to kiss your face until you break into giggles.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ seo juntae

Juntae looks at you like a puppy kicked by a human, eyes downcast and filled with tears, feeling as though it was something that was his mistake. His eyes don't leave your hands.

You are fuming. Brows furrowed together, you are taking long breaths to calm yourself down. You angrily rip off a medicine’s covering and Juntae gulps.

You turn your face towards him and he looks at you and then, quickly looks away. He feels guilty.

You both are on a bench in a park near the pharmacy you just visited. Juntae got beat up by some bullies and you had dragged him to the pharmacy despite him saying it was okay.

Juntae wonders if you're mad at him. You're not. You know that.

You take off his glasses, gently putting them away. You start to dab away the dirt and blood from his face, your touches are feather light. He winces. He thinks it ticked you off because you stop and discard the cotton ball.

“I know… that it hurts you every time I get…hurt. I'm sorry.” He says, you look away. He's afraid he might lose you if this continues, he doesn't want that to happen ever. He holds your hands, clasping your fingers with his own.

“Please don't be mad at me.” It breaks something inside of you.

Your anger melts and turns into something else. It turns into the tears in your eyes, you hold them in. Your nose feels tingly and your mouth feels strangely wet. Your lips are pursed, you are taking in his words, letting them settle in your mind. They feel heavy. You take a deep breath as the tears threaten to fall. You face him again.

This time the look in your face is not of annoyance but of hurt, your brows are no longer furrowed together, your eyelashes are wet with tears that might fall any second. Juntae feels guilty.

“I am not mad at you.” You say and then it happens. The tears start to cascade down slowly. Juntae’s lips quiver. You take your hands back and wipe your tears.

“I don't know why you think I'm mad at you. I'm just… frustrated about this situation. I worry for you, Juntae-ya. Every few days you show up with these new wounds and bruises, I feel sad. I don't know what you're up to, but…” You stop as you don't know what to say.

Juntae feels as if his insides got ripped out and seared, his eyes start to water instantly at this sight. Just how could he be the reason of your tears?

His hand reaches out hesitant towards you, shaking a little and it finally finds your back. He starts to rub you with one hand and takes out a napkin with another. He uses it to wipe your tears.

“I…am sorry. Please don't cry.”

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ go ‘gotak’ hyuntak

“Does it cost money to be careful?” You mumble under your breath but they're still loud enough to be heard by Hyuntak. You did it intentionally.

“What? Aren't I supposed to be the one nagging you?” He sounds offended. “And if it really did cost money, you’d be evading–” You respond with a smack on the top of his head before he can even finish.

“Beggars can't be choosers.” You confuse him.

“That's literally not how the saying works. Ah–” You're now pulling his right ear.

“Can you stop abusing me?” He grumbles.

“Can you stop abusing me?” You mock him snottily.

Gotak realises there's no point in arguing with you further so he doesn't say anything. Instead, he looks away as you work on patching him up. You put gauze around his arm and some bandaids over his knuckles. You soon start to clean his face and that's when he finally turns towards you.

A q-tip is between your thumb and index finger layered with some gel, you're gently applying it to the corner of Gotak’s lips. He suddenly becomes hyper-aware about everything and his skin prickles with goosebumps.

Gotak realises that your sole focus is on his lips and blood rushes to his face, his ears reddening with every passing second. This close proximity isn't something that's rare but it's something that's not frequent either. Your dynamic has always been like this—too shy to be close and too committed to be farther than an arm’s distance.

Gotak takes in your features. Your eyes are glassy but focused on his lips and your nose seems a little red. Your bottom lip is between your teeth to stop it from trembling. You look like you're on the verge of crying. Shit.

“So, um…” Gotak starts, his intention is to distract you so you don't end up actually crying.

You hum in response. You finish up taking care of his lip and put away the q-tip in a plastic bag. Gotak looks at you, unable to muster up his words. He should’ve thought before starting to speak!

“So, yeah.”

You look at him incredulously, eyebrows raised but eyes still glassy, tears still sticking to your lashes.

“What?” You say.

You hear Gotak mumble a small Fuck this before he pulls you into his arms. One of his hands snakes through your back to your head, holding it gently. Gotak starts to pat you slowly. He then kisses the crown of your head.

“I’ll be careful next time.”

“Yeah. You better be.”

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ park 'baku' humin

Baku had showed up to your home bloodied and bruised with his stupid injuries and wounds. You had led him to your living room, your parents weren't home fortunately. You wouldn't have to explain why there was a badly beat up boy in your living space.

This brings you to your current predicament— crouched in front of Baku as he sat on the sofa, cleaning the dried blood clinging to his knuckles. You work in silence and Baku lets you. He doesn't speak and neither do you. You don't ask or question. He doesn't tell you what happened.

But the silence is oh so suffocating. There is a lump in your throat that won't go down now matter how much you swallow and tears are pricking the inner corners of your eyes. After you're done cleaning his hands you settle yourself on the sofa and start to clean his face.

Baku is strong, that is a fact. He never loses, that is another fact. But he is not invincible or immune to getting hurt. He bleeds and bruises just like everyone else. He feels pain too. That is evident in how he winces when you apply cream on his knuckles before you put on a bandaid. That is also evident in the way he hisses in pain when you dab the cut on his face with a cotton ball covered in disinfectant.

It is also evident in the way his heart aches when he notices your hands trembling and your eyes watering. You sniffle involuntarily. Baku wants to scratch his face. His eyes become glassy.

He calls out your name delicately as if it was a glass sculpture that could break if his voice was any louder.

And your tears spill. You bite your bottom lip to try and hold it in but there's no use.

Humin takes the cotton ball from your hand and places it on the center table. His hands wrap around your torso and he pulls you into his embrace. No words are exchanged. Sometimes, words aren't needed to communicate. Actions are enough.

With your head on his chest and his arms around you firmly, he pulls you under his chin. He lets you cry it out. You must be scared after seeing him hurt so badly.

He starts to run soothing circles on your back with his hand until you calm down.

“I’m sorry.” He says finally breaking the silence. “I won't get hurt this badly next time.”

“So you plan on getting hurt again?”

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ geum seongje

You are everything Geum Seongje is not– quiet, kind and gentle. Maybe that's why you're both together. Opposites attract or something.

But Outside Geum Seongje is different from Inside Geum Seongje. Inside Geum Seongje is reserved just for you. His words don't bite and he kisses with his lips instead of his fists. His eyes don't carry that crazed look, but a look of comfort and relaxation. He's not the adrenaline crazy wolf but a person who seeks softness and love.

One might think Seongje is the antonym of words like love, gentleness, kindness, softness etc. but that would be false. Seongje loves in his own way. He is cruel, yes, but there is certain gentleness when he pulls you into hugs. Geum Seongje knows mercy too. He is not soft like others but his edges and sharpness dull a little every time he's with you.

Maybe that's why he always seeks for you when he's injured. You offer him a quiet haven in your heart for nothing in exchange. You don't judge him. You don't ask questions. You don't look at him with fear or inferiority.

That's why he always crashes at your apartment after a big fight. You patch him up and offer him a warm meal. You offer him warmth no one else ever does.

Seongje looks at you confused. Your eyes are red and flowing with tears as you clean his bloodied knuckles. He does not understand why you're crying. But you look pretty, he doesn't want to question anything.

“I won, you know.” He breaks the silence.

“Yeah, I know.” You say, holding in a sniffle.

“So why are you crying?”

“Because you're hurt?”

Bloodied knuckles, busted lip, a black eye and different reds blooming under his skin on his body.

“You lack a sense of self preservation.” Seongje doesn't reply, he just studies your features. There's something unreadable in his expression. He silently acknowledges what you said as true. He doesn't know what to do when you sniffle and when your tears don't stop.

When you're finally done patching him up, you get up. He holds your wrist.

“The vegetables will get charred.” You say referring to the veggies on the pan you left unattended to focus on Seongje.

“Stay.” The ‘Please’ is left unsaid.

──────── ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ na baekjin

It isn't common for Baekjin to get into fights. And it is more uncommon for him to come back scathed– you see, Baekjin doesn't get his hands dirty. He rarely does so. And it's rarer for him to get hurt. His moves are always calculated and precise, there's no room for surprises or to get hurt for that matter.

So it is quite a moment when Baekjin enters his office with a gash along his cheek, walks towards his desk and crouches down to pull out a first aid box and puts it in front of you on the glass table, calmly. You look at him dumbly.

“Like am I…?” You start but then trail off, because obviously, he meant for you to patch him up.

“I don't see a mirror in here.” Whoa, Na Baekjin can be sarcastic if he wants.

“Then sit down, sir.” And with that Baekjin settles down next to you on the black leather couch of his modest office.

There's distance between you, you gesture with your hands for him to come closer and he follows. You break the distance between you both by pulling his face closer to yourself to inspect his cut and Baekjin notices how your face curls up in pain.

“You’re lucky it wasn't that deep. You’d have to get stitches on your pretty face.” Baekjin doesn't respond to your statement, but his gaze softens. A little smile forms on his face but it dissolves right away.

You start by wiping off the blood that trickled down towards his jaw and Baekjin closes his eyes—feeling your soft touches. One of your hands holding his face while the other wipes away the blood, there is a certain domesticity to this which he cherishes. Not that he would admit out loud. But it's evident in how his shoulders relax a little when you're nearby and how his fingers always try to find yours in the quiet moments when you're alone.

For a second, Baekjin wonders if it was not for the Union, would you two get to be normal? Act like those schoolmates who are dating— holding hands in the hallways, holding hands under the table in the cafeteria and sneaking off to the secluded corners of the school to make out.

He is pulled out of his thoughts when you say something, your voice sounds a little shaky and weak.

“I won't use the disinfectant, it’ll burn too much, so I'll use this cream… instead.”

He sees your eyes brimmed with tears, eyelashes heavy with tears weighing them down. His gaze softens.

“You are crying.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone.

“I am not! Atleast, not yet.”

“You worry for me too much.”

“You say it like it's a bad thing.” Your tears fall.

Ok, fair enough, Baekjin thinks. You're the only one who can get him tongue tied. If he can worry for you, then you can too.

He wipes the tears with the back of his hands, his touch is tender. You hold onto his hand, not letting him take it back, leaning into his touch.

“I love you.” You sniffle. His thumb rubs away another tear.

“I know. I love you too. I won't get hurt again.” He says. His voice doesn't have the edge he uses with others. A special voice just for you.

His gravity pulls you closer, heads tilting in unison, just a few centimetres apar–

A knock and the door opens.

“Am I interrupting something?” Geum Seongje. Motherfucker.

You groan.

Baekjin sighs.

note Ꮺ

longest work till now! i switched to regular font instead of subscript because personally reading text that small for so long strains my eyes. i also posted my stuff on wattpad, so if you use it, please support me on there too!

taglist. (join it here!)

@mariii-0001 @pavitrata @hanwoolvhs @svtf1lms @sadesutopia

also requests are open! im working on them so feel free to send in some requests. read more about requests here.

hiii, i love your work o(^o^)o

Can i request a go hyuntak hdc or a fluff, tyyyy

- The things he does without asking.

pairing: go hyuntak x reader

Warning: none

word count: 506

a/n: i've been so eager to write this but i litt almost never had the chance to due to school 💔 wish it was longer but still very cute

headcannons:

● when you walk to school together, he always takes your backpack without asking. you don’t even notice until the weight is gone. he just casually picks it up and carries it like it’s no big deal.

● you tell him he really didn’t have to, but he doesn’t say anything. he just keeps walking, looking straight ahead like it’s totally normal for him to do.

● he always walks on the side closest to the road. if you try to switch sides, he moves too, always staying on the outside. he never says it, but it’s like he’s quietly making sure you’re safe.

● he remembers everything you say, even the little things. what you like to eat when you’re upset, how you like your coffee, and that one song you can’t stop playing. it’s like he keeps track of every detail.

● when you forget your pen in class, he’s already handing you his. when you lose your charger, it’s already plugged into your phone. he never makes a fuss about it, he just does it without asking.

● if you’re tired, he lets you rest your head on his shoulder. he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just stays still. you can feel his warmth, and for a moment, everything feels calm.

● sometimes, you catch him looking at you. not in a creepy way, but in this soft, almost admiring way, like he’s watching you and doesn’t realize it. when you meet his gaze, he looks away quickly, acting like nothing happened.

● during lunch, he always saves you a seat next to him. no one else even tries to sit there, even if the place is crowded. he’ll just look at them, and they get the hint.

● if you’re upset, he doesn’t ask you a million questions. he’ll just sit next to you, close enough that you can feel his presence. the silence feels comforting, and you don’t need to say anything.

● you once called him soft, and he looked away, embarrassed. he muttered, “I’m not” but you could see the little red on his cheeks. he didn’t want to admit it, but it was obvious.

● when it’s cold, his jacket always ends up around your shoulders. even if he’s freezing, he doesn’t take it back. when you try to give it to him, he just shakes his head like it’s nothing.

● he doesn’t make a big deal about anything. when he cares about you, he shows it in little ways. in the way he holds your bag, the way he makes sure you’re okay, and the way he stays by your side even when he’s quiet.

i’m so sorry for being inactive 😔 school has literally taken over my life and i had really a really important test week which lasted more than a week btw 😭😭 anyways i’ll finish writing the requests for hunger games but y’all can start sending requests for beta squad, trent or jude 🫶🫶

NYE Kiss | Trent Alexander-Arnold

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Female Reader

Summary: At Trent's New Year's Eve party, he confesses to the reader, his childhood bestfriend, that he's lonely.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: mention of alcohol, angst, miscommuncation, childhood friends, kiss

Note: Happy New Year!

With twenty minutes left until the clock struck midnight, Trent’s brothers, Tyler and Marcel were already setting off fireworks. A couple of Trent’s teammates were also in attendance, and some of the friends you and he shared, but there were still a few valuable ones missing.

Despite Liverpool playing a match the next day, Trent still wanted to do something for New Year's Eve, even if it was a bit risky. But he promised Virgil he would kick everyone out by one in the morning so that they had time to be well-rested for the match, luckily it wasn’t a noon match. Even though he had his brothers, parents, and best mates surrounding him, the night still felt—empty. A bitter taste was left in his mouth as he took a swig of his drink, searching for a solution to his ache.

Trent makes his way over to you, a brown bottle pinched between his fingertips. It’s too dark for you to notice if he’s looking at you, but the pause in his step once his eyes land on you gives you everything you need to know. He stops at the pillar of the canopy, face lighting up with the blast of a firework, “Did the fireworks get too much for you already?”

You purse your lips, shaking your head, “No. I just keep having the recurring thought of one of the ashes falling on my hair and it going up in flames.”

The corner of his lip barely tugged up, “That’s quite an image.”

“It’s very rational,” you defend, tugging the sleeve of your knitted sweater over your hands. Trent was dressed way more casual than you, a black pair of sweatpants and a dark gray hoodie. Had you known him and his brothers would dress like that, then maybe you wouldn’t have nearly lost a finger trying to put yourself into your tight jeans tonight.

A beat of silence washes between the two of you as he decides to stay quiet. He wasn’t usually this quiet when the two of you were with his family, but when he was, he was thinking. So in his head that everything else was irrelevant. It could be a battle trying to ground him back to the present sometimes.

“So, how are you?” you break the silence, sparing a weary glance at him.

“Lonely,” he mumbles. He stays facing the alleyway of Tyler’s home where they light another firework and then scramble away from it.

“Lonely at the top,” you sing, referencing his team’s position at the top of the table. Trent gives you a hard look immediately and you quiet down, averting your eyes from his. “Sorry.” There’s a heavy plate of tension that fills the air between the two of you and despite you both being outside, it feels suffocating. “What’s wrong?”

He shrugs, “Everyone is moving.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone moved, I feel like I’m the only one who stayed,” he says. His voice is soft but aloof, still not giving you a glance. “I just thought you would stay. Was a slap in the face to see that your house was for sale.”

It was your parent’s house, the one you grew up in. You lived on the same street where Trent grew up, only three houses separating your families. After riding your bike down the street and dramatically tripping over the rock that you saw at the last minute, Trent came running out of his house and helped you up. Him and his brothers were playing football in the street, the three of them had just gone inside, but he noticed your sparkling pink bike and got distracted looking back at you. Once he realized a kiss to your scarred knee wasn’t going to make the bleeding stop, he called out for his mom and the three of you walked you and your bike back to that house after she cleaned your knee. Trent had stayed by your side the entire time, assuring you that your knee would be okay in the next couple of days.

The sound of a firework exploding shutters you out of the past, forcing yourself to look at a sullen Trent. His bottom lip is tucked through his teeth as his eyes follow the firework’s path. 

“Trent, can you look at me?” Trent slowly looks in your direction and his eyes seem more hurt than he lets on. Much different than the bright eyes that welcomed you two hours ago. You swallow, “Did you think we would live here forever? I mean Jude, Alana, Kai….” You list off the friends and neighbors you both shared who had since then moved away. 

He shakes his head, “Obviously not, but you could’ve told me you were moving.”

“I know, we’ve just both been so busy. We barely put up the house for sale a couple of days ago.”

Trent blinks his eyes a couple of times and doesn’t speak immediately.

“I am lonely though,” he confesses and it stabs you right in the heart. “The season has felt really long, haven’t seen you or the lads that much. I know you go to some of my games, but we don’t speak afterward, and I miss you. I miss having people around that aren’t my family.”

“Trent,” you sigh. “I’m sorry for not being there.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugs. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve tried to be there for you either.”

“Trent—”

He cuts you off, “I haven’t had much time either but I dunno…the time I do have at home, it’s so quiet. I’ve been staying at my parents house actually, for the past couple of days because I’ve been sick of the silence. Sure, I could’ve walked to your house but I never did…”

He swallows another swig of his drink, the bitter taste in his mouth had yet to leave. And after chewing on the inside of his cheek for so long, he also tasted copper. He couldn’t blame you for being busy. He knew you had just landed the job you had been working so hard for, at a company that treated you well and respected your work, and with the way Liverpool’s hectic season has been going, he didn’t have much time off either.

You're left with your thoughts screaming at you to say something, but what could you say that would heal his loneliness? That you two could schedule a meet up soon? But it wasn’t concrete, ‘soon’ could be tomorrow, could be a week or before the month ended.

“We should hang out sometime,” you decide. “I’ve missed you too. My schedule is clear for whenever, just let me know.”

He downs the rest of his drink, before tossing it in the bin that Tyler usually has next to the side of the canopy but it’s not there. The bottle goes crashing to the ground but doesn’t break, it rolls off some steps away from him and he ignores it.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, eyebrows raised. You knew he shouldn’t have been drinking the day before his game, even if it was New Year’s Eve.

Trent looks back at you, a tsk leaves his lips, “I’ve only had one.”

“One case?”

“Funny,” he grits, any humor in his tone is gone. “I’m being honest.”

You cross your arms, not realizing you pointing out him drinking would upset him. Yeah, maybe you wouldn’t want to be caught doing something you shouldn't be doing, but Trent had been acting out of character the moment he admitted his loneliness. He was never one to talk about his feelings, always shoving it somewhere down deep that you had given up trying to pry out of him a long time ago because it always upset him more than helped.

“Tell me what’s really wrong,” you demand.

He looks away but you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he glances down to the pavement. The door to the house suddenly bursts open behind you, his mother weaving through you both as if you aren’t standing there.

“Fifteen minutes until midnight!” She announces, and then marches back inside but stops once she notices the two of you, “Oh, you two look so cute. Please, you both can stay in the upstairs bedroom if you get too tired to drive home. I’m sure Tyler won’t mind.”

Her presence seems to break off the tension because Trent lets out a low chuckle, “You know, she always thought it’d be us.”

“Us…what?” You bite the annoyance of him switching the topic away.

“It’d be us,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “That we’d be married and have a kid by now.”

Your eyes bulge at his words. He had to be drunk.

His voice rumbles as he kicks an imaginary rock, “What? Does the idea of starting a family with me repulse you that much?”

“No,” you shake your head frantically, hoping you didn't make him feel more bad than what he was already feeling. If Trent was going to be vulnerable for the last fifteen minutes of the year, then fine, you weren’t going to be petty and let your own feelings get in the way of him being open. You choose your words carefully, “I just—” Screw sparing his feelings. “You’re drunk.”

He rolls his eyes, words spitting out of his mouth in irritation, “It was one drink. One drink does nothing to me other than make me honest. Even then, it wasn’t a high percentage of alcohol.”

Your eyes dance between his dark brown ones. They seem more watery than before, the glow of the light from the inside of the house and fireworks glaring off of them. You look away briefly, “Honest? Like I can ask you any question and you’ll tell the truth?”

“Well,” he shrugs, “I don’t need a drink in me to be honest. I’m always honest to you.”

“That’s a lie,” you remark. “You lied to me when you said I could take your car for a drive.”

He rolls his eyes, “That’s because I value my life.”

You huff, “You didn’t have to be in the car with me, but fine, whatever.” You needed to control any impulsive comment you had. Trent was opening up, this was unchartered territory, and maybe he needed a clean conscience for the New Year more than you did. “I wasn’t repulsed by the idea of starting a family with you, I was just shocked to hear you say that.”

Nothing could’ve prepared you to hear him utter those words. Sure, the two of you shared your first kiss together and took each other’s virginities on the night of your twentieth birthday, but the two of you were never anything more. Never went on a date, never received flowers from him—minus the single daisy he plucked out of the grass one day as an apology for leaving the rock in the middle of the sidewalk—but nothing the two of you did was glaringly romantic. He held your hand for a total of two minutes and fifteen seconds one day underneath the table at a shared family dinner, but nothing came of it either.

He was off focusing on the academy, while you were busy studying in school. Once he did make his first team debut, you were in the stands cheering him on. He felt like the happiest man—boy—that day, having both of your families witness his debut. But still, the bone-crushing hug he pulled you into after you all met in the car park, it meant—nothing.

Even the night you lost your virginity, him as well, it was haste. He was in your bedroom, flipping through the birthday cards you received when you confessed to him that it was comical being a virgin at twenty, feeling the weight of society’s judgment on your shoulders for whatever reason, while he didn’t laugh at all. The liquor you both were sipping on gave you both the courage as you went on, sneakily closing your bedroom door and turning a page. After the both of you came down from your high, he cuddled you for an hour before slipping out of your bedroom window and going home.

Nothing was ever really mentioned after that, the both of you deciding it was best to scrape it under the rug so that it wasn’t awkward at combined family dinners, but there was a feeling. A tingling feeling that made your voice hitch whenever he looked at you or texted you. Any visit you made from uni, your heart did flips when he pulled you into a hug and welcomed you home for that weekend.

He snorts, making your eyes dart to him, “We’re being honest, yeah?”

“I’m telling you the truth,” you say.

He nods, “Okay, I believe you.”

Another moment of silence passes between the two of you and he sighs, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Can I ask you another question?” you mumble and he nods. “Why did your mom think that?”

Trent shrugs for the hundredth time that night, leaning against the pillar as his head rests against it, “Because I told her that I liked you. She said to go for it, I told her I would, but I never did.”

Oh.

Oh.

“When was this?” you muster up the courage and power to ask, feeling breathless.

He blows a raspberry, “Maybe ten years ago?”

You're glad that Marcel misfires a firework that goes flying towards a tree to the left of the house, earning a commotion from Trent’s family and teammates, so that you have time to wipe off the shock before Trent looks at you.

Trent looks at the tree and holds his breath, hoping it erupts into flames. Perhaps he needed a break in the conversation as well. He felt exposed, too vulnerable at the expense of your curiosity and even though he said he would be honest, he wasn’t sure how much more truth he could give out when you weren’t exchanging much back.

“Why are you leaving?” he blurts out.

“You know I don’t live there right?” your eyebrow rises. Surely you told him you moved. “I moved out when I was twenty-two. I live almost ten minutes away, but my parents are moving because they need the money. After I left, they started spending on stuff that they shouldn’t have, putting us into a lot more debt than we should be. So, I say ‘we’ decided to sell because the only reason they were keeping the house was for me. For what it represented.”

Your childhood. A part of you was heartbroken for what it meant, but the other part of you knew it was the right thing to do. You knew it would serve you and your family well.

Trent eyebrows furrow, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you would’ve wanted to help.”

Trent averts his gaze, “I can. I can buy it.”

“Trent,” you gawk. “Seriously, I’m going to accuse you of being drunk again—”

“It’s your childhood home.”

“Yeah, and I made a choice. It was my choice to make.”

His shoulders deflate, “So you did want to leave?”

You nod, “It was time for a change. They lived there for the past twenty years. A home isn’t a single house anyway.”

“Do they have a place for after it sells?”

The quick glance at the floor reveals the almost lie you would’ve told him, but the two of you agreed to be honest, so you shake your head, “No. They haven’t left the house entirely. They still live there and whatever they make from the sale, they’ll use it to purchase their next.”

“I can buy it,” he states again and you shake your head.

“Trent, you aren’t going to buy my childhood home, drop it,” you spit, voice unwavering as he looks back at you. His jaw is clenched.

“Fine,” he agrees. “But if you have any doubts, I can buy it. I’ll give them whatever double the asking price is—”

“Trent.” You knew he wasn’t going to drop it, he’d most likely ask your parents first thing tomorrow and you didn’t even want to think about what their response would be.

He sighs, “Okay.”

Instead of letting the conversation simmer into silence, you take a deep breath and ask him another question. Here goes nothing: “Why didn’t you ever pursue your feelings?”

Trent rotates his body towards yours, leaning against the column with his shoulder. His hands are still stuffed into the pockets of his sweats. “I was fifteen, I was scared.”

At fifteen, the two of you would’ve already shared your first kiss and held hands underneath the table. You were so giddy, but you weren’t sure if you were giddy at the idea of getting caught or because you had a crush on Trent. The two of you spent so much time growing up together, playing footy, exploring the neighborhood, everything. Tyler would often tag along, and then Marcel as well once he got older, but still you knew you were closer to Trent more.

“And they’ve just gone away?” you ask without a second thought. Your heart lurches as he looks away. What a stupid thing to say!

He coughs, clearing out his throat and your cheeks burn. He looks down at the hem of your sweater, “Would my mother still be trying to play matchmaker if not?”

A squeezing feeling encompasses your chest that you wince. The shock was gone, you were upset now. It had been ten years, you could excuse the first five years because they were hectic with you at uni and him training, but the both of you had sex knowing the feelings were there.

Because no matter how much you tried to convince yourself you didn’t have feelings for Trent, they were always still going to be there. He was the first boy you were really exposed to. The boy you followed throughout the neighborhood despite not knowing anything about him. You wanted to be brave and follow him into the woods. Doing all sorts of things you would’ve never done had he not been by your side. The sweet boy who kissed your knee in hopes of getting you to stop crying held your heart the moment he ran to you.

He watches the way your eyes dart from the fireworks to his family members cheering as they drink a champagne flute. The crease in your eyebrow and nose, he knew you were in deep thought. On a night of too many truths, he was exhausted.

“Just say it,” he whispers. “We’re being honest.”

“You watched me,” you start, voice trembling but teeth grinding, “you watched me get my heartbroken not once, but twice. Gave me all this advice on boys, broke my heart in the process because I thought you didn’t like me back, and then I went on to have two relationships where they were both shit. And you just watched? Knowing you felt something?”

Trent can’t stand to hear the shake in your voice, it itching his ear in a way that makes him tilt his head away from you.

You continue, “I liked you too, a lot. So much that I would sometimes scare myself because I would see my exes as you, even though sometimes it would be months since we last talked. You were always on my mind, and had you said something earlier, all of it,” you wave your arms around to symbolize the time and heartache lapsed. “All of it could’ve been avoided.”

Trent glances down, “I was a coward.”

“No shit,” you yell. Trent abruptly looks at the crowd of people and hopes you don’t catch their attention.

“I wasn’t ready,” he says, truthfully. “I wasn’t ready to give you my all if we had gotten together. I was still finding my footing on the team, all of my focus was on that and wouldn’t have been on you if we were together. Okay,” he relents, “maybe I could’ve spared your heartache had you known, but it just—it wasn’t worth all the drama—”

“Drama?”

He shuts his eyes closed. Think! “It wouldn’t have been worth you getting hurt because I had training. Or I had a game and had to miss something important of yours. I would’ve been physically there but not emotionally present—”

“Do you think I would’ve cared, Trent?” you gape.

He shakes his head, “You wouldn’t, and that’s the problem. You wouldn’t have deserved that. You wouldn’t have deserved me not being present, it would’ve driven us both away. The only times I saw my family were because they came to my game and I met them at their suite. That would’ve been the only time you and I interacted, do you seriously think you would’ve been okay with that?”

No. But you would’ve been content knowing he felt the same. The small moments you saw him would’ve made up for any multi-hour-long day spent with him.

“Like you needed to find yourself at uni and focus on what you were passionate about, I did too,” he says. His voice is much softer and less urgent, knowing that you were understanding and on the same page as him. “But I’m ready now. I’m not saying you have to be ready right now—or maybe you won’t ever be because you don’t have the same feelings you once had—but, I’m here now. I’m as present as I’ll ever be. The season started off fast and will continue to be difficult, but I’ve learned how to be present at home. How to not focus on football and be with my family and pets during my spare time.”

On cue, the rest of Trent’s family—and yours—burst through the back door. There are only a couple of minutes until midnight, those fifteen minutes blew right past the both of you. Tyler and Marcel had stopped popping fireworks as they compiled a bunch together to be ignited exactly at twelve.

Trent looks at you, pulling your hand so that you’re closer to him near the pillar as your family members stampede outside, settling in lawn chairs and anywhere on the floor. Trent hasn’t dropped your hand yet. He caresses the backside of your hand with his thumb as his fingers squeeze tighter around yours.

“I know I was a coward, I know I could’ve said it anytime you were around, but it was never the right time,” he whispers in your ear. “We were busy, our lives never aligned perfectly, and maybe they don’t align right now either, but I’m willing to take the risk.”

A breathy sigh escapes you as you soak in his words. You close your eyes as you lean the side of your head against his chest. You needed to be grounded as you thought, and he was always someone stable. His hands don’t wrap you into a hug because he knows exactly what you’re doing.

“I still like you,” you acknowledge. “I’m a little upset you kept this a secret.” He snorts. “But, if I’m being honest, I’m not sure when I would’ve bursted and confessed the same thing. I wanted to tell you that we were moving, especially whenever we were thinking about it when it was first brought up, but I stopped myself. I was scared, because I knew my first instinct to reach out to you meant that it was something more, that I saw you as someone more than just my friend. That I always have. Every failed relationship was a reminder of it.”

Trent chuckles, finally being able to breathe. The tightening feeling in his chest had dissipated, replaced with jittery nerves as he restrained himself from pulling you into a hug.

You drop Trent’s hand and face him. If he was confused, he hid it well.

“I’m willing to take the risk too,” you state, the heavy weight on your shoulders dissolving. “I’m trusting you, just like I trusted you the day I followed you into the woods.”

“We ended up getting lost,” he recalls. He isn’t sure how much longer he can keep his hands off of you.

“I know,” you smile. “But I trusted you still, despite being so scared. I knew you would keep your promise and get us out of there before the moon rose. I’m willing to get lost with you, wherever you are, I want to be there.”

“You trust me?” he cheeses, his lips breaking out further into a grin. A chorus of a ten-second countdown breaks out in the background.

“Of course, stupid,” you smack his bicep and the brief contact makes the both of you hold a breath.

Trent knew he couldn’t get the smile off of his face no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t expect to have this conversation with you tonight, but after seeing you underneath the canopy, your clothes and figure lighting up from the colorful lights of the fireworks, he knew he couldn’t let you walk away from him again. You didn’t even hold his heart in the palm of your hands, you held it in your gaze. One look at him from you and he was floored, a weak and desperate man on his knees begging for your attention.

“…three, two, one, Happy New Year!”

Your blissful eyes combined with his gleeful ones don’t look away as you both lean closer. Your hands stay tucked by your side, his suddenly not wanting to move either as he leans down. The moment your nose grazes his, you close your eyes and let him kiss you. You press your lips further into his as the sound of fireworks go off behind you.

The kiss feels like the first one you shared together, tentative but passionate. It feels like a new promise, one full of commitment for the year to come. A promise from him that he’ll be there for every second of the day, and you a promise to be present as well. To not make him feel like he needs to bottle up his emotions and wait until the last minute to confess them.

His hands find your cheeks at the same time you wrap your arms around his waist. He pulls away and sighs against your lips, resting his forehead against yours. “Happy New Year, sweetheart.”

“Happy New Year,” you smile, pecking his lips one more time before burying your head into his chest. He pulls you in for a bone-crushing hug, squeezing your shoulders tightly against him and then resting his head on top of yours.

Instead of letting you close your eyes to soak in the feelings of him being this close in your arms, he shuffles the both of you and points up, “Look up.”

His careful gaze looks down at you as he double checks that you’re actually looking up at the fireworks, but he bursts into a nervous laugh when he sees you looking back at him. You can feel his heart quicken its pace as he stutters, “No, not me. The sky!”

“You’re so happy,” you whisper. Earlier his eyes were on the verge of breaking down, but now, they seem so full of light and hope.

“Yeah,” he slips his hand back around your waist. “I got the girl of my dreams in my arms, my girl.” He enunciates the last two words like they’re a testimony.

Your cheeks rush with heat that you’re glad he can’t feel them. He leaves a chaste kiss on your temple before looking back up at the fireworks. And then he glances down suddenly, “Do you remember when we made that fort in my living room?”

You burst into a laugh, pulling away from his chest, “What?”

“The fort,” he repeats, “it ended up crumbling because Marcel rolled too far and pulled the blankets down—you remember?”

You nod, bewildered by his sudden excitement.

“Well, the spare bedroom of Tyler’s only has a mattress on the floor, but there are some chairs and sofas we can combine to you know,” he lets his voice fade away.

“You have a game tomorrow, maybe you shouldn’t be sleeping on the floor.”

“It’s a new mattress! That’s why it has nothing else,” he laughs. His laugh is intoxicating that all your logic and usual bickering dies out. He could build the fort, you’d be right there helping him either way.

Your heart swells as his eyes go wide, his face glowing red. He taps your waist, “Look, look look.”

The red firework that just popped erupts into the shape of a heart. You smile, standing on your tippy toes to give him a kiss. To think you’ve been missing this for the past twenty years that you’ve known him. What a fool the both of you were.

That night, Trent holds his promise as you help him build the fort around the mattress. You steal a lantern from Tyler’s shed outside while Trent found blankets to use and old moving boxes. It isn’t an exact replica like the two of you first shared, but it’s quite close, only this time you two are wrapped in each other’s arms.

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

loml

˗ˏˋ welcome to l5byrinth ´ˎ˗

"love you to the moon and to saturn."

n. | aquarius | infj

NAVIGATION

my masterlist

requests = closed

who/which fandoms i write for:

it’s always the characters in my masterlist that i write for. my masterlist will probably expand as time goes by ;).

what i don’t write:

i don’t write smut (yet), simply because i have no idea how to, any weird things like cannibalism, incest and so on and on.