Sickeningly In Love Literally.

scenario 21 with thanos please? it doesn’t matter which is x or which is y!

SLEEPY GIRL

scenario 21: x falling asleep on y

parings: thanos/choi su bong x f!reader

warnings: none (insane for me i know)

The train was packed.

Not just crowded—packed.

Bodies pressed together, people swaying with the movement of the train, the air thick with the scent of sweat, coffee, and city life. You barely had the energy to care.

Twelve hours.

Twelve fucking hours on your feet, running from patient to patient, drowning in paperwork, barely a second to breathe. Your scrubs smelled like antiseptic, your feet ached, and the weight of exhaustion sat heavy on your bones.

You didn’t even remember finding a seat.

Didn’t remember lowering yourself onto the worn-out cushion, letting the rocking of the train lull you.

But you did remember the warmth beside you.

A firm shoulder, broad and steady.

You didn’t mean to lean into it.

Didn’t mean to let your head fall, cheek pressing against the soft fabric of a hoodie that smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and cologne.

But you did.

And whoever was sitting next to you…

Didn’t move.

Didn’t nudge you off, didn’t clear their throat in irritation, didn’t even shift uncomfortably.

They just let you sleep.

—

Thanos exhaled through his nose, staring blankly at the train doors as they rattled along the tracks.

It had been a long fucking day.

He barely wanted to go to his friend’s place in the first place, but Nam-Gyu had insisted. “Just come by, have a drink, chill for a bit,” he’d said. “You never go out anymore.”

And fine. He went. Smoked a bit, laughed a bit, but by the time he was on his way home, all he wanted was his bed.

Then you happened.

He wasn’t even paying attention at first. The train was loud, crowded, his music was playing low in his headphones—background noise against the chaos.

And then he felt it.

A weight.

Warm. Light.

Your head, resting against his shoulder.

He glanced down, taking in the way your eyelashes fluttered slightly in your sleep, the soft rise and fall of your chest, the way you looked like you’d hit your limit and just crashed.

He could’ve moved you.

He should’ve moved you.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he let you stay there, let you use him as your pillow, let the train rock you deeper into sleep.

And maybe he was going fucking soft, but something about it…

Felt nice.

The train slowed.

Thanos sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. His stop.

He turned his head slightly, glancing at you. You were still out, lips parted slightly, head heavy against him.

Carefully, gently, he shifted, sliding his arm between your head and his shoulder, easing you away from him. Your head lolled slightly, and then—

You blinked awake.

Your eyes, hazy and confused, met his.

“Oh my god.” Your voice was hoarse, thick with sleep as you shot upright, realization dawning. “I—Did I—Was I just—”

Thanos smirked. “Yeah.”

Your face burned. “Shit, I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t worry about it.” He stood up, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket. “Looked like you needed it.”

You blinked up at him, still dazed.

And then you noticed—he was getting off at the same stop as you.

You scrambled to your feet, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Still. That’s—I mean, thanks, I guess.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You always fall asleep on random men?”

You rolled your eyes, stepping off the train beside him. “Only the ones with nice shoulders.”

Thanos huffed a laugh, glancing over at you. “Lucky me.”

You walked in silence for a moment, both of you heading towards the exit, the cool night air creeping in through the station.

When you reached the stairs, you hesitated.

He hesitated too.

You were going in different directions.

And yet…

Something lingered.

A strange pull, something you couldn’t name.

An invisible string, tying you together for just a moment longer.

You looked at him.

He looked at you.

“Well,” you exhaled, adjusting your bag strap. “Goodnight, Shoulder Man.”

His lips quirked. “Goodnight, Sleepy Girl.”

And then you both walked away.

In opposite directions.

But neither of you could shake the feeling that somehow, somewhere—

You’d see each other again.

lightning & chemistry

Trent Alexander-Arnold x Reader

summary: you find yourself trapped with trent in your professor's office with a storm raging outside, forcing you two to sort out your problems.

word count: 3k

warnings: language. this is fluff. idiots in love?

a/n: this fic officially commemorates the first usage of 'y/n' on a karotland production. everyone CLAP!!👏🏽 i honestly dont know what this is lmaoo. i just needed it out of my drafts hehehe, enjoyyyy

You glanced up towards the greying sky, eyeing the heavy clouds as you walked on the stoned pavement leading towards the professor’s building. You tried to calm yourself, repeatedly telling yourself that this wasn’t the storm that your weather app had alerted you about in the morning that you had merely scoffed at, deciding to forgo anything that could have brave the rain.

You clutched the file closer to your chest containing the last assignment needed by your professor before spring break would start.You really wanted to kick yourself for not submitting it yesterday, deciding to pull your roommate Sarah’s ears when you would see her again. What had she said? But this is the last time we’ll get to hang out without the pressure of exams! You had a mind to make today the last day ever for Sarah when you got back.

Well, if you got back.

The trees began to sway a little with the wind picking up but still not enough to make you worry. Or maybe that was your delusion talking. Besides there were other people walking around campus with you so it didn’t concern you to the level of breaking into a run to a nearby shelter.  Your eyes remained fixed on the path in front of you.

“Y/N! Wait up!”

The familiar voice made you falter in your steps, glancing over your shoulder to see Trent jogging up to you and falling in step with you. “Hey.”

You rolled your eyes at him in greeting, feeling annoyance add to your anxiety. “What are you doing outside? Don’t you see the storm brewing up?”

“Says the person who is currently marching furiously through campus,” Trent said, adjusting the straps of his backpack. His gaze fell on file you were holding, “You’re submitting the assignment on the last day!? No way, lemme get a picture of this.”

Your cheeks got hot as you smacked Trent’s phone out of your face. You were definitely going to pull Sarah’s ears. “Go away Trent! I don’t need an addition to my ever growing problems.”

Trent grinned mischievously, putting his phone away and tapping the file he was holding in his right hand. “I’m only messing with you; I was also on the way to submit mine.”

“Of course, you were,” you replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “You sure you didn’t have it all neatly wrapped up and ready to go days ago?”

“Melts my heart that you know me so well,” Trent gushed causing you to stomp your footsteps in frustration and purposefully walking a few steps ahead of him.

You didn’t miss his smirk from the corner of your eye as he lazily caught up to your new speed. Trent seemed in no mood of taking a hint of him being unwanted, continuing to walk with you with an aloof expression on his face as you tried to huff at his presence and throw him dirty looks whenever your shoulder would clash with his.

You turned your face to snap at him to keep his distance when a sudden blast of wind hit you out of nowhere, the force so fierce that it took you surprise cause you to stumble back into Trent’s shoulder, his hand forming a firm grip on your arm to make sure you did not fall.

Before you could register the shock of being held in Trent’s strong arms, the raindrops came down in a sudden downpour, the noise almost deafening. The cold temperature of the rain caused you to suck in a sharp breath in surprise and press yourself closer to Trent’s warm side.

“Oh shit!” You heard Trent exclaim. “C’mon we have to get out of this rain.”

He took your hand and pulled you along with him, making a break for the professor’s office building that was only a little way ahead. You tried your best not to slip on the wet stoned pathway, grateful for Trent’s hand knowing well that without it, you would have fallen smack down on your face long ago.

You and Trent exchanged a glance, your clothes soaked through despite the limited time that you had spent in the rain. For a moment, you both stood in silence, the only sound coming was the steady drumming of rain outside the building doors, Trent’s warm unwavering grip still in your hand.

“Well, this is just perfect,” You muttered, snatching your hand back and wringing out your sleeve.

Trent chuckled, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I’m really glad I decided to bring my assignment covered in a file. My shoes on the other hand,” he glanced down at them, “Well, I can’t say the same for them.”

You shot Trent a dirty look, letting out a sigh of exasperation before trudging inwards. You checked on your assignment, relief flooding your body knowing that it was as dry as a bone.

The squelching sound of wet footsteps echoed in the empty hallways, Trent’s footsteps out of sync with yours. The door to your professor’s office was shut, making you stop in your steps. Trent bumped into you with a gentle ‘oof’ leaving his lips, not expecting you to stop so suddenly.

“Why have we stopped?” Trent blinked, peering over your head.

“The door is closed.”

“Okay. So?”

“So??” You sighed, irritated. “Well we can’t possibly go in.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s closed,” You said in a seething tone, pointing at the door.

Trent rolled his eyes at that, pushing forward past you and immediately going for the handle. Before you could protest, he twisted the doorknob and swung the door wide open, letting out a little ‘aha!’. He walked inside, waiting a moment before looking over his shoulder to see you still standing where you were. “Aren’t you gonna come in?”

You hesitated, clutching your assignment tighter. “I don’t know. Is it even okay for us to be in here?”

“Yeah,” Trent’s voice came from inside the office, “They only lock it after 8pm whenever the professor has given out an assignment for submission. Besides,” his head popped back into view, “It is a well known make out spot.”

You scoffed at that, heat crawling up your neck, entering through the threshold and heading straight towards the desk where Trent’s assignment now lay.

“I’m kidding,” Trent chuckled, “That’s actually Professor Willbury’s office next door.”

If only looks could kill, Trent would have been done for with the glare you were giving him on your way out after having submitted your work. “Let’s leave before I have the misfortune of being discovered alone with you inside a secluded room.”

You began to walk back from where you two had entered the building, praying that the rain had let up so you could go back to the safety of your cozy dorm room instead of having to spend anymore unnecessary time with Trent. The closer you got, the louder the sound of the rain started to get, sinking any hopes of a safe trip back.

Trent whistled in surprise, “How has that gotten faster?”

“Well we’re not going anywhere for a while,” You said mournfully, throwing yourself on the bench that was put up against one side of the wall of the hallway. With a sigh, Trent took a seat opposite to you on an identical bench.

You focused on your shoes, noting the splatter of mud on the soles, trying to ignore Trent’s whistling that seemed to have no real tune. You thought that after months of sharing the same classroom, his presence would become more digestible but sadly that was not the case.

Trent was…okay. Annoying, sure. But okay. Your official introduction to him had been in class when you had accidentally smacked your pen so that it had fallen right next to Trent’s foot who was at the time sat in front of you. You had politely tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he could pick it up for you. But the look Trent had given you made it seem as though you had asked him to bring the planet pluto for you. After a million grunts, he had picked it up, dropped the pen on your desk and had gone back to his notebook.

After a strange few interactions, Trent had slowly begun to warm up to you but your petty mind had latched onto the pen episode quite fiercely, still maintaining an air of coldness towards him. Again, it’s not like you had asked for his kidney, just to pass your pen back; a seemingly easy task to do without giving you one hell of an attitude.

The closest you had come to breaking that resolve was during a certain house party when you had suddenly gotten lost between a crowd of people dancing, being pushed around in your unstable shoes when out of nowhere, Trent had you gripped by your forearm, guiding you out of the crowd. He had let go of your hand just as quick as he had grabbed it, shooting a small smile your way before going back to his friends.

You thought about that moment a lot, the way his hot hand had held onto you so securely. You at times wondered if he remembered it all or even thought about it, never having acknowledged it to you again.

“So are you going home during the break?” Trent’s voice tore you out of your thoughts.

You stared at him hard, mind not processing despite your ears hearing what he had said. “What?”

Trent chuckled. “Spring break? Are you gonna go home or stay on campus?”

“Oh,” You said blankly, “Yeah I’m going home by the train on Sunday afternoon.”

Trent ‘aahed’ at that, pursing his lips. You shuffled your feet closer to yourself, sitting up a bit straighter, “You?”

“Yeah, I’ll be driving home on Monday. My home’s fairly close so it won’t take long.”

You nodded at that, sniffing your nose, unsure of what to say. Trent’s foot began to tap lightly against the floor as he fixated his gaze up on the ceiling.

It weirded you out how little conversation there was between you as you looked onto the patterned floor, unsure on how to pass the time. You looked up to Trent at the same time he looked down at you, eyes locking in an instant before the two of you looked sideways in opposite directions, breaking the contact.

Trent jumped up from his seat as he walked towards the main door, peering out from the side windows at the pouring rain that showed no sign to stop. Your eyes followed his every move, your heart leaping in your chest when he suddenly spun around to you. “I don’t suppose you have an umbrella in your bag?”

You looked at him confused, “No, why?”

“I dunno,” He shrugged casually, “We could try and make a run for it.”

Just when he said that a loud clap of thunder boomed outside causing Trent to jump a little. You gave him a teasing smile, shaking your head, “Wow. I can’t be that bad of company that you’re willing to brave the weather outside instead of sitting here with me.”

Trent froze where he was, not expecting your teasing tone. He took a moment to recollect his thoughts, relaxing his shoulders. He walked up to where you were, plopping down next to you, and in a tone just as teasing as yours, “I was just being mindful of you not wanting to be seen with me in such a popular make out spot.”

“I thought you said that was Professor Willbury’s?”

“Well that’s number one, this,” he gestured with his hands, “is number two on the list.”

“There’s a list?” You laughed in disbelief.

“Why?” He leaned towards you, eyes boring into yours, “Do you want to go somewhere else then?”

You rolled your eyes, irritation blooming in your stomach again (or were you mistaking your irritation for something else?), “Forget it! You’re impossible so let’s just wait in silence.”

“Okay sorry! I didn’t mean that. I’ll be normal now,” Trent quickly apologized with a chuckle, sitting back and upright. “I just get a bit nervous around you.”

The laughed that escaped your lips was highly unprompted, coming out a bit crueler than you had wanted, “Yeah sure okay. You nervous around me.”

He gawked at you, looking a bit confused, “Why’d you say it like that?”

You don’t know why but that made you laugh out louder, pretty sure that there was an insult somewhere in his words but you couldn’t find it. “I’m sorry,” You said between laughs, “That’s just the most insane thing I’ve heard all week.”

Trent folded his arms in front of his chest, huffing out a breath, “Well it’s not my fault that for someone who’s so smart, you’re so dense. But don’t worry sweetheart, you haven’t broken my resolve for flirting with you yet.”

Scratch frame. Wait. What?

You looked at him, his brown eyes holding you captive as you searched his face for answers. You peered at him, trying to discern if he was pulling your leg. He had to be, right?

Because you would have known if he was flirting with you. Was it when he started sitting next to you in class instead of in front of you? Or was it when you ran into him on campus in the middle of the night and he walked you to your dorm despite your protests?

The parties where he would suddenly appear, whispering in your ear how good you looked? All the bickering you two would do in the library and everyone would desperately shush you? That was him flirting and not trying to rile you up?

You licked your dry lips, Trent’s eyes falling down at the motion. You broke out into an awkward chuckle, “What do you mean flirting?”

It was Trent’s turn to look surprised now, searching your face for answers. Once he saw that you were being serious, he inhaled a sharp breath following it with laughter. He smacked his palm against his forehead, letting out a small groan, “Oh god this explains so much.” He composed himself, eyes now twinkling as he leaned close to your face, “You’re telling me I’ve been busting my ass, following you around, practically worshipping the ground you walk on and you’re asking me ‘what do you mean flirting?’?

You tried your best not to squirm under his gaze, gulping heavily at his close proximity, “I thought you hated me.”

Trent let out a low chuckle, his hot breath fanning your face, “Now what would make you even think that?”

“The pen,” You mumbled.

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“The pen,” You said in a louder voice now, “When I asked you to give me my pen back, the way you did it made it seem like I had asked something impossible for you to do, all groans and moans.”

“That class,” Trent’s fingers lightly grazed your knee, sending a gently shiver down your back, “Was right after the first training session of the year. I was just sore from the workout.”

“Oh.” You felt so stupid right now, mentally slamming your head against a wall for basing an entire opinion on someone after a silly first interaction despite there being multiple evidence to suggest the contrary.

But you had never considered them, brain still grasping firmly to the ‘pen incident’. You would have muttered out an apology if you weren’t so distracted by Trent’s feather light touches, flexing your thigh involuntarily under his touch.

Trent was so close that you and him were breathing the same air now, breaths synchronized. With his free hand, he gently caressed your cheek, angling your face closer to his. You let him bring you close, eyes fluttering when his nose nudged yours, his lips ghosting over yours so softly that you felt your skin prickle under his. You parted your lips in anticipation, breath getting a little erratic, desperately waiting for the moment when his hot lips would finally press against yours, confirming your suspicions that they were good for something other than talking back to you.

But the moment didn’t come.

His warmth disappeared. You frowned deeply, opening your eyes to see Trent sitting back in his original position, an amused look on his face as he took in your flustered one. He casually picked at his trousers, flicking off a stray thread, “Hmm, I don’t really know what to say.”

The heat in your cheeks now turned into the heat in your chest. You let out a noise of distaste, getting up from your seat and stomping towards the exit door. You looked hard at the rain, hoping the sight of water would cool you down, hands curled into fists on your sides. Still so fucking annoying.

You gasped as you felt a hand slide against your waist, the warmth enveloping you again with Trent’s low baritone, hushed voice pressed against your ear, “Guess I’ll have to plead my case harder with you.”

You leaned into his side, hip pressing against his side, enjoying the little sigh that left his lips, “Finally going to stop acting like a coward and ask me out on a date?”

He offered you a wide grin, “Sure. Mini-golf course on Friday night sounds good?” You nodded, smiling back and feeling his fingers squeeze your waist, “Or you know we could just head back to the professor’s-”

Trent laughed when you smacked his chest, cutting his sentence short. “Alright alright, I’ll kiss you later then.”

Future Promises

Dae-ho x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: violence. blood and injury. murder. character death (not reader).

Summary: When a fight breaks out in the bathroom, Y/N gets caught in the middle of it. When the eliminated players are announced, Dae-ho panics.

Requested: Yes

Squid Game Masterlist

The divide in the room was clear. Each side equal in terms of numbers yet Y/N could feel the murderous gazes from the ‘O’ side of the room. While others around her talked to one another, trying to ease some of the tension, Y/N sat on her own. She wasn’t too far away from the rest of the group but she was far enough away to be able to breathe. 

For the entire duration of her time in the games, she didn’t have a single change to calm her body down. Even when she slept she was always on high alert. Taking a step away from everyone was what was best for her right now– especially when she needed to prepare to defend herself if it came to that. Y/N didn’t miss the way each player had received a glass bottle and a metal fork with their meal when they hadn’t before. Her fork was securely concealed in her jacket. 

Y/N rested her head on the cool tile wall and sighed. The room seemed much larger now compared to when she had woken up only days ago– though to her it seemed like weeks. There were only one hundred players left out of four hundred and fifty six and somehow Y/N was one of them. Though she might not have been if it wasn’t for one particular person. 

Kang Dae-ho was someone Y/N never thought she would see in these games. They weren’t exactly friends before the games, only worked at the same part-time job. But seeing him was like a breath of fresh air. If it wasn’t for him, Y/N was sure that she would have been killed during the mingle game. The whole time, he had kept her hand firmly clasped in his. When the final round called for two players, he didn’t hesitate to pull her along to a room, pushing her in first before himself. The fear Y/N had felt during that game– if Dae-ho hadn’t been by her side she would have froze up and never left that rotating platform. 

“Y/N,” a familiar voice called to her before she felt the warm and comforting presence sitting beside her. “What are you doing over here on your own?”

Y/N opened her eyes, not realising she had closed them. “I needed to step away for a bit.”

Dae-ho’s thigh pressed against hers. “Tell me next time. I didn’t know where you went.”

Y/N turned to him and offered him a small tight lipped smile. “I’m okay.”

Dae-ho didn’t return her smile, already knowing that it wasn’t genuine. From where his hands were resting in his lap, Y/N watched as they twitched– hesitantly decided if they should reach out to her. Taking the initiative, Y/N held her hand out. A small flash of surprise appeared on Dae-ho’s face before he gently held her hand in his, linking their fingers together. 

The corner of Y/N’s lips tugged up in a smile as she rested her head against the cool tile wall. “I don’t think I’ve told you but I’m glad you’re here. Well, not here exactly– but here with me. Seeing someone I recognised made me feel…safer. So thank you.”

Dae-ho’s gaze was fixated on their clasped hands. “Don’t thank me. Honestly seeing you here made me feel safer even though I hate that you are trapped here too.”

“We both made a stupid choice by phoning that number,” Y/N said. “When we get out of here, let’s not phone any strange numbers in the future.”

A quiet laugh emitted from Dae-ho and caused Y/N to smile. “Agreed.”

A silence washed over them but it was comfortable and if Y/N closed her eyes, she could pretend that they were in the break room at their shitty job. Instead of bidding goodbye at the end of the day like she usually did, she would take the risk and ask him for dinner. Finally doing what her friend had demanded of her when she first started the job and asking her attractive coworker out.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Y/N said, standing to her feet, her hand slipping out of Dae-ho’s. 

“I’ll go with you,” Dae-ho offered, quickly standing with her. 

“To the women’s bathroom?” Y/N asked, a soft chuckle leaving her lips. 

For a short moment, Dae-ho seemed embarrassed but it quickly seemed to fade. “I’ll keep watch outside.”

A small genuine smile tugged at her lips as she rested her hands on his biceps. “I’ll be fine. You don’t need to protect me, you’ve done that enough already.”

“I’m sorry,” a woman a little older than Y/N said. Y/N glanced at the woman’s number. Player 91. “I overheard you going to the bathroom. We could go together, safety in numbers. I noticed some other women go there not too long ago.”

Y/N turned her attention back to Dae-ho. “See, I’ll be fine.”

There seemed to be nothing that could convince Dae-ho but the moment she leant up and pressed a soft kiss against his cheek all rational thoughts swimming through his mind seemed to evaporate. Y/N laughed and gently trailed her hands down his arms to his hands, offering him a comforting squeeze. “I’ll be fine.”

Slowly, Dae-ho nodded. “Be safe.”

As she took a step back from Dae-ho, he held onto her hands until she was too far to comfortably hold onto them. Y/N allowed her hands to slip from his but the moment his warmth fell away, she craved it once more. Y/N pushed her hands into the pockets of her jacket and offered Dae-ho one final parting smile before following the woman to the bathroom. 

***

Y/N watched as the water dripped from her chin back into the sink as she sighed. She could only hope that not everyone was bright enough to realise they could freely harm anyone that opposes their vote and in the morning they would be able to vote and return home. 

“So you voted to return home?” a woman said, approaching Y/N. 

Y/N didn’t bother to look at the woman as she answered. “Clearly, and anyone with a few brain cells would realise that is the best option for everyone here.”

The woman hummed. “Didn’t you vote to continue the games during the first vote?”

“I did,” Y/N answered. “It was a selfish decision and I regret it.”

“What changed your mind?” the woman questioned. 

“After nearly dying during the second game, I realised that risking my life for money isn’t worth it,” Y/N said, her grip tightening on the skin as Dae-ho’s face flushed in her mind. 

During the six-legged pentathlon, their small group of five was already decided until Jun-hee came along asking to join their team. The moment she found out the younger girl was pregnant, Y/N didn’t hesitate to join another team. 

Dae-ho insisted that he should be the one who left but Y/N refused and found another team, she was one of the first to complete it with one second to spare. For hours she had sat on her bed watching the door waiting for Dae-ho to enter, her anxiety rising when he never entered. When he finally did, Y/N’s heart rate still refused to drop. From then she realised that no matter how much money she would get if she continued to play, it wasn’t worth nearly losing Dae-ho and the other friends she had made. But just the thought of losing Dae-ho sent Y/N into a panic she didn’t see coming. 

“So those who died during those games didn’t matter to you? Only your life matters?” the woman said, continuing to pester Y/N. 

Finally Y/N turned and faced the woman. “Realistically those people would have died anyway. If I wasn’t in these games then nothing would change, someone else would be here in my place and everything would turn out exactly the same.” Y/N glanced at the blue patch on the woman’s jacket. “Seems like you don’t seem to care if people die or not considering you are too fucking selfish and you want more money.”

“Careful how you speak to me,” the woman said. “Once all of you who voted to leave are gone, us who voted to stay will each have over 800 million won each.” Slowly, the woman raised her hand, a silver fork shining in the dim lighting. The fork was pressed  against Y/N’s neck as she looked at the woman standing before her. Despite the situation, Y/N didn’t feel intimidated by the women at all, she was shorter and  was physically weaker than Y/N. 

“I’m only going to say this once,” the woman said, lowering her voice. “Change your vote, continue the games. If you do, I will make sure you get through to the end and get your share of the money.”

No matter how hard she tried, Y/N failed to contain the laughter that slipped past her lips. “I’d believe it if you weren’t threatening me right now. How am I meant to believe you won’t backstab me in the next game?”

The fork was pressed deeper against her neck and Y/N winced. “You need to trust me,” the woman said. 

“Trust a woman who is one movement away from plunging a damn fork into my neck? I think I’ll naively believe that someone will come to their senses and change their vote by morning,” Y/N replied. “Now take that fork away from my neck.”

“Or what?” the woman asked, an unhinged smile spreading across her face. 

“The group that voted to stay are currently outnumbered in this bathroom, five to nine. If you fight, you’ll be overpowered,” Y/N answered as the two other women who voted to stay slowly walked up to join the quiet altercation. 

“You’ll never win,” the woman said, the fork leaving Y/N’s neck. “We may be outnumbered but you have more elders on yours, one punch to the head and they’ll be out cold.”

As Y/N glanced around at the other women in the bathroom, she noticed that most of them were older and looked as if they could not handle themselves in a fight. Y/N sighed. “Do you really care about getting a bit of extra money? If we vote to leave now we still each get a large amount of money. What if you die in the next game? Your last thoughts will be ‘why didn’t I leave when I had the chance?’”

“You don’t know a thing about me!” the woman exclaimed. 

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned back to the sink. “I know that you’re an idiot if you chose to stay in this hellhole.”

The woman didn’t respond verbally. Instead she gripped the back of Y/N’s jacket, yanking her away from the sink. As Y/N stumbled on her feet, the woman sent a punch to her jaw, knocking off her balance completely. 

The moment Y/N’s back hit the floor, hell broke loose as people began fighting one another. It was just as the woman said, there were a lot more women who were physically weaker on Y/N’s side. Almost immediately Y/N watched as a few of them had already hit the floor, a pool of blood forming below them. Y/N didn’t take long to get back to her feet. Y/N wasn’t a particular skilled fighter, she had learnt basic self defense and had never had a reason to use it. Just as Y/N thought, the woman was physically weaker than Y/N as she easily overpowered the woman, gripping tightly onto her hair. 

“Just vote to leave!” Y/N yelled. “How stupid can fifty people be?”

The woman struggled to get out of Y/N’s grip. “I’ll vote to leave when all of you are dead!” she snapped. 

Y/N held tightly onto the woman’s hair as she threw her down on the floor. Before Y/N could think, she grabbed the fork concealed in her pocket and jammed it into the woman’s shoulder. The woman’s eyes widened as she cried out in pain. Y/N yanked the fork out and stood to her feet. There were still others fighting around her yet all she could do was stare down at the woman on the floor. Y/N hadn’t killed her, only injured her, yet she still felt the guilt of that weigh heavily on her shoulders. 

Before Y/N could even think about moving there was a force that sent her to the ground and she scrambled to get away before a force was pressed upon her body and she was harshly turned on her back. A more muscular woman sent a punch to her face before Y/N even had the chance to block it. With her vision blurry, Y/N failed to see the fork slamming down at full force towards her. 

***

Dae-ho sat looking in the direction where Y/N had left with the other woman to go to the bathroom anxiously shaking his leg. There was something clawing inside of him that told him that something bad was going to happen. Of course he had noticed the forks everyone had been given and Gi-hun had only solidified Dae-ho’s beliefs that it wasn’t unintentional. 

Y/N had been gone for a while and it took Jung-bae forcing Dae-ho to remain seated instead of storming after her. 

“I never asked,” Jung-bae spoke, noticing that Dae-ho became considerably more anxious, “how do you know Y/N?”

“We work together,” Dae-ho answered, not tearing his eyes from where she had disappeared. “It’s a shitty part time job but that's all that would hire me. I don’t know why she is still there– she has so much potential.”

Jung-bae hummed. “It seems as if you admire Y/N a lot.”

“I do,” Dae-ho said with no hesitation. “Before now, we only ever spoke at work, but she was always so nice and friendly to me. I watched her interact with customers too and she always greets them with a smile and tries to make them smile. Afterwards I would always find her in the break room exhausted but she would always sit and talk to me if I was on my break. Once she shared that she wished to become an artist but her parents told her that it wasn’t a sustainable career so she gave up.”

“It sounds like a lot more than admiration you have for her,” Jung-bae teased. 

Dae-ho quickly shook his head. “No, it's not anything like what you’re thinking of.”

“How about I ask Y/N when she comes back?” Jung-bae suggested. 

“No!” Dae-ho exclaimed, causing Jung-bae to laugh. Dae-ho sighed. “Okay, maybe it is like that.”

“The following players have been eliminated,” the cheerful voice sounded throughout the room. 

Dae-ho’s heart instantly dropped to the floor as he looked at Jung-bae, fear coursing through his veins. 

“Player 201. Player 449. Player 091–”

“That’s the player who went with Y/N,” Dae-ho said, fear evident in his tone. 

The players entered the room one by one and Dae-ho’s heart rate increased. From the looks of things, it wasn’t only the women who had gotten into a fight in the bathroom as the men walked out too, blood covering each and every one of them. The cheerful voice continued to list the numbers of the players who had been eliminated and Dae-ho’s fear rose after each and every one. He should have somehow gone with her to make sure that she was okay. 

The voice stopped listing off the eliminated players just as Y/N stepped into the room, the guard closing the door behind her. Blood covered her neck and stained her jacket. Smeared blood covered her hands too as she slowly stepped further into the room shaken up. 

“Count your players!” 

The room immediately broke into chaos as each side counted their players and how many each side lost. Dae-ho didn’t care as he ran over to Y/N. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” He asked, looking at the injury on her neck. 

“They attacked us,” Y/N muttered. “I didn’t want to hurt them but I did.”

Slowly, Dae-ho reached forward until he held his hands in front of hers. Without thought, she held onto them tightly as if grounding herself. 

“They attacked you first, you were only defending yourself,” Dae-ho reassured. 

Y/N slowly looked up at him. “I know but–”

“But nothing,” Dae-ho said, slowly pulling Y/N closer to where the rest of the group were standing.

Y/N nodded, squeezing his hands once more. “Can we sit down somewhere?”

Dae-ho gently guided her over to where Gi-hun and the others were sitting as someone counted how many of the whole group there was. Dae-ho gestured for Y/N to sit down first before he sat down next to her, his arm wrapping protectively around her waist, her body leaning closer to him. 

“What happened to your neck?” Dae-ho questioned looking at the long scratches down the back of her neck that ventured under her collar. 

“It happened just before the guards came in to break up the fight,” Y/N muttered, her hand seeking out Dae-ho’s. “If they didn’t come in that second, I’m sure that woman would have finished me off.”

Dae-ho noticed the distant look in her eyes and squeezed her hand to snap her out of it. “Hey, I know it’s hard but try not to think about that right now.”

“What else is there to think about?” Y/N replied, her voice sounding exhausted. 

Dae-ho shrugged, his thumb gliding across her knuckles. “Our job?”

“I nearly died and your response is to talk about our shitty job?” Y/N said. 

“You’re talking about it though,” Dae-ho muttered. “And I was going to ask you, what will you do when you get out of here? You can’t stay in that job for the rest of your life.”

“Pay off my debts,” Y/N answered. “After that, I honestly don’t know.”

“You wanted to become an artist, why don’t you start there?” Dae-ho suggested. 

Y/N looked at him, disbelief clear in her eyes. “You remember that conversation?”

“Of course,” Dae-ho replied. Y/N looked at him– really looked at him. The look immediately made Dae-ho heat up under his collar. 

“I didn’t think anyone really listened when I talked about what I am passionate about,” Y/N admitted. 

“I listened,” Dae-ho replied. 

“Why have we never spoken outside of work?” Y/N asked.

“Probably because we both hate our job and pretend that it doesn’t exist once our shift is over,” Dae-ho replied. 

A soft huff of laughter left Y/N and Dae-ho couldn’t stop the way his heart lifted at the sound. 

“That is true,” she said. “How about when we get out of here, we change that? This definitely isn’t the place or time to say this, but I have liked spending time with you and you have honestly saved me so many times and made this whole thing even the slightest bit bearable. So when we get out of here, why don’t we go for dinner? I’ll pay, it’s the least I can do.”

A wide grin formed on Dae-ho’s face as he nodded. “That would be nice.”

Y/N gave him a smile in return before she rested her head on his shoulder, relaxing her body into his side. The gentle grip he had on her waist tightened as he pulled her closer to his body. While Gi-hun spoke to the group in a hushed tone, Dae-ho only remained half listening as he held onto Y/N. A new sense of survival overcame him– he would get him and Y/N out no matter what. 

I actually need more hyuntak fics rn pls where is it

i am working on a request right now, but after that i wanted to write something based on the song gold rush by taylor swift. however i really don’t know who i should do, i could do neteyam sully or chad meeks martin. or i could do both (separate fics obv) idk i feel like it fits both of them, what do y’all think?

if you have any suggestions, feel free to comment <3

𝑭.𝑹.𝑰.𝑬.𝑵.𝑫.𝑺.‧₊˚✧ . ˚

𝐒𝐮-𝐇𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝟓.𝟑𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 | 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮-𝐇𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐢𝐭.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐀𝐔 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮-𝐇𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 (𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐬!) 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞.𝐈 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟓 + 𝟏 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐎𝐔𝐀𝐃 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧,𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐮-𝐇𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐨 𝐈’𝐦 𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐞 ♡

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷1. Ms. Park

“Su-Hyeok, what do you think of Nam-Ra’s interpretation?”

Class 2-5 all turn their heads to the back, trying—but failing—to suppress their laughter, awaiting what kind of nonsense would spew from Su-Hyeok’s mouth this time around.

“I agree. She’s 100% correct.”

Some giggles slip through before Ms. Park silences them by holding her hand up. “Great,” Ms. Park says sarcastically, with an air of teasing. “Now…just what do you agree with again?”

Su-Hyeok doesn’t even falter, replying with, “If she could be kind enough to repeat her response so that I can gather my thoughts more coherently….” The whole class loses it right then and there.

His seat-mate further rubs salt into the wound by whispering between bouts of laughter, “Yah, did you even have any thoughts to begin with?” This earns him a glare, but he was too far gone to care.

Su-Hyeok grimaces, seeing the disappointment on Ms. Park’s face mixed with amusement as she gestures for Nam-Ra to recite her previous statement again. With the amount of times he acts up in the same manner on a regular basis, he’s surprised and grateful that she still allows him to step foot into class for lessons.

Nam-Ra rises once more, her chair creaking slightly, though that doesn’t wake you up from your nap next to her. Currently, you were turned away from the window, left elbow flat on the desk surface as a makeshift pillow. “All of us have some sort of prejudice. We all have preconceptions about other people.”

“Precisely,” Ms. Park compliments. “Thank you, Nam-Ra, for saying that twice.” With her emphasis on the word, she fixes her stern gaze on Su-Hyeok, but her next words are the exact opposite. “Bare-Su, please pay more attention to my lesson during class time and less on staring at your girlfriend, Y/N.” She raises her eyebrows teasingly.

Su-Hyeok is quick to correct her, trying to suppress the heat he feels slowly making its way up to his face. “Ms. Park,” he says incredulously. “We’re not together.”

“Eyyy,” Dae-Su’s booming voice reverberates in the classroom. “Now you’re just making up lies.” You stir at the loud sound, but it’s still not enough to make you open your eyes.

“I’m serious, Dae-Su,” Su-Hyeok splutters.

“Yet you’re not denying having stared at Y/N~,” Wu-Jin drawls, giving Dae-Su’s awaiting hand a high-five with a resounding smack.

“You guys, cut it out already!” Su-Hyeok says exasperatedly to deaf ears. “Ms. Park, how come Y/N is taking a sound nap in class, but I’m the one being ganged up on?”

“This is the first time it has happened, and she’s still ranked 3rd in the class. I can afford to let it slide,” Ms. Park crosses her arms and smiles, entertained by Su-Hyeok’s excuses.

“Isn’t this blatant favoritism?” Su-Hyeok mumbles under his breath.

“You also favor Y/N, so you can’t be one to talk,” his seat-mate teases him for the second time that day.

“You’re not even on the baseball team so why are you so hell-bent on hitting home runs with your sassy remarks today, huh?” Su-Hyeok slaps him upside the head.

“Alright, alright, settle down class. I think that’s enough punishment for our Bare-Su today.” When Ms. Park turns back to the blackboard, she says loud enough for the class to hear, “No worries. We can just ask Y/N for confirmation when she’s up.” By how much the students were cracking up, it suddenly seems like a free period.

“Seonsaengnim!”

At Su-Hyeok’s outburst, you wake up, trying to settle back into reality. Of course, Ms. Park notices your state of rousing. She’s not one to miss any little detail.

“Ah, good morning to you, Y/N. So glad you can finally join us.” Her words hold no malice at all, but you’re still sheepish.

Shyly scratching you head, you voice out, “I apologize for dozing off. Did I miss anything important?” You finally notice all eyes on you. Well, save for Su-Hyeok’s. “Guys….? Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Well—" Dae-Su begins but is cut off by Ms. Park.

“Please refrain from sleeping again in my class as it’s a distraction…to some more than others.”

Laughter rings loud and clear again, all directed towards Su-Hyeok as you turn to Nam-Ra for answers in bewilderment.

“Banjang, you’re the smartest one here. What’s going on?”

Nam-Ra spares a glance at you with a slight smirk, an expression you’ve never seen on her before, despite how much she’s warmed up to you as her seat-mate and friend, though she’s hesitant to admit to the latter.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Nam-Ra says dismissively, but lightly. “Ms. Park was just teaching Su-Hyeok about preconceptions.”

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷2. On-Jo

Linking your arm through Nam-Ra’s while balancing your tray with your other hand, you pull her in the direction of where On-Jo and I-Sak were already seated with their own lunches piled high with food.

“Save some for the rest of us, On-Jo,” you joke as you and Nam-Ra sit down on the opposite bench, pointing to your friend’s tray.

“Ha ha, very funny,” On-Jo pouts. “I don’t eat a lot; I just eat well.”

“A little too well,” Nam-Ra chimes in, causing you to choke on your banana milk in laughter and surprise. Since Nam-Ra started opening up to your friend group, you can already see the influence it’s had on her. Her conversations may still be minimal, but boy do they pack a punch.

While you all wait for the rowdy boys to join, I-Sak mimes pulling you, Nam-Ra, and On-Jo into a huddle and whispers, “So, have you guys thought about who’s asking who to the spring formal in a few months?” Here, she raises her eyebrows and adds, “Better yet, who are you hoping will ask you?”

“Aish,” you rebuke. “I thought you were about to spill your biggest secret or something!”

“Hey, I’m just curious! Not all of us are set and ready like you are, Y/N!” I-Sak winks at you as you’re in the middle of chewing.

You finish your bite before replying, “Huh?”

“Well, you and Su-Hyeok are already dating, so isn’t it obvious you’ll be attending together?” On-Jo answers.

Flabbergasted, you retort, “But we’re not in a relationship. I thought that was what’s obvious.” Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.

“Tsk, since when did you become so good at lying, our sweet and innocent Y/N?” I-Sak pokes you with the clean end of her chopstick.

“There’s nothing going on between us,” you emphasize. “I’ve known him since we were babies, and he definitely doesn’t like me in that way. I know that for a fact!” You point from Nam-Ra, to On-Jo, and finally to I-Sak. “Not one more word from you guys, alright?”

Nam-Ra slurps a spoonful of her seaweed soup loudly.

You turn to her and narrow your eyes. “Now, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you said not one more word,” Nam-Ra says without missing a beat. “That was a sound.”

You could never win against Nam-Ra verbally. “Don’t tell me you agree with On-Jo and I-Sak,” you say while facepalming. “Look guys, he’s really sweet, kind, caring, brave…” Realizing you’re rambling when the girls give you a look, you blush and backpedal. “What I mean,” you say as you fix them all with a gaze of finality, “is that it’d be weird. We grew up together, and we fight all the time.”

“I like to call that lover’s quarrel,” On-Jo states.

You roll your eyes and throw a clean crumpled napkin at her, which she manages to dodge.

“I also forgot nice smile, athletic, handsome—" I-Sak mimics your voice. You know it’s bad how spot-on it is when even Nam-Ra laughs.

“Yah! Do you want to die?”

On-Jo protects I-Sak from your slaps to her arm. “Just admit that you like—" On-Jo is interrupted by a voice you know all too well.

“Like what?” Su-Hyeok asks, oblivious, as he plops down next to you, nudging your shoulder with his out of habit as the boys fill in the rest of the bench, focused on their own conversations.

“Yeah, Y/N, what were you going to say?” I-Sak prods, smiling wider than you thought humanly possible.

You plead with your eyes to Nam-Ra for help, but she’s just the same as the other two, fixing you with a mischievous grin. Su-Hyeok looks at you expectantly, waiting for an answer.

“Uh…I was just saying that I like,” you stall as you look around for a way out. Your gaze lands on a drink everyone has on their tray. “The banana milk!” You cringe as the words leave your mouth.

“Oh, in that case,” Su-Hyeok hands over his bottle to you. “Here, you can have mine.”

As he turns to his right to talk to Cheong-San, I-Sak flashes you a heart with her fingers discreetly, Nam-Ra elbows you in the arm playfully, and On-Jo—you’re going to get her big time for this.

Before Su-Hyeok is finished with his conversation and turns back to you, she mouths, “I love oo yoo.”

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷3. Cheong-San

You have no idea why your friends decided to play soccer during lunch when it was scorching hot out, especially a day before exams, but followed nonetheless. On-Jo and I-Sak opted out and were currently benched, acting as cheerleaders. You, however, got dragged into the game as Nam-Ra was the referee and she didn’t want to be the lone girl on the field.

The sun was starting to make you sweat, and you chalked it up to the heat beating down on your head for the sudden dizziness you were feeling. You shook your head and tried to focus on the game that was about to start.

Cheong-San was right next to you, and on the far end of the field you could see Su-Hyeok playing goalie. As Dae-Su kicked off signaling the first half, you began to stagger as your vision becomes unfocused. Just when Cheong-San is about to sprint off in the direction of the ball Dae-Su had kicked, you grab onto his arm, stopping him.

“Cheong-San, I don’t feel too good,” you say.

He steadies you by the shoulder and peers at your face. “Y/N, you’re looking a little more than just pale. Do you think you’ll be okay? Want to sit down for a minute with On-Jo and I-Sak?” You close your eyes as your head spins but manage to give a weak nod when he checks your forehead temperature with his hand.

“Hey! What’s going on over there?” Someone screams across the field, questioning.

As Cheong-San takes your wrist to lead you back to the girls, your vision goes black and the last thing you remember is someone catching you to break your fall.

***

On-Jo and I-Sak were the first ones to reach you as Cheong-San tries to sit you up. He gets you to somewhat lean on his chest, an arm around your shoulder as the girls crowd around to see what they could do to help.

“Is Y/N alright?” Not getting a response, Nam-Ra checks your pulse and breathing. “Her heartbeat is a little fast, one of the tell-tale signs of heat exhaustion. Perhaps that's the case?”

“I think we should take her to the nurse either way,” On-Jo says, I-Sak nodding in agreement.

“On-Jo, come with me,” Cheong-San directs, as he maneuvers you for a proper piggyback.

“Move,” Su-Hyeok says, seriously.

“It’s okay, I got her,” Cheong-San replies as On-Jo helps to stabilize you on his back.

“I wasn’t asking.” Su-Hyeok slightly pushes Cheong-San.

“Guys, this isn’t the time to fight,” Nam-Ra admonishes, pointing at your unconscious form.

Without another word, Su-Hyeok picks you up easily and carries you away, with Cheong-San and On-Jo in tow all the way to the infirmary.

Once there, On-Jo decided to go get some snacks since everyone skipped lunch, leaving the two boys behind with you after the nurse assessed your condition.

Cheong-San starts chuckling quietly as Su-Hyeok glares at him.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I don’t find the situation funny, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m worried for Y/N as well.”

Su-Hyeok narrows his eyes at Cheong-San. “Why?”

Dumbfounded, Cheong-San replies, “Why would you ask that? She’s a good friend. We grew up together too you know.”

When Su-Hyeok doesn’t respond, Cheong-San nudges him with his foot under the bed to which the former just makes an incoherent noise. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“I’m not jealous at all that you caught Y/N before she fainted.”

“I never mentioned that,” Cheong-San says between laughs, dimple on full display. “Would you rather I had dropped her to the ground? I don’t know why you would be mad when I was just lending a hand, and considering that you guys are dating and all…” he trails off.

“We’re not dating,” Su-Hyeok says flatly.

“Stop messing around with me Bare-Su,” Cheong-San teases, tilting his head in the direction of your small hands that Su-Hyeok was currently enveloping in his large ones.

“You idiot, I’m not kidding. We’re just friends; that’s all.” He doesn’t let go of your hands. If anything, he cradles them even tighter.

Cheong-San pauses, thinking whether to believe him or not. “Okay, hypothetically let’s say you guys aren’t together—"

“—Because we’re not,” Su-Hyeok interrupts.

“Hypothetically,” Cheong-San stresses. “Then, do you like Y/N?”

“Then, do you like On-Jo?”

“I asked first!”

“I—"

When you open your eyes, you’re met with a white ceiling and curtains, the sound of the machine displaying your vitals beeping away. Recognizing that you were in the school’s infirmary due to the IV drip and the strong smell of antiseptic, the only thing you remembered was fainting. Everything after is a blur.

You hear hushed whispers and realize it was Su-Hyeok and Cheong-San in the room with you. “What are you two idiots arguing about this time?” You rasp. Their heads whip towards you, shocked and simultaneously relieved.

“How much of our conversation did you hear?”

“That’s the first thing you ask me? I don’t even get a ‘how are you’?” You fake mock hurt at Su-Hyeok’s question.

“Are you okay?” Cheong-San asks.

“I like Cheong-San better,” you joke and stick your tongue out at Su-Hyeok as Cheong-San does the same.

“We were worried sick but I guess you’re fine now that you’re back to bullying me,” Su-Hyeok complains. “So feisty for such a tiny human.”

“Easy for you to carry,” Cheong-San mutters, earning a kick from Su-Hyeok. “OUCH!” He exclaims as he begins to rub his shin from the impact.

You look between the two of them, more confused than ever but decide to let it go. “Why am I here again? I only know I passed out.”

Su-Hyeok flicks you on the forehead. “The nurse said you were dehydrated and it seemed like you didn’t eat or sleep well enough. Coupled with the heat exhaustion, your already tired body couldn’t handle it and you went down.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? Is that all you can say? You scared me to death. You stayed up late studying again huh?”

“Maybe…” You reply guiltily. The boys shake their heads at your predictable nature. You always study like crazy but this has never happened before, so you were going to make sure to not accidentally neglect self-care for good grades again. “How did I get here from the field?”

“Cheong-San caught you and—"

“Awww, you did?” You sit up and spread your arms for a hug, having to let go of Su-Hyeok’s hands to do so. Cheong-San was going to return it until he turned to Su-Hyeok for permission.

“Why do you need to ask whether he’d allow it?” You roll your eyes. “My arms are getting tired.” You pull Cheong-San in for a hug and he returns the friendly gesture.

Just then, the door opens and On-Jo comes in with a plastic bag full of goodies. “Y/N, you’re awake!” She rushes over to squeeze the life out of you.

“On-Jo…can’t breathe,” you say in between pauses.

She lets you go and elbows Cheong-San. When he doesn’t get the hint, she takes him by the hand and drags him out, leaving the bag behind on the table for you. Just before the door closes, Cheong-San pops his head in again. “Su-Hyeok carried you in his arms all the way here!”

“AISH!” Su-Hyeok throws his backpack at the door, but the two had already left.

You turn to Su-Hyeok who won’t meet your gaze. Poking his arm, you tease him. “So, you do care.” If you had been awake at the time, surely you would be a living tomato with the stares you know for a fact you would be getting from being transported that way across school grounds.

Su-Hyeok just breathes out exasperatedly. “More than you know.” He said the line so quietly, you would’ve missed it if you weren’t paying attention.

Not knowing what came over you, you lean over and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you,” you say. Both of you were surprised with matching blushes as proof.

Too embarrassed now for having been so bold, you make the excuse of feeling tired and lay down, turning your head to the other side to hide your smile. Su-Hyeok grabs your hand again even as you close your eyes.

His phone dings with a text and you hear him curse under his breath. “That little—“

Which could only mean one thing: Cheong-San.

[ Text: Are you sure you’re not dating? I saw everything through the window ]

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷4. Gyeong-Su

You’re walking along the school’s skybridge when you hear someone calling.

“Y/N! Wait up!”

You stop and turn around, smiling when you see it’s Gyeong-Su. He’s such a sweetheart that your friend group always has a soft spot reserved for him.

He pants as he comes to a stop next to you, falling into pace by your side. “Geez, for someone with such short legs, you walk incredibly fast.”

“Is that all you wanted to say to me?” You push him.

Gyeong-Su laughs. “No, no. I’m just kidding. I have a favor to ask.”

“Glad to know you start asking for favors by first insulting the person.”

“I’m sorry okay!” He didn’t look sorry at all. “I need help with English. If I fail this next exam, I’d have to retake the class and the teacher and I already don’t get along,” he frowns.

“I’m not saying that I decline, but wouldn’t Nam-Ra be a better choice?”

“Sure, but she hasn’t studied abroad. You lived in New York for a year before high school.”

“Alright, but if your English has the accent of a New Yorker, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Better an accent than the Konglish I’m speaking with in class. Everyone always laughs when I have to read something.”

You giggle. “I can meet you in the library after our last class period. It’s a Friday anyway so we don’t have school tomorrow, which means we can stay a little later than usual. Does that work for you?”

“Yes! Thank you so much, Y/N.” Gyeong-Su looked so happy it was contagious. His smile suddenly falters as he leans in to tell you, “Although, I hope that you won’t let Su-Hyeok know.”

“What? What does he have to do anything?”

Gyeong-Su looks at you like you had two heads growing from your neck, gazing pointedly. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t want him to be mad that I’m spending time with you. He’d beat me up. It’s clear which of us would win in a fight, come on now.”

“Why would he be mad?” You inquire, baffled.

“You know, for ranking third place in class, you’re not as bright as I thought.”

“Watch it,” you warn, playfully angry.

“You’re supposed to be tutoring me for language skills but here I am, having to spell everything out for you.” Gyeong-Su gives you a moment to see if you would figure it out but when he sees the gears turning in your head, he sighs. “Su-Hyeok might get jealous and I don’t want that. You know, protective boyfriend and all. The what-have-you’s from all those dramas.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you say as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which to you it certainly was.

“Whatever you say. If you see me one day with a black eye and a broken leg, you’re going to be held responsible for my hospital bills.”

You roll your eyes as Gyeong-Su waves and goes on his way, promising to meet up later.

***

A few hours pass and you find a seat in the corner of the library where it’s more silent and there’s a window nook in between two bookshelves against the wall; it was your favorite study spot aside from your bedroom.

Gyeong-Su is more punctual than you imagined, showing up barely a few minutes after you with all his study materials. At the moment, his backpack could be used as a weapon with everything he packed inside.

“Are you sure you’re here to study, or are you preparing for war?” You stare in amazement as he pulls endless amounts of materials from his bag.

“I wasn’t kidding about not wanting to repeat class.” An English textbook comes slamming onto the table and you shush him hurriedly. Thankfully, the other students are too busy studying with their headphones in to mind the noise.

“We can work on spelling first,” you guide as you flip through his workbook.

You’re surprised at how fast Gyeong-Su learns after just a few units, and even more proud at the effort he puts into grasping the subject. Perhaps you could finally understand why teachers always glow when their students succeed.

“Wow, would you look at that. I’m a great tutor,” you boast.

“Your ego is pretty great too.”

You hit him on the head with a pencil but he just laughs it off. Your phone keeps vibrating with messages, so not wanting it to be a distraction, you put it on ‘do not disturb’ mode without checking the notifications on screen and proceed to place it upside down on the table.

Both you and Gyeong-Su are too focused on your studies to notice Su-Hyeok coming into the library.

“Y/N, did you lose your phone?”

You look up, even more surprised than Gyeong-Su at his presence. “How did you know we were here?”

“You didn’t tell him? Wow, I’ll remember that the next time I have a secret I need you to keep,” Gyeong-Su says, fascinated.

“I waited an hour for you at the school gates to walk home together, but you never showed up so I texted Cheong-San and he said you were tutoring Gyeong-Su in the library.”

“Oh my god, I totally forgot.” You put your hand on your head. Su-Hyeok would always walk you home as you two live in the same area, neighbors to be exact. “I’m so sorry you had to wait that long. It totally slipped my mind!” He didn’t look mad, just tired. “You can go home without me you know. I wouldn’t want you to wait even longer. I still have a few chapters left to help Gyeong-Su with.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not letting you go by yourself in the dark. A few more hours is nothing.” Before you can refuse, he dumps his backpack on the floor and scoots the adjacent chair closer to yours, sits down, and leans his head on your shoulder. “Wake me up when you’re done.”

He’s out cold in a few minutes, and you can only blame it on sleep deprivation; the badge every high school student wears proudly.

“Now that the boyfriend is sleeping and won’t fight me—“

“How many times do I have to tell you, Gyeong-Su? We’re not dating.”

“Sure, because that’s totally what friends do,” he says sarcastically.

As he goes back to his notes, you look down at Su-Hyeok leaning on you, moving his hair out of his eyes carefully so as not to wake him. Were his eyelashes always that long? His nose bridge so high? His skin so clear? His lips—

“Earth to Y/N,” Gyeong-Su waves his hand in your face. “You guys sure have a thing for staring at the other when they’re asleep. You know, it’s the same look on your faces too.”

“What? We don’t do that.”

“First, he gets caught by the whole class and now you get caught by me. You’re lucky it’s just one person who’s seeing this.”

You brush aside the first thing Gyeong-Su says, because Su-Hyeok having feelings for you? Impossible.

“I wasn’t staring!” That draws the attention of a few students nearby.

“Fine, admiring tastefully then.”

You look down at Su-Hyeok again. “You have to admit, it’s pretty endearing seeing someone sleep.”

Gyeong-Su snorts. “You’re just saying that because it’s Su-Hyeok. If it was me, you would’ve already sent me flying clear across the room with a kick.”

Not really being able to argue with that, you ignore it and turn back to give Gyeong-Su another exercise when Su-Hyeok stirs. “Next, can you describe us all with one word and spell it correctly?”

He ponders for a moment before pointing to himself: “Amazing.” A-M-A-Z-I-N-G is the first line on his notebook.

Next, he points to Su-Hyeok: “Barefoot.” You laugh at the accuracy while Su-Hyeok curses Gyeong-Su. It’s even funnier seeing him write it down in all seriousness. B-A-R-E-F-O-O-T is the next line.

A pencil aims at your face as Gyeong-Su mocks: “Gnome.”

“You’re getting awfully comfortable with the short jokes there.” G-N-O-M-E goes down in the third line.

“She’s just petite,” Su-Hyeok tries to defend you, doing a horrible job at it.

“Great, she thinks you’re lovable and he thinks you’re cute.”

“You do?!” You and Su-Hyeok say to one another at the same time.

“The two of you aren’t fooling anyone with this ‘We’re not together’ thing. Here’s a word to describe both of you. Gyeong-Su scribbles something quickly down on the notepad in perfect English and holds it up sideways for you as he reads it out loud, gesturing with his pointer finger between you and Su-Hyeok:

┌──────────┐

ᑕOᑌᑭᒪE ♡

└──────────┘

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷5. Nam-Ra

No one ever comes to class early like she does, and so Nam-Ra is more than surprised to see Su-Hyeok of all people stepping foot into the room, the slide of the wooden door announcing his entrance. He jumps when he sees her already there.

“What is it?” Nam-Ra cuts to the chase.

“Uh…nothing,” Su-Hyeok stammers.

“Whatever’s in your hands doesn’t seem like nothing.”

He quickly hides the note behind his back.

Nam-Ra raises an eyebrow at this and taps your still-empty desk. “Go ahead and put it here. I’ll let Y/N know.”

“It’s not for her.”

“Su-Hyeok, you’re talking to me, not Dae-Su. I don’t believe that statement in the slightest.”

Su-Hyeok sighs as he walks over to your seat and sits down. “Prez, I need advice.”

“Hmm, what did On-Jo call it? Lover’s quarrel, was it? I’m not that experienced to be a love guru.”

“We’re not—"

“Cut it out. No matter how many times you guys deny it, it won’t make it true.”

“But—"

“Nope.” Seeing as he wasn’t going to say anything else, Nam-Ra smiles to herself. If she can keep this up, maybe they’ll actually stop dancing around one another. “Now, why are you here and not with Y/N like you usually are?”

“She’s mad at me.”

“I find that hard to believe, but explain.”

“Y/N has been avoiding me and I don’t know why. We were fine still during the study session with Gyeong-Su, but after that day she’s been keeping her distance. She flinches when I so much as sit near her, when I talk to her, she can’t look me in the eyes, and when we walk home together, she’s always speeding ahead. I think I might’ve done something wrong, but I also don’t think I have? That’s why I was planning to put this apology letter on her desk.”

Nam-Ra brushes her hand down her face at the absurdity of the situation. “You guys are hopeless.”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you telling me or asking me about whether you messed up?”

“Uh…both?”

“Gosh, you’re clueless.”

“I didn’t know advice came with being bashed.”

“Just answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to my following questions.” Nam-Ra receives a nod in response.

“Look, you haven’t done anything wrong right?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Does Y/N turn red when you’re near?”

“Yes, now that you mention it.”

“Is she becoming more flustered now when she never was before?”

“Also a yes to that question.” Su-Hyeok’s eyes widen and when Nam-Ra finally thinks he’s pieced it together, he hits her with the entire force of collective obliviousness in the world. “Oh no! Do you think she’s come down with something? Is she sick?”

“Aigoo!” She smacks him on the head with her workbook.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Focus!”

“I was until you gave me a concussion!”

“That’s not how that works—oh never mind! Just, think! I know it’s not something you usually tend to do, but try!”

“As long as you don’t hit me again.”

Nam-Ra ignores his previous words and continues. “Since you said you guys aren’t together I’ll believe it just for today.”

“There’s nothing to believe or not, we really don’t have that kind of a relationship.”

“But do you want to?”

“I don’t think she likes me like that—"

“Yes or no only.”

“Fine, yes. I can’t believe I’m telling you before I tell Y/N.” Su-Hyeok slumps in his seat.

“So, you like her.” Nam-Ra states it as is, no longer questioning.

“I can’t say no now after what I said earlier, so yes. I really do.”

“Then just go tell her. It’s not that hard. You’re making a simple thing more difficult than quantum mechanics.”

“Does Y/N even like me back for me to confess?”

“Yes. You’re a fool for not noticing it: the avoidance, the distance, the shyness. Any of that ring a bell?” She can pinpoint exactly when the realization hits him. “Everyone can see it except for the two of you. I’m shocked that it took me to smack some sense into you; literally and metaphorically.”

“I always thought that all friends were like us.”

“In what world? Friends don’t look at each other like that.”

Su-Hyeok springs up from his chair with a hasty thank you, promising to think it through before confessing, and rushes off to who knows where.

When he leaves, Nam-Ra sits alone pondering whether she should just change her last name to Cupid.

Cheong-San and On-Jo clearly need some arrows as well.

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷ +1

When Cheong-San’s mom invites the friend group to their chicken restaurant for a free meal, no one could decline.

You and Su-Hyeok come in a bit later after everyone had already started eating, hand-in-hand.

“There’s the cute couple!” Cheong-San’s mom exclaims, handing over the largest platter of fried chicken you’ve seen in your life.

“Mrs. Lee, they’re not—” everyone at the table choruses in unison, except for Nam-Ra.

“We are!” You say, holding up your clasped hands.

Dae-Su drops his chicken on the floor in shock and everyone’s mouths hang open comically in silence.

“Mwoya? Have you been fooling us all this time?” Your friends talk over one another, but the sentence is somehow comprehensible.

“Just ourselves,” Su-Hyeok admits, looking down at you fondly, only to see you already gazing up at him.

┈┈┈┈┈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.

writer’s block sucks

spiderman!ethan brain rot is real

I have the silliest thought but what if y/n gave Trent a starboy bracelet as a joke since everybody calls him that and she teases him about it 🤭

starboy — trent alexander-arnold ₊˚ෆ

zowa this is so cute !!!!! 🥺🥺🥺 i changed the concept a little bit but i absolutely loved writing this !!! it doesn’t really have as much teasing as i would like but lets just say they are very much in love!! | MAIN MASTERLIST

“Open it! Open it!”

Trent smiled when he saw you at the couch. “What’s going on?” He gave your forehead a soft peck before taking the little wrapped box from your hands and sat next to you.

He could tell that you could hardly contain your excitement, you were practically bouncing off the couch. “I got you a little surprise!”

Trent narrowed his eyes, taking in your optimistic behaviour suspiciously. He softly chuckled before tearing the wrapper open. Revealing a dainty black box and his suspicions only grew.

“Love, what’s this?”

You rolled your eyes, “Just open it, will ya.” smiling as you encouraged him to open the gift.

Trent opened the box and his eye’s immediately flew open. You started to fidget nervously with your fingers, waiting for his reaction.

Before you knew it you were already rambling, “It’s not much but I think you would like it so I customised one for you and—“

“Oh my god.” Trent breathed out, he carefully took the bracelet out of the box and examined it up close. He was in such awe of the jewellery, and in you, he was almost speechles. “You didn’t have to do this, love.”

You shrugged, “I wanted to.” planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Can you help me put it on?” Trent asked, albeit a little shyly, looking at you as if he was in a daze.

You beamed at him. “Of course.” you gently took the bracelet from his hands, trying to clasp it together.

All while you’re doing this, Trent was boring holes on to the side of your head with his intense gaze. He didn’t let his eyes drop down even when you said you were all done putting it on him.

“All done.”

You smiled at him, feeling your ego swell up when you read the ‘STARBOY’ sign as it shone under the lights. Yeah, you got him that and he’s wearing it and you think you might pass out if he doesn’t stop looking at you like that.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

Trent chuckled, and you hated how he sounded so smug, “Like what?”

You softly smacked his shoulder, “I don’t know. Like I bought you a fucking mansion with six sports cars.” you softly smacked his shoulder

“Feels like it.”

You meet his eyes, brown and wide, comforting and infatuated. “So I take it you like it?”

“I love it sweetheart.” he whispered, fingers trailing the engraved letters.

You giggled, the high pitched kind that you make when your crush finally looks at you and you weren’t shameful in the slightest bit.

“My starboy.” you muttered, dropping your head to his shoulders as your hands rested on top of Trent’s that was already on the bracelet.

He nudged you up, nuzzling his nose with yours before connecting your lips together, “Your starboy.”

reblog for a kiss <3

Hii! I hope you’re doing well!

Could you do reader fixing Baku’s bruises after he got in another fight with the union members, could it also be romantic?

Taking care of you

Pairings: Park Humin (Baku) x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a fight, you patch up Humin and a quiet kiss reveals what words never could.

Warnings: violence, injuries

A/N: Hii! Yess I’m doing good. I hope you like it 🫰🏻

The air was thick with heat and leftover adrenaline as Park Humin stood alone at the edge of the alleyway, his shirt collar torn, fists scraped raw, and blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

He didn’t look at the three guys groaning on the ground behind him, Union members, the usual type that thought they could outnumber him and win.

They didn’t.

But they did a hell of a job trying.

Humin exhaled slowly, like his breath was trying to keep him upright. His jaw clenched as he rolled his shoulders back and stepped into the weak glow of a flickering streetlight, head bowed slightly. His knuckles were red and cracked, a cut just beneath his eye swelling into a bruise already turning a violent shade of purple.

And then he saw you.

You had been searching for him ever since you heard whispers in the school hallway, something about Humin getting into it again. Another fight. More Union dogs barking up the wrong tree.

“Park Humin,” you breathed, and the name came out sharper than you intended.

He flinched a little at your voice, not because he was scared, he never was but because of the disappointment laced in it.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, trying to walk past you.

“Too bad,” you snapped, stepping in front of him. “I came anyway.”

His gaze dropped, his lashes low over his dark, unreadable eyes. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” You grabbed his wrist and yanked it gently. “Come on. You’re bleeding.”

He hesitated. “It’s not—”

“Now, Baku.” The nickname rolled off your tongue like a scolding mixed with concern.

He sighed through his nose but followed you. Maybe it was the weariness settling in, or maybe he knew there was no point arguing when you looked at him like that.. like he wasn’t just a fighter, or a problem, or a bruised set of fists, but something worth being worried about.

He sat on the edge of your bed, hands resting on his thighs, bloodied knuckles twitching now and then. You knelt in front of him with the first aid kit cracked open between you.

You dipped a cotton pad in antiseptic and reached for his face.

“Hold still,” you murmured.

He didn’t move, but his eyes locked on yours. There was something in them that you couldn’t quite name, tiredness, maybe. Regret.

You dabbed carefully at the cut below his eye. He hissed, jaw tightening.

“Still think you’re fine?” you asked, voice quieter now.

He didn’t answer.

You worked in silence for a while. His skin was warm under your fingertips, even bruised and battered. You tried not to notice the way he watched you, or how the dim light made his features look softer, vulnerable in a way he rarely allowed himself to be.

“You didn’t have to fight them,” you said finally.

His lips twitched, almost a smirk. “They started it.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to finish it every time.”

“I’m not letting them get away with shit.” His voice was low, raw. “Not after what they’ve done to us. To the others.”

You knew what he meant. The Union had left more than bruises on everyone. You, Sieun, Gotak even Juntae none of you were untouched. But Baku… Baku took it personally. Every threat, every insult, every blow, it fueled something in him that wouldn’t rest.

Your fingers hovered over a bruise along his cheekbone. You hesitated, and then finally whispered, “I just don’t want to see you like this again.”

His gaze dropped to your lips. “I know.”

You finished wrapping his knuckles and leaned back, resting on your knees. “There. You’re patched up.”

He looked down at your hands, still hovering near his. Then, slowly, he laced his fingers through yours.

Your breath caught.

He didn’t say anything, not right away. The silence stretched, thick with something that had been building for a while. Unspoken things. Careful glances. Unnecessary risks taken just to protect each other.

“Hey,” he said quietly, thumb brushing your knuckles. “You know I wouldn’t lose, right?”

“That’s not what I’m afraid of,” you murmured.

He tilted your chin up with one finger, his touch impossibly gentle for someone so often wrapped in violence. “Then what?”

You looked at him, really looked at him. At the pain behind his smirk, the bruises trying to heal, the boy who fought everyone else so hard he forgot how not to fight himself.

“That one day you won’t come back.”

The tension broke like glass. He pulled you close, not with force, but with the kind of need that had been waiting for permission. His forehead touched yours, his breath warm against your lips.

“I’ll always come back to you,” he said.

And then he kissed you.

It was slow at first, almost cautious like he was afraid he’d break you too. But you didn’t pull away. Your hands found his jaw, rough and warm beneath your palms, and he deepened the kiss, tilting your head just so.

It wasn’t a fairytale moment. His lip was split. Your hands trembled. There was blood on his shirt.

But it was real.

When you finally pulled back, both of you breathing a little harder, he rested his forehead against yours again and let the silence speak for him.

You didn’t need him to say the words yet. They were in the way he kissed you like you were the only safe thing in his world. The way he let you clean his wounds. The way he looked at you like you made the fight worth it.

“Stay,” you whispered.

He smiled faintly, eyes closing. “Always.”