#it would be even nicer if i could direct this energy into ANYthing other than. than. no i shan't say

[varjopeura]

.

[thequeenofneverland1]

Hwang In-ho/Frontman////secrets in the Dark

Anonymous request: could I request where the players thinks that you and Young-il are enemies, but in reality you and him are married

Warnings, Violence, Death, Psychological Tension, Manipulation and Betrayal, Conflict and Arguments, Survival Situations, Trauma, Emotions Distress, Isolation, Morally Ambiguous choices

The players were sitting on ground, some sitting in small groups, others keeping to themselves and You, Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Dae-ho, and Jun-hee were sitting together, engaged in a lively conversation. The group had been discussing something animatedly, laughing at jokes and tossing opinions back and forth. The energy was good, a natural flow that had everyone feeling at ease. Gi-hun had just finished making a joke when Young-il suddenly walked up, inserting himself into the circle without much hesitation. His interruption was abrupt, cutting through the thread of what someone was saying. You turned toward him, caught off guard by the interruption.

“Uh, excuse me, Young-il, but we’re in the middle of something here,” you said, your tone sharper than you intended, but the words were already out. There was a brief, charged silence as everyone processed the shift in mood. Young-il’s face tightened, and it was clear he was about to respond. Maybe a retort, maybe an explanation and his lips parted, but before he could say anything, Dae-ho cut in.

“Yeah, she’s right,” Dae-ho said, his tone calm but firm. He leaned slightly forward as if to emphasize his point. “We didn’t invite you into this conversation.” His words hung in the air, direct but not aggressive. The way he said it made it clear that it wasn’t personal, just a boundary.

Jun-hee glanced between you and Young-il, looking uncomfortable but not saying anything. Jung-bae shifted his weight slightly, crossing his arms, while Gi-hun avoided eye contact altogether, clearly trying to avoid getting involved.

Young-il’s expression hardened further, his eyes flicking to each person in the group as though weighing whether to push back or leave it alone. For a moment, it looked like he might say something else, but instead, he scoffed under his breath.

“Fine,” Young-il said, stepping back with an exaggerated shrug. “Didn’t realize this was some exclusive club or whatever.” He turned on his heel and walked away, his frustration evident in the stiff set of his shoulders.

The group watched him go, the air thick with an awkward tension. After a beat, Jun-hee sighed. “That was… a bit much,” she murmured, her voice soft.

“Maybe,” Dae-ho replied, running a hand through his hair, “but he really shouldn’t have just barged in like that.”

“Still,” Gi-hun added hesitantly, “it probably could’ve been handled a little… nicer.”

Everyone looked at you, waiting to see if you’d say anything else. The moment lingered, the silence a little too loud, before someone finally steered the conversation back to something else. But the mood had shifted, and it would take some time to ease back into the easy rhythm the group had before Young-il showed up.

The group had settled on the ground, forming a loose circle as you ate together. The atmosphere had lightened considerably since earlier, and laughter rippled through the group. Dae-ho was in the middle of telling a story about something ridiculous that happened back at home, and even the quieter ones like Jung-bae and Jun-hee were chiming in with jokes and reactions. It was comfortable just your group, relaxed and at ease. The food wasn’t much, but it was enough, and right now, that sense of camaraderie was more filling than the meal itself.

You were leaning back on your hands, half listening as Gi-hun tried to argue with Dae-ho over some small, inconsequential detail. Everyone was smiling, even you, when a shadow fell over the group.

You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Young-il stood there, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he glanced around, seemingly oblivious to the subtle shift in energy. Without a word, he crouched down and then sat near you, sliding into the space that was barely big enough to accommodate him.

You didn’t try to hide your reaction. With an exaggerated sigh, you rolled your eyes and turned your head slightly toward him, your voice dripping with annoyance as you spoke. “We didn’t invite you to come and sit with us, old man.” The words came out sharper than you’d intended again. but you weren’t about to backpedal. You glanced at him as you said it, your expression making it clear you weren’t joking.

The group went silent. Dae-ho’s eyes darted between you and Young-il, his usual easygoing demeanor faltering as he seemed unsure whether to jump in. Jun-hee looked down at her food, clearly uncomfortable, while Gi-hun raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Jung-bae simply chewed his food, his face blank, as if trying to stay out of whatever was about to happen.

Young-il froze for a moment, his jaw tightening as he looked at you. “Seriously?” he said, his tone somewhere between disbelief and irritation. He let out a short laugh, though there was no humor in it. “You really just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“You can’t help but barge in where you’re not wanted,” you shot back, sitting up straighter now. The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp, cutting through the fragile peace that had been holding the group together.

Dae-ho raised his hand, trying to diffuse the tension. “Hey, come on,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Let’s not turn this into a thing, all right? We’re just trying to eat.”

Young-il gave a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “Right. Because I’m the one turning this into a thing.” He stood up abruptly, brushing off his hands as he glanced around at the group. “Enjoy your meal, then,” he said curtly, before walking off, his back stiff with frustration.

The silence that followed was deafening. Nobody seemed to know what to say, and the easy camaraderie from before felt like a distant memory. Finally, Jun-hee broke the silence with a soft sigh. “You didn’t have to say it like that, you know,” she said, glancing at you cautiously.

You shrugged, reaching for another bite of food. “He wasn’t invited. Simple as that.”

Gi-hun shifted uncomfortably. “Still, it feels like this is getting… worse.”

Dae-ho leaned back on his hands, staring at the ground for a moment before speaking. “We’ve got bigger problems to deal with than this,” he said quietly, his tone unusually serious. “Let’s not waste energy fighting with each other.”

The group nodded, albeit reluctantly, and eventually the conversation picked up again. But the tension lingered, hanging over the circle like a cloud. Even as the group tried to move on, the encounter with Young-il left a mark, a reminder of how easily things could unravel.

The tension between you and Young-il had been building all day, and now it was on full display for everyone to see. The players were all gathered in the dormitory area, some sitting on the ground, others laying on the beds, each trying to make the best of the little time they had to rest before the next round. Conversations buzzed here and there, but the center of attention quickly shifted to you and Young-il as your voices began to rise.

“You’ve got a real attitude problem, you know that?” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet. He wasn’t looking directly at you, but it was clear who he was talking to.

The group immediately perked up, sensing the brewing argument. Gi-hun winced, glancing between the two of you, while Dae-ho muttered something under his breath that sounded like, “Here we go again.”

You scoffed, leaning forward and narrowing your eyes at him. “Oh, I have an attitude problem? Says the guy who can’t take a hint and leave people alone.”

Young-il turned to face you now, his expression sharp. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy acting like the queen of everything, people wouldn’t have a problem being around you.”

A few players sitting nearby started to murmur, exchanging amused glances. Gi-hun, who had been sitting quietly, watching the exchange with his usual laid-back demeanor, leaned forward slightly, a small smirk playing on his lips. Dae-ho and Jung-bae, meanwhile, were exchanging wide-eyed looks, caught between wanting to intervene and letting the argument run its course.

“Oh, give me a break,” you shot back. “The only reason people have a problem is because you keep sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. You can’t just walk into every conversation and expect people to welcome you with open arms.”

Young-il laughed, a bitter sound that only seemed to fuel the fire. “You’re unbelievable. You think everything revolves around you, don’t you? Newsflash: not everyone cares about what you think.”

Before you could respond, Jun-hee raised her hands in a weak attempt to intervene. “Okay, can we not do this right now? Seriously, this is getting old.”

But neither of you was listening. “At least I don’t go around acting like I know better than everyone else,” you snapped. “You think just because you’re older, you’re entitled to respect? Respect is earned.”

“Earning respect from you is like trying to squeeze water from a stone,” Young-il retorted. “You wouldn’t recognize decency if it hit you in the face.”

By now, nearly every player in the room had turned to watch the argument. Some looked uncomfortable, others entertained, while a few clearly enjoyed the spectacle. The tension was thick, but before either of you could say another word, someone broke the silence.

“You two really need to get a room,” one of the players called out, laughing. It was a guy from another group, leaning casually against the wall with a wide grin on his face. “Seriously, you argue like a married couple. I bet that if we weren’t all stuck in this hellhole, you two would probably get married.”

A wave of laughter rippled through the crowd, breaking the tension for everyone except you and Young-il. You froze, blinking in disbelief at the comment, while Young-il’s face twisted into a scowl.

“Married?” you repeated, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “With him? I’d rather die in the next game, thank you very much.”

“Oh, please,” Young-il shot back, rolling his eyes. “As if I’d ever even consider it. You’d drive me insane within a day.”

“That’s funny,” you said with a mocking smile. “Because you already drive me insane just by existing.”

The laughter in the room grew louder, and Gi-hun finally chimed in, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, let’s calm down before this turns into a full-blown lovers’ quarrel. We’ve got enough stress without adding romantic drama to the mix.”

Dae-ho smirked, leaning toward you and whispering just loud enough for everyone to hear, “You know, he’s got a point. You two do bicker like an old married couple.”

Jun-hee stifled a laugh, trying to maintain some level of composure, but her shoulders shook as she struggled to keep it in. “Maybe we should just leave them alone and let them work it out,” she teased, her voice light.

You groaned, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “Unbelievable. You’re all ridiculous.” Turning back to Young-il, you pointed a finger at him. “For the record, this ‘married couple’ nonsense is never happening. Ever.”

“Trust me,” Young-il said, shaking his head. “The feeling is mutual.”

The tension in the air was palpable as Gi-hun leaned back, casually throwing out his suggestion that Young-il should join the group. Gi-hun’s face was calm, almost too calm, as if he hadn’t just dropped a verbal bomb into the middle of your circle.

“Are you serious?” you said, your voice sharp with disbelief. “You want him in our group? After everything?”

Gi-hun shrugged, his usual easygoing demeanor infuriating in the moment. “Look, it’s not like we’re overflowing with allies here. Having one more person might help us later on. We’re all just trying to survive, right?”

You glared at him, your frustration boiling just below the surface. “Yeah, we’re trying to survive, not babysit someone who spends more time causing problems than being useful. Have you already forgotten what happened earlier?”

Before Gi-hun could respond, Young-il, who had been standing just on the edge of the circle, stepped forward with an arrogant smirk plastered across his face. “Well, it looks like I’m part of the group now,” he said, his tone smug as he glanced around at the others before turning his gaze to you. “Which means I’m allowed to talk. Guess you’ll have to get used to it.”

You stood up, not even trying to hide your irritation. “Don’t get too excited, old man,” you shot back, your voice cold and cutting. “Just because Gi-hun decided to take pity on you doesn’t mean I’m going to talk to you. And it definitely doesn’t mean you can butt into my conversations like you own the place. So stay out of my line, understand?”

Young-il raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your outburst. “You really think you can tell me what to do? Hate to break it to you, princess, but if I’m part of the group, I can sit wherever I want, talk whenever I want, and do whatever I want. You don’t get to make the rules.”

You took a step closer to him, your fists clenched at your sides. “You think this is a joke? This isn’t about rules. it’s about respect. Something you clearly don’t understand. If you want to stay in this group, fine, but don’t think for one second that I’ll put up with your crap. Step out of line, and you’re on your own.”

The rest of the group watched the exchange with a mix of amusement and unease. Dae-ho leaned back, his arms crossed as he glanced between you and Young-il. “Well, this is going to be fun,” he muttered under his breath, earning a stifled laugh from Jun-hee.

Gi-hun sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, can we all just calm down? Look, I get that this isn’t ideal, but we’re stuck in this situation together. The last thing we need is to turn on each other.”

“Tell that to him,” you said, jerking your thumb in Young-il’s direction.

Young-il smirked, his confidence unwavering. “Oh, I’m calm. She’s the one making a scene.”

You opened your mouth to fire back, but before you could, Jung-bae interjected. “Alright, enough,” he said, his tone firm. “We get it, you two can’t stand each other. But let’s be real none of us want to deal with this drama every time we sit down to eat and talk If you two can’t get along, then at least figure out how to ignore each other. The rest of us shouldn’t have to suffer because you two like to argue.”

You crossed your arms, still glaring at Young-il, but you knew Jung-bae had a point. With a frustrated sigh, you stepped back and sat down, though your eyes stayed locked on Young-il. “Fine. I’ll ignore him. But don’t blame me when he screws up.”

Young-il chuckled, taking a seat across from you with that same infuriating smirk. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make sure to stay out of your way. Wouldn’t want to ruin your perfect little world.”

You clenched your jaw but forced yourself to look away, focusing on your food instead. The tension lingered, but the group slowly began to settle back into their conversations, though it was clear the dynamic had shifted.

As the chatter resumed, Jun-hee leaned over and whispered, “You know, you’re going to have to deal with him eventually.”

You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath, “Not if I can help it.”

The group had finally settled into an uneasy rhythm, with conversations drifting back and forth among the players. You sat with your arms crossed, still stewing over the earlier argument with Young-il. Though most of the group had moved on, you couldn’t shake the irritation gnawing at you. Every time you glanced at him, sitting there like he belonged, that smug look on his face only made your blood boil more.

As the conversation shifted to the earlier games, you couldn’t help but notice how quiet Young-il was. He wasn’t chiming in or offering any insight, which was unusual considering how much he seemed to enjoy running his mouth. That’s when it hit you, like a puzzle piece finally clicking into place.

Hey, old man,” you said sharply, your voice cutting through the murmured chatter. “I’ve got a question for you.”

Young-il raised an eyebrow, leaning back with a smirk as if he already knew you were about to accuse him of something. “Oh, here we go,” he said, his tone mocking. “What now? Didn’t I already promise to stay out of your ‘line’?”

You ignored his sarcasm, narrowing your eyes at him. “Where were you during the first game?” you asked, your voice steady but pointed.

The group exchanged uneasy glances, their curiosity piqued. Even Dae-ho, who usually tried to stay out of conflicts, looked intrigued.

“What are you talking about?” Young-il replied, his expression turning defensive.

“You heard me,” you said, sitting up straighter. “Where were you during the first game? Because I don’t remember seeing you there. None of us do. You showed up out of nowhere during the second game, acting like you’d been here all along. So tell me any care to explain, old man?”

Young-il’s smirk disappeared, replaced by a hardened expression. He sat up slightly, clearly caught off guard by the question but trying not to show it. “What, you’ve been keeping tabs on everyone here?” he shot back. “I didn’t realize I needed to check in with you to exist.”

“Don’t dodge the question,” you snapped. “Everyone else here went through hell in that first game. We all barely survived. But you? You just magically appeared when the second game started, looking perfectly fine. So either you skipped the first game, or you’re hiding something.”

Jung-bae shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the others. “She’s kind of got a point,” he said softly, though he immediately regretted saying anything when Young-il shot him a look.

Dae-ho scratched the back of his neck, clearly torn between wanting to diffuse the situation and his own curiosity. “Yeah, now that you mention it… I don’t remember seeing you during the first game either,” he said carefully.

Gi-hun leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “So? What’s the deal, Young-il?” he asked, his voice calm but firm.

Young-il let out a sharp exhale, rubbing his temples as if trying to compose himself. “Look, I didn’t skip anything, all right?” he said, his voice defensive. “I was there. You probably just didn’t notice me because I wasn’t making a scene, unlike some people.”

“Convenient excuse,” you said, your tone dripping with skepticism. “But I don’t buy it. We would’ve noticed you, especially since you seem to love getting involved in things that don’t concern you.”

Young-il’s jaw tightened, his patience clearly wearing thin. “What do you want me to say? That I hid like a coward? Fine. That’s what I did. I stayed out of sight and out of trouble because I wasn’t about to risk my life for some stupid game.”

The group stared at him, the tension thickening as his words sank in.

“At least I’m still here,” Young-il continued, his voice rising slightly. “Maybe I didn’t charge in headfirst like the rest of you, but I survived. Isn’t that the point?”

You crossed your arms, your expression unimpressed. “Survived by hiding while the rest of us fought to stay alive. How noble of you.”

“Enough!” Gi-hun suddenly interjected, raising his voice. “We’re all here now, aren’t we? What’s the point of fighting about what already happened?”

Dae-ho sighed, nodding reluctantly. “He’s right. As much as I hate to admit it, arguing about the past won’t help us survive what’s coming next.”

You clenched your jaw, wanting to push further but realizing you weren’t going to get any more answers at least, not now. “Fine,” you muttered, leaning back and crossing your arms. “But don’t think this means I trust you.”

Young-il chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “The feeling’s mutual, kid,” he said, his voice low.

The group sat in uneasy silence, the earlier camaraderie completely dissolved. Even as the conversation moved on, the lingering suspicion between you and Young-il remained like a crack in the foundation of the group, threatening to break everything apart.

“The air in the group had grown heavy over the past few days. Ever since the argument about Young-il’s mysterious absence during the first game, the tension between you two had only worsened. It was like a storm cloud hovering above, threatening to unleash at any moment. Everyone else in the group was walking on eggshells, trying to avoid setting either of you off.

But today, it finally exploded.

The group was sitting on the floor and everyone was quietly going about their business some eating, some resting, others just staring off into space, lost in thought. You were seated with your arms crossed, trying to focus on the situation at hand, but your annoyance with Young-il was bubbling just beneath the surface.

It started small, like it always did. Young-il, who had been leaning against a wall, made an offhanded comment about the group’s decision-making.

“Maybe if we stopped wasting time arguing about every little thing, we’d actually get somewhere,” he said, his tone sharp.

You didn’t even look at him at first, but the irritation was immediate. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” you shot back, your voice laced with sarcasm. “The guy who spent the first game hiding like a coward suddenly has opinions about how we should do things.”

Young-il straightened up, his eyes narrowing as he turned to face you. “You’re still hung up on that?” he asked, his tone dripping with disbelief. “How many times do I have to say it? I’m still here, aren’t I? Unlike some of the people who didn’t make it.”

Your head snapped toward him now, glaring. “Don’t you dare talk about them like that,” you said, your voice low and dangerous. “They fought to survive. They didn’t hide in the shadows and hope someone else would do the dirty work for them.”

“And look where that got them,” Young-il snapped, his voice rising. “Dead. You act like you’re some kind of hero because you played along with their little games, but all it did was get people killed. I did what I had to do to survive. You can hate me all you want for it, but at least I’m still breathing.”

By now, the rest of the group had gone silent, their eyes darting nervously between the two of you. Gi-hun sighed heavily, already regretting that he hadn’t stepped in sooner.

“Okay, can we not do this again?” he said, raising his hands in a weak attempt to mediate. “We’re all tired, and this isn’t helping.”

But you weren’t listening. You stood up now, pointing a finger at Young-il as you stepped closer. “You don’t get to lecture me about survival,” you said, your voice rising with every word. “You’ve done nothing but leech off this group since you showed up. You don’t contribute, you don’t help, and the second things get tough, you’ll probably run and hide again.”

Young-il took a step toward you, his jaw clenched and his eyes blazing. “You think you’re better than me?” he shot back. “Because you bark orders and act like you’re in charge? Newsflash: no one here made you the leader. You’re just as scared as the rest of us, but instead of admitting it, you take it out on everyone else.”

“Scared?” you repeated, your voice practically a shout now. “I’m not scared I’m angry! Angry that someone like you has the nerve to act like you belong here when you’ve done nothing to earn it!”

Dae-ho, who had been sitting quietly, finally stood up, placing himself between you and Young-il. “All right, that’s enough,” he said firmly, his voice cutting through the heated exchange. “This isn’t going anywhere. You’re both just yelling for the sake of yelling.”

Young-il ignored him, his focus still on you. “You want to talk about earning things?” he said, his voice lower now but no less intense. “How about you start by earning some respect? You don’t know anything about me, but you’ve been running your mouth since the second we met. Maybe if you spent less time pointing fingers, you’d actually see that I’m trying to help.”

“Help?” you scoffed, stepping around Dae-ho to get closer to him. “You call criticizing everything we do and refusing to pull your weight ‘help’? You’re nothing but dead weight, old man. And we’d be better off without you.”

Young-il’s expression hardened, his fists clenching at his sides. “Say that again,” he said, his voice dangerously calm.

“I said, we’d be better off without—”

“Enough!” Jun-hee’s voice cut through the chaos like a whip. She stood now, her small frame trembling slightly as she glared at both of you. “This is insane. We’re supposed to be working together, and all you two do is fight. If you hate each other so much, fine, but save it for when we’re out of here. Because right now, you’re putting all of us in danger.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, no one said anything. You and Young-il were still glaring at each other, but Jun-hee’s outburst had at least forced a pause.

Gi-hun sighed again, running a hand through his hair. “She’s right,” he said wearily. “We don’t have time for this. Save your grudges for later, or we’re all going to end up dead.”

You took a step back, your breathing still heavy, but you didn’t say anything else. Young-il relaxed slightly too, though his eyes were still locked on yours.

“This isn’t over,” you muttered, turning away and sitting back down.

“Not by a long shot,” Young-il replied, his voice cold.

The group remained tense after that, the silence almost suffocating. And even though the fight had ended for now, everyone knew it was only a matter of time before it flared up again.

After the chaos of the Mingle game, your group had grown. More players had joined, desperate for the safety of numbers, and while it was a relief to have more hands, the weight of the competition hung heavy over everyone’s heads. Trust was still a rare commodity, and tensions simmered just beneath the surface.

You and Jung-bae sat off to the side, away from the main group. The others were busy eating, tending to injuries, or silently staring into the distance, too drained to speak. The two of you had started talking quietly, reflecting on how brutal things had become, when Jung-bae suddenly grew quiet.

You noticed the shift immediately. His usual composed expression faltered, replaced by a troubled look. He rubbed his hands together, glancing over at Young-il, who was sitting on the far side of the group, talking to Gi-hun.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, leaning closer.

Jung-bae hesitated, his eyes flickering back to you. “There’s… something you should know,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

“About Young-il,” he said, his tone heavy. “Something I saw during the last game.”

Your body tensed at the mention of Young-il. After everything that had happened, you were already wary of him, but hearing Jung-bae bring him up with such a serious expression made your stomach knot. “Go on,” you urged.

Jung-bae took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he tried to collect his thoughts. “During the Mingle game,” he began, “when it got down to only two players in each room, it was me and Young-il. We managed to find a room just before time ran out.”

You nodded, motioning for him to continue.

“When we got inside, we saw another player already in there,” Jung-bae said, his voice dropping even lower. “Young-il told him to leave, said the room was ours now. But the player refused. He was desperate, just like the rest of us.”

Your brow furrowed as you listened, a sinking feeling settling in your chest.

“I didn’t think much of it at first,” Jung-bae continued, his expression darkening. “I shut the door quickly before any other players could get in. I figured we’d deal with the guy once we were safe, maybe try to reason with him or something. I turned my back to them for just a second… maybe less.”

He paused, swallowing hard. “Then I heard it a noise, like a sharp crack. When I turned around…” He trailed off, his eyes distant as if he was replaying the moment in his mind.

“What did you see?” you asked, though you already had a horrible feeling about what he was going to say.

Jung-bae looked at you, his voice shaking slightly. “I saw Young-il snapping that player’s neck.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stared at him, waiting for him to laugh, to say it was a bad joke, but his face was deadly serious.

“What?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“I froze,” Jung-bae admitted, his hands trembling slightly. “I didn’t know what to do. One second, the guy was alive, arguing with Young-il, and the next… he was just gone. Young-il didn’t even hesitate. He just… did it. Like it was nothing.”

You felt a cold chill run down your spine as you processed what Jung-bae was telling you. You glanced over at Young-il, who was still sitting with the others, laughing about something like nothing had happened.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you asked, your voice tight.

“What was I supposed to say?” Jung-bae shot back, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with frustration. “If I called him out, he could’ve turned on me next. And if I told anyone, how do you think they’d react? Everyone’s already on edge. You think they’d believe me, or worse, you think they’d just kill him outright and start turning on each other?”

You clenched your fists, your mind racing. “So what, we just let him get away with it? Pretend like nothing happened?”

Jung-bae sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I thought you should know. You and Gi-hun are the only people here that I trust to do something about it.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. Young-il had always rubbed you the wrong way, but this… this was something else entirely. You didn’t know whether to confront him, tell the group, or keep quiet and wait for the right moment.

“Thanks for telling me,” you said finally, your voice grim.

Jung-bae nodded, though he still looked uneasy. “Just… be careful,” he warned. “If he could do that to a stranger, who knows what he’d do to us if he felt cornered.”

You didn’t respond, your eyes fixed on Young-il as a sense of dread settled over you. Whatever trust or tolerance you’d managed to muster for him was gone. And now, more than ever, you knew he was a threat that couldn’t be ignored.

The group had gathered in a loose circle, with Gi-hun standing in the center, talking to a few players who had managed to survive the chaos of the Mingle game. Hyun-ju, Geum-ja, Gyeong-seok, Yong-sik, Myung-gi, and Min-su were all listening attentively as Gi-hun explained the group’s dynamics, how decisions were made, and the importance of sticking together.

You were seated off to the side, leaning against a wall, watching the scene unfold. It wasn’t often that Gi-hun took the lead like this, and you had to admit, he was doing a decent job of it. The players looked nervous but seemed reassured by his calm demeanor.

The moment was interrupted, however, when Young-il wandered over, his presence as unwelcome to you as ever. He strode into the circle without hesitation, his hands in his pockets, and looked around with a vaguely annoyed expression.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, his tone carrying that same irritating mix of mockery and authority that always grated on your nerves.

Before anyone else could respond, you rolled your eyes and sat up straighter. “Are you too blind to see, old man?” you said sharply, your voice cutting through the group like a whip.

Young-il turned to you, raising an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” he said, his tone challenging.

You ignored his feigned innocence, gesturing toward Gi-hun and the others. “Can you not see what’s happening? Or is your eyesight finally giving out on you?” you snapped. “Gi-hun is talking to them explaining things to the people who are about to join our group. Not that it’s any of your business.”

A few of the players exchanged uneasy glances, clearly unsure of how to react to the tension between you and Young-il. Gi-hun sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can we not start this right now?” he said, looking at you with a mix of exasperation and pleading.

“I’m not starting anything,” you said defensively, though your tone was still sharp. “I’m just pointing out the obvious. If Young-il had half a brain, he wouldn’t need to interrupt to figure out what’s going on.”

Young-il smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, I see what’s going on,��� he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re adding more people to the group. obviously more people to slow us down.”

The players bristled at his words, their faces falling as uncertainty crept in. Gi-hun frowned, stepping forward to address them. “Don’t listen to him,” he said firmly. “This group is about survival, and survival means sticking together. The more of us there are, the better chance we have of making it through this.”

“You really think that?” Young-il scoffed. “The more people we have, the more targets we become. And when things get tough, who’s going to take the fall? The players. They’re dead weight, and you know it.”

Your patience snapped. You stood up, glaring at Young-il with barely restrained anger. “Why don’t you just keep your opinions to yourself for once?” you said, your voice low but deadly. “These people are just as desperate to survive as the rest of us. They deserve a chance, and if you don’t like it, you’re free to leave.”

Young-il chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “I’ve made it this far, and I’m not about to throw it all away because you want to play babysitter.”

Gi-hun held up a hand, stepping between the two of you before the argument could escalate further. “Enough,” he said firmly, looking at both of you in turn. “We’re not doing this here. If you’ve got a problem with the group, Young-il, then take it up with me later. Right now, we’re focusing on keeping everyone alive, and that includes these new players. Got it?”

Young-il narrowed his eyes but didn’t argue further. He turned and walked away, muttering something under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch.

You let out a frustrated sigh, sitting back down and crossing your arms. Gi-hun gave you a look, part scolding, part understanding. “You didn’t have to go that hard on him,” he said quietly.

“Someone has to,” you muttered. “I’m not letting him scare these people off before they even get a chance.”

The players looked at you with a mix of gratitude and nervousness. Geum-ja, the boldest among them, stepped forward and gave you a small nod. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

You nodded back, though your eyes lingered on Young-il’s retreating figure. The tension in the group was getting worse, and you had a sinking feeling that things were only going to get harder from here.

The group sat in a loose circle around a small, makeshift campfire. The air was heavy with tension, the kind that had been brewing ever since Young-il joined the group. Everyone was still on edge after the Mingle game and the influx of players, and the constant bickering between you and Young-il had only made things worse.

Gi-hun, ever the reluctant leader, rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around at everyone. He had been trying to keep the group together, trying to keep the peace, but even he was starting to show signs of strain. Finally, he let out a long sigh, breaking the silence.

“All right, let’s just address the elephant in the room,” Gi-hun said, his voice firm but calm as he glanced between you and Young-il. “As you guys are all painfully aware by now, Y/N and Young-il don’t get along.”

A few of the players exchanged glances, while others shifted uncomfortably. Hyun-ju, who had been quietly sitting near the edge of the group, raised her eyebrows but said nothing. Geum-ja crossed her arms, her expression cautious, while Jung-bae looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here.

You rolled your eyes, leaning back against a crate. “Oh, come on, Gi-hun,” you said, your tone sharp. “That’s putting it mildly. I can’t stand him, and for good reason.”

Young-il, who was seated across from you with his usual air of indifference, let out a low chuckle. “The feeling’s mutual,” he said, smirking. “But at least I don’t make it my life’s mission to announce it every five minutes.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you sat forward, ready to fire back, but Gi-hun held up his hand to stop you. “Enough,” he said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. The two of you are constantly at each other’s throats, and it’s making things harder for everyone else.”

Geum-ja cleared her throat, speaking up hesitantly. “It’s… definitely been a little uncomfortable,” she admitted. “I mean, we just got here, and it feels like we walked into the middle of a war.”

“Uncomfortable?” Yong-sik muttered under his breath, earning a glare from Geum-ja.

“Look,” Gi-hun continued, ignoring the side chatter. “I get that this situation is stressful. It’s stressful for all of us. But we’re not going to survive if we’re constantly fighting each other. We need to be united, and that means figuring out how to work together, even if you don’t like each other.”

You crossed your arms, your jaw tightening. “I don’t trust him,” you said bluntly, pointing at Young-il. “He’s a liability. And if we’re going to talk about things that are making it harder for everyone else, maybe we should start with him.”

Young-il’s smirk faded, and his expression hardened. “A liability?” he repeated, his voice low. “That’s funny coming from someone who spends more time complaining than actually contributing.”

“I contribute just fine,” you shot back. “The difference is, I don’t leave people to die or—”

“Enough!” Gi-hun snapped, his voice louder now, silencing both of you. Everyone went still, the weight of his frustration hanging in the air.

“I didn’t bring this up so you two could start another fight,” Gi-hun said, his tone heavy with disappointment. “I brought it up because we’re running out of time. The games are only going to get harder, and if we keep tearing each other apart, we’re going to lose. All of us.”

Jun-hee, who had been quiet until now, spoke up softly. “He’s right,” she said, looking at you and Young-il in turn. “We don’t have to like each other, but we do have to survive. And the only way to do that is if we stick together.”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. You avoided looking at Young-il, your fists clenched in your lap, while he sat back with an expression that was unreadable.

Finally, Gi-hun sighed again, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not asking you two to be best friends,” he said. “I’m asking you to set this aside for now, at least. For the sake of everyone else.”

You hesitated, glancing at Jung-bae, who gave you a small, encouraging nod. Taking a deep breath, you finally muttered, “Fine. But don’t expect me to trust him.”

Young-il shrugged, his tone casual but with an edge of sarcasm. “Trust me, the feeling’s mutual.”

Gi-hun looked between the two of you, his expression weary but relieved. “That’s a start,” he said. “Let’s just hope it’s enough.”

The group slowly began to relax, the tension easing slightly, but the unease lingered. You knew this truce was fragile at best, and with each passing game, the cracks in the group were only going to grow deeper.

The boat rocked gently on the waves as it cut through the dark waters, the group seated in tense silence as they made their way toward their dangerous destination. The air was cool, carrying the faint smell of salt and seaweed, and the sound of the motor hummed in the background. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting an eerie glow over the scene.

Jun-ho, Woo-seok, Y/S/N, Captain Park, and two others sat scattered across the deck, each lost in their thoughts. The mission they had undertaken was dangerous, perhaps suicidal, but for everyone on board, it was worth the risk.

Woo-seok glanced at Y/S/N, who was sitting near the edge of the boat, staring out at the open sea. After a moment, he cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Hey,” he said, his voice carrying over the hum of the motor. “I just wanted to say… I appreciate that you accepted our offer to help us find the island. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, especially with… well, trying to find your sister and all.”

she turned to him, offering a faint but sincere smile. “Yeah, it’s been years,” she said, her voice soft, tinged with a quiet determination. “But I haven’t lost hope. Not yet.”

Jun-ho, who had been leaning against the side of the boat, straightened up slightly at the mention of a missing sister. His sharp eyes studied her or a moment before he spoke. “You have a sister that you lost?” he asked, his tone calm but curious.

she hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah,” she said, her gaze dropping to her hands. “Actually, I’m a twin. She’s my other half. It’s been years since she went missing, but… part of me thinks she’s still alive.”

The group fell silent, the weight of her words settling over them like a heavy blanket. Even the sound of the motor seemed to fade into the background as everyone absorbed the revelation.

Jun-ho tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “A twin,” he repeated, as if the concept carried a special significance to him. “ I understand the feeling of Losing someone so close to you.”

she nodded, her jaw tightening as she stared out at the waves. “It is,” she admitted. “Sometimes it feels like a piece of me is missing. But at the same time, I can’t shake the feeling that she’s out there somewhere, waiting for me to find her.”

Captain Park, who had been silent until now, let out a thoughtful hum. “That kind of bond,” he said, his gruff voice cutting through the silence, “it’s not something that just goes away. If you feel like she’s alive, maybe there’s a reason for that.”

she looked at him, her expression softening. “I hope so,” she said quietly. “I don’t know what I’ll find when I get to the end of this, but I have to try. I can’t give up on her.”

Woo-seok nodded, his usual bravado replaced by a rare moment of sincerity. “Well, if anyone can do it, it’s you,” he said. “You’ve already made it this far. That’s more than most people could handle.”

Jun-ho leaned back against the side of the boat, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the conversation. “You’re stronger than most,” he said finally, his tone neutral but with a hint of respect. “But be careful. Hope is a double-edged sword. It can drive you forward, but it can also destroy you if you’re not careful.”

She met his gaze, her eyes steady. “I know,” she said. “But I’d rather hold onto hope than give in to despair. If there’s even the slightest chance that she’s alive, I’ll do whatever it takes to find her.”

Jun-ho studied her for a moment longer before nodding, seemingly satisfied with her resolve. The boat fell silent again, the conversation leaving a lingering sense of gravity among the group.

As the waves lapped against the sides of the boat and the island loomed somewhere in the distance, each person found themselves lost in their own thoughts. But for her, one thought remained clear: no matter what lay ahead, she would never stop searching for you.

The eerie melody echoed softly through the dimly lit dormitory, casting an unsettling calm over the room. Most of the players were fast asleep, sprawled across their bunks, exhausted from the day’s chaos. The faint hum of the music blended with the sound of slow, rhythmic breathing, masking the quiet rustle of footsteps.

You carefully slipped out of your bunk, glancing around to ensure no one was watching. The dim light from the surveillance cameras hung heavy over the room, but you’d memorized their blind spots by now. Moving swiftly, you navigated your way to the bathroom, the door creaking faintly as you pushed it open and slipped inside.

Once there, you leaned against the cool tile wall, taking a deep breath. The silence in the bathroom was a stark contrast to the noise of the dormitory, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to relax.

Minutes later, the door creaked again, and you immediately tensed, preparing for an intrusion. But when you turned to look, your guard dropped as a familiar figure stepped inside. Young-il moved with practiced ease, his sharp eyes scanning the space before settling on you.

“You’re doing well, jagiya,” he murmured, his voice low and almost teasing. “Playing your part like a professional.”

You smirked, your expression equal parts smug and amused. “Of course I am,” you replied, crossing your arms as you leaned back against the wall. “Everyone thinks we hate each other. They think we’re just players like the rest of them, desperate to survive.”

Young-il chuckled, stepping closer to you. His usual air of arrogance seemed softer here, more intimate, as if the walls around him only came down in these stolen moments. “And in reality,” he said, his tone quiet but charged, “we’re married. Partners in every sense of the word. They don’t know who we really are.”

A sly smile spread across your face as you tilted your head, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “And they don’t know that you’re the Front Man,” you said, emphasizing the title, “or, as Gi-hun so dramatically calls you, ‘the leader of the mask.’ And me?” You shrugged lightly, your smirk widening. “I’m the loving wife, hidden in plain sight.”

Young-il’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of pride and affection as he reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ve always been good at this,” he said softly. “Better than anyone else. No one even suspects that you’re working with me, let alone who you really are.”

You laughed quietly, the sound low and bitter. “They’re too busy fighting amongst themselves,” you said. “All it takes is a little tension, a few carefully placed words, and they’re ready to rip each other apart. It’s almost too easy.”

Young-il nodded, his expression growing serious. “But don’t get too comfortable,” he warned. “The games are only going to get harder from here. And we can’t afford any mistakes.”

You rolled your eyes, though your smirk didn’t falter. “I know,” you said. “But don’t forget I’m the one keeping them distracted while you run the show behind the scenes. If anyone’s going to slip up, it won’t be me.”

For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the weight of your shared secret hanging in the air. Despite the danger, despite the lies, there was an undeniable connection between you, a bond forged in the fire of shared ambition and unshakable trust.

Young-il reached for your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. “Just remember,” he said, his voice low and steady, “no matter what happens, we’re in this together.”

You squeezed his hand, your gaze meeting his. “Always,” you said.

The moment was brief but electric, a stolen flicker of truth in a sea of deception. And then, as quickly as it began, it was over. Young-il released your hand and stepped back, his expression hardening as he slipped back into his role.

“I’ll go first,” he said, glancing toward the door. “Wait a few minutes before you head back.”

You nodded, watching as he disappeared into the shadows, his footsteps silent against the tile. Once he was gone, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself before stepping back into the world of lies you had so carefully crafted.

As you made your way back to your bunk, the music continued to play, its haunting melody a fitting backdrop to the dangerous game you were playing. No one in the dormitory stirred as you climbed into bed, your face a mask of calm as you prepared for whatever the next day would bring. The truth remained hidden, and the game went on.

The next morning, the dormitory was alive with the sound of shuffling footsteps and low murmurs as players begrudgingly pulled themselves from their bunks. The tension from the previous day lingered in the air, unspoken but palpable, as everyone moved through their morning routine with quiet efficiency.

Breakfast was a simple, tasteless affair some sort of watery porridge ladled into bowls, accompanied by stale bread. The players sat scattered across the large dining area, eating in relative silence, the weight of the games making small talk feel almost impossible.

You sat with your group, slowly poking at your food with your spoon. The others chatted quietly, trying to keep their spirits up despite the grim atmosphere, but you remained quiet, lost in your own thoughts.

That was, until you noticed movement out of the corner of your eye.

From across the room, you saw Young-il approaching with his tray, his expression as cool and unreadable as ever. He didn’t bother asking if the seat next to you was free he simply placed his tray down and sat, his presence as commanding as always.

You didn’t bother hiding your irritation. Letting out a dramatic sigh, you rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. “Seriously?” you muttered, not even looking at him as you shoved your spoon into the mushy porridge. “Of all the places you could sit, you chose here?”

Young-il smirked, clearly unfazed by your tone. “Good morning to you too,” he said smoothly, picking up his spoon and taking a deliberate bite of his food. “You know, for someone who claims to hate me, you sure spend a lot of time noticing where I sit.”

Your eyes snapped to his, narrowing in annoyance. “Noticing?” you shot back. “You’re impossible to miss, old man. You loom like a shadow, always showing up where you’re not wanted.”

A couple of the other players sitting by Gi-hun and Jung-bae, in particular exchanged uneasy glances, clearly bracing themselves for another round of bickering.

Jung-bae leaned over slightly, trying to diffuse the tension with a forced chuckle. “Uh, maybe we could focus on eating instead of, you know, arguing?” he suggested hesitantly.

Young-il ignored him, his smirk widening as he leaned back in his seat. “It’s funny,” he said, his tone almost teasing. “You say you don’t want me around, but here I am, sitting right next to you. Almost as if… you enjoy my company.”

You scoffed, turning your attention back to your food with a look of pure disgust. “Keep telling yourself that,” you muttered. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Hyun-ju, who was seated across from you, tried to suppress a giggle but failed, her laugh coming out as a soft snort. “You two are like oil and water,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t know how you haven’t torn each other apart yet.”

“Give it time,” you muttered, stabbing your spoon into your porridge with more force than necessary.

Young-il, ever the picture of calm, leaned forward slightly, his smirk still firmly in place. “Oh, I think we’ve found a good balance,” he said, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. “After all, every group needs a little… tension to keep things interesting.”

You glared at him, opening your mouth to retort, but Gi-hun quickly held up his hand, cutting you off. “Okay, that’s enough,” he said firmly, looking between the two of you. “Can we please just get through one meal without the two of you going at it? We’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

You huffed, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. “Fine,” you muttered, though your eyes still flicked toward Young-il with a look of disdain.

Young-il, for his part, simply chuckled and went back to his food, his calm demeanor only fueling your irritation.

As the group settled into an uneasy silence, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at him out of the corner of your eye. For all his arrogance and infuriating smugness, there was something about the way he carried himself. calm, unshaken, and always two steps ahead. that made it impossible to completely ignore him.

The rest of the meal passed in strained silence, the tension between you and Young-il hanging heavy in the air. But for the other players in their group, it was just another morning in the dormitory. another day of trying to survive the games.

The din of conversation filled the room as the players sat scattered in small groups, their voices rising and falling in a chaotic symphony. Everyone was busy strategizing, bonding, or simply trying to make sense of their grim reality. The tension from the impending rebellion hung heavy in the air, but it seemed to energize the group rather than dampen their spirits.

Amidst the noise and chatter, no one noticed the quiet exchange happening between you and Young-il in a corner of the room. Leaning in slightly, you kept your voice low, your tone sharp and calculated as you spoke.

“Jung-bae told me what you did to that player during the Mingle game,” you began, your words laced with accusation and urgency. “Snapping his neck like that. He’s already starting to put pieces together, and if he decides to run his mouth to Gi-hun especially during the rebellion they’ll all turn on you.”

Young-il leaned back slightly, his expression calm, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of annoyance. “He won’t,” he said, his voice measured. “Jung-bae knows better than to cross me.”

You shook your head, your lips curling into a smirk. “Don’t underestimate him,” you warned. “He’s already suspicious, and once the rebellion kicks off, he’ll have the perfect opportunity to expose you. If I were you, I’d take care of him before he gets the chance.”

Young-il raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “Take care of him?” he echoed, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “And what do you suggest, jagiya? Should I just walk up to him and slit his throat in front of everyone?”

You rolled your eyes, your smirk widening. “Don’t be stupid,” you said. “You’re not going to do it as yourself. You’ll do it as the Front Man. Once everything goes down, you’ll have the perfect cover.”

Leaning closer, you spoke in a hushed tone, outlining your plan with ruthless precision. “Here’s what you’re going to do. When the rebellion starts, Gi-hun is going to split everyone into smaller groups, right? Jung-bae and Gi-hun will take the lead in one group while you’re left with two other players and tasked with taking out some of the soldiers.”

Young-il’s eyes narrowed slightly as he listened, his mind already working through the logistics of your suggestion.

“You’re going to kill those two players,” you continued, your voice cold and unrelenting. “Make it look like an accident or pin it on the soldiers doesn’t matter how you do it, just make sure they’re out of the way. Once that’s done, you’ll switch into your stulk and mask. No one will know it’s you.”

You paused for a moment, letting your words sink in before delivering the final piece of your plan. “When everything is under control and the chaos dies down, you’ll track down Jung-bae. He’ll probably be with Gi-hun. Once you do take him out, and make it clean.”

Young-il studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he leaned forward, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’ve thought this through,” he said, his voice low and amused. “Almost like you’ve been planning this for a while.”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I’m just looking out for us,” you said. “Jung-bae’s a liability, and liabilities have no place in this game. Besides, once he’s gone, Gi-hun will be too heartbroken and stop the rebellion.”

Young-il chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’re ruthless, you know that?” he said, his tone tinged with admiration.

You smirked, your eyes gleaming with cold determination. “Ruthless keeps us alive,” you replied. “And if you want to stay alive, you’ll do exactly what I’ve told you.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the hum of conversation around you masking the weight of your words. Finally, Young-il nodded, a hint of resolve flashing in his eyes.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll handle it.”

“Good,” you said, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms. “Now, act normal. The last thing we need is anyone noticing we’re talking.”

Young-il smirked, his usual air of confidence returning as he leaned back and picked at his food. To anyone watching, it would seem like the two of you had simply exchanged a few words before going back to your meal.

But beneath the surface, the wheels were already in motion. As the rebellion loomed closer, so too did the shadows of betrayal and bloodshed. And in this game, only the ruthless would survive.

Later that day, the tension in the dormitory had eased slightly, and small groups of players were scattered around, talking in hushed tones or making plans for the Special Game. In one corner, Young-il sat with Gi-hun, Jung-bae, and a few of the others, his usually stoic expression marred by a rare look of irritation.

He leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed, and let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t understand how any of you can deal with her,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “She’s insufferable. Every time I so much as breathe in her direction, she’s rolling her eyes or making some snide comment.”

Gi-hun raised an eyebrow, glancing up from where he was sharpening a makeshift weapon. “You’re talking about Y/N, aren’t you?” he asked, his tone a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“Of course I’m talking about her,” Young-il snapped, his voice rising slightly before he forced himself to calm down. “Who else could make someone this irritated? She’s constantly on my case, acting like she owns the place.”

Jung-bae chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, to be fair, you don’t exactly make it easy,” he said. “You always manage to get under her skin. It’s like you’re trying to start a fight every time you two are in the same room.”

Young-il scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “I don’t try to start anything,” he insisted. “She just has a problem with me, and she doesn’t bother hiding it. The way she talks to me like I’m some kind of nuisance it’s infuriating.”

Gi-hun smirked, exchanging a knowing glance with Jung-bae. “You know,” he said, his tone teasing, “the way you’re going on about her, it almost sounds like you care what she thinks.”

Young-il shot him a sharp look, his expression darkening. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said firmly. “I couldn’t care less what she thinks of me. I’m just saying it’s exhausting dealing with someone who seems to hate me for no reason.”

Dae-ho who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up, his voice calm but laced with curiosity. “You sure it’s no reason?” he asked. “Maybe there’s more to it than you realize.”

Young-il frowned, his jaw tightening. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, his tone defensive.

Dae-ho hrugged, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Sometimes people lash out because they’re hiding something,” he said. “Maybe she’s got her own reasons for acting the way she does. You ever think about that?”

Young-il opened his mouth to reply but stopped himself, his expression shifting into one of contemplation. For a brief moment, a flicker of doubt crossed his face, but he quickly shook it off, scowling. “Whatever her reasons are, they don’t justify her behavior,” he said firmly. “She’s rude, she’s disrespectful, and she’s impossible to work with.”

Gi-hun chuckled, shaking his head as he set his weapon aside. “You sound like an old married couple,” he said, grinning.

Young-il groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t even joke about that,” he said. “The thought alone is enough to make my blood boil.”

The group laughed, their voices echoing through the room, but Young-il’s irritation lingered. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he glanced toward where you were sitting with Hyun-ju and Min-su on the other side of the dormitory. You were laughing at something Min-su had said, completely oblivious to the conversation happening about you.

“I just don’t get it,” Young-il muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “What’s her problem with me?”

Gi-hun patted him on the shoulder, his grin widening. “Who knows?” he said. “Maybe one day you’ll figure it out. Until then, you’re just going to have to deal with it like the rest of us.”

Young-il let out another sigh, leaning back against the wall as the group returned to their conversation. But even as the laughter and chatter continued around him, his gaze lingered on you, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

The quiet hum of the boat's engine filled the air as your twin sat on the deck, staring out at the endless stretch of water. The faint scent of salt hung in the breeze, but the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken thoughts and shared determination. Jun-ho approached, holding a cup of water, and settled into a seat beside your twin.

For a while, they sat in silence, watching the waves ripple and crash against the boat. Finally, Jun-ho broke the quiet, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity. “It seems to me,” he began, “that you and I have something in common.”

She turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Jun-ho offered a small smile, though there was a trace of sadness in his eyes. “I also have a lost sibling,” he said softly. “Except… it’s my brother.”

Her expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and understanding crossing her face. “Your brother?” She echoed.

Jun-ho nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Yeah. It’s been years since I last saw him. He disappeared without a trace, and I’ve been searching ever since. Sometimes it feels like I’m chasing a ghost, but… I can’t bring myself to stop. Not until I know the truth.”

She leaned back slightly, her arms resting on the edge of the boat as she studied him. “I get that,” she said quietly. “When someone you care about vanishes, it’s like a part of you goes missing too. You can’t move on because there’s always that question. what if? What if they’re out there, waiting for you? What if you’re the only one who can find them?”

Jun-ho nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Exactly,” he said. “Sometimes people tell me to let it go, that it’s been too long, but… I can’t. He’s my brother. If there’s even the smallest chance he’s still alive, I have to keep looking.”

She glanced down at her hands, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the wooden deck. “I feel the same way about my sister,” she admitted. “We’re twins, so it’s even harder. It’s like… a piece of me has been missing all this time. No matter how much I try to focus on other things, there’s always this emptiness. This feeling that she’s out there somewhere, and she needs me.”

Jun-ho looked at her, his expression softening. “That must be hard,” he said. “Being a twin means you share a bond that most people can’t even begin to understand. Losing that… it must feel like losing a part of yourself.”

She nodded, her jaw tightening as she fought to keep her emotions in check. “It does,”she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Sometimes I wonder if she even remembers me. If she’s alive, if she’s safe, if she’s happy… I’d give anything to know the answers.”

Jun-ho placed a hand on her shoulder, his grip firm but comforting. “I know exactly how you feel,” he said. “And I know how hard it is to keep hoping when it feels like the whole world is against you. But you’re not alone in this. We’re going to find that island, and maybe just maybe we’ll find some answers along the way. For both of us.”

She looked at him, her expression softening as a flicker of gratitude appeared in their eyes. “Thanks,” she said. “It helps, knowing someone else understands.”

Jun-ho offered a small smile, his hand falling back to his side as he leaned against the railing. “We’ll find them,” he said with quiet determination. “Your sister, my brother… we’ll figure it out. One way or another.”

For a moment, the two of them sat in silence again, the weight of their shared loss hanging between them. But amidst the sorrow, there was also a sense of quiet resolve a determination to keep going, no matter how impossible the odds seemed.

As the boat continued to cut through the water, she glanced at Jun-ho, their expression thoughtful. “You know,” she said, “for someone I just met, you’re pretty easy to talk to.”

Jun-ho chuckled, the sound light but genuine. “Likewise,” he said. “Maybe it’s because we’ve both been through the same kind of pain. Makes it easier to understand each other.”

She smiled faintly, her gaze returning to the horizon. “Maybe,”she said. “But either way… thanks.”

Jun-ho nodded, his own gaze following hers. “Anytime,” he said simply.

And with that, the two of them fell into a companionable silence, the sound of the waves filling the air as the boat carried them closer to the answers they both so desperately sought.

The dim light of the dormitory flickered faintly as the night wore on, the murmur of conversation dwindling as exhaustion began to settle over the players. You glanced around, noting how most of them were either dozing off or too preoccupied to notice you slipping away. Smoothing down your expression to hide any suspicion, you stood up casually and muttered something about needing the bathroom.

No one paid you much attention as you made your way towards the door, your footsteps quiet against the cold floor. Once inside the bathroom, you took a deep breath, the air thick with the faint scent of bleach. You leaned against the sink for a moment, your reflection staring back at you in the cracked mirror.

Moments later, the faint creak of the bathroom door opening made you straighten up, your muscles instinctively tensing. Before you could turn around, a familiar hand grasped your wrist, pulling you away from the sink and back against a solid chest.

“Couldn’t wait, could you?” Young-il’s voice was low and teasing, his breath warm against your ear.

You smirked, your pulse quickening as you glanced up at him. “Took you long enough,” you replied, your tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”

He chuckled softly, his other hand coming to rest on your waist as he leaned in closer. “You should know by now I’m not one to leave you waiting.”

Before you could retort, his lips crashed against yours, his kiss urgent and possessive. Your back hit the cool tiles of the wall as he deepened the kiss, his hands sliding around your waist to pull you closer. The world outside the bathroom faded away, the tension and chaos of the games momentarily forgotten as you lost yourself in the moment.

Your hands found their way to his shirt, clutching the fabric as if anchoring yourself. There was something electric about the way his lips moved against yours, a mix of frustration, passion, and unspoken promises in every movement. It was a stark contrast to the way you had to act around each other in front of the others hostile, distant, like sworn enemies.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing heavy but steady. “You’re playing your part really well,” he murmured, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Making them think that we’re at each other’s throats.”

You tilted your head, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “That’s because we are,” you said lightly, though your fingers still lingered on his chest. “At least, that’s what they think.”

He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Let them think that,” he said. “It keeps them off our trail. No one suspects a thing.”

You nodded, your expression growing more serious. “Good. Because if they did, everything we’ve worked for would fall apart. You’ve got your role to play, and so do I. We can’t afford any mistakes.”

Young-il’s smile softened, and he pressed a brief kiss to your forehead. “No mistakes,” he agreed. “We’ve come too far for that.”

The two of you stood there for a moment longer, the quiet of the bathroom offering a rare sense of intimacy amidst the chaos. But all too soon, the weight of reality began to press down on you again. You straightened up, smoothing down your clothes as you stepped away from him.

“We should go back before anyone notices,” you said, your voice steady but laced with reluctance.

He nodded, his usual stoic expression slipping back into place as he adjusted his shirt. “You first,” he said, gesturing toward the door. “I’ll follow in a few minutes.”

You smirked, giving him a playful glance over your shoulder as you opened the door. “Don’t take too long, old man,” you teased before slipping out into the hallway.

As you walked back to the dormitory, your heart still racing, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. No one would ever suspect the truth. that the constant bickering and hostility between you and Young-il was nothing more than a carefully crafted façade.

And as you took your seat among the other players, acting as if nothing had happened, you felt a strange sense of satisfaction. In this deadly game where alliances shifted like sand, the bond you shared with Young-il was your greatest secret and your greatest weapon.

The tension in the dormitory was palpable as Gi-hun gathered the group to discuss the rebellion. The players sat in a loose circle, their faces marked with a mixture of hope and apprehension. The dim, flickering light cast long shadows on the walls, adding to the somber atmosphere.

Gi-hun stood in the center, his arms crossed as he addressed the group. “Alright,” he began, his voice firm but calm, “we’ve all agreed that we can’t keep playing their twisted games. If we don’t take a stand now, we might never get another chance. So, we need a solid plan for the rebellion.”

The group murmured in agreement, nodding along as Gi-hun laid out the basics of his idea. He spoke about timing, positioning, and how they’d need to use the chaos of the next game to their advantage. Everyone listened intently, some adding their own thoughts or suggestions.

Then, as Gi-hun paused to let the group absorb the information, Young-il, who had been leaning casually against the wall, cleared his throat. “I’ve got a suggestion,” he said, pushing off the wall and stepping into the circle.

You raised an eyebrow, already bracing yourself for whatever nonsense he was about to say.

Young-il crossed his arms, his tone calm but confident. “Instead of focusing on spreading ourselves thin across the dormitory or the arena, we could just use brute force. If we overpower a few guards early on, we could take their weapons and use them to control the situation. It’s straightforward and doesn’t require much coordination.”

For a moment, the group was silent, processing his words. Then you let out a scoff, your arms crossing over your chest as you fixed him with a sharp glare. “That’s… that’s a dumb plan,” you said bluntly, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “Just like you.”

A few chuckles rippled through the group, but Young-il didn’t flinch, his jaw tightening as he looked at you.

“I’m serious,” he replied, his voice steady but laced with irritation. “It could work if we all commit to it.”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, leaning back on your hands. “Oh, sure,” you said, your voice dripping with mock enthusiasm. “Let’s all risk everything on your ‘brute force’ strategy and hope the guards just magically hand over their weapons. Brilliant idea, genius.”

Young-il narrowed his eyes, clearly growing more annoyed, but before he could retort, you leaned forward, your tone sharp and cutting. “Actually, I’ve got a better plan,” you said, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “We could sacrifice you.”

The room went silent for a moment, the tension thick as the group processed your words. Gi-hun let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, while a few others exchanged awkward glances.

“Sacrifice me?” Young-il repeated, his tone incredulous.

You shrugged, your smirk widening. “Think about it,” you said, your voice light but laced with venom. “You’re big and loud. perfect distraction material. While the guards are busy dealing with you, the rest of us could slip away or take control of the situation. It’s actually the first useful thing you’d contribute to this group.”

A few stifled laughs broke out among the group, and even Gi-hun couldn’t help but crack a small smile despite himself.

Young-il stepped closer to you, his expression darkening. “You’ve got a lot of nerve,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

“And you’ve got a lot of bad ideas,” you shot back, meeting his glare without flinching.

Gi-hun quickly stepped between the two of you, holding up his hands to keep the peace. “Alright, that’s enough,” he said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension. “We don’t have time for this. We need to work together if we want this rebellion to succeed.”

You huffed, leaning back and crossing your arms. “Fine,” you muttered, though the annoyance in your tone was clear.

Young-il gave you one last glare before stepping back, his jaw clenched as he returned to his spot by the wall.

Gi-hun sighed, running a hand through his hair as he addressed the group again. “We need a plan that doesn’t rely on brute force or unnecessary risks,” he said. “Let’s focus on strategy and coordination. If we work together, we can pull this off.”

The group nodded, slowly returning their focus to the task at hand. But even as the discussion continued, the tension between you and Young-il lingered, an unspoken reminder of the complicated dynamics within the group.

The waves crashed gently against the hull of the boat, a rhythmic sound that matched the faint sway of the vessel as it cut through the water. The night sky stretched endlessly above, filled with stars that seemed to twinkle with quiet indifference to the turmoil brewing below. Your twin leaned against the railing, staring out at the horizon with a mix of determination and unease.

Jun-ho approached, his footsteps light but purposeful. He carried a thermos in one hand and two tin cups in the other. “I figured you could use something warm,” he said, his tone casual but carrying a hint of understanding.

She glanced over her shoulder and offered a faint smile. “Thanks,” she said, taking one of the cups as he poured some tea into it.

The two stood in silence for a moment, sipping from their cups and listening to the sound of the waves. There was a heaviness in the air, an unspoken weight they both carried, though neither seemed ready to address it outright.

“You know,” Jun-ho said finally, his voice quiet, “this feels like a never-ending circle. The searching, the questioning, the dead ends… sometimes it feels like no matter how far I get, I always end up right back where I started.”

She nodded, her grip tightening slightly on the cup. “Yeah,” she murmured. “It’s like every lead brings more questions than answers. I keep thinking I’m getting closer, but then something happens, and it all falls apart again. It’s exhausting.”

Jun-ho leaned against the railing beside you, his gaze fixed on the dark expanse of water. ”How long has it been since your sister went missing?” he said, more a statement than a question.

She nodded,her expression softening as a flicker of vulnerability crossed her face. “It’s been years ago,” she said quietly. “It was like she just vanished into thin air. No clues, no trace… nothing. A part of me wonders if I’ll ever find her, but I can’t bring myself to stop looking. It’s like… if I give up, then I’m admitting she’s gone.”

Jun-ho’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he listened. “I get that,” he said, his voice low. “I’m searching for my brother. It’s been years, but I can’t let it go. I’ve uncovered bits and pieces. just enough to keep me going, but not enough to find him. And every time I think I’m getting close, something or someone gets in my way.”

She turned to look at him, her brows furrowing. “Someone?”

Jun-ho hesitated, his gaze flicking to the deck as if debating how much to say. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I’ve been on this trail for a while now, and there’s always been this… shadow. People who seem determined to keep me from finding the truth. At first, I thought it was just bad luck, but now I’m starting to think it’s deliberate.”

Her expression hardened, her free hand gripping the railing. “You think someone’s trying to stop you?”

Jun-ho nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I don’t just think it. I know it. Someone doesn’t want me getting close to the island. And I can’t shake the feeling that whoever it is, they know more about my brother’s disappearance than they’re letting on.”

The two of them exchanged a tense look, the weight of their shared suspicions settling over them.

Unbeknownst to either of them, Captain Park stood below deck, his sharp eyes scanning over a map spread out on the table. He traced a line with his finger, marking the boat’s course. In his other hand, he held a small, black device a secure line to the Front Man.

The distorted voice of the Front Man came through the receiver. “Report.”

Captain Park’s jaw tightened as he spoke. “We’re en route to the island,” he said. “Everything’s proceeding as planned. But there’s a complication.”

The voice on the other end was cold and unyielding. “Explain.”

Captain Park glanced at the staircase leading up to the deck, his expression dark. “One of the passengers. Jun-ho. he’s been asking too many questions. He’s getting closer to the truth.”

There was a pause, and then the voice replied, “Keep him away from the island. Whatever it takes. Do not let him uncover anything. Understood?”

“Yes,” Captain Park said, his tone flat. “Understood.”

As he ended the call, his gaze hardened, and he turned back to the map. For years, he had been following orders, playing his part in the larger scheme. His loyalty to the Front Man was unwavering, but there were moments brief, fleeting moments when he questioned the morality of his actions.

Above deck, Your twin and Jun-ho continued to talk, oblivious to the storm brewing below.

“We’ll figure this out,” she said firmly, her determination cutting through the doubt. “Whatever it takes, we’ll find them. Your brother, my sister… we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Jun-ho nodded, a faint but genuine smile breaking through his usually guarded expression. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “We will.”

But even as the two of them reaffirmed their resolve, Captain Park stood in the shadows, his loyalty to the Front Man ensuring that their journey would be anything but smooth.

The group had gathered once again in the corner of the dormitory, their voices low as Gi-hun laid out the next steps for the rebellion. The plan was delicate balancing timing, coordination, and the element of surprise. Everyone leaned in, listening intently, their expressions tense as they hung onto every word.

Young-il, standing with his arms crossed and an air of confidence that didn’t match the room’s energy, suddenly spoke up. “I’ve been thinking,” he began, his voice cutting through the conversation, “what if instead of splitting up like Gi-hun said, we all rush the guards at once? Overwhelm them with numbers. They won’t expect us to come at them head-on.”

The room went quiet for a beat, everyone glancing around to gauge the reaction. You let out a loud, exasperated groan, throwing your head back dramatically before fixing Young-il with a pointed glare.

“Seriously?” you said, your voice heavy with annoyance. “That’s your brilliant plan? Rushing the guards like a bunch of idiots?” You crossed your arms, leaning back against the wall. “It’s like you’re trying to find the fastest way to get us all killed. Do you even think before you open your mouth?”

Young-il’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening as he stared you down. “I’m just trying to contribute,” he snapped.

You rolled your eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Contribute? The only thing you’re contributing is a higher body count for their side. Do you ever stop to consider how stupid some of your ideas are? It’s better if you just keep your mouth shut, honestly.”

The group exchanged awkward glances, unsure whether to intervene or let the two of you go at it. Even Gi-hun seemed at a loss, his lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to keep the discussion on track.

Young-il took a step closer to you, his voice rising. “And what’s your plan, then? Since you’re so much smarter than everyone else.”

“Oh, I have a plan,” you shot back, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “And it doesn’t involve running into gunfire like a lunatic. But hey, if you’re so eager to play hero, we could always sacrifice you instead.”

That earned a few stifled chuckles from the group, though most of them quickly looked away when Young-il’s glare swept over them.

“Why Sacrifice me?” he repeated, his tone incredulous.

You smirked, leaning forward slightly as if daring him to argue. “Yeah, why not? Think about it, you’re loud, stubborn, and completely disposable. Perfect for drawing attention while the rest of us get actual work done. The only thing you’re good at is when you’re eating, so unless you plan on shoving food into the guards’ mouths to slow them down, I don’t see how you’re useful.”

A ripple of laughter broke through the tension this time, though Gi-hun quickly raised his hand to quiet the group. “Alright, that’s enough,” he said firmly, stepping between you and Young-il before things could escalate further.

You huffed, crossing your arms again as you leaned back against the wall. “I’m just saying,” you muttered under your breath, “some of us are trying to survive this, not get everyone killed.”

Young-il glared at you one last time before retreating to his corner, muttering something under his breath that you couldn’t quite hear.

Gi-hun sighed, rubbing his temples as he turned back to the group. “Can we focus, please?” he said, his tone exasperated. “We don’t have time for this. We need a plan that’s smart, coordinated, and gives us the best chance of surviving. If anyone has constructive suggestions, now’s the time to share them.”

The group murmured their agreement, shifting uncomfortably as they tried to refocus on the task at hand. You glanced at Young-il out of the corner of your eye, catching the frustration etched into his face.

“Good talk,” you muttered sarcastically under your breath, earning a few stifled smiles from the group.

Despite the tension, the conversation moved forward, though the air between you and Young-il remained thick with unspoken animosity. And as Gi-hun continued to lay out the rebellion’s details, you couldn’t help but wonder if Young-il’s presence in the group would end up being more trouble than it was worth.

The group was gathered in the dimly lit corner of the dormitory once again, the tension thick in the air as the weight of the upcoming rebellion loomed over everyone. Gi-hun had been explaining some of the risks they might face, but you could tell the group’s morale was shaky. Everyone knew the next game dubbed the “Special Game” was going to be brutal. If they wanted to stand a chance at survival, they needed a strategy, and they needed it fast.

You leaned forward, sitting cross-legged on the floor, your sharp eyes scanning the group. “Alright, listen up,” you said, your voice cutting through the hushed murmurs. “I’ve got an idea.”

Everyone turned to you, their expressions a mix of curiosity and desperation. Even Young-il, leaning against the wall with his usual smug look, seemed mildly interested, though his arms remained crossed in defiance.

You took a deep breath and began laying out your plan, your voice steady and confident. “When the Special Game begins, we already know what’s going to happen. ‘Team O’ are going to trying to eliminate us. Which is known as ‘weeding out the weakest,’ or whatever twisted logic they call it i. But we’re not going to play into their hands.”

The group leaned in closer, hanging on your every word. Even Gi-hun looked impressed by how quickly you’d taken control of the conversation.

“We’ll start by hiding under the beds,” you continued, gesturing around the room. “It’s not about being scared or weak. it’s about strategy. If we stay out in the open, we’re sitting ducks. Hiding under the beds, we’ll have the element of surprise. The soldiers will come in, guns blazing, stopping special game. and checking if the players are dead, But that’s when we make our move.”

A ripple of understanding passed through the group as they began nodding, murmuring in agreement.

“When they start shooting at the players, we’ll spring out and catch them off guard,” you said, your tone sharp and determined. “We’ll fight back, disarm them, and take their guns. Once we’ve got their weapons, it’s game over for them. They’ll realize they’re outnumbered, and most of them will retreat.”

You paused, letting your words sink in before adding, “But there’ll always be one one soldier who refuses to give up, who thinks he can be a hero. That’s the one we’ll corner. We’ll force him to cooperate, make him take us to the control room. And that’s where we’ll find the leader of the mask.”

The room was silent for a moment, everyone processing the boldness of your plan. Then, one by one, they began nodding, murmuring their approval. Even Gi-hun gave you a small, approving smile.

“That’s a solid plan,” Geum-ja said, her voice steady.

“Yeah, it could actually work,” Yong-sik agreed, his expression brightening with hope.

The murmurs grew louder as more players voiced their agreement, a newfound sense of determination spreading through the group.

You smirked, leaning back slightly and crossing your arms. Your eyes landed on Young-il, who was glaring at you from his spot against the wall. His expression was a mixture of annoyance and begrudging respect, though he clearly wasn’t ready to admit it.

“See?” you said, your tone dripping with mock sweetness. “Everyone loves my idea better than yours. That’s what you call woman power.” You gave him a pointed look, your smirk widening. “And be happy, Young-il. That I didn’t sacrifice you.”

A few members of the group chuckled at your jab, though they quickly stifled their laughter when Young-il’s glare swept over them.

“Don’t get too cocky,” Young-il muttered, his tone low and defensive.

You shrugged, unbothered by his reaction. “I’m just saying,” you replied, your voice light but laced with sarcasm. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before suggesting one of your dumb plans.”

Gi-hun stepped in before things could escalate, his hands raised in a calming gesture. “Alright, let’s not waste energy arguing,” he said, his voice firm. “Y/N’s plan is solid, and if we stick to it, we have a real chance of turning the tide. Let’s focus on preparing and making sure everyone knows their role.”

The group nodded, their focus returning to the task at hand. Even Young-il seemed to begrudgingly accept the plan, though the tension between you two remained palpable.

As the meeting continued, you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction. For once, the group was united, and your plan had given them a glimmer of hope. You just hoped that when the time came, they’d all be ready to act and that Young-il wouldn’t find a way to screw it up.

The sun was beginning to set, painting the horizon in shades of orange and pink as your twin and Jun-ho stood at the edge of the boat, the waves crashing gently against the hull. The conversation between them had grown more personal over the past few hours, their shared goal of finding their missing siblings acting as an unspoken bond that pulled them closer.

She leaned against the railing, staring out at the water, her expression distant. “You know,”she began softly, “it’s been years, but I’ve never stopped looking. Every day, I wake up thinking that today could be the day I find her. My twin… my other half.”

Jun-ho, standing beside her, nodded in quiet understanding. “I know exactly what you mean,” he said, his voice low. “When my brother went missing, it felt like a part of me disappeared with him. I’ve spent every waking moment since trying to figure out what happened to him. It’s like… until I find him, I can’t let myself move on.”

She glanced over at Jun-ho, her lips curving into a small, bittersweet smile. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How someone’s absence can take up so much space in your life.”

Jun-ho returned the smile, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Yeah. It’s like everything else fades into the background, and all that matters is finding them.”

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the sound of the ocean filling the space between them. Then Jun-ho spoke again, his tone lighter this time. “You know, once we find the island and you find your twin and I find my brother maybe we should celebrate.”

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jun-ho with a curious look. “Celebrate how?”

Jun-ho grinned, a rare flash of playfulness breaking through his usually serious demeanor. “How about dinner? You and me, somewhere far away from all this madness. A real meal, no rations, no guards, no games. Just good food, good company, and no stress for once.”

She let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “You’re already planning dinner, huh? We haven’t even found the island yet.”

“Hey,” Jun-ho said with a shrug, his grin widening. “It’s called optimism. You can’t survive something like this without a little bit of hope.”

She smiled, her gaze softening as she looked back at the horizon. “You’ve got a point,” she admitted. “And honestly? A real meal does sound nice. Something to remind us that there’s still life outside of all this.”

Jun-ho nodded, his expression turning more serious. “Exactly. Once this is over, we deserve to have something to look forward to. Something to remind us why we’re fighting so hard to get through this.”

She glanced at him, a hint of gratitude in her eyes. “You’re not bad at this whole motivational speech thing, you know that?”

Jun-ho laughed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t get used to it. I’m usually more of a ‘keep to myself’ kind of guy.”

“Well,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips, “I’ll hold you to that dinner, then. But only if we both make it out of this alive.”

Jun-ho extended his hand, his expression serious but with a glimmer of determination. “Deal. We both make it out, and dinner’s on me.”

She took his hand, shaking it firmly. “Deal.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the boat in shadows, the two of them stood side by side, their shared resolve strengthening their bond. Though the journey ahead was uncertain and fraught with danger, the promise of a simple dinner a moment of normalcy in a world of chaos gave them both a sliver of hope to hold onto.

The dormitory had fallen into a heavy silence as everyone began settling in for the night. The faint sound of the guards’ footsteps echoed in the distance, blending with the rhythmic hum of the facility’s ventilation system. Players shuffled to their assigned areas, whispering final words to each other before pulling up their thin blankets. Despite the stillness, there was an undercurrent of tension a quiet storm brewing as everyone braced themselves for what was to come.

You sat on your bed, leaning against the cold wall as you absentmindedly toyed with a loose thread on your sleeve. The rebellion was so close now, the plans coming together perfectly. But the weight of everything your role, the deception, the risks hung heavy on your chest. You couldn’t afford any slip-ups. Not now.

As you were lost in thought, you noticed a shadow moving out of the corner of your eye. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Moments later, Young-il appeared beside you, his expression smug as he casually leaned against the edge of the bed.

“Marriage power,” he murmured with a sly smirk, his voice low enough that no one else would hear.

You glanced up at him, one eyebrow raised. “What?”

“That’s what I’m calling it,” he said, his smirk widening. “You called it ‘woman power’ earlier, but let’s be real—our teamwork, our strategy… that’s what’s really keeping this rebellion together. It’s marriage power.”

You rolled your eyes, though a small smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. “You’re insufferable,” you muttered, shaking your head.

Young-il chuckled softly, lowering his voice even further. “Do you think one of the soldiers is going to reveal themselves during the rebellion?”

You sighed, leaning forward slightly as you considered the question. “You know it’s happened before,” you said quietly. “It’s happened multiple times. And if it happens again, you know what we do.” Your eyes locked with his, a steely determination in your gaze. “We take them out, no hesitation. But we also need to be smart about it. We have to make sure that we have soldiers securing the control rooms and all of the places.”

Young-il nodded, his expression serious now as he listened intently. You continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been thinking… during the rebellion, you could fake your death. It’ll throw everyone off, especially Gi-hun and his team. They won’t see it coming.”

A spark of intrigue flickered in Young-il’s eyes. “Faking my death, huh?”

You nodded, leaning closer. “Once everyone thinks you’re gone, you’ll slip away and change into your normal clothing and wear the mask. Then you’ll have the perfect opportunity to get to Jung-bae. You can eliminate him as the Frontman, and no one will suspect a thing.”

Young-il’s smirk returned, a dark glint in his eyes. “And Gi-hun?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Gi-hun will be heartbroken,” you said without hesitation, your tone cold and calculated. “Jung-bae is his best friend. When Jung-bae dies, the guilt is going to eat him alive just like it did when he first joined the games back in 2020.”

Young-il let out a low chuckle, his smirk widening. “You’re ruthless, you know that?”

You shrugged, leaning back against the wall. “It’s not about being ruthless. It’s about surviving. And if Gi-hun’s guilt can be used against him, we’d be stupid not to take advantage of it.”

Young-il’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “I wish I could kiss you,” he murmured, his voice so low it was almost drowned out by the hum of the room. “I miss kissing you.”

Your expression softened for a brief moment, and you glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention. “Don’t worry,” you said softly. “Soon, this will all be over. And when it is, we’ll have all the time in the world.”

Young-il nodded, his smirk returning as a hint of mischief danced in his eyes. “Gi-hun and his little team will regret ever messing with us,” he said, his voice dark. “The Frontman and his wife aren’t just players. they’re the real architects of this game. And the games will continue. No one else is stronger, smarter, or more cunning than us.”

You allowed yourself a small, conspiratorial smile, nodding in agreement. “Exactly. And when this is over, no one will even remember Gi-hun or his rebellion. The games will stay, and we’ll be the ones pulling the strings.”

Young-il straightened up, his confidence radiating from him as he cast one final glance around the room. “Soon,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “Very soon.”

With that, he slipped away into his bed, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The rebellion was coming, and so was the final act of your carefully crafted plan. All that was left now was to wait for the perfect moment to strike.

[1d1195]

sam, sam, sammmmm. it’s been a hot minute. im still out of the country, wifi is terrible, i am even more so. HAHA. BUT I MISS GETTING ON HERE AND TALKING WITH YOUUU😭😭😭 but thank goodness because i finally got free time to binge read all the one shots and series you’ve posted (except Honey, it’s the only one left and i’m going to wake up tomorrow and start because i KNOW im going to eat that up) AND ITS BEEN SO MUCH FUN SO THANK YOU SO MUCH.

can i just say how absolutely awesome it is that you run this account and you share all this with us? honestly i don’t even read your summaries anymore because i genuinely know that if you wrote it, ill love it. not even kidding.

SAMANTHA I JUST READ MOST AND YOU WERE SO RIGHT😭😭😭 I WOULDVE DIED IF I HAD TO WAIT FOR THAT😭😭😭 BUT OMGGGG MY HEART LITERALLY HURT SOOOOO BAD READING THAT STORY BUT IT WAS SOOOO GOOD. i was worried cause i remembered all the lauren hate mail but HONESTLY??? I WAS EXPECTING WORSE. I WAS SOOOOO SCARED SHE WAS GOING GET WITH HARRY I WOULDVE THROWN MY PHONE. she was just a jealous bitch, whatever.

the traditional blurb? and then the EXTRA traditional blurb??? BAHSHJEUSHAUAS HOTTTTT. I LOVE THEM🥹

the “heaven is a place on earth” cover is SOOO good, better believe it’s going straight to the clean up playlist. I HAVE A FEW SONGS TO SHARE AS WELL !!! “tenenbaum” by the paper kites - “sweet heat lightning” by gregory alan isakov - “hope” james bay

life is soooo ughhh. there’s something wrong with me, i dunno. please tell me you’re faring better, how’s life ? what’s new ? tell me everything ! love you lots <3333

~🎶

AHHHHHH!!!!! HIIIIIIII!!!!!!! I've missed you so much! Bad wifi is the worst! I figured you were still traveling but it's so good to hear from you!!!! Probs for the best you saved Honey as well, you'll see 😭 I think I got 15 messages for one of the parts. I hope you enjoy 💕

YOU'RE SO SWEET I COULD CRY 😭 I love this blog more than anything tbh. It's so nice to be here and write stuff but it's even nicer that you (and others) enjoy it and let me know that you do 😭 thank God for one direction, am I right?

I hate Lauren (although not as much as some of you 🤭) I briefly toyed with Harry dating but I don't think I could make him date Lauren. Maybe someone else. But Lauren would have been too much I think I'm glad you loved the story overall even if your heart hurt!

Traditional is always a safe bet, I think. I'm glad you loved them too! 💕

Okay listening to Paper Kites but they sing that other song I mentioned to you before so I'm VERY ready to listen to this song 10000 times in a row. (I'm listening to it right now, and I'm loving it thus far). I'm always here for a Gregory Alan Isakov song as well. James Bay for me is about 50-50 but I'll give him a fighting chance (I def heard Let It Go one too many times on the radio back in the day so I'm biased--isn't it weird though? I'M allowed to play the song over and over but the RADIO should NEVER.)

There's nothing wrong with you. Life IS soooo ughh. I'm doing alright. I feel like my energy is off and I'm not sure why (probs $$ related). I feel less stressed than I have in years which is nice, but in a constant state of being busy. Work is good overall! Which is like a HUGE load off my back. Otherwise, just trying to enjoy the little things every day so I don't become filled with existential dread 🙃 I don't have too much new going on. I'm one of those people who shift their closet from spring/summer to fall/winter (and back) so I did that over this past weekend and basically I never need to go shopping ever again (but also I have coupons so what am I supposed to do? Not use FREE MONEY!?) I'm SO obsessed with coffee it's borderline unhealthy but Gilmore Girls says it's fine so it is what it is. I need to start reading again. I've been rereading the same scene of "who did this to you" from what of my books just to feel something and I cannot move on. I mentioned it in an ask to my 💜-anon, but I straight up have two book-boyfriends right now and I'm literally so in love with them it's probs unhealthy as the coffee addiction. I have a wedding to go to this month which I'm not really looking forward to. October is SO busy and I feel like I'm rushing through this message but I am trying my HARDEST to finish a one-shot update for Thursday 😭

Anyway.

TELL ME ALL ABOUT YOU AND YOUR TRIP. Tell me everything as well! What has you thinking life is so ughhh?

MISSED YOU SO MUCH!!! LOVE YOU 💕

xoxo

[subbykboys]

new to this | taeyong

↳ pairing : virgin!taeyong x reader

Genre ➞ pure smut oof

Warnings ➞ sub!taeyong, corruption kink, begging, mild degrading, handjob, fingering (m. receiving), public-ish(?), mild choking, running into walls

Word Count ➞ 8.3k

requested by @ninachocoo

posted ; 3.08.21

Hot. God, it was so hot. 

Then again, summer in your part of town always was. But this heat— this heat was different. It surrounded you, pulling perspiration from your pores and clinging to you persistently. It spilled down your throat, filling your lungs with every deep inhale. It robbed you of any and all of your energy, leaving you too tired to rouse yourself from where you lay on the cool tile floor of your kitchen in front of the open fridge (the absolute coldest spot you could find in your entire house). 

You didn’t cope very well in warm weather, if that wasn’t obvious. 

And, at the cost of your poor housemate’s sanity, you always found new and creative ways to cope with the excruciating rise in temperature, 

“Y/n a few of my— how many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that?!” You couldn’t bring yourself to so much as flinch as the fridge door was abruptly slammed shut, only managing to pull a whining complaint from the back of your throat as your only source of cool air was ever so rudely ripped away. 

“Fuck you, Mark. It’s too fucking hot to worry about the stupid electricity bill.” You huffed, peeling your eyes open just long enough to shoot an icy glare in the direction of the scowling brunette. 

He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly, lower lip jutting out. “I think you forget that it’s a combination of both of our money going into paying them, so I think that I have a right to worry about how much is coming out of my pocket because you think that laying in front of an open fridge is a good way to ‘beat the heat’.” 

“Offer me a better solution, I’m open to suggestions.” You sighed tiredly. 

He only rolled his eyes. 

“Oh! I’ve got one,” you exclaimed suddenly, clapping your hands together as a gasp of excitement flew from your lips, “How about I just strip down and walk around butt ass naked? That should do the trick! Oh… but little Mark would like that a little too much, wouldn’t he?” You offered him a taunting pout, feigning sympathy as you glanced down unabashedly towards his crotch. 

Instinctively, his hands flew to cover himself as his cheeks throbbed a devastatingly obvious shade of red, bright enough to rival even the ripest of tomatoes. “Y–you—” 

Your lips curled with an amused smirk, but it faltered at the sound of thundering laughter coming from behind your flustered housemate. Your eyes followed the sound, finding its source in a group of about five or so men crowding up the foyer. Brows lifting in mild surprise, you shifted your attention back to an even more humiliated looking Mark. 

“You brought company.” An apology hung at the tip of your tongue. You really tried to keep your pg-13 teasing to a minimum around other people, especially knowing how susceptible Mark could be to his own embarrassment. 

“Hey Mark, I thought you said your roommate was a raging asshole with the sex drive of a teenaged boy on viagra? She seems pretty cool to me! And hot.” One of the taller boys chimed, a massive dopey grin plastered across his face. 

You turned to Mark slowly, brows raised. But he wouldn’t meet your eyes, head lowered. He wasn’t good at hiding his guilt. 

Welp. No apology for ole Marky boy today. 

“Please, allow me to properly introduce myself to our company.” Mark's eyebrows jumped all the way to his hairline as you pushed yourself off the floor and tossed an arm around his shoulder. “My name is (y/n), but I suppose Mark's asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra could work, too.” 

The look you shot him out of the corner of your eye had him shrinking in on himself, regret shining in his big brown eyes. But, you ruffled his hair, a silent reassurance that you weren’t all that torn up about the comment, especially considering it was hard to deny the layer of truth that lingered within it. 

You’d probably subjected Mark to more than his fair share of sleepless nights while you were up into the early morning giving the man (or woman) of the night the experience of a lifetime. A few scathing comments to close friends was more than understandable when looked upon in that light. Besides, you were never good at holding a grudge against your sweet, awkward, puppy-eyed housemate. 

The tall one that had spoken before chimed in eagerly, “I’m Yukhei, but my friends call me Lucas. Xuxi works, too. Or papi if you're feeling especially— ow!” Lucas yelped loudly as a hand connected to the back of a head with a sharp smack. You watched in amusement as another tall, charming looking man tugged him back, shooting him a warning glare before turning his attention to you. 

“Ignore him. He has a bad habit of forgetting his manners around attractive women. My name's Johnny, it’s great to finally meet you.” The sweet, disarming smile he offered you had any reservations melting away, and you easily returned the gesture before he proceeded with introductions. “This Haechan, Jaehyun, Doyoung, and— Taeyong?” 

Johnny pivoted around, brief confusion settling across his face before he spotted whoever he’d been looking for. Reaching behind Lucas, he grabbed someone's arm, tugging them into your line of sight. 

“And this is Taeyong!” He concluded with a grin, slapping a large hand down on the shorter boy’s shoulder. Taeyong dipped his head shyly, not meeting your eyes as he murmured a soft greeting that you were just barely able to catch. Soft tufts of dirty blonde hair fell over large brown eyes as he bowed politely, the air of meekness unmistakable. 

Oh, he’s cute. 

Your lips curled into an impish smirk. “Hi, Taeyong.” 

A faint blush darkened his cheeks and you caught a hint of a smile upturning the corners of his mouth. 

Really cute. 

Mark knew you well enough to see the gears beginning to turn in your head and coughed loudly when your stare lingered longer than necessary.

“O-kay, now that you’re all acquainted…” he stepped in swiftly, opting to intervene before you could get any wise ideas about his friend. “We have got a group project to work on and it would be extremely helpful if you’d refrain from providing any distractions. I already have a hard enough time trying to get them to focus for longer than five minutes as is.”

“Aww but I wanna hang out with your hot roommate, Mark.” Lucas whined loudly, practically throwing himself across Mark’s shoulders as the cutest pout you’ve probably ever seen fell across his lips. “She’s got a way nicer ass than any of you guys.” 

Doyoung sighed, his face screwing in second hand embarrassment for his friend’s shameless behavior. “Lucas, please.” 

“Have some dignity, man.” Haechan huffed additionally and you grinned in amusement as he grabbed the collar of Lucas’s shirt and began tugging him towards the living room. 

“Don’t worry, Mark. I’ll stay out of the way. I would hate to hinder your geek fest.” You teased, wrinkling your nose as you stepped past him. 

“Thank you, (y/n). I really— wait, Geek f– it’s a project worth thirty percent of our final grade!” 

“To-may-to, to-mah-to.” You waved a dismissive hand over your shoulder, before pausing briefly. Spinning on your heels, you turned back to face 

the cute boy, who visibly jolted the moment your attention landed on him. “It was very nice meeting you, Taeyong.” 

“Y- you, too.” He stuttered sweetly and you had to fight the overwhelming urge to reach over and pinch those adorable pink cheeks. Either pair. 

With one last sultry smile, and a wink just to fuck with Mark a little, you sauntered back into your bedroom. Miraculously, you were no longer concerned with the previously unbearable heat plaguing your apartment. Now, you had something —or rather, someone— far more interesting to occupy your mind. 

Taeyong was having a difficult time focusing, which was pretty out of ordinary. He had barely gotten anything done with his assigned part of the project, less than half a page filled out with what little information he managed to collect. Luckily, none of the other guys seemed to notice, too distracted by their own inabilities to focus to take notice of his. Otherwise he would have to concoct some lie. But he wasn’t good at lying. He was a terrible liar, in fact. So he would probably just end up blurting out the truth which was you. You were the reason he couldn’t focus. You with your mischievous eyes and your pretty smile and intoxicating laugh. Mark’s asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra. 

He’d seen pictures of you before. But they didn’t do you any justice. In pictures, you were pretty. In real life, you were beautiful, charming, witty, sexy, and you winked at him. Girls don’t wink at him. Not ever. But you had. You’d winked and smiled at him and he wasn’t sure if you were just teasing him because he flustered easily or if there was a chance it meant something a little more than that. 

… he secretly hoped it meant something a little more than that. 

But he shouldn’t be thinking about you right now. He should be thinking about finishing his research. Not your eyes. Not your smile. Not your voice of the way you purred his name and those shivers rushed down his spine and he could have sworn something twitched— okay. That’s enough. He really needed to splash some water in his face, cool down a little before his mind wandered to places it definitely should not. 

“Ah— Mark?” 

The younger boy lifted his head, brows raising. “’Sup?” 

“Where’s the bathroom?” 

He perked, tipping his chin forward. “Oh, it’s to the right of the k— shit, wait. That toilet’s busted. Um, just use the one in my room. It’s at the end of the hall.” 

“Thanks,” Taeyong pushed himself up with a soft grunt, nearly tripping over Yukhei’s long legs as he maneuvered himself around the cluttered coffee table, “I’ll be right back.” 

None of the other guys took much notice of how quickly he rushed out of the room, much to Taeyong’s relief. He let out a low breath the moment he turned the corner and found himself in a vacant hallway, but that relief was short lived. 

Mark had only said that his room was at the end of the hall. But, there were two doors at the end of the hall. Meaning one of them could possibly lead to your room. And you were in your room. Which meant if he walked through the wrong door on accident… he could walk in on you. Oh god. Heat rushed into his cheeks at the mere thought of such a humiliating occurrence. For a moment, he debated turning on his heels and returning to the living room. 

But, he wasn’t ready to go back to studying just yet. He was still feeling flushed and antsy and needed another moment or two to himself. Plus… he was actually starting to need to pee a little. Damn him and his tiny bladder.

Hesitating, he gently knocked on the door on the right side of the hall then waited ten seconds. No response. Just to be extra certain, he knocked twice more before finally turning the knob. Cautiously, he peeked his head inside. The black out curtains were drawn tight so the room was dark, too dark to make out anything defining outside of the vague shape of a bed and dresser tucked into the far corner. It took a few minutes of stumbling blindly through the inky blackness, tripping over clothes and extension wires until he found what he hoped to be the bathroom door. 

Without too much of a second thought, he opened the door. 

Then he froze. 

He thought it was Mark’s room. He really did. He thought he was tripping over Mark’s clothes and Mark’s wires. Though, he probably should have noticed the light coming out from beneath the bathroom door, indicating that someone might be inside. Or maybe he did but ignored it because– because maybe Mark just left the light on. That could have happened. That totally could have happened. 

But it didn’t. 

Because it wasn’t Mark’s room. Those weren’t his clothes or his wires and he didn’t leave the light on. 

He realized this all too late of course. Because now he was staring at you. You who was wet and naked and… wet and naked. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He could only stare, dumbstruck, mind short circuiting as billowing steam curled around the shape of your body like an iridescent veil, beautiful skin glistening under the soft golden light. Your head was tipped back, lips slightly parted, hands soothing your slick hair out of your face as the hot water cascading down the swells of your 

breasts and over the curves of your shoulders.

It was like watching something out of a pornographic shampoo commercial. 

“Oh—” it was somewhere between a whine and gasp, strangled and broken by the time it escaped his trembling lips. It was so quiet, you shouldn’t have been able to hear it over the hiss of water. So it took him off guard when your eyes opened and flicked in his direction. 

He flinched, body jolting backwards like it intended to make a break for it, but it was like your stare locked him into place. His brain was screaming at him to do something; to move, to  turn away, close his eyes, apologize, bash his head against the freaking wall, literally anything but stand there staring at you with his mouth open like a complete idiot. But he couldn’t. 

The corner of your mouth curled, forming into a downright devilish smirk that sent hot tendrils of desire spiraling through his veins. Then you quirked a brow and it was like a burst of electricity bringing him back to life. His hands flew up from where they’d been frozen at his sides, slapping so hard over his eyes that he yelped in shock at the sting. 

“Ohmygod I- I am so sorry! I am so—” he whirled around, spewing high pitched apologies as he scrambled for the door. Only, his eyes were closed so instead of bolting out the door he face planted into the wall next to the door. “Ow!” 

Your low laughter rippled through the small bathroom and red hot embarrassment raced up his neck and into his face. He could only whimper out one finally strained apology as he clutched his throbbing nose and stumbled back into the darkness of your bedroom, slamming the door sharply behind him. 

By the time he’d managed to scramble back into the hall, Taeyong felt like he was on fire. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he was certain if he dared to look in a mirror he’d be the equivalent of a tomato. 

Humiliation gripped at his throat, squeezing painfully around his airway every time he recalled the previous events. He’d never be able to face you again. Not after that train wreck. Not ever. Groaning distraughtly, he sank against the wall, silently wishing that the floor would just swallow him up and put an end to his suffering.

But, there was something worse than the embarrassment. Something hotter and harder, throbbing shamelessly in the confines of his suddenly far too jeans. He saw you naked— wet and naked, looking like a freaking goddess beneath the stream of hot water, soap suds still clinging to your skin. He had never seen a woman like that before. Not in person, at least. And none as beautiful as you. 

Biting his lip, he squeezed his legs together, trying his best to will away his progressively hardening erection. That, of course, did not work. And it didn’t help in the slightest that every time he so much as blinked, the image of you in the shower came rushing to the forefront of his mind, still fresh and vivid and devastating. 

Oh god. There was no was no way he could go back to working on the project now. If he thought he was being unproductive before— he probably wouldn’t be able to get a single legible word written with the image of you and your body burned into the back of his eyelids. 

He was doomed. 

And he still needed to pee. 

Damnit. 

It was about nine at night when the low voices transformed into booming laughter, the walls practically vibrating under the barrage of stomping feet. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that they’d finished up on their project— either that or they mutually reached the end of their attention spans. 

Regardless, you were bored of remaining cooped up in your bedroom merely for the sake of your roommate’s econ grade and needed to stretch your legs a bit. Not to mention you were beginning to crave something greasy and unhealthy. You were almost certain the group of college boys lounging in your living room wouldn’t be opposed to some pizza, fries, and milkshakes from your favorite delivery place. 

“I don’t know about you boys but I’m starving!” You sang brightly as you all but skipped into the room. All eyes swung to you, wide and stunned as they watched you waltz over to where Mark sat in the love seat and throw yourself into his lap like it was the most normal thing in the world. He grunted under your weight, lip curling in annoyance but wrapped his arms securely around your stomach nonetheless. You pretended not to notice the lingering eyes of one particular boy, meticulously curled into the farthest corner of the couch. “Anyone down to order?” 

“Ugh please!” Yukhei exclaimed, throwing his head back dramatically. “I am dying of hunger.” 

The others were eager to voice their own agreement and you turned to Mark with an expectant smile. “Rubio’s?” He asked, already reaching for his phone. 

“Read my mind.” You hummed, pinching his cheek until he hissed and swatted you away. 

It was nothing short of chaos trying to get everyone’s orders, multiple overlapping voices making it hard to discern exactly who was asking for what, but somehow Mark managed to place all of the requests with only a handful of difficulties. Well, all but one. 

“Taeyong.” 

The boy’s head jerked up so fast at the sound of his name that you were surprised you hadn’t heard something crack. Up until then he’d been sitting quietly with his knees to his chest, staring at his feet, pointedly avoiding looking in your general direction. He could only hold your gaze for a few tense seconds before his cheeks flamed and he dropped his eyes. 

“I– uh– y- yes?” He coughed, blinking hard. 

You tilted your head, offering him an innocent smile. “Is there anything you’d like to eat?” You couldn’t stop yourself from adding an unnecessarily suggestive pitch to the question, words dancing wickedly across your tongue. 

Taeyong swallowed and pulled his knees tighter to his chest. “I– I’ll just have some of the- the pizza.” The words tumbled clumsily out of his mouth and your grin only widened as he became more and more flustered under the heat of your persistent stare. 

“Perfect. Then we can share.” 

The poor boy nearly choked on air when you abruptly pushed yourself off of Mark and sauntered over to where he sat, squeezing in between him and an eager Yukhei, who was more than happy to make room for you. His entire body went rigid, brief panic shooting across his features as you made yourself comfortable. It was tight with Jaehyun, Lucas, Taeyong and now you all squished onto the couch, so you were practically flush against him, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. You pretended not to notice that he was holding his breath. 

“Thirty minutes.” Mark announced, shutting off his phone and shoving it back into his pocket. 

“What should we do while we wait?” Jaehyun asked, ignoring Yukhei as he whined about how he’d be dead of starvation before the food even arrived. 

“Movie?” Haechan suggested. 

You perked. “I know a good one.” 

“No— no.” Mark cut in quickly, pointing a finger with the intention to reprimand in your direction. “Every time you pick a movie it’s either fucked up or really fucked up. So no.” 

“Don’t be a pussy, Mark.” You huffed, wrinkling your nose at him. “Just because you don’t like horror movies doesn’t mean your friends don’t.” 

“I, for one, love a good horror movie!” Yukhei remarked, a smug grin breaking across his lips as he shot a flirtatious wink in your direction. 

Haechan scoffed. “Bullshit! You couldn’t sleep alone for a week after we watched The Shining. And that wasn’t even scary!” 

“There was a tidal wave of blood.” He grumbled defensively, crossing his arms over his chest as he slumped, lower lip jutting out dramatically.

“No tidal wave of blood is this one, promise.” You snickered, snatching the remote from the cluttered coffee table and switching on the television. It only took a few minutes of browsing through Netflix before you finally located the movie you’d saved to your watch list a few weeks ago but had never gotten the chance to watch. 

Marked hopped up to flick off the lights as you pressed play, any excited or nervous murmurs coming to a halt as the opening credits rolled across the screen. Beside you, Taeyong tensed, squeezing his legs even tighter to his chest. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, not missing the nervous way he gnawed at his lower lip even in the darkness. 

“Not good with horror movies?” You hummed, nudging his knee. He flinched in surprise, eyes shooting over to meet yours before he quickly diverted his attention back to the screen. 

“No, not– not really.” He admitted weakly, clearing his throat. 

A playful smirk twirled onto your lips and you subtly leaned into him, whispering near his ear, “you can hold my hand if you get scared.” 

A fierce blush consumed his cheeks, illuminated by the soft grey light of the television. “I– I’ll be okay.” He coughed when his voice cracked and you chuckled under your breath, opting to cut the poor boy some slack… for now. 

The movie progressed with the usual eerie start before transitioning into something lighter, though the low hum of anticipation-building music never ceased. Even if at some point it became rather repetitive, you thoroughly enjoyed a good horror movie. Most of the time, they failed to meet expectations and you left feeling rather disappointed that your stomach hadn’t leapt into your throat any point throughout the film. However, every once in a while, you were pleasantly surprised. 

Now, was not one of those times. 

Boredom quickly settled over you as the plot developed, revealing itself to be almost identical to a number of horror movies you’d watched in the past. You slumped back in your seat, a subtle scowl staining your lips. But then… inspiration. Devious, unquestionably self indulgent inspiration that risked putting a certain someone in a possibly very awkward (but also very delightful) position. 

The slow slide of your eyes from the television over to the boy seated at your left revealed that not everyone found the movie to be boring and repetitive. Taeyong was practically trembling. He had both of his hands over his face, wide, uncertain eyes peeking out timidly from between his index and middle fingers. 

You had to sink your teeth into your lip in order to subdue the large grin threatening to break across your face. 

Fuck, he’s too adorable. 

Unable to resist, you allowed a curious hand to wander towards his leg. With a brush so subtle it could’ve been mistaken for a breeze, you traced a finger over the seam of his pants. But, with his senses on high alert, it wasn’t a sensation he missed. He jolted violently, head swinging in your direction. There was fear in his eyes, but it quickly melted into relief else once he realized it was you and not some demon. 

Then his eyes drifted to where your finger lingered, hovering over his clothed thigh, and the relief transformed into something else entirely. Something hot and shameful and desperate, something he tried to hide behind frantically fluttering eyelids and quivering lips. But it was unmistakable. 

You lifted your brows, a silent question swirling in your gaze. He swallowed, breath coming out in quick, shallow huffs as the unnameable emotion thickened inside of him, then he nudged his leg shyly towards you. The air you didn’t realize you were holding in your lungs rushed out in one quick exhale, a subtle smirk curling onto your lips as excitement swirled in your gut. Taeyong sucked his lower lip into his mouth as your open palm landed boldly on his lower thigh, fingers pressing gently into the clothed muscle just above his knee. 

For a few minutes, it remained there, not moving any lower or any high, simply resting on his leg and he found himself relaxing beneath your touch. The heat of your hand was a welcome –comforting, even– distraction from the horror movie that had progressed to the point in the plot where the reckless characters put themselves directly into the line of danger instead of taking the intelligent path that would help them avoid it all together. You could feel the tension returning to Taeyong’s muscles as suspense building music poured from the surround sound speakers. 

In a two sided attempt to both comfort and tease, you began gently massaging his thigh. His breath audibly hitched, gaze straying from the screen once more in favor of watching the slow, deliberate motion of your fingers squeezing around his leg. That alone was enough to set his long neglected desire to flames. It burned within him, hot and dangerous, turning his face a dark, flattering crimson. 

It was too much. He’d never been touched like this before. You weren’t even close to his crotch and he could still feel the distinctive hardening beneath the zipper of his jeans which were growing tighter and tighter with every passing moment. At this rate, he’d make a mess of himself before the movie even reached its climax. 

The mere thought of coming untouched was enough to make his head feel dizzy, a mixture of humiliation and heady lust licking at his nerves. 

He couldn’t believe he was feeling this way, in a room full of his friends no less. If one of them were to look over, even through darkness, it would be impossible to miss your hand laid across his lap or the feverish blush coating his face, illuminated by the dull light of the tv. 

Then, your hand shifted higher. It was a minute movement, couldn’t have been more than an inch or two. But it had his pulse spiking in his veins nonetheless, blood rushing downward. You gripped gently at the inside of his slim thigh, thumb tracing slow, calculated circles into the rough material of his jeans. He trembled beneath the teasing ministrations, jaw clenched to fight back the urge to moan as your curious touch wandered upwards once more. 

“Is this alright?” 

The question came unexpectedly, a sudden rush of warm breath hitting the curve of his throat. He sucked his lips into his mouth, shivering faintly at the low, rough sound of your voice, just quiet enough that none of the other men in the room could make it out. 

He offered a sharp, jerky nod, desperately heaving in deep breath through his nose. The corner of your mouth curled. 

“God you're shaking. Are you that sensitive? Or do you just get off on getting felt up in front of all your friends? How naughty.” You chuckled tauntingly, words borderline malicious. 

“I– I don’t— I’m not—” he swallowed, shaking his head frantically in denial of your words, despite the flames they ignited inside of him. 

“I think you are.” You purred, tracing your index finger lightly over his prominent bulge, eliciting a strangled moan from his trembling lips. He was fortunate enough that at the very moment the sound escaped, some ditzy bimbo began screaming her lungs out in the movie. Still, he slapped a hand over his offending lips, looking around frantically to see if anyone had heard his slip up. Luckily enough, it seemed they hadn’t. 

This was payback, he realized abruptly, this was payback for walking in on you showering. 

But even if it was— 

It felt too damn good. 

His head tipped back, hand surging to cover his burning face and stifle his whimpers as you suddenly gripped firmly at his clothed length. A low, appreciative hum thrummed through your chest as you felt him twitch, delighting in just how responsive he was to your touch. His thighs squeezed together, hips shuddering upwards as you mapped him out. 

The urge to set your teeth upon his neck was almost overwhelming, but you resisted only because it might draw some attention from the room’s other, currently oblivious, occupants. You doubted Yukhei would miss it, even if he was desperately hiding his eyes behind those astoundingly massive hands. 

But shit was it tempting. 

His pretty porcelain skin would look so good painted in varying shades of pink and red. So sweet and pure… you wanted to taint him. 

He couldn’t stop moving now, squirming and quivering in place. He was unraveling right before your eyes, and you were devouring it. What a sight… 

Warmth stirred in your belly, and you rolled your palm down. He jolted violently, then in the next second he was up on his feet. It happened so quickly that you nearly fell over, just barely catching yourself from falling into the spot he previously occupied. Yukhei shrieked in shock, throwing himself directly into Jaehyun’s lap. 

“Fuck, Taeyong! You almost gave me a heart attack!” Haechan shrilled, clutching a pillow against his chest. Instead of responding, Taeyong jerked forward, the movement sharp and robotic, like his body wasn’t quite caught up to his brain. 

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asked, squinting at him through the darkness. “And why do you look so—” 

“B- B- Bathroom!” Taeyong squeaked out abruptly. You could only watch with wide eyes and gaping lips as he proceeded to run out of the living room like his ass was on fire. 

“Movie must’ve freaked him out.” Johnny muttered. 

“It’s not even that bad.” Yukhei scoffed in a voice too high pitched for his words to sound believable, grunting when Jaehyun shoved him off of his lap. Noisy banter was quick ensue. Noisy and distracting enough for you to make a quick and silent escape without catching any of the other boys’ attention. 

“Taeyong?” You called softly, worry churning in your gut that you overstepped or upset him. “Tae, I’m sorry if I—” you gasped, words cutting off in your throat as a hand found your wrist and you were quickly tugged around the corner and into the unlit hallway. 

The motion was so unexpected you ended up tripping over your own feet, having to slam a hand against the wall to steady yourself. But it was only when you felt a rush of quick, warm breath against your face that you realized the position you’d gotten yourself into. Taeyong was standing in front of you, face flushed a feverish shade of red, faint perspiration glistening on his skin, and he was standing with his spine flush against the wall, effectively caged in by your body. And he was looking at you. 

Really looking at you. 

With the kind of eyes that had something tightening deliciously in the pit of your stomach, chills of excitement ricocheting through your veins. 

“Tae?” His name was less than a breath on your lips, laced with an unspoken question. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, fluttering gaze dancing across your face. 

“I almost…” he swallowed, shivering voice tapering off as he became overwhelmed by the proximity. He could smell your shampoo, a subtle, smoky-vanilla kind of scent that made his head feel dizzy. “I almost c- came.” 

The corner of your mouth swirled, both amused and charmed by the way he whispered the word, tone so innocent and shy that the filthy meaning behind it almost became misconstrued in your head. 

“Do you want to come, Taeyong?” You asked quietly, jutting a knee forward to press between his thighs. He gasped, trembling lips silently caressing the shape of your name as his hands shot forward, clutching desperately onto the sides of your shirt. A shy nod was all he could muster, the words feeling far too dirty to say aloud. But you weren’t satisfied. 

“Say it.” You murmured, nose brushing against his. His breath hitched at the command, warmth flushing through his veins beneath the staggering heat of your dark, hooded gaze. “If you want it, say it. If you don’t, tell me now.” 

“I want it!” He said quickly, only to flush and shrink in on himself, taken aback by his own outburst. Licking his lips, he repeated himself in a much softer voice, “I– I want it.” 

You let out a low hum, curving a gentle hand around his jaw. “Can I kiss you?” 

A shock ran through his body, his wide eyes snapping down to trace to soft lines of your mouth. “Yes.” He breathed, suddenly desperate for a taste of your lips. You didn’t deny him. 

The first brush of your lips against his is light, delicate… teasing. It made his knees tremble, fierce anticipation and wild desire running rampant through him. He opened up for you like a goddamn flower in bloom, melting sweetly when you applied even the slightest bit more pressure. His mouth was soft and warm, his kiss shy. And there was something ever so endearing about the way he clutched at your top like it was the only thing keeping him upright. 

You kept the pace deliberately slow, relishing in the soft moans that fluttered from his chest as you sucked his lower lip into your mouth, gently sinking your teeth into the sensitive flesh. He was wracked by a violent full body shiver when you licked over the seam of his lip. 

God he’s adorable. 

His strong reactions made you wonder if he’d ever been kissed like this before. Or, perhaps, this was a new experience entirely. 

“Taeyong.” He whimpered when you abruptly broke away from the kiss, but you ignored it. “Are you a virgin?” 

His eyes widened, a deep red flooding his cheeks. Then, he nodded, gaze dropping to the floor as the tips of his ears darkened. 

Wicked excitement curled in your gut, heat licking at your veins at the thought of being the first to corrupt such a sweet… innocent… 

“Have you ever been touched before?” 

He shook his head, chest pressing against your with every jagged inhale he drew into his lungs. 

You dipped a hand between your bodies, trailing teasingly down his stomach. “Would you like to be touched?” Your voice had dropped at least an octave, a low, rasping whisper that nearly made him keen. 

“Yes.” A devious grin settled across your lips at the quickness of his reply. Didn’t even need to think that one over, huh? 

You slid your hand over his crotch, feeling his hips buck uncontrollably when you squeezed. “Just looking at you,” you began, toying with his zipper, “I never would’ve guessed what a little slut you are.” 

“I- I’m not a slut.” He whimpered, digging his fingers into your waist. 

“Aren’t you, though?” You popped the button of his jeans. “I mean, take a good look at yourself, Yongie; letting yourself get felt up and teased by your best friend’s roommate while they’re just in the next room over. Seems pretty slutty to me.” 

Taeyong couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped his chest at the degrading word, his cock twitching within the confines of his boxers. Slipping a finger beneath the elastic, you tugged it away from his skin, letting out a playful coo when his weeping pink tip peeked out. The blush on his face intensified tenfold, both of his hands dropping down instinctively to cover himself. But you were faster, snatching his wrists and pinning them against the wall on either side of his head. 

“Don’t even think about it.” 

Shivering, he offered a compliant nod. 

“Good boy.” 

He barely had time to form a reaction to the praise before he felt you around him, stroking and caressing. The responding moan that burst from his lips was loud— too loud. You were quick to cover his gaping mouth, successfully muffling the series of succeeding gasps and whimpers. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” you clicked your tongue, watching the way his eyes fluttered and rolled as you tightened your grip around his cock, “you wouldn’t want your hyungs to find out what a little slut you’re being, now would you? Mark was so kind, inviting you into his home… How do you think he’d feel if he were to see you taking advantage of his hospitality, getting your pretty little cock played with by his roommate? How shameless...” 

Taeyong whimpered, and you felt the gentle press of his lips against your palm, followed by a meek flick of his tongue. He was looking at you now, really looking at you, with the kind of pathetic, wanting eyes that never failed to make your skin burn in excitement. You wondered if you could make him cry, overwhelm him with pleasure to the point where he couldn’t keep his emotions at bay. The desire to ruin him was almost unbearable. 

Swirling your thumb over his tip, you slotted a leg between his, pressing up against him from underneath. He nearly keened at the pressure, hips rolling greedily over your thigh, simultaneously pumping his cock into your closed fist. Heaven, this must be heaven. Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to succumb to his desires so readily, with such… enthusiasm. But this Taeyong surprised you at every turn. You’d thought he’d be shy, reserved, hesitant to give in, but here he was, riding your thigh and fucking your hand like his life depended on it, his muffled moans pulsing beneath your palm. 

It’d be a flat out lie to say you weren’t beyond turned on. 

There was a slick warmth building between your thighs, soaking into the fabric of your underwear, and tight knots in your stomach, threatening to burst at any given moment. The knowledge that less than thirty feet away, your roommate and all his friends were gathered and one stray moan from the crumbling man before you could give away all the filthy things you were doing to him stroked the lustful flames blazing through your blood. One glimpse into those hooded, glassy brown eyes told you he was suffering from a similar burn. 

“Turn around.” You demanded, somewhat breathless as you tore your hands off of him. A low whimper escaped past trembling lips at the loss of stimulation, a shiver rippling down his spine as his hard, abandoned cock swung through empty air. Regardless, he was quick to comply, spinning himself around and pressing his palms flat against the wall. You hummed a praise, pleased with his eager compliance, rewarding him with your touch. He gasped, forced to sink his teeth into his lip to stifle his whimpers as your hands slipped over his body: one returning to stroke his dick while the other pushed beneath the material of his top, venturing up to his chest where your fingers set to toying with his sensitive nipples. 

“(y/n)—” he moaned your name desperately, rocking his body back against yours as overwhelming pleasure pulsed through his veins. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” you chuckled darkly, splaying a steadying palm across his hips as they began grinding back into yours, “you sound like you're about to burst.” 

He moaned, shuddering when you caressed his sensitive tip, and an idea struck you. 

“Can you do something for me, Tae?” You asked, voice a low, rasping against the shell of his ear. “Can you suck?” 

Any short lived confusion dissipated from his mind when he felt your fingers nudging at the soft flesh of his lips. A deep blush flooded into his cheeks, but his mouth opened nonetheless, shyly taking your digits inside. 

“There you go…” you purred, feeling his tongue lick delicately at the pads of your middle and ring finger. He sucked, and you lowered your head to press slow, encouraging kisses laced with whispered praises to the juncture of his throat. You felt the soft vibrations of his muffled moans quivering through your knuckles and against your lips. He was shaking, the stimulation to his cock causing violent tremors to wrack his body. He wasn’t far off from release, you could tell as much by the way he was twitching and the slow increase in volume of his sounds. 

But you weren’t finished yet. 

Not by a long shot. 

You pulled your fingers from his mouth, the suction of his lips giving with a lewd, wet pop. A filthy sound coming from such innocent lips. 

Leaning forward, you nipped gently at the shell of his red tinted ear, hand releasing his dick in favor of venturing beneath the hem of his pants. You heard his breath hitched and offered quietly, “Tell me if you want me to stop.” 

Taeyong nodded in understanding, but offered no resistance as you pushed the thick denim down over the soft curve of his ass. His shoulders jumped, a gasp shooting from his lips when you slid a saliva soaked finger between his cheeks, coming to the abrupt realization of what your intentions were. 

“O– oh—” 

“Is this alright?” 

He swallowed, glancing back at you from over his shoulder. “I– I’ve never…” 

You soothed a hand down the front of his thigh, “it’s okay if you don’t want to.” 

There was no judgement in your tone, rather a gentleness to the reassurance that put his buzzing nerves at ease. “That’s not it,” he shook his head, gnawing at the corner of his lip as a soft pink crept across his cheeks, “j– just…” 

“Just?” 

Taeyong drew in a deep, trembling breath. Your furrowed brows shot to your hairline, heat twisting in your gut as he suddenly bent himself over, sticking his ass out, practically fucking presenting himself to you. “B- be gentle…” he whispered shyly, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. 

Steam would surely start coming out of your nose if your temperature rose any further. This is fucking ridiculous. How was it possible for a man to be so cute yet so sexy all at once? This couldn’t be good for your health… 

Smirking deviously, you settled a palm between his shoulder blades, pressing down ever so slightly and watching as he delicately arched his spine. “I’m always gentle.” 

A hiccuping moan rushed from his chest at the first careful press of your finger, his brows furrowing deeply as his muscles tightened in response to the foreign stretch. 

“Relax, sweetheart.” You reminded lightly, settling soothing kisses across his shoulder. He drew in a series of deep breaths, allowing himself to adjust to the sensation of having something inside of him while melting into the tender caress of your cool lips across his feverish skin. You felt the slow dissipation of tension, felt the way he melted beneath you. “There you go…” you cooed, easing into him until your knuckle before allowing him a few moments to adjust. 

He was panting, forehead thudding softly against the wall as his hips trembled, a strange but not unpleasant feeling sparking to life inside of him. 

“Oh…” it was a barely audible sound, soft and breathless of shuddering lips. But you didn’t miss it, didn’t miss the way his shoulders drooped, his walls tight relaxing ever so faintly around the intruding digit. The corner of your mouth curled upwards in a salacious smirk, and you curled your finger experimentally. 

His reaction was instantaneous, a moan of surprise entwined with unexpected pleasure rushing from his flush throat. He glanced back at you from over his shoulder, eyes wide and trembling, hazy with an emotion you immediately recognized as pure, unfiltered lust. Your grin widened, almost triumphant as you whispered, “feel that?” 

He nodded rapidly, a gasp of breath wracking his chest. “Yes,” his hands were curling into fists where they were braced against the plaster wall. 

“Wanna feel it again?” 

The sound he let out was a combination of several things, keening and desperate for the sensation he’d never before experienced. “Please. Please.” 

It was impossible to say anything but yes when he begged like that. 

You rewarded him by stretching him out around a second finger, his knees nearly giving out when you thrust them in as deep as they would go. He was an absolute mess, forced to slap a quivering hand over his gaping mouth when his teeth proved insufficient at keeping his sounds in. You were enjoying yourself perhaps a little too much, enjoying watching him slowly crumble, enjoying watching his innocence shatter into tiny irreparable pieces on the floor beside glistening drops of precum. He was just too irresistible… 

“You’re about to come, aren’t you?” He was nodding before you even finished the question, muffled moans and sobs escaping through his fingers as he fucked himself back onto yours. You curve a hand around the shape of his jaw, tugging his head back at an angle that surely causes a strain in his neck, and slot your lips into his. Shoving your tongue down his throat proves a far more efficient means of keeping him quiet. 

But when you curled your fingers inside of him, subsequently stroking that sensitive bundle of nerves, even your mouth wasn’t enough to stifle the shriek of pleasure that burst from his throat. You were hoping the screams you heard emulating from the other room were enough to drown it out. 

“Keep your voice down.” You all but snarled, curling a hand around his throat. 

“I- I can’t— oh god, it feels so g- good.” He babbled, voice strained from the sheer effort of trying to keep himself from crying out in bliss. “I’m g- gonna come— I’m gonna c- come—” the sound of him choking on his words, gasping for breath around the added resistance of your restricting hold was even hotter than you imagined it would be. 

“Gone on, sweetheart. Let me see you make a mess of yourself.” You kissed the shell of his ear, deciding then to have mercy and offer his pathetic, weeping cock a helping hand. He was finished the moment your fingers grazed his tip, struck with an orgasm so powerful it had his knees buckling beneath the weight of his quivering body. 

His jaw when slack, unleashing every pent up sound he’d managed to keep bottled up thus far. They came rushing out of him too quickly to stop, not that you made much of an effort. You were enjoying the way he was moaning your name like it was his saving grace far too much to care whether or not the other boys were hearing. In fact, the thought of them hearing their sweet, innocent Taeyong whimpering like a bitch in heat, moaning your name, gave you an unexpected rush of delight. 

You didn’t stop fucking your fingers into his tight little hole until you were certain you’d milked him for all he was worth, until he was reduced to little more than a trembling, whimpering mess against your chest, barely able to keep himself upright. 

“Oh my g- god.” He murmured shakily, head falling back to rest on your shoulder. 

A low chuckle slid from your lips as you gently released his spent cock, simultaneously pulling out of him. He winced faintly, whining weakly at the unpleasant emptiness that ensued. 

“That felt pretty good didn’t it?” You teased. 

He bit his lip, humming airily as he melted into your hold. 

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Taeyong?” Your words danced over the curve of his throat, flooding his senses with the fluttering implication. Blushing, he nodded, a shy bob of his head that caused the sweat soaked fringes of his bangs to fall over his eyes, clinging delicately to his pretty eyelashes. “Words?” 

“I—” he swallowed, gaze flitting as his face reddened further, “I’m a g- good boy.” 

You mouth curled deviously. Holding your come covered hand up to his panting mouth, you whispered against the shell of his ear, “good boys clean up their mess.” 

His breath hitched, wide eyes jumping over to meet yours. You held his gaze boldly, cocking an expectant brow. Then, ever so lightly, his tongue dipped out from between red bitten lips, kitten licking his come from your fingertips. You could’ve come right then and there, watching him shyly lap his own release from your hand. Honestly you would’ve been happy to stay like that all night, his tongue tracing the lines of your palm, caressing your knuckles… 

But then the doorbell rang, and someone cleared their throat in the other room. 

“Uh… foods here.” 

Taeyong leapt away from you with a gasp, flushing deeply as his hands flew to tuck himself back into his jeans. 

“D- do you think they—” his voice cracked and he coughed as crimson crept up his neck. 

You smirked, not in the least bit ashamed. 

“Oh, definitely.”

A/N; well i dropped off the face of the earth, sorry about that loves. but i think you’ll be happy to know that i have a number of wip sitting in drafts, should i tease the banners? 

[be-gay-do-heists]

hardison/parker || masc day for parker, potentially while on date with hardison

i think it ended up a little more the dysphoria route with this one but i hope this at least touches on what u were looking for!! had a spark of an idea and had to write it :V

---

If it was just the dress, maybe Parker could stand it.

Hardison had won choosing date night this time around, and he had suggested a new restaurant that recently opened up on the other side of town. A nicer restaurant. Which meant fancier clothes and Hardison had said the dress code recommended dresses so. The dress. It had been fine, leaving the brewpub in it to go meet Hardison at the restaurant. It was comfy enough, the fabric had a nice texture, and it was the same kind of green that you could see if you looked sideways at a professionally cut emerald, which was one of their favorite colors.

It was only upon arriving at the restaurant that they realized they really, really, really did not want to be wearing it.

And if it was just the dress, maybe it would be fine. But they were out in public, and Parker had come to understand over the years that if people in public thought they had your gender clocked, you had to act, walk, and talk a certain way if you didn’t want weird stares, unwelcome attention. A performance that they didn’t particularly have the energy for if there wasn’t a con and the promise of a payout at the end of it. The first “miss” they got from the hostess made them twitch, but they made sure to keep their mask up as they saw Hardison, already at the table, who smiled sunnily as they approached and stood to help with their chair. He was wearing his purple suit, the deep plum colored one that reminded them of a bottle full of red wine.

“Wow. You look amazing, I can’t believe you’ve been hiding that dress for so long,” he said as they both sat down. “It’s not one of Sophie’s?” There was a trace of playfulness in his voice.

“No, it’s mine, I didn’t steal it,” Parker replied, latching onto his good mood for stability. They fidgeted, hyperaware of their bare shoulders and the cut of the dress around their torso. “Well, not from her anyways.”

Hardison snorted in that fond way of his. “Hey, it’s not stealing if it looks that good on you. That’s just proper re-appropriation. Anyways, you’re gonna love this place, the whole idea is normal fancy food, boring boring et cetera, but! They change the colors around so it messes with your senses and makes you experience it differently, you get me? I’m talking like green steaks, purple mashed potatoes. Cool, right?”

“Yeah, sounds great,” Parker agreed absently, discreetly hunching a little and hoping Hardison wouldn’t notice. They fiddled with the utensils on the table, which had little chameleons etched on them. That was fun. This was supposed to be fun, they reminded themselves.

“Hey, you ok?” Hardison asked, brows furrowed.

A waiter came up before he could say more. “Welcome, folks, pleasure to have you with us this evening. Can I start you with drinks?” After Hardison, concern still showing in his face ordered a fruity-sounding cocktail, the waiter turned to Parker. “And for the lady?”

They couldn’t help their flinch, knowing that Hardison saw it, and pulled out their most flawless grifting voice to respond. They deflated a little again once the waiter left.

“Shit. I shouldn’t have said dress. I should have specified that you could have worn anything you wanted, who even cares about restaurant dress codes,” the hacker said, rubbing his hands over his face. Parker had to give it to him, sometimes his brain worked faster than his computers, and he was always twice as perceptive. “Is it a they night? A he night?”

Parker shrugged a little apologetically. “I’m not sure. It’s just really, really not a she night.”

“I’m really sorry Parker, I should have checked in before we came,” Hardison sighed, and having him in the loop did actually make Parker feel a little better. “Do you wanna get out of here? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable for any longer than you have to.”

Parker immediately felt bad again. “No, you won date night, you were so excited about this place.”

“Man, don’t even sweat it,” Hardison reassured them, waving a hand. “We can come back some other time when we’re actually feeling it. Or if it’s never the date vibes, I can ask Sophie if she wants to try it sometime. You know she gets a kick out of dressing up and I’m sure she would call this place ‘an exercise in creative expression and reaction’ or something.” He smiled at Parker’s bark of laughter following his terrible impression of Sophie, which made a couple other patrons startle in their seats.

“I don’t really want to be in this dress anymore,” Parker admitted. “Maybe we could go back to the brewpub and do something there?”

“Hey, if I ever refuse a quiet night in, know that I’ve been replaced with a clone or maybe a mind-eating fungus,” Hardison beamed at them, and flagged down the waiter to pay for their drinks with a tip that made the man’s jaw drop, letting Parker lead the way out.

On the ride home, Hardison gave Parker his suit jacket, pretending he was too hot even though it was damp and cold out. It was far too big for the thief and they thought it was kind of ridiculous how it came down to almost their knees, but the broad shoulders on it made them feel good. And the wine color purple was fantastic, even though they thought it looked far better on Hardison. They said as much, and took a silent satisfaction in the way Hardison ducked his chin to hide his face.

Entering back into the safety of the brewpub and the upstairs apartment took a weight off Parker, and they sighed, kicking off their shoes and slipping off Hardison’s jacket to cast onto the back of the couch. Hardison picked up to carefully keep it from creasing with a “heaven help me” kind of look. “You got everything you wanna wear here? Need anything of mine?”

“Mostly, but…” Parker thought aloud. “Could I borrow one of your shirts? The soft ones?”

Hardison nodded fondly. “Sure thing, lemme grab one.” While he was in the bedroom, Parker stripped off their dress like it was burning them, shaking the feeling of it away once it was off. They spotted their good jeans on the chair by the hallway that Hardison liked to call “Parker’s wardrobe,” where all the clothes they had left while over lived, and rushed to put them on. They were comfy and boxy and had a button-up fly. More buttons felt good.

“Incoming,” Hardison’s voice called, and he entered with his eyes covered, tossing a shirt in their direction. Parker jumped to catch it, and quietly approved of his selection, a wooly flannel type. They wiggled it on, tucking it in slightly, and exhaled in relief on how delightfully big it was, draping off the prominent muscles in their shoulders, leaving enough room on their torso so that the fabric wouldn’t cling to them. They rolled up the sleeves to expose their strong forearms, looked down at their broad hands. Yeah, this was much better, they thought, tying up their hair high.

“I’ve still got those canvases from last time, and the same paints, if you wanna do that. Ooh, I just got some good charcoal too if you’d rather sketch,” Hardison was saying, sifting through his art supplies. Parker bounded over and pressed up against his side. He jumped slightly but turned to look at them. “Feeling better?”

“Lots,” Parker hummed.

The hacker took in their outfit change. “And looking damn handsome too. Real suave, James Dean kinda look.” When Parker wryly grinned and crossed their arms, squaring their shoulders and standing tall, he mimed a swoon (Parker could see the slight, genuine flush that rose to his face). “So what do you wanna do tonight?”

“Dunno, it’s still your date night,” Parker replied, putting a little more husk in their voice and enjoying the way they could see Hardison’s thoughts stutter slightly.

He recovered quickly. “Well, all I want is a nice night in with my fella, whatever we do is gonna be more than alright with me.”

Parker felt another glow of joy at the endearment, and moved to wrap their arms tightly around him, one hand coming up to grip the back of the hacker’s neck. “Thanks Hardison. I really mean it.”

Hardison softened a little against their firm embrace. “Of course, I never want you to be uncomfortable. I love you.”

“I know,” Parker responded, and smiled mischievously into Hardison’s shoulder as he sputtered.

“Oh no you did not—“

[stellati0n]

@/datonecanadianartist asked:

A Zhongli x reader where the reader is a chaos magnet like Bennett, but unlike him they refuse to get any help and finally Zhongli tricks them to help them? Many thanks friend!

i hope this is something like what you had in mind :,D

it’s also a little long lmao-

【ｚｈｏｎｇｌｉ】

chaos magnet s/o refuses to get help until they get tricked (ft. Chongyun)

warnings ; haunting

There was only one other person you had heard of who had your level of bullshit, and it was some poor kid who lived in Mondstadt. Apparently the events that would follow you were on par with what he’d experience.

And more often than not, your partner Zhongli would get caught in the cross fire. Treasure hoarders would always know where you are. Zhongli would just send them flying with his monoliths, however. Or maybe you’d get hit in the head by an incoming bird, also knocking into Zhongli in the process. Either way, it’s always a little messy in the end.

He was more concerned for your safety than anything. You miraculously don’t get hurt amidst the chaos, but he isn’t sure how long this is going to last. The last thing he wants is for you to get hurt.

He’s tried to get you to do all sorts of things to try and get rid of this abysmal luck of yours. He’s bought about 30 different charms supposedly imbued with energy to repel bad luck. You refused to carry any.

Another time, you walked into your bedroom with him looking like he was about to start some kind of ritual, just waiting for you to arrive. You scrambled back out the door, not having a bar of it, and he had to chase you for a very long time before he finally caught you.

So those didn’t work.

Zhongli was wandering the streets of Liyue one day, simply wondering what else he could do to try and cure this ailment of yours, if it even was an ailment.

His mind wandered to something Hu Tao was prattling on about to do with mischievous ghosts causing trouble for people in their daily lives. He had overheard her talking about this in passing the other day. Perhaps this was something going on with you.

So he sought the help of an exorcist.

Except given his current track record, no way in hell was he going to be able to get you to sit down and stay still for the exorcist to do their work. So he’d have to come up with a plan to keep you in one place.

"My darling, tonight is a beautiful night in the harbour. Would you perchance go to dinner with me?" He asks you. He hopes he’s not being too suspicious to suddenly ask you to dinner out of the blue.

“Oh, yeah sure. I’ll go get ready.” You say, getting up to get changed into something a little nicer. Your hesitation likely would have come from the fact that he asked you so suddenly. He doesn’t blame you.

When you finally emerge from your room, you look lovely. He really wonders how you always look so good. But a little part inside him feels guilty because what he has planned may ruin your clothes slightly...

You make your way to Third Round Knockout where Zhongli had already made a reservation. The two of you sit and decide what you’ll order. He wants you to eat first before he potentially ruins your evening. Zhongli casts a glance beside him, where the young, blue haired exorcist was sitting eagerly. Zhongli previously told the exorcist his plan. The exorcist was to look like another customer for the time being until Zhongli gives the signal to begin the ritual. Zhongli would take care of keeping you in place so you don’t escape anywhere.

The two of you enjoy a lovely meal together, but you couldn’t help notice that Zhongli has been looking a little fidgety the entire time.

“Are you okay? You’ve been acting suspicious all evening.” You say, finishing your last mouthful of dessert.

Zhongli exhales and opens his eyes to meet yours. He looks very guilty. “I’m sorry for this, but it’s to help you.”

Before you could question what he meant by that, a stone structure had snapped around your waist and arms, keeping you in place. It wasn’t so tight that you couldn’t breath, but you certainly couldn’t go anywhere either.

“Zhongli, what?!”

“Chongyun,” He says. A blue haired youth in white attire jumps up from his chair and quickly summons six talismans in a hexagon, which then fly out towards you.

Everyone else in the surrounding area looks at you. There you were with a stone containment and talismans attached to your head.

“Evil spirit be purged!” The exorcist slams his fist onto his palm and the talismans all quickly dissipate. With a harrowing scream from an unknown source, a weight feels like it’s been lifted off your shoulders.

“Wow! That was my first proper exorcism!” The boy exclaims. An exorcism? You were being haunted?

“What?!” You suddenly cry out. People suddenly look over in your direction.

“Ah, so my theory was correct,” Zhongli says to himself. “It was a malicious spirit following you around.”

“A ghost?”

“Yes. It was quite a potent one too. It managed to resist my pure yang energy enough to not run off in my presence,” The exorcist happily explains. “I don’t know how it got attached to you, but that should be the end of whatever harm it was causing you. Very well, I’d best be on my way now. My services are free of charge!” He says as a final note and walks off, barely containing his excitement of his first proper exorcism.

“Oh thank the gods, I forgot to pay him,” Zhongli mutters under his breath.

“Can you let me go now?” You ask.

“Oh! Yes, right. My apologies.” With a wave of his hand, your rocky constraints dissolve back into the earth.

“Right... Now what the hell was that?”

“I suppose I do owe you an explanation. It wasn’t fair of me to do something without your knowledge, but I had enlisted that exorcist on the chance that there was a ghost causing your abhorrent luck. Such events simply aren’t natural... But it turns out it was true. I’m very sorry for doing all this behind your back. I just don’t want you to eventually get hurt one day. The circumstances you could find yourself in could be perilous, and I don’t want to see the one I love suffer so often. It feels selfish since you didn’t want to do anything, but—“

You cut off Zhongli by placing a finger on his lips. “You don’t need to apologize so much. Thank you for looking out for me. It means a lot to me.” You pull him into a hug. The poor guy looked sad from guilt, so you have to show him he’s not in trouble. “But I won’t be able to have anymore crazy stories.”

“I think you’ve had enough for a life time for now.” He replies.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry XII

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series),egos clashing, mentions of past trauma and violence

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You try to maintain the new peace in your existence.

Note: Honestly this series isn’t really listening to my plans so here you go.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

MASTERLIST

You did not attend the second day of the tournament. Whether it was out of Barnes insecurity or anger or even both was not known. You did not complain for it. You didn’t have any energy for it after all that occured. He did not apologize, nor did he forgive, but he bided you and left in a lighter mood than you’d seen him in for a long while.

He wasn’t competing that day either. Perhaps that eased his stress. You languished in his chambers alone. You paced, you laid down but did not sleep, you sat by the fire then stared out the window. You existed in anticipation of his return.

When he appeared, the sky was a dimming blue. He did not acknowledge you as he kicked off his boots before entering. He rolled his shoulders and picked out a chain to hang around his straight collar. When he finished that, he opened up the wardrobe and selected a fine burgundy velvet piece and draped it over your lap. You watched him as he checked the ring on his finger.

“You will accompany me to the feast,” he stated, “now that we’ve come to an accord, there should not be another scene… isn’t that so?”

“Yes, my lord,” you stood and he helped you dress a piece at a time. The gown was stiff and hot. You chose a black cap trimmed in gold to pair with it and he offered you a chain link necklace to wrap around your throat. He eyed you up and down and peered out between the curtains.

“We will be late,” he said as he came back to you, “sweeting,” he poked his tongue between his lips as he considered you, “this morning…” his lashes lowered as he thought, “I was irrational last eve. Tonight should not be so… hostile. I long to start anew.”

“As you wish, my lord,” you agreed, “I never intended any acrimony between us. I’ve only served you--”

“Serve,” he shook his head, “I do not want you to serve me,” he took your arm, “I’d prefer you… care for me. Be with me in more than your deeds.”

“How were the games today, my lord?” you eluded him.

“Entertaining… well, for a time. By the finale, I was rather bored of it,” he shrugged, “I also did not say but you will sit with me this night. The king, my sister truly, has seen to it.”

You let him lead you out of the chambers. Lester was there as always, smug in his armour as he watched Lord Barnes direct you down the corridor. You ignored the guard as you always tried to do. He was the reason you were stuck, you’d decided, if he wasn’t so eager to impress his master you would have got away.

That time, you entered the feast hall from the opposite side. You felt Bucky tense as you passed through the doors. You kept your eyes on the floor as he took you up onto the dais among the higher nobles and the king. You couldn’t help but hold his arm tighter.

“You will be fine,” he assured as he drew you along. 

He greeted Lord Rogers in a low voice and pulled out a chair for you to sit. He lowered himself between you and Rogers as King Samuel called to him from the Duke’s other shoulder.

“My lady,” the king raised his already full goblet at you, “we welcome you. We trust Barnes should not be so dour with you near.”

“Your majesty,” you bowed your head and when his attention returned to his queen, Rebecca, Barnes’ sister, you sat back and hid behind her brother. She was even more beautiful than when she’d resided in the castles. She had the same dark hair and those sparkling blue eyes.

You glanced around the hall and your eyes skimmed over those three figures you were trying not to think of. You stared at the table instead as you shook away the memory of May’s warm voice, Benjamin’s quiet comfort, and Peter’s hurt and shock. The previous night still lingered and made you fill rotten and even more displaced. You weren’t dumb enough to believe that any would see you beside the duke and believe you anything but what you were.

“Pardon, my lady,” the chair on your other side shifted and you looked up at the man with the odd accent. You hadn’t seen him before but there were so many faces, you couldn’t have recalled them all, “I believe this is my seat,” he clung to the seat next to yours, “I only did not want to startle--”

“Don’t talk to her!” Barnes hissed from your other shoulder and stood with a scrape of his chair. He squeezed your shoulder and uttered under his breath, “do not entertain this man.” He turned and flagged down Samuel with an angry wave, “what is this? For what purpose is he here?”

“Buck,” Samuel lowered his cup and stood. He walked behind the chairs until he reached the stormy duke, “the war is over. He was sent as assurance of that. We are allies now.”

“I should throttle him where he stands,” Barnes growled.

The other man sat coolly and signaled for his goblet to be filled, entirely unconcerned with the ravenous lord snarled at his throat.

“You will not. I cannot send him back dead and indeed, I do intend to send him back better than,” Samuel chided, “now sit and bide your tongue and your wrath.”

“He--” Barnes huffed then clamped his lips shut. You’d seen him angry but never like that. “You would sit him near me.”

“It was an unfortunate oversight. Perhaps Rogers might allow you to relocate--”

“No, no,” Barnes sneered and dropped into his chair, “your priorities have been understood.”

“I’ve allowed you a lot,” Samuel lowered his voice as he leaned over Barnes’ chair, “don’t make me rescind all my kindness.”

Barnes grumbled like a petulant child and reached for his cup. When it was empty he slammed it down and snapped his fingers for a servant. You looked around, your natural response was to do it yourself but you did not move out of fear. You were between two men with an obvious and intense distaste for each other.

“Apologies, lady, I cannot fault him his distrust--”

“Don’t talk to her,” Barnes pointed at the man as a servant stood at his other shoulder to pour his wine, “I will not warn you again. Her nor I will have a word from you.”

The man laughed and drank from his own cup and shrugged. He winked at you as you eyed him and he considered you a long while after. Barnes reached over and grabbed the arm of your chair to drag it closer to his. 

He whispered in your ear, his breath tickling your skin, “he is a villain and you will not indulge his want of menace.”

“Yes, my lord,” you murmured as his hand went to your arm and searched out your hand from the folds of your sleeve. He shook as he twined his fingers between yours. He was more than angry, he was more upset than he’d ever been.

🏰

Barnes dragged you from the hall as the dancing commenced. He’d been agitated throughout the dinner and you let him stew in it rather than say or do anything that might provoke him. You didn’t know who that man was but his accent hinted at a former adversary, perhaps in one of the campaigns that the duke fought in years ago. You wouldn’t ask, that would be stupid.

That night, he was uninterested in your body beyond holding you close. He was still wound tight and fidgety. When you woke, he was already risen and half-dressed. He was shirtless and his arm remained on the chest where he’d left it. He sat on the bench and looked to it.

You got up and lifted his arm. It was heavy but you managed. You wondered how he could bear it every day. The thoughts swirled in your mind as you thought that no one would think less if he only pinned his sleeve. He was a veteran, a hero to many, he shouldn’t be ashamed. 

Then you caught yourself as you approached him. He was awful. You shouldn’t pity him, you hated him. You helped him strap on the artificial appendage and silently buckled the straps. He groaned and pushed his head back as you finished.

“You should dress. You’ll do well to watch the games with me. Tomorrow I will be competing again and you will have to attend alone… though I did think to send Lester with you or another,” he said as you helped him into his tunic.

You acquiesced and pulled out a pale gown in a gentle robin’s egg blue. He helped you in turn and you stood before him ready to play your part. He sat and handed you a comb to help with his hair and you pulled it back behind his head and bound it with a thin tie. He almost purred as you did and when you finished he pulled your hand down onto his shoulder.

“We should away. Break our fast and go early to the stands. A box is reserved for me and you would not have to sit amid the masses,” he bid as he rose, “I trust you know what is expected of you now.”

“You, only you,” you assured him, “I will not wander again, my lord.”

“I will not tolerate it again,” he warned, “but I trust you, sweeting.” He pulled you to the door and his hand slipped to grope your through your skirts, he turned and bent to kiss you hungrily, “this will be over soon,” he drew away, “and we will return to our home.”

🏰

The box was much nicer than the crowded stands. The benches there were cushioned and only held several lords and ladies. The king was competing in the ax-throw and his queen observed in the box with two of her ladies, Marguerite and Tess, you and Barnes shared a bench but he was hardly interested in the games, and Lord Rogers paced behind the seats as Lord Stark boasted about the axes he’d designed for the tournament.

“Barnes,” Stark called to the duke, “I should have your saddle modified for your use on the morrow but some questions remain.”

Barnes sighed and touched your arm as he spoke quietly to you, “I swear he is so concerned, he is up to some trick with it.” He stood and walked around the bench to sit with Stark, “questions?”

“I have it…” Stark reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded page, “these are sketches of what I’ve done but I did wonder for some practical attunements given your… needs.”

The duke sniffed and looked over the drawings and you focused on the field as the targets were arranged further away than the previous round. You were startled as you sensed movement and you rose as Rebecca came near. She waved you off and sat beside you.

“Forgive me, I haven’t had a chance to see you,” she said sweetly, “I do remember you… lady, now, is it?”

“No, not really,” you ran your thumb down your palm, “your majesty, he bid me here, I know it is not proper--”

“My brother is stubborn, do not apologize for that for I am certain you suffer for it,” she trilled, “and he is peculiar but somehow I was not surprised at how he has… taken to you.”

“Your majesty,” you dipped your chin down as you listened.

“I imagine it must be lonely. You don’t know anyone and how could you? It is a poorly kept secret what you are, and I say that without condemnation, but he has thrust you into an unkind position,” she continued.

“I serve your family as I always have,” you replied.

“Your mother… she’s a pleasant woman, I always liked her. She used to bring up my linens and she had the most friendly face. How does she fare?”

“She died,” you uttered, “she had a growth in her neck and… she could not be saved.”

“I am very sorry, I didn’t--”

She pushed her shoulders back. She reminded you of her brother in her posture but she was kinder than him. She peered around the arena and nodded to herself as she thought. She peeked back at Barnes and you did too. He was irritated as Rogers had closed him in on the bench and both lords seemed to be working to stoke him.

“I must admit I did not see to you purely out of sentiment of our shared past,” she continued, “there was none in that hall last night who did not feel my brother’s spite or notice the man who earned it.” You blinked at her as you met her gentle eyes. Her smiled fell and she touched your sleeve, “he has afforded you quite the wardrobe but perhaps I might see to something more of the fashion.”

“That man,” you urged, “who was he?”

She chuckled darkly and lowered her chin, “forgive my distraction. That man is Baron Helmut Zemo,” she spoke in barely a whisper, “he fought in the campaigns… against my brother and my husband.”

You watched her nervously. You were still a kid when Barnes went off to war with his banner and you remembered his return, how none had seen him for years after as he hid away with his wounds.

“He dealt the blow that took my brother’s arm,” she quivered, “I warned Samuel it was tenuous to bring him here but… in the name of diplomacy it cannot be avoided. I only want you to know because you deserve that and it would help in dealing with my brother's moods… perhaps. I don't think anyone has ever truly understood how."

"Oh, uh, thank you, your majesty," you looked across the field as metal crashed into wood, "I suppose it is better that I know."

"Better you know and stay clear of the Baron," she said, "and for me, keep my brother from him as well. We cannot afford another war on the back of his grudge."

"I… how--"

"You do not see it but you hold a power over him. We both know his reputation; unsociable to say the least," she laughed lightly, "keep his mind from Zemo until he is gone, there are better things he could think on."

She stood with a last smile and you watched her skirts flow behind her. You kept your head up and your eyes down on the figures below. You did your best not to wince as her show of kindness became apparent for what it was. She was like her brother in more than just her looks. She was using you for her own means, that was all these nobles could see in others.                           

[aspiringauthorintraining]

Take Me Out (2/2)

(A/N): ehem, this second part’s a little steamy (by my standards lol)

Part 1 here!

______

The next time you had found yourself in the king of curses’ domain, it was the first time you properly saw him in his physical form. 

“You could at least be a little nicer to me, Sukuna.” you expressed your disappointment of not being greeted warmly by the curse when you had made your way to the bottom of his throne of skulls. “I accepted your date even without seeing what you looked like first. The least you could do is say hi the first time we meet officially.”

Leaning on the side of the throne with his chin rested on his hand, he clicked his tongue at you.

“I should just kill you right now and get it over with.”

But you weren’t even listening, too distracted with staring at Sukuna’s appearance. Having always talked to the curse on Yuuji’s cheek, his physical form was unfamiliar to you. 

You unconsciously bit your bottom lip when your eyes trailed down his body, taking in every one of its features. Even though most of his torso was covered by the robe, anyone could tell he had a fit physique. Your appreciative stares seemed to further inflate his already large ego, prompting him to suddenly rip apart his white robe to properly showcasing his form.

Not that you were complaining. Not one bit.

Watching your still-dazed look with a pleased grin, he teleported down from his throne to where you were standing. 

“I knew you were stupid, but I didn’t think you were a pervert as well.” Sukuna smirked, smugly. 

Unknowingly, you swallowed at the sudden close proximity. It took everything in you not to reach out and touch his abs that were presented before you. 

After realizing you weren’t going to tear your eyes away from his chest anytime soon, Sukuna grabbed your chin with two fingers, pointing your face upward towards his.

“Eyes up here, woman.” he ordered you.

Meeting his eyes, you gulped at the look in them. And your breath hitched when his gaze flitted down to your lips.

A second later, his lips came down on yours.

Your eyes widened at the sensation of his mouth devouring yours, but it didn’t take long for you to adjust to the situation. You could feel him smirk when you returned the kiss with equal fervor. 

One of his hands wrapped around the back of your head, the other around your waist, pulling you in closer. Whatever space there was between the two of you was nonexistent now. Even when the two of you pulled apart in order for you to breathe, he didn’t let go of his hold on you. 

The room was filled with your heavy pants when the two of you finally broke away from each other. 

Sukuna observed your dazed look and swollen lips with a satisfied look on his face. It was the first time you were the flustered one, unable to say anything.

And when the strong force pulled at his consciousness, yanking him back to his designated resting corner in Yuuji’s brain, a devious plan brewed in his mind.

_____

Unbeknownst to you, something had been brewing in Sukuna’s mind ever since your previous encounter with him. And on the next assignment you had with the brat, he was going to put the plan into action.

But when the opportunity came the following week, he was met with the sight of you laying on the ground, clutching your stomach in pain. A steady stream of blood was seeping through your fingers, while a smaller trail leaked from the corner of your mouth. Cackling from an unidentified curse was heard over your coughing of blood, the laughter mocking the current state your were in.

At the sight of your injuries and loss of blood, Sukuna’s brows furrowed. He didn’t comment on your situation, instead choosing to direct his attention to the curse that was celebrating your currently wounded state.

When the curse noticed Sukuna’s glare, it flinched under his gaze. 

Realizing who had just entered the room and knowing the obvious outcome if it stayed in the king of curses’ presence any longer, the weaker curse tried to make a run for it. But before it could it could take a step back, its body was slashed into large chunks- thick, black liquid pooling on the ground from the sudden dismemberment. The head of the curse, fully detached from its body, dropped to the floor; briefly rolling a few feet away before coming to a stop on the side of its cheek.

Sukuna grinned in satisfaction as he watched the curse’s dark blood spew out from the its mouth. He neared the now detached head, shoes scrunching from all the blood on the floor. 

“You touched what’s mine.” he stated, with a psychotic smile.

Now, unable to attempt any form of escape, the bloodshot eyes on the severed head widened in terror at the stronger curse in the room. 

Placing a foot on the dismembered head, Sukuna’s smile dropped. 

“Now you’ll die.” 

All of the dismembered body parts were suddenly engulfed in burning cursed flames- and despite being detached to the rest of it’s body, the curse was able to feel the pain of each lick of fire. 

The curse’s face scrunched in pain from the pressing on it’s head from Sukuna’s foot, An only watch as all its body parts were suddenly engulfed in burning red flames, feeling the pain of each lick of the fire despite being detached to the rest of its body. 

Once the fire dissipated after there was nothing left to burn, Sukuna pressed down heavily on the dismembered head; a series of crunches sounding from beneath his foot until nothing stood in the way between his shoe and the floor.

A cough brought Sukuna’s attention back to you.

You hadn’t moved from your original spot, still laying down on the floor; struggling to take in a breath without coughing. He teleported to where you were, the weak curse now out of the way.

A trail of red leaked from the hand you had used to cover your mouth with. And the bright liquid stained the shirt you wore, darkening the white fabric with each drop.

“I guess I’m not going to be able to make it to our date.” you chuckled weakly, staring up at him. Your lips were coated with a mix of dried and fresh blood.

“You’re not going to die.” Sukuna muttered. “I told you, I’m going to be the one who kills you.” 

Placing a hand out, he used the Reverse Cursed technique to direct his cursed energy into sealing up your gaping wounds. In an instant, you were healed. Well, for the most part. The pain from the previous wounds still lingered in your nerves and there was the fact that you had lost quite a good amount of blood, causing your head to spin when you tried to stand up.

Your whole body groaned in protest as you forced your legs to support the rest of your weight; swaying a bit before grabbing onto the nearest stable thing- which was Sukuna. He didn’t seem to mind too much being used as a substitute for a wall, seeing as you weren’t pushed back onto the ground by him.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” you said, clutching your spinning head with a moan. 

The overwhelming presence of iron from the blood on your lips left a bad taste in your mouth. You leaned further onto him for support, trying to avoid looking at spinning floor by closing your eyes.

“Don’t throw up on me, woman.”

You breathed in and out deeply, trying to ignore the pungent smell of blood filling your senses, instead focusing on the musky scent coming from the person in front of you. You wondered if the scent belong to him or Yuuji, since the body technically belonged to the latter of the two.

“Distract me, then.” you replied without thought. 

Expecting another monologue on ways he was going to murder you in cold blood, you mentally braced yourself. 

But to your surprise, he remained silent. Instead, he grabbed your chin, lifting it up to his face.

Your eyes opened blearily in an attempt to figure out what his plan was.  Focusing your blurry, spinning vision, your eyes fixated on the suspicious smirk on his face. Before you could deduce where you had seen the specific smirk- without warning, he enveloped your lips with his own. And when he finally let you breathe, your were sure your head was spinning for a different reason than before.

He held your gaze with dark eyes, making a show of licking some of your blood that had gotten on his bottom lip. The action should have disgusted you, but you could only react with a hard swallow.

You gave him a questioning look when the smirk on his face quickly morphed into a frown. It was when the black marks decorating his body began fading away, that you realized Yuuji was regaining control of his body again.

“(Y/N)-senpai, are you okay?” Yuuji’s face turned into worry after registering your current appearance. “Sukuna wasn’t the one who did this to you, was he?”

You shook your head, giving your kouhai a reassuring smile. 

“No, just the opposite actually.”

“That’s a relief!” Yuuji gave a sigh of relief, completely clueless of what had just happened.

___

It seemed Sukuna had finally come up with the best way to kill you off. 

The cause of your death; prolonged loss of breath due to kissing. Whether this method was going to be effective or not, Sukuna was definitely attempting to find out through a series of experimentations. 

The moment that Sukuna was able to take control of his host’s body, he would seek you out wherever you were on campus, and you somehow always ended up sandwiched between him and a couch, or a wall, or the floor, or a bed, etc. After a round of suffocating you with his lips, he would allow you to catch your breath for a brief moment, giving you the false hope that you could finally breathe like a normal person.  Once he deemed you had breathed enough to continue, he would attack your lips once again, repeating the cycle right until he was forced to hand the reigns of control back to Yuuji.

To say that you tried stopping him would be a blatant lie. Besides, if he was always locking lips with you during his time of control, it meant he wasn’t out somewhere on a killing spree or committing mass genocide of some kind. It was a difficult(?) sacrifice, yes, but one that you were very willing to take for the greater good.

“Mffm- Su-“ you words were again interrupted by his addicting lips. 

Before you could succumb to his temptation for the fifth time that hour, you placed your hands firmly against his cheeks, pulling them away from your face.

“Sukuna, I need to go or I’m going to miss my flight.” you tried to convince him.

But your words fell on deaf ears, as he swatted away your hands, trying to near your lips again.

“Miss it then,” he grumbled.

It took all of your willpower to back away out of his enticing reach.

“As much as we would both like me to stay,” you laughed at his scoff of denial, “my flight leaves in an hour.”

You couldn’t help but grin at him, his disgruntled look resembling somewhat of a childish pout.

“Fine then, get lost.” he griped, but didn’t make a move to get off of you.

“Is that really your parting words to me?” you jokingly frowned. “What if I die out there, Sukuna? This is your last chance to leave behind no regrets and finally confess your secret love for me.”

“I’m the one who’s going to kill you, woman. I’ll confess my undying love for you then.“ he said sarcastically.

“So you do love me.” 

“Tch.” Sukuna rolled his eyes at your cheekiness. “Just don’t get killed out there by some weak-ass curse, like last time.”

You patted his cheek gently with a grin. “Don’t worry, I won’t miss our date. I’m looking forward to it too much to die now.”

He sighed once again at your flirtation, now used to your teasing. He motioned to get off from you, but was stopped by a tug on his shirt. 

He raised a brow at your hand gripping down onto his clothing. “You just said you had to leave, woman. Make up your mind.”

“I guess I could catch one of the later flights.” you reasoned with a grin.

And this time you were the one reaching for his lips. 

___________________________

*(A/N): hehe, this was supposed to be angsty but then somehow it ended up like this lol. anyways, thank you for reading~ ^^

[little--ghost]

Ghost rlly didnt get taught by anyone how to deal w/emotions in the end, so they’ve been trapped in the cycle of suppressing emotions -> letting it spill out (be it mainly through anger and/or aggression, while usually directed toward enemies they Have hurt Azu before) -> temporary calm -> repeat again

and on one hand they’re constantly stressed and tired and irritated and if anyone looks at them they might just kill

but on the other they’re so exhausted they dont have that energy To b mad. Sometimes it spills into sadness, and they’ll cry their heart out in a corner hidden well away from the rest of the world

thoughts weren’t helping them either, after what Echo had done to survive. They knew it was inevitable, but they didn’t think it would’ve hurt so much for so long. So they tried to pretend it wasn’t that bad.

they’ve hurt Azu w/an outburst once, physically. And seeing what was done they fled till they were found again after a lot of searching. Azu didn’t really know what to think of it, seeing they didn’t understand emotions zirself. Though ze didn’t think too much of it at least

Ghost was always afraid of abandonment. That their siblings would leave them too, someday. Somehow. They never spoke of it, but it always lingered. So one day they fled Hallownest, alone, speaking only once of their apparently want to adventure. In truth they probably figured if they left now, they didn’t have to deal w/the inevitable hurt when their siblings left them too. It was never true in the first place though. Azurite was worried sick when Ghost left suddenly, not knowing ever where they’d gone. Azu thought ze did something horrible

Ghost hates crying, they hate feeling vulnerable and/or weak. Being weak always threatened to have them killed back in the palace after all. They want to hide away forever away from everyone else but crave the love and warmth from their siblings at the same time but could never seem to decide what they actually wanted. So they never decided

they couldnt really help it, after winning the fight against Azu aft ze was infected in the basin. After Azu had remarked how happy ze was to see them again before ze went back to sleep. They definitely stayed and cried for quite a while, even if ze was possibly still around still as a shade. Though bc of the infection ze probably couldn’t recover fully until it was gone

Voidheart finally let them return to face when Echo had surpassed them in their last test, and they probably cried there too. Though mayb they did finally accept that somehow, everything that’s happened. Mayb not fully accept their feelings just yet but there was probably something at least

nobody’s told them still how to deal w/anything. Though ultimately none of the siblings overall know either. But I like to think they figured at least sharing some of it w/each other felt nicer than being alone by chance

[txdoroki]

hey shawty bae 😏 ur vv swag ily. so anyway- confessing to noya 😳... he’s not used to girls even looking his way and u jus CONFESS ?? asf. and tsukki ?? he’s so sarcastic and mean and he’s like “tf?? yes but what???” omg. UHM BASICALLY- confessing to noya & tsukki hcs :) what do u think 🦦

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSS.

confessing to tsukki, noya, and suga hcs

genre : fluff

fem reader | warnings: none | words: 1.2k

a/n : hehe i love this idea almost as much as i love you <3 I GOT CARRIED AWAY OOPS

tsukki

-so you guys were just walking away from the school quietly together because your mutual friend, yamaguchi, wasn’t there that day

-every now and then he’d fire an insult at you, commenting on how lousy your kicks against the rocks on the pavement were, or about how your posture was slouched.

-he pokes more fun at you than everyone else at the school combined, saying some sort of insult directed at you every five seconds

-he loved how you’d always fire right back at him with another insult, a playful glint in your eyes

-even though you both had met off of yamaguchi, you had sort of became friends

-although you didn’t know much about him, his insults seemed to clear the path so you could tell what he liked and such

-after a while, you had gotten an attachment to him

-it was like your heart would skip a beat whenever you saw him, even if he just gave you a glare and nod at you from across the halls rather than actually greeting you

-right now, though, you were both walking together to your home. he’d planned to study at your house, even though he didn’t really need to.

-“i knew you with your stupid brain probably forget the assignment for math, so here,” he pulled some papers from his bag once you both had finally gotten to your room.

-this was way nicer than he had been in a while, and you tried to hide the confusion that was clearly showing across your face

-“um, thanks?” you took the papers and flipped through them, glaring at him when you noticed what he had written in the ‘name’ blank already.

-he had wrote, “lowsy y/n”

-he lost it, laughing so hard that tears were in his eyes when you punched his arm

-“wow what a way to treat someone who’s in love with y-“ you muttered, not exactly realizing what you were saying until you abruptly stopped

-you slapped a hand over your mouth and was like

-i did not just say that.

-he, of course, had heard it.

-although he didn’t say anything for a moment, too busy trying to figure out a way to get rid of the redness that was overwhelming his face

-“um, y/n, what?” he chuckled, pushing up his glasses when they began to slip down his nose.

-mans acted as if he wasn’t a blushy mess when he snorted, “well duh, everyone is anyways, you’re not special,”

-like an hour later when he had finally composed himself, after texting yamaguchi panicking, he asked you out ...

-although mans was so awkward in asking you out it was like you hadn’t just told him you loved him

-he first hugged you two weeks later when you complained about him not giving any affection and he was red for the rest of the day

-HE JUST DOESN’T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED OKAY HES CONFUSED AND LIKE BRRRRUUUUUUHHHH HOW

-ofc that asshole doesn’t stop his teasing

-BUT NOW YALL BULLY PPL TOGETHER LMAO IT’S SO FUNNY

noya

-you both always had been sort of flirty with each other, joking about dating and such

-I MEAN WHO CAN BLAME YOU FOR ACTUALLY DEVELOPING A CRUSH YOU BOTH JOKED ABOUT IT SO MUCH IT FELT REAL

-he’d always rant to you about volleyball and you’d be like ٩( ᐛ )و woo go noya go

-you both always listened to each other’s words like they were some law omg the convos were never dry...

-YOU JUST HAD FEELINGS FOR HIM OKAY AND YOU DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO DOOOOOO

-“the ball came over to me when i wasn’t prepared and i went woosh and it was perfect!!” he moved his hands around to show you what he did, smiling at you

-when you just smiled and nodded at him, he was like wtf

-cuz you usually respond so he was like ????

-“hey, noya, what if i told you you’re so cute when you do shit like this,” you winked at him, laughing.

-that way if he rejected you, you could just say it was a joke even though it really wasn’t ...

-he was just like 🤭🤭 for like ten minutes.

-I MEAN HES NEVER HAD SOMEONE CALL HIM CUTE BEFORE HE DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO REACT~~~

-“noya?” you mumbled when he didn’t even respond for a few minutes

-“for real?” he chuckled, preparing himself for you to say no

-when you nodded he PHYSICALLY JUMPED.

-he smiled 10x harder and literally thanked you

-“what?? you’re so cool, y/n! thanks!”

-mans was so nervous you’d take it back that he asked you out then and there

-although he was really worried his energy was making you uncomfy so he pretended to be like daichi and chilled out a bit

-mans was pacing around his house before the date, nervous to see you

-he kissed your hand at the door which was a bit awkward but ... i mean it gave you a lasting memory so ..

-when he saw how gorgeous you looked he literally teared up a bit???? he was like bro??? you’re so out of my league????

-he was goofy the entire date, and never let go of your hand

-was lowkey trying to play off his nervousness and just say that he was super excited. wasn’t a lie but he was literally ignoring the fact that he was bouncing every step

-he brags about you to his entire team like “look who fell for me and not you!! ha!”

suga

-you guys had already been best friends for years. literally you were both in your third years of high school, but had known him since you were six.

-you’d always been conflicted, because he was sort of. touchy. and it played with your heart strings

-that romantic tension that was apparent in all of your conversations- woo

-it made your heart fly whenever he’d give you huge bear hugs whenever he’d get to see you, since you didn’t go to the same schools

-when he had surprised you in your kitchen when you got home from school that day, it caught you off guard

-you’d planned to confess literally that night

-you were watching a shitty romcom with his arm around your shoulder and his other laying on your leg when you whispered, “do you even like me?”

-“of course i like you, you’re my best fr-“

-“no not like that, suga,”

-he was just quiet for a moment as he paused the movie, turning to face you once it was paused.

-he was just. confused.

-he’d had a crush on your for so long he wanted to pinch himself to see if this was actually reality???

-“well yeah, of course i do,” he chuckled and scratched at his neck, his hand that was on your leg not moving.

-your cheeks were heating up so much, your entire body felt like a sauna.

-he continued the movie after asking you out on a date, of course to a picnic. he loved picnics, especially whenever you’d bring strawberries

-you both facetime like everyday since he lives too far to hang out

-long distance 😔👊

taglist @definitelynottrin @travelbythemoon

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[aceofspadegrass]

Yamazaki Joins

Characters: Arisu Ryohei, Yamazaki Kento, Niragi Suguru, Sakurada Dori

Genre: Fluff. Yamazaki has arrived to the Beach!

1.1k words

Arisu steps out from the latest game he had to participate, clutching the card in his hand. It was an easy game tonight, Arisu walking down the street. He wasn’t far from the Beach anyways, so none of the players sent here took the car, instead allowing a stroll through the dark and empty new world they were all trapped in.

“ Hey! Excuse me!” A voice calls out from a distance to the right of Arisu, the man turning his head as a figure came closer. They sounded familiar to him, but he could not pinpoint it. He stops as the person approaches, waving and clearly not seeming to be a danger to him.

The person comes closer, and Arisu stares blankly as his own face looks back at him, although clearly a little more put together, still fresh. The mystery man blinks, eyes wide in recognition, and he smiles, waving again with arm much more closer to his chest than earlier.

“ Hi! I’m a little lost, so…. could you help me?” The man still kept that soft and easygoing smile, Arisu frozen as he tried to rationalize the person in front of him. It was likely that he happened to meet someone who looked eerily similar, but this person even had the same voice tone, although slightly different at the same time.

He still nods though, not seeing a reason to decline the person. There was no harm after all, and by the small sparkle that alights in the mysterious person’s eyes he didn’t seem dangerous.

“ There’s a safe building in that direction. It’s been where I’ve been staying.” Arisu points in the direction of the Beach, the man following his finger and nodding.

“ Okay, let’s go!” The man starts walking ahead, Arisu jogging to follow and help guide the doppelgänger towards the Beach. In the meantime Arisu’s new companion began to introduce himself as Kento Yamazaki, but didn’t explain as to where he’s been, or if he’s entered a game yet. Arisu didn’t think he did, with how jovial Yamazaki was compared to those that have entered at least one game.

The entrance to the Beach left Yamazaki in awe, Arisu watching him look around like a child seeing Christmas decorations at night. Yamazaki was at least coherent enough to continue to follow Arisu through into the building.

“ It’s so nice here!” Yamazaki chirps, Arisu nodding. Yamazaki continues onwards as he began to do a brief exploration of the ground floor, Arisu following him. He couldn’t help but smile a little at how carefree Yamazaki was, wishing he could easily relax like him.

“ Is that…? Hey! Sakurada! Over here!” Yamazaki calls out as he began running as Yamazaki passes a junction, running past a corner. Arisu follows after, turning the corner to see Yamazaki run up to the man that looked like a nicer version of Niragi. Niragi himself wasn’t even that far away either, still with his rifle at his shoulder and staring in obvious confusion at Yamazaki. Arisu meets his eyes not even a second later, Niragi looking away with a hard scoff that moved his shoulders.

The Niragi clone himself, Sakurada, only matched the same pleasantly surprised energy as Yamazaki. “ You’re here too?”

“ I was brought here by him!” Yamazaki gestures to Arisu, Arisu giving Sakurada a smile and nod as a greeting, the taller male looking to Arisu.

“ Oh really? Well what are the chances of that!” Sakurada looks back at Yamazaki, eyes quickly scanning over the other male’s body. “ Are you alright? Hurt anywhere?” Yamazaki quickly shakes his head, one hand lifting up. “ No, I’m fine! Thank you!” He says, reassuring the other. “ I haven’t been in much trouble, just got a little lost out there!”

“ Is that so. Well I’m glad you’re safe and sound, Yama.”

Yamazaki smiles, then looks at Niragi, bowing his head. “ Hello! You’re Niragi, right?”

“ What’s it to you, eh?” “ Nothing, just making sure!” Yamazaki chirps, Niragi rolling his eyes and going back to just staring at a wall and ignoring the reunion between Yamazaki and Sakurada.

Arisu looks between the two in confusion, wondering how Yamazaki knew who Niragi was even though he likely has never been around here, or even around the Borderlands long at all. He could somewhat understand that the two in front of him knew each other beforehand, and maybe it showed true to Yamazaki and Niragi as well, but something wiggled in the back of his brain that the two have met each other for the first time in this hallway.

Niragi finally looks back, drumming his fingers along the butt of his rifle. “ I’m leaving, this is too sappy for my taste.” He pushes past Sakurada and Yamazaki, not even bothering to give the three another glance as he turns the corner.

Sakurada lets out a small sigh, and sends the two an apologetic look. “ He’s a little wound up, but don’t worry, I have him handled. I’ll come by and talk to you later okay? I need to keep an eye on him, make sure he isn’t going to bully anyone.” Sakurada gives a waves and walks past, Yamazaki waving back as he too disappeared.

“ I didn’t know you had a friend here, Yamazaki.” Arisu finally speaks up, Yamazaki looking at Arisu and nodding.

“ He’s a good friend of mines, and my neighbour! He’s really nice and helpful to me.” Yamazaki explains, Arisu nodding in agreement. Sakurada’s involvement in the Beach certainly caused some changes in the energy around the Beach, Niragi being a little less violent and troublemaking. It wasn’t by much, but Sakurada was at least able to rein the man’s aggressive behaviour by at least 15%, which was plenty enough.

“ So…. what are you going to do now?” Arisu asks, Yamazaki shrugging.

“ Stay here, follow the rules, hang out for a while. Oh, actually, would you like to come with me and walk around some more? Talk about anything you’d like, I’ll happily listen.”

Arisu slowly blinks, thinking about it. There wasn’t any harm after all, and maybe after explaining the new person to Usagi she would also enjoy his company. Yamazaki certainly was full of kindness, and Usagi seemed pretty open to anything Arisu introduced to her.

“ Sure. We can wait for my friend until then.”

Yamazaki nods, and cocks his head in the direction that Sakurada left. “ Can we walk this way? I want to see if I can see my friend again, I’ve missed him." Arisu smiles, a small and fond memory of his own dear friends drifting into his brain as Yamazaki spoke those words. “ That’s fine. Hey, have you ever heard of…..”

[candyopala]

Stuck in his ways, Chapter 7

Chapter Summary:  Y/N and Obito have to get around the awkwardness of the events from that night, and what better to help with that then team seven in all its glory?

Words: 2.3k

AO3

Please like or reblog if you enjoy, check my rules for requests too! My dms are also open if you want to chat or anything else. 

After spending a whole day on the hospital, Obito heads home for some well-deserved sleep. It is only on the next day, on his way to the field, that he starts properly processing what happened that night with Y/N. Her bandaging him up with a weird look in her eyes, him crying in front of her… the warmth he felt when she held his hand. Why did he do that in front of her anyway? They barely know each other, she teases him to no end, but he can’t help to already feel close to her, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 

The way she held him…. He hasn’t felt this way since long ago, he felt accepted in an intimate way, he felt genuine companionship with her. Obito feels bad when he remembers too the reason for that whole situation, he wanted to get rid of the girl; he wanted to make her go away without giving her a chance. 

I’ve been so blind, shutting her off like that…

Without knowing anything about his failures and only knowing that ugly side he shows to everyone, she still helped him through a tough time. He can’t help but feel his heart flutter with embarrassment, he didn’t even give her much of a chance. She might not be from Konoha, but there’s still good in her. He needs to take his mission with her more seriously.

He walks down the market streets, instinctively analyzing every single action that happens around him, seeing the faces of the people going up and down the roadway busy with their things. It’s not long before he spots four familiar figures walking down the street together: team seven. Naruto and Sakura discuss loudly about a matter Obito doesn’t bother try rearing, followed by Sasuke and Kakashi tagging along. Obito tries to say hi to Kakashi, only to be attacked by a running Naruto that throws himself onto him with all his force: 

“Big bro Obito!”

“Hey! Calm down now! It’s only seven a.m. for Kami’s sake!” He scolds while laughing aloud and hugging the thirteen-year-old back

“I’m learning something new, you have to come see it! Are you busy?”

“I’m going to the training grounds, I can’t Naruto, sorry”

“Come on! Train with us!”

“Hey Naruto, stop bothering Obito, all right? He’s busy” Kakashi tries to intervene in Obito’s sake

“Huh… actually…” 

Obito’s mind starts functioning, he does need to teach some new stuff to Sasuke and bringing Y/N along would be good for her training. He decides to join them, he actually feels deep down the need to introduce her to new people, to get her more settled into the village. 

“I guess I’ll come along. There’s someone I want you guys to meet”

“Oh, is it her?” Naruto says with a devilish sparkle in his eyes.

“Her? Are you dating?” Sakura jumps up, immediately invested into the conversation.

“Finally” Sasuke also joins to make it all worse.

“Guys, calm down…” Kakashi once again tries to save his friend from his hyperactive trio “He’s just training a new member of the village”

A collective “oh” is heard from the two in disappointment. Great, now even the kids are invested in his love life. Obito tells them a little bit more about her on the way to the field, and he notices that even Kakashi seems a little bit more enthusiastic than normal. 

When they reach the training grounds, he finds Y/N laying back on a tree, with a surprised look on her face when she sees the kids. Obito tries to introduce them, but they end up introducing themselves, with a hyperactive Naruto leading the presentations followed by his teammates and his teacher. 

“Nice to meet you guys! Are we training together today?”

“Yup” Obito tries to say in the middle of Naruto’s ramblings 

“How’s your arm?” She asks him back in the midst of it, a bit of what seems worry flashes her eyes, only to be quickly concealed with a look to the side.

“Oh, feeling like new. Some medical ninjutsu quickly solved it.” He states as he gets more embarrassed by the minute, once the memory of their shared companionship floods his mind. He needs to try to actually be nicer to her. 

Meanwhile, Sakura flies a sly meaning smile in Obito’s direction, to his utter desperation. Watching the whole scene develop, Kakashi once again intervenes, trying to get to the subject of training. 

“So, Y/N, dumbi- ahem, Obito told me you need some help with discovering your chakra nature. Coincidentally, that’s what I’m currently doing with the kids, so we could help you with that”

“That would be great, thanks guys! Out of curiosity, what horrible things did my mentor say about me?” 

“Only the most terrible embarrassing things I found on your file” Obito teases back in a flash, without doing much thinking, letting himself play around a little.

“Oh then I should tell you friend about your new nickna-“

“Let’s start training, shall we?” He interrupts her before she can say it, since letting Kakashi know about that would be the end of him.

Kakashi started trying to teach Y/N a couple of techniques, teaching her to concentrate her chakra and showing her the right hand signs. Obito also explained about the ideal state of mind each element requires, the type of energy each one of them consumes. 

Raiton was immediately out of question, and despite her special punch technique, doton seemed to drain too much of her energy, as well as suiton. She was able to produce a small amount of katon, only achieving smaller jutsu still due to the immense amount of chakra these require, so the fireball jutsu was out of question. 

Futton was their last attempt and the one they were more successful with. She could produce wind with her running speed, creating vacuum spots, using the element in a less concentrated way than the rasengan requires, since she is still inexperienced with chakra concentration at that level. 

Obito was actually pleased with today’s developments; he thinks that she can become even stronger by actually doing jutsu in battle. Naruto was also overjoyed to learn that his new village mate had the same main element as himself, showing her his still developing rasengan, proud of his own training and giving her some tips. 

Obito let the pair talking and went to oversee Kakashi and Sasuke, now training his chidori technique. His little cousin had also developed a lot, and was now opening up to be a wonderful kid thanks to Naruto and Sakura’s insistence on their friendship, and Itachi’s efforts to make him socialize more. 

He then also let them train and sat down together with Sakura, who was watching her colleagues train too, while she herself studied some medical ninjutsu books. The small girl looked at him with curiosity, noting the different expression on her sensei’s friend, who was usually much more uptight and serious. With that knowing look again, she simply stated: 

“Mr. Obito, your main element is katon, right?”

“Yes Sakura, why?”

“Ah nothing, I was just wondering… katon is compatible with futton, right?”

“Yes, both can be used together to create more powerful jutsu”

 “So… we could say that you and Y/N are compatible”

Obito’s eye goes wide with the way the girl says it. Both of them know she is not talking about just jutsu here. The implication of what she said makes him go as red as a pepper. 

“N-no Sakura, she is my colleague, we are just that.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about sir, excuse me.”

The girl gets up and runs into Naruto and Y/N’s direction, winking back at Obito on her way. 

 ~”~

 The team gathers up for lunch, Y/N sits beside Obito’s friend Kakashi, opposite to her mentor, who sat in front of her. She avoided his eye contact, still feeling a little inappropriate for her behavior that night. She fears that what happened was too intimate for her own comfort, that she should not try to get that close to him. She should be his teammate, nothing else. She must ignore that pull that she feels from him, that desperate need she feels to talk to him about why he was crying that night. 

She tries to strike up conversation with the ninja beside her, and he is very receptive, if not for his general lack of energy and relaxed demeanor. She sees a small little orange book protruding from his pocket, is that what she thinks it is? It is! The greatest book series of all time! 

“Hey, is that Icha Icha?”

“Yes it is! I just picked up the latest volume!” he immediately assumes a whole different behavior, now fully invested in the conversation.

“What chapter are you on? Did you reach chapter 37 yet?”

“No, and no spoilers, please! I dying to know what she will do when she finds out about that thing”

“Dude, trust me, it’s going to be awesome”

They both strike up conversation about it for a couple of minutes, Y/N talks excitedly about the romance’s structure and how she finds it poetic in a way. They both discuss the general plots, praising the author despite Naruto’s loud complaints about him being a total pervert. 

When she finally looks at Obito’s direction, she sees the jonin hunched forward, with an unimpressed look on his face, matching Sasuke’s that also seems to be bothered by the subject matter.

“Great, another one, they will talk about it forever” The young Uchiha comments.

“I don’t know what you guys see in this stupid book anyway” The oldest complements.

“He didn’t even give it a try; can you believe it, Y/N?” Kakashi teases in response.

“Sacrilegious! How could he say such things?” She retorts with fake shock.

“Shut up, you two perverts.” Obito says with a scorn forming on his lips, something he usually does that Y/N is starting to find extremely fun and… endearing? 

Y/N, Kakashi and the kids laugh at his little tantrum, and later even himself. He is acting different today, more open, with a more lighthearted attitude, a lot less uptight and grumpy. Y/N feels a little happy knowing that he is feeling better, but she quickly shuts off the realization. 

Concentrate on what’s important here. 

They quickly fall back into training, with Y/N sitting back due to her extreme exertion during the chakra nature tests. After he has finished with his portion of the training with Kakashi and Obito, Naruto joins her. They sit together observing Obito discussing the fireball jutsu with Sasuke, Y/N can’t help but notice the proud look on her teammate’s face when his little cousin does a perfect ball of fire, making her let out a small smile. He’s not so cynical after all.  

Naruto begins to talk about how he needs to be as strong as his father is, and Y/N learns that he is, in fact, son of the Hokage. He talks and explains a lot about the village and also talks about how his mom is always bothering him to make his bed in the morning. The kid is all over the place until he focuses on the subject of Obito. 

He begins to tell her about how he is like a big brother for him and how he taught him his most deadly jutsu, something about a sexy jutsu, and how he is cool even if he has no girlfriend. Y/N, being the innocent thing she is, prods him for more embarrassing details about her mentor. 

“One time he got stuck in the sexy woman form and Jiraya followed him around the village for a day! He had to hide from the pervert in the sewers! And once he choked with candy in the middle of a jonin reunion, Kakashi told me that”

Y/N cannot help but bust out in laughter at the image that forms in her mind, not being able to breathe while the kid continues to spill out embarrassing stories about the Uchiha. Naruto is suddenly stopped when Sakura lands a punch on top of his head, screaming in annoyance with her teammate’s attitude: 

“Stop ruining everything!”

What she meant with that remains a mystery to Y/N. The discussion has to be separated by a tired Kakashi, holding Sakura back with all his force. Y/N is caught off guard by Obito’s presence by her side. 

He helps her get up, giving his gloved hand in support. She accepts it, steading herself up. 

“So, that’s all for today, sewer boy?”

“He told you about that, huh?”

“Of course he did”

“Yup, that’s all for today. Let’s head home”

“Let’s? I didn’t know you had moved into my broom closet, Obito”

“You know I’m not letting you walk around exhausted like that, Y/N”

The change in his tone scares her. He sounds serious, almost protective, and he calling her name like that sends shivers down her spine, in a not so bad way. He also didn’t call her a dumbass, is that an improvement? 

She once again insists on walking by herself, but he insists on it so much that she eventually gives up and lets him accompany her. They discuss her new technique possibilities on most of the way, only for the subject to change as they reach her apartment. 

“So, what did you think about them?”

“They’re nice kids, all of them seem to look up to you, Naruto especially”

“He’s a good kid, they are all like family to me”

Y/N agrees with her head, thinking to herself about the word family. She once had one, but lost them very early on. Moreover, once she found another person she could call that, she lost them too. The memories flood her mind, making her face go serious and eyes to go foggy. 

“Take good care of them Obito, what you have here is… amazing”

“I will, I promised that long ago”

They reach her door, saying their goodbyes quickly. As Y/N closes her door, Obito calling her name again interrupts her.

“Oh! Y/N! I forgot; we have an important meeting with the Hokage tomorrow at ten in the morning. We will be heading out for our first mission, be ready”

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

Please Don't Say Goodbye | Tsukishima Kei/Reader

Characters: Tsukishima Kei, Reader, Yamaguchi Tadashi

Pairings: Tsukishima Kei/Reader

Warnings: light swearing, crying, implied panic attacks, arguments, yelling, ummm lemme know if I missed anything

Word Count: 2181

A/N: This was meant to be a drabble- okay, in my defence, I've had such writers block and apparently the feels were necessary soooo. This is 1 of 2 fic ideas that were sent to me by @satan-ruler-of-hells for a prompt thing I did (idk if I can find the thing) and the next one is Tendou. So, maybe get ready for more feels of my almost 5 am angst. I also did not proof-read this, sooooo

--------

How had things ended up like this?

Every little thing was like the calm before the storm - the most tense calm that had ever existed; you were walking on eggshells, and maybe so was he, but you couldn’t help it. At least, you thought you couldn’t. Each attempt to try and fix the mess around you only ended up in more heartbreak.

The storm that always seemed to be headed in your direction had tore apart the home you’d meticulously built together. Plates and picture frames shattered to the ground; glass leaving you walking on bleeding feet. The flowers of your love torn apart somewhere in the distance now. Breath stolen from your lungs, but not from those kisses he’d give you back in high school, not from the way he’d dance with you around his bedroom (only to shove you onto the bed when his brother barged in), not from your outrageous laughter at something stupid that had happened. This was a breath stolen from countless nights arguing, screaming, trying to gain the upper hand in a situation where you were both at a standstill. A breath stolen from your heaving words as you scrunch your hands into your roots, pull your legs close to your chest and shove yourself into a corner while he slammed the door and left to God knows where. Breath stolen from the realization that maybe things just weren’t working like they used to, and that it was okay to love him, but to not be in love with him.

Tonight was just another picture perfect example of why you weren’t meant to be together. You’d come home late from work (because of some stupid assignment that you just wanted to finish today). He was sitting on the couch, scrolling through Netflix for something to watch. Honestly, you just wanted to eat something, so you didn’t bother greeting him, but the moment he noticed your presence in the house, he was hot on your tail.

“Where were you?” His voice sharp as daggers, digging under your skin and tearing you apart piece by piece. His arms are crossed over his chest, eyes so judgmental you feel like you’re in court. Nothing you say is the right answer, so you choose to not say anything. Apparently, that wasn’t the right answer either - this you find out when his iron grip settles on your shoulder and forces you to turn around.

“Hey-” you winced, trying to pry his fingers off.

“Where were you?” He repeated, basically growling at you through his gritted teeth.

“I was at work.” You rolled your eyes, turning your attention back towards the fridge, trying to ease the beating of your heart. In, hold, out. You repeat to yourself, barely remembering what all those instagram therapists had told you.

He scoffed, finally releasing his grip in favor of slamming the fridge door shut, “really? Because the last time I checked, your work ended two hours ago. What could you possibly have been doing for two whole hours?” He was in your face now, making you know how pissed he was.

But you already knew. You’d always known. Why did he need to try and make it so blindingly obvious to you?

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Kei, I was working. What part of that is so hard to understand?” You snapped back, moving away from him with a heavy sigh. At this point, you didn’t bother holding back the venom in your words. You knew he had issues (and you knew why) but did that mean he should take it out on you? No. Fuck.

“Two hours! Y/N, I was waiting two hours. I was going to take us to dinner, we were going to have a nice time.” He followed after you, closing every cupboard door you opened, trying to get your attention. “But you didn’t even send me a text. Were you too busy fuck-”

“Oh my God!” You yelled over him, spinning around to face him with your pure unfiltered aggression.

Back and forth you went for what felt like hours. Tears were acid down your cheeks, your spit a very special concoction of venom just for him. And yet, even as you were dry heaving in the kitchen sink, yelling more obscenities at him, you could never seem to stop. Neither could he.

Tsukishima Kei was known for a lot of things, being an asshole was one of them. That you knew too well.

For a while, though, things were good. He loved you. You loved him.

As he sits there, accusing you over and over of cheating on him, even though you hadn’t and you wouldn’t. God.

When had he become so anxious and persistent that things were going wrong? Yes, they were going wrong, but not for the reasons he keeps saying. It’s driving you insane, to the point where you can’t even remember those stupid breathing techniques, or grounding techniques, or anything.

This argument had lost the plot at some point around when he started yelling at you for doing the dishes wrong (you still insisted there wasn’t a wrong way to do them). So you bit back that his clothes were stupid, or that dinosaurs were stupid, something. Something was stupid.

“If you have so many problems with the way I choose to live my life, then get the fuck out.” You screamed, slamming your fists down onto the table and pointing to the door. His expression was scrunched up into something completely unrecognizable - a fine mixture of hatred and anguish. His chest rising and falling so rapidly you’re amazing he’s still standing. His hair is a complete and utter mess, so many times he’d ran his hand through it to try and make sense of the nonsense you were both spouting.

“Fine, I will!” He yelled back, voice hoarse from the past two hours.

You watched him head towards the door without a second thought, grabbing his coat, shoving his shoes on. You didn’t have the energy to call out after him, no matter how much your heart begged you to.

And your heart did beg you to; but it had already accepted that the end had been coming for too long.

You lean back against one of the cupboards, looking up at that one crack in the ceiling that he’d insisted he’d get around to fixing but something had always come up.

If you had to say what was wrong in your relationship, it would just be something. Something was wrong, and neither of you knew what it was, but something would be your downfall. Something filled the air with poison and made you destined to hate each other; something danced around in your words and twisted the meaning; something caressed your cheek as tears fell.

Something was your downfall and you didn’t have the energy to fight it.

So, maybe you’d call in sick the next day, and your boss would believe you because your voice sounded like hell; and maybe you’d spend the entire day lying in bed despite the fact your stomach was beginning for some nutrients; and maybe it would feel good to not have that nagging voice that you shouldn’t sleep in all day.

But today would have felt nicer with him by your side.

If there was one thing Tsukishima Kei was good at (after a lot of practice), it was making you feel just a little bit better with his empty promises and sweet nothings.

So, maybe you’d dressed yourself in his shirt and breath in him; and maybe you’d grab that dinosaur plushie you’d bought him for his birthday so many years ago and pull it to your chest; maybe you’d sleep on his side of the bed even though his pillow wasn’t as fluffy as yours; and maybe, just maybe, you watched his favourite movie on repeat, hoping it would bring him back to you.

Those were all maybe’s. But maybe they did happen, and you wanted nothing more than to be in his arms and tease him for his glasses that he insisted were cool. Or to have him laugh at you for the fact you majored in literature, despite the fact you weren’t good with words.

When your phone rang, you didn’t hesitate in picking it up, almost too excited for his voice, “Kei-”

“Y/N…” Yamaguchi’s voice was soft, understanding. It killed your fire of excitement in an instant.

You listened to him talk, something about how Tsukishima had decided you needed a break and would be staying at his place for a little while. Something about how he still loved you, but he didn’t want to keep hurting you like this.

It wasn’t a surprise that you didn’t manage to keep it together and broke out crying all over again, basically screaming and begging for things to be okay. There was no doubt in your mind, if Tsukishima was in the room with Yamaguchi, then he’d heard your cries.

“I’ll be better…” you whimpered, after far too long, “I’ll be nice. A-and… I won’t make fun of his glasses. Or dinosaurs. Please… please, Yamaguchi, please tell him to come home!” You cried out, unsure if you even managed to breathe.

He was silent on the line. You couldn’t take it. The silence, you wanted the noise. You’d prefer the arguing over this.

“I’m sorry…” Yamaguchi said weakly, and you knew how much it was hurting him to say this.

He hung up the phone and you were left as a shell of yourself.

And yet, your life must go on. So, for two months, you pushed your problems to the side and kept dredging forward in the hope that the answer to your problems was in one of these articles. Hoping that your co-worker would tell you some shitty anecdote that would distract you for just a little while.

Yo couldn’t look at your apartment anymore, not as little pieces of him were still littered everywhere.

Only, one day, you came home and he wasn’t anywhere. You didn’t notice it, not at first, but then you saw his mug from your museum visit in his third year of high school wasn’t next to your matching one. And then neither were his books on the shelf in your living room, or under the coffee table. His clothes gone from the closet. Every inch. Every detail. Every bit of him you had left had disappeared in the span of one work day.

And you were left with nothing.

With as much energy as you could muster, you turned and ran in the general direction of Yamaguchi’s house (which was hopeless, considering you had the directional capability of a broken compass and the stamina of a dead horse). You really were hopeless as you dialed his number, ignoring the way the moon taunted you in the sky.

He answered, for whatever reason, and you let out a breath. “What is it?” His tone was even, but something told you he was barely holding it together.

“Is this it?” Was all you could say. Head dizzy as you looked for Yamaguchi’s house - which you just knew was somewhere around here.

“It’s been it for a long time.” He really sounded robotic, like he was reading from a script.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Your voice broke as you ran, ignoring the splintering pain in the balls of your feet, “you thought making Yamaguchi say you needed a break, and then disappearing for two months, and then only reappearing to take your things back was the answer?” You cried out.

“You know-” his voice cracked and he stopped speaking. God, it hurt you so much.

“I never wanted this.” Tears were pouring down your cheeks.

“You think I did?”

“No-”

“I tried, Y/N, I tried so hard. But you would never listen to me!”

“I tried too, Kei!” You tried not to yell, and you hoped that it worked.

Some miracle brought you to Yamaguchi’s door, the one you only recognized because of the little frog statue on the windowsill. You pressed the doorbell, hoping for the best.

“I tried because I loved you. And I waited for you, I waited and hoped you’d come back. I-” you ran your hands through your hair once again. “I know we aren’t the best, that something is always wrong, but we can work on this. We can… fuck, I don’t know. You were the smart one…” he let out a low chuckle laced with pain. “But we can work something out, can’t we?”

There was a pause, and Yamaguchi opened the door, shocked to see you. Your breath hitched but neither of you spoke.

“I… I can’t do this anymore…” he admitted, and you felt your heart shatter. “Y/N, this is it…”

You could see Tsukishima pacing in the living room just down the hall, and you know Yamaguchi knows you’ve seen him. His phone pulled away from his face, finger shaking over that familiar red button.

“Please don’t say goodbye…” you called out.

--------

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[sunflowergirl522]

Herc’ata

Pairing: Din Djarin x Short!Reader

Summary:While visiting Cara and Greef Din meets a new face, one Grogu becomes attached to immediately. (Bubbly enthusiastic person and grumpy serious person ship dynamic)

Warnings: Language maybe?, slight mention of infertility, breeding kink if you look real close for it. If I missed anything let me know

Word Count: 2684

A/N: I know that not much happens in this one but it was getting too long but I’m gonna start working on a part 2 after work hopefully.

Masterlist

You land your freighter just outside of Nevarro city nearly bursting with excitement knowing that you’re about to see Cara again. You haven’t seen her since she had just started hiding out on Sorgan. You grab your tan knapsack and jump off of the front ramp right before it touches the ground. You aren’t expecting anyone to be waiting for you at the entrance so you just head straight into the city. You spot Cara talking to a man after walking for a bit and taking in your surroundings.

“Cara!” You run at her with a giant smile on your face. Her head turns to you and her eyes widen while a smile graces her face as she sees you. She’s quick to catch you as you throw your arms around her waist.

“Y/n!?” You both part but she keeps her hands on your shoulders. “You’re here early.”

“I couldn’t wait another day to leave.” You bounce on your feet from all the excitement. “I’ve been so excited to see you again.” Cara chuckles at just the sheer amount of energy you’re emitting as she picks you up in a bear hug.

“Who’s this?” The man that Cara had been talking to asks as the two of you part.

“Hi! I’m Y/n!” You hold your hand out to him as you look up at his face. He glances towards Cara partially for an explanation.

“My cousin.”

“Ah, Cara had mentioned a cousin coming to visit. I’m Greef Karga.” He takes your hand and you shake it enthusiastically.

“It’s great to meet you.” Before Greef could say anything else you let go of his hand and spin around taking in everything again. “This place is so much nicer than the last time I was here. You’ve done an amazing job, Care!” You beam at Cara with your eyes closed. Now where am I staying exactly?”

“Follow me.” Cara motions with her hand the direction and you walk forward while Greef looks at Cara with a playful gleam in his eye.

“Care?”

“Drop it.” Cara nudges his shoulder with a small smile as she catches up with you.

***

Din looks at Grogu playing with the only piece of the Razor Crest that was left over, his beloved ball.

“Grogu.” the child coos and turns his attention towards the Mandalorian who smiles under his helmet at the kid. “That asteroid field back there did some damage to the ship, how about we stop by Nevarro to visit our friends and get some repairs?” Din really just wants to get a whole new ship, one that isn’t already a hunk of junk when he finds it. The child just coos again before turning his attention back to the ball.

Din got stuck with an x wing that’s missing one of it’s set of wings past the thrusters. He’s just been praying that he doesn’t come across anymore republic pilots before he can get a new ship. The last thing he needs is them questing him. He misses having a hull and an area to sleep. Instead he’s been stuck sleeping in the pilots seat, that is when he does sleep. He’s awake most of the time making sure Grogu doesn’t press anything.

All in all Din just can’t wait to get to Nevarro to get some rest and hopefully a new ship.

***

Greef and Cara are talking about a friend of theirs when you join them in the cantina the next morning.

“When’s he showing up?”

“Some time today I think. He seemed exhausted over the holo.”

“Who did?” They both jump at your voice not hearing you approach the table.

“A friend of ours is coming back to visit.” Greef smiles at you as he speaks. You’ve made quite the impression of yourself to him and even though he hasn’t known you long he would die for you. It might have something to do with the contrast of your bubbly personality and how serious Cara and Mando always are.

“Oh that’s nice. So I get to meet him?” You look at Cara with hope in your eyes.

“Only if you don’t get too excited and do that thing you do that makes you overbearing.”

“I don’t do a thing like that.” Cara just looks at you with a straight face. “Oh come on Care, I didn’t do it with Greef!”

“That’s true.” Greef points at you and looks at Cara.

“Mando is different though Y/n, he’s got this kid with him-”

“Oh! I love kids!” You freeze as you clap your hands in excitement at the look she’s giving you. “Sorry.”

“He’s real protective of it. You can’t get all excited and run towards it, okay?”

“Okay, fine I won’t do the thing. Even though I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Then you can meet him. Now, where do you want to start today?”

“Idk I figured we could just like catch up and then maybe you could show me the school.” You look up at her with pleading, hopeful eyes.

“That sounds great.”

Greef gets your attention after that, telling you about how they fixed the place up. You don’t see it but Cara gives you a sad smile as she speaks. She knows how much you love kids, how much you’ve always loved kids. She remembers how when the two of you were younger you would carry around stuffed toys and care for them as if they were children. How the two of you used to lay in the grass looking up at the stars and talk about anything and everything, oftentimes it led to you talking about how you can’t wait to have kids and shower them with all the love in the galaxy. She also remembers the broken expression on your face when you were told that you couldn’t have children of your own.

“Cara?” You wave your hand in front of her face to get her attention. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

***

Cara makes her way with you through the paths of the city knowing that you’re definitely gonna overreact at seeing the kid. You’re walking close to her and going on about how you’re so glad that she has friends now because for as long as you can remember she would tell you that she doesn’t need friends, she only needs you. Well that’s until you break off mid thought because you see him.

“A baby!” You speed up to pick up the little green bundle and Cara just misses your arm to stop you.

“Y/n stop.” You don’t pay any attention though and next thing you know there’s a blaster in your face and a mandalorian is holding the kid in his arm.

“Um, hi?” You give him a small wave and move your head to get a better look at the kid rather than the gun. Meanwhile the kid coos lightly and reaches an arm out to you, your mouth opens a bit at how cute he is. As you move to reach out to him the mandalorian grabs your wrist with the hand that was just holding the blaster.

“Who are you?” As a small ‘ow’ comes out of your mouth the kid coos as if he was upset with it. This causes the mandalorians' grip to loosen enough for you to take yours from it.

“I’m Y/n!” You smile up at the helmeted man and hold your hand out for him to shake. This confuses Din because he had just had a gun to your head and a harsh grip on your wrist, and yet you’re beaming up at him.

“Mando, hi, this is my cousin.” Cara stops next to you. “Y/n, this is Mando.” You bring your hand back to your side realizing he wasn’t gonna take it and turn to look at Cara.

“Did I do the thing?”

“Kinda.”

“Sorry.” You step back as you turn your attention back to Mando. Behind his helmet Din scrunches up his eyebrows in confusion. What do you have to be sorry for other than just trying to see the kid.

“Is there lodging?” Din focuses on Cara instead of saying anything to you. She just nods at him and motions for him to follow her. You walk with Cara purposely making sure to stay close to her so you don’t end up being overbearing to her friend.

Once in the room Din will be staying in he gently places Grogu on the bed before turning to rest his pistol on the table next to the bed.

“So what brings you to town this time?” Cara leans against the doorway and you stay out in the hall.

“I need a ship or at the very least repairs.”

“The repairs can happen, I’m not sure about the new ship though.”

“Who’s the freighter I landed next to belong to? I haven’t seen that around before.”

“Oh, that’s mine!” You enter the room with your hand raised a bit. Mando doesn’t even need to say anything or react for you to just know what he’s about to ask. “And she’s not for sale.” Din watches as you cross your arms and squint your eyes at him. He just puts his hands up in a mock surrender and sits on the bed.

“C’mon let’s give Mando some privacy.”

“Oh, I can give you and Greef a tour of my ship now!” Din watches as you bounce on your feet with each step you take out of the room. He finds himself noticing that after you leave, the room grows the smallest bit darker. He brushes the observation off as his eyes playing tricks on him and lays down on the bed ready for a good rest. He’s asleep when Grogu slips out of the room.

***

“This is quite the freighter you have.” Greef says from the passenger seat behind you.

“Isn’t Comet great!” You rub the dashboard with love as you speak. “She’s the only family I have left other than Cara, so I make sure she stays in tip top shape.” A small sad smile makes its way onto your lips as it always does nowadays when you think about Alderaan.

The door to the cockpit opens drawing all of your attention to it. Grogu coos as he looks around until his eyes land on you. He makes his way over to you and as he reaches your feet you bring him into your arms. Cara and Greef share a look with each other from the minute they see him.

“You are just the cutest little thing!” As you bring him up to be face to face with you Cara stands up to see if Mando is with him.

“Hey kid, where’s Mando?” Greef only gets a head tilt in response.

Meanwhile Din wakes up asking if Grogu wanted to go get some food just to be met with silence. He shoots up and looks around the room for some sign, any sign, of the kid. All he finds is the cracked open door and that’s enough to make him jump to action, quickly grabbing his blaster and speeding out of the inn. His first thought is to just find the kid but as he’s rushing through the city his next thought is that he should find Cara and Greef to help him.

“He’s gotta be worried sick, you can’t just wander away little one.” Grogus’ blabbering pulls Dins attention to the conversation. “Let’s get you back to your papa cutie.” Din rounds a corner and there’s the short girl from before smiling down at Grogu in her arms. He swears that when you look up and smile at him the world brightens like before in his room. “Look there he is.”

“Give him to me.” He speaks once you’re stopped in front of him and you nod as you hold Grogu out to him. As Mando brings him into his chest he coos and reaches out to you.

“Oh little one, it’s okay I’m still right here.” You step towards the child and let him grab onto your finger. Din can feel the heat coming from you through his clothes, penetrating his skin. He can’t help but to think about how much you look like a mother as he tilts his head down to watch you kiss Grogus head.

***

A few days pass and you spent as much time with Cara as you could, however the kid has barely allowed you out of his sight before he’s running away from the mandalorian to find you. You’ve wanted kids for so long that you don’t even question it, you just embrace him with open arms. Din however, Din can’t figure out why Grogu is so attached to you or why his own world is so much brighter when you’re around. He asked Cara about it once not outright but it was hinted at. All she had to say about it was that you’ve been like that your whole life, that your bubbly personality helped to spread joy to whoever was around you. But Din doesn’t think she understood what he meant though, he never mentioned the way his heart would swell while seeing you with Grogu.

The day comes when Din needs to get going, the two of them still can’t stay in one place for too long, and he’s nervous on how to tell the kid. Luckily for him he has Cara and Greef on his side. They helped plan to have everyone at the ships at the same time.

“Wow, this really is a piece of shit ship.” You walk around the broken x wing with the child safely in your arms.

“Why I was looking for a new one.” You shrug off how grumpy he sounds and walk back towards him. You know what’s about to come, you’re not dumb (as much as you seem like it sometimes), so you place the kid down on the ground and fix the straps of your knapsack and think to yourself.

Din picks up the kid while he has the chance and turns to say his goodbyes to Cara and Greef. He then stands in front of you not sure how to say bye or even if he’s ready to. And that’s fine because you’re too lost in your head that you don’t notice him stopped in front of you. When you look back up at him he just nods at you and turns to walk away. The child reaches out to you from over Mandos shoulder and his big sad eyes decide it for you.

“You could take my ship!” You watch closely as Mando stops and turns around, tilting his head as he looks at you. “I mean obviously I would be going with you, you can’t just have Comet. But this way you get to be in a nicer, bigger ship and the kid stays happy. I mean I also wouldn’t mind helping to take care of him and I’m sure you wouldn’t mind some help.” Mando just nods and motions with his head to your ship. You beam at him and turn to Cara to pull her into a big hug. “I’ll come visit again sometime soon, alright?”

“Yeah. Take care of yourself Y/n/n.”

“I will!” Greef is next for a hug, which he gladly returns. “It was great to meet you Greef!”

“Same kid. Don’t let Mando dull your light, he can be a bit of a grump.”

“It’ll be fine, I don’t let anyone dull my light.” With that you walk to your ship and open the ramp, waving back at them as you get inside.

Greef and Cara stop Mando before he follows after you.

“You better take good care of her.” He nods at Greef before turning his head to Cara.

“If anything happens to her Mando I swear, I’ll have your head.”

“She’ll be fine, I took care of the kid. I'm sure she’ll be less of a problem.” And with that he finally makes his way into the ship.

Taglist: @fanficsforheartandsoul @remmyswritings

[angelmavmurdock]

Our Little Secret: Part Four - A.R.

Word count: 3186 Summary: Arvin helps y/n with her wounds and things get heated.

-

Reader's POV

We got to the house and Arvin parked outside. We both got out and shut the doors quietly, not wanting to disturb Lenora in the back. Arvin opened the door and I went around to help.

"Hey, just need you to stand up for me." Arvin spoke softly to his sister, brushing the hair from her face.

She groaned lightly but then sat up with tired eyes and slid out of the car. Arvin held her on one side while I supported her other side. I shut the car door behind me and we walked Lenora up the stairs to the front door. I ignored the pain in my legs and continued supporting some of her weight. Arvin unlocked the door then we went in.

We walked her to her bedroom and I stood by the door while Arvin lay her down on her bed and helped take her shoes off then tucked her under the covers. She quickly nuzzled into her pillow and thanked us quietly. Arvin smiled and then stood back up, walking towards me.

"Let's get you cleaned up." He said quietly to me and we headed to the kitchen, closing Lenora's door.

It was so quiet without Mrs Russel or Lenora. The sun was just about to set so it left a golden glow in the room, still giving us some light and heat.

"Just uh...just sit up on the counter, there." Arvin directed awkwardly, coughing afterwards.

I attempted to hop up onto the counter but just hurt my leg.

"Ow!" I exclaimed, my knees buckling from the pain.

He hurled towards me in panic and caught me by the waist before I hit the ground.

"You alright?" He asked, concern lacing his voice as he brought me back to a standing position.

"Yeah, I just...I can't get up on the counter because of my legs." I said to my shoes, avoiding eye contact with him.

There was a different energy in the house. I don't know if it was just because we were alone and we had just been in this fight but it was almost...sexual. And I had never felt that before.

"Well, I'll help you. C'mon." He hoisted me up by my hips fairly easily.

I flinched when I sat on the kitchen counter, the coldness of the granite on my bare thighs. My shorts were skin tight and stopped just below my backside while my skirt only went to not even my mid-thigh.

Arvin noticed and gulped then pulled away. He rummaged through one or two kitchen cupboards before finding the first aid kit he had been looking for. He opened the small tin box up and got everything he needed out. I watched as he shed of his jacket and cap and then brought everything over to me.

"Alright, hands first." He said.

I held my hands up, palms up, for him. He wetted a cloth and wrung it out before coming back over to me.

"This might sting." He stated.

He took my hand gently and dabbed the cloth on the cuts. I winced and curled my toes at the pain but managed to keep still as he did the other hand, too. He looked closer at them then looked at me.

"They'll be fine. Just be careful." He said.

I nodded and watched as he put the cloth down then inspected my legs.

"Damn...those assholes better not bother you again." He shook his head and reached for a bottle of antiseptic germicide.

"Wrong place, wrong time, I guess." I sighed.

He shook his head again, "No. They're just fuckin' bullies lookin' for girls to prey on."

I looked into his eyes and they seemed filled with pain and anger. He put some of the liquid onto a piece of kitchen paper.

"Okay, this'll definitely hurt so just stay still." He said.

He hesitantly placed his hand on my lower thigh to keep my leg in place. My breath hitched in my throat and I felt my lower regions flutter with...I don't quite know what.

He placed the wetted kitchen paper onto my knee and I gasped, gripping his forearm in pain. I bit my lip to stop myself from screaming then just used my whole hand to cover my mouth.

"Just squeeze my arm, y/n." He spoke lowly.

I nodded and he patted the kitchen paper on my knee again. I gripped his arm, my sheer painted nails digging into his skin, probably marking him. I removed the hand from my mouth and just balled them into fists on the counter as he wiped over both my knees.

"Fuck, that hurts." I squeaked, leaning my head back on a cupboard.

"Just a second or two more." He said reassuringly.

"Anywhere else?" He asked, removing the kitchen paper from my skin.

I didn't loosen off though, I knew what else hurt.

"I uh...I landed on my hip but I don't know if it's cut or not." I said, eyes still clenched shut because the liquid was still cleaning my open cuts.

"You'll have to show me." He said softly.

I wasn't used to this side of Arvin. He was usually either upfront, sarcastic, mean or suspicious. He was never this soft or caring around me.

"I don't...I don't wanna." I shook my head.

He sighed, "y/n, I need to check to be safe. Would you rather it be infected or would you rather me clean it?"

I groaned, "Fine. But don't look too much."

He smirked slightly then helped me down from the counter. I looked at him so he could turn around but he didn't get the message.

"Arvin. Turn around." I said, gesturing with my hand.

"Oh- sorry." He apologised, turning his back to me.

I smiled at him, revelling in the fact he couldn't see my face. I felt heat rise to my cheeks and ears as I removed my shorts, leaving me in just my underwear and my skirt.

"Should I take my skirt off?" I asked nervously.

"Um...how high up is the cut?" He asked, turning his head to talk to me.

I flipped my skirt up and looked. It was a bigger wound than I expected. An open cut from my side to just on my ass cheek. I gulped then decided I'd keep the skirt on. I didn't want to be completely half-naked in front of him.

"It's fine I'll keep it on. You can turn around." I assured, kicking my shorts to the side.

He turned around and wetted a new piece of kitchen paper with the antiseptic.

"Alright, how bad is it?" He asked, his brown eyes looking into my own.

"Quite bad." I said.

I slowly lifted the hem of my skirt up, revealing the wound and my underwear. If I had known Arvin was going to be looking at my panties I would have worn nicer ones. They were just plain black with a little bow at the front.

Arvin gulped then stuttered.

"It's okay. I'll clean it then dress it." He said, nodding as if trying to reassure himself.

"Okay." I bit the inside of my lip nervously.

I turned to the side and kept my skirt lifted up. Arvin lightly held my waist with his left hand then started wiping some of the dry blood from my thigh. I shivered under his touch and he hesitated for a moment but kept going.

I closed my eyes and bit my lip, my brain confused if I was reacting to the inevitable pain or his touch on my skin and how he was taking care of me.

"Ready?" He asked quietly.

I nodded with a hum.

He pressed it to my hip first and I gasped, "Arvin!" I held his arm from behind me and squeezed my eyes shut.

I heard him audibly gulp and his movements became scattered like he was flustered. But then he gently started wiping at the wound.

"Fuck," I hissed as he moved it to the part of the wound that was on my butt.

"You okay?" Arvin asked softly.

I hummed, "Just stings- ah fuck." I cursed, gripping his arm tighter.

He gave a few more wipes and then pulled away. I relaxed and sighed with relief.

"Thank god that's over."

He chuckled, "I'll just dry it and dress it."

"Okay." I smiled.

He got a new piece of kitchen paper but this time just dabbed on my skin, collecting any excess liquid. I bit my lip, not from pain this time but from saying or doing anything out of sorts. Every time his hand grazed over my skin I felt a rush to my core and butterflies in my stomach. It was extremely odd and new. I had never experienced feelings like that.

Arvin pulled the sheet away and then opened up a huge band-aid looking thing. I lifted my skirt higher for easier access and he softly pressed it onto my skin, careful to where he was placing it.

He smoothed it over then stood back.

"All done." He sighed.

"Thank you, Arvin." I swallowed nervously, placing my skirt back down.

"No problem, y/n." He smiled then packed away the first aid kit.

I furrowed my brows and rested a hand on his, "What about you?"

He looked from my hand to my eyes, "What d'ya mean?"

"You got hurt, too."

He snickered, "I can take care of myself, y/n."

I held his hand tighter and made sure he was looking at me.

"But you don't have to..." I whispered.

He looked from my eyes to my lips a few times and so did I. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to kiss him.

"I only got some bruises and a bloody nose." He spoke, cutting the tension.

"Where are your bruises? You only have one on your cheek. Are there more?" I prompted.

He looked away, then down to his feet, then back up at me. I looked at him in concern.

"There's...there's some on my chest. I think it's right on my ribs." He finally said.

A soft smile grew on my face.

"I can help with that."

He looked at my lips once more but then pulled away, his hand coming out from underneath mine.

"Fine. But don't look too much." He smirked.

I smiled and shook my head, "Asshole."

He began lifting his white - now dirty - shirt off. First I saw the black, blue and purple bruising over his ribs and then I noticed his abs, and his evident muscles. I knew he was fit but I didn't realise labour got you like this. I gulped and ignored any thoughts that may enter my mind.

I walked towards him and placed my hands on his chest and then slid them down slowly over his bruises, careful not to hurt him.

It was so quiet in the house, only the sounds of bugs and distant traffic filling the silence. And now the touching of my skin over his.

"Did you hear a crack when you fell?" I asked in a whisper, feeling his bruises.

He winced, "No."

"How does it feel when you breathe in." I asked, looking up into his dark, brown eyes.

He swallowed, "A lil' sore."

"Take a deep breath for me." I requested, wrapping one hand around to his back and keeping one splayed just under his pecs.

He paused and then took a deep breath. I couldn't hear anything or feel anything. He exhaled slowly.

"How did that feel?" I asked, removing my hand from his back.

"Not good." He chuckled.

I stood away from him and went towards the freezer, "You'll just have bruised ribs. Nothin' too bad but you'll have to take it easy for a while. No work."

I retrieved a bag of peas from the freezer drawer and held it over his bruises. He flinched and hissed at the cold on his swollen skin.

"Just keep it there and keep replacing it. It'll keep the swelling down. Have some pain killers too." I spoke while getting the cloth that Arvin used and putting it under warm water.

"What're you doing now?" He asked.

I rinsed it through then wrung it out.

I smiled, "Sit on the table."

He raised a brow, "No."

I scoffed, "Just sit on the table, Arvin."

He squinted his eyes at me, suspicious of what I was going to do. He silently complied and slid onto the dining table.

I stood in between his legs and reached a hand to cup his face.

"I'm cleaning your face. It's covered in blood and dirt." I whispered.

He smiled at the gesture and let me take care of him.

I wiped the cloth over one cheek and then the other. I wiped it over his forehead, under his curly hair and then down his nose. He chuckled at that and I giggled back.

"Just tilt your head back a lil'," I instructed, cupping his chin and moving his head back slightly.

He let me and I cleaned around his nose.

"You know, you surprised me today." He said.

"Really? With what?" I asked.

"With the crow bar."

I gulped and kept cleaning his nose, "I did what I had to do."

"Just surprised me." He shrugged.

I smiled, "Well, Arvin, I'm full of surprises."

I pulled the cloth away and then wiped under his nose with my thumb.

"All done." I smiled and rinsed the cloth off in the sink.

He slid off the table and watched me as I wrung the cloth out again and placed it over the tap.

I looked behind me and squinted at him, "What?"

"Nothin'." He shrugged with a smirk.

"Why're you lookin' at me like I'm your Sunday dinner?" I chuckled, turning around and leaning against the counter.

He put the bag of peas on the table and then walked closer to me. My heart rate picked up and my cheeks flushed again as he kept walking closer to me.

"y/n, I know I'm Lenora's brother and you probably want nothin' to do with me but," He was speaking lowly and I could feel the heat come from his shirtless body.

"Arvin-" I placed a hand on his cheek, stroking over a bruise.

We both looked from each other's eyes' to our mouths'.

"-kiss me." I whispered.

He slowly and almost hesitantly leaned down and I felt as if my heart was about to break out of my chest. Finally, his lips touched mine and all my nerves evaporated just like that.

His lips brushed over mine softly, a complete juxtaposition to the tension in the air and what we were wearing. He slid his hands onto my waist, able to feel my skin on his hands. I pushed back on the kiss and I felt his grip tighten on me. He pushed me further into the counter and I wrapped both my arms around his neck, lacing my fingers into his hair.

His tongue brushed past my bottom lip and I welcomed it, feeling him push and swirl his own around mine. I moaned into the kiss and he wrapped his arms almost completely around me, bringing me as close to him as possible. Our tongues moved with fervour and our breaths got heavier against each other's skin. His hand slipped down past my good hip and rested on my ass. I gasped and bit his bottom lip in surprise. He groaned and grabbed my ass completely. I moaned into his mouth and leaned further up, trying to get more of him.

I had never had a kiss like this before. It was lustful and passionate. No one had ever touched me like Arvin. And I didn't mind it one bit.

His kisses began to move down past my lips onto my jaw, sucking and licking over my skin. He began to suck on a spot just on my neck and I moaned, tugging his hair in pleasure.

He was good at this.

His hands slid under my skirt and carefully grabbed at the flesh - avoiding my cut.

He kept sucking on my skin, then relieved the spot by licking over it and then going back in again. His hands snuck under the band of my underwear and I gasped, surprised and aroused at the same time.

And I had never truly been aroused before.

He twisted his finger around the waistband and I wondered what he was doing. But then he pulled up slightly.

"Arvin!" I moaned.

Whatever he had done had cause a million pleasurable senses to go off.

"Shh, gotta be quiet, darlin'." He spoke lowly and breathlessly into the crook of my neck.

"Do it again-"

"Hello?!" A voice suddenly boomed through the house.

We both jumped and clutched our chests. Arvin winced at the pain around his ribs then looked at me with wide eyes.

"We're back!"

It was Mrs Russell and Uncle Earskell.

Arvin panicked along with me for a few seconds and then he pointed to my shorts on the floor. I gasped and dove to pick them up, just as Emma came into the kitchen.

"Oh hey, y/n! Lovely to see you!" She beamed.

I gulped, hiding the shorts behind my back.

"You too!" I grinned.

She switched the kitchen light on and then gasped at the sight of me, "You have blood all over you, honey! What happened?"

She came to me with a shocked face, looking over my body.

"Uh-"

"Those bullies, Grandma. Not only do they bother Lenora, they're botherin' y/n too. She protected herself, Lenora...and me." Arvin spoke almost proudly.

"Well, my goodness. That is horrible. We'll need to wash these before you head home. Don't want your parents seeing this."

"No ma'am." I smiled.

"Put your clothes in the sink and I'll handle it. You can borrow clothes from Lenora in the mean time and did you get any cuts?" She asked.

I looked up at Arvin then back at Emma, "Arvin and I helped each other out. And Lenora is okay, she's just resting." I said, placing a hand on her arm.

She sighed, "Okay. I'll give you some privacy to change."

She sat her things on the table and then gasped when she looked at Arvin.

"You silly boy. Come on." She rolled her eyes to me and grabbed the bag of peas and left the room.

Arvin and I stood for a moment just looking at each other. I bit my lip subconsciously and he smirked.

"You've got a new bruise." He informed me.

I furrowed my brows, "What?! Where?!" I exclaimed, looking down at my body.

He chuckled lowly and then pointed on his neck. I was confused for a moment but then I realised.

I lay a hand over my neck where he had been kissing me and he smiled smugly then followed his Grandma into the living room.

I rushed to the mirror and gasped.

A blue and purple hickey had appeared on my skin. I bit my lip looking at it and a slow smile started to form.

-

{Tags: @notanordinaryprincess96 @imagine-yourself-happy​ }

[andypantsx3]

war paint | 9 | thief

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Reader

length: 27,765 words / 10 chapters

summary: Desperate times force you to disguise yourself and join the kingsguard. When a suspicious string of crimes strike the palace, however, Captain Katsuki Bakugou starts paying extra close attention. (spin off of in cinders)

tags: mulan AU, secret identity, romance, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, some violence, eventual smut

“You look far too happy this early in the morning,” Kaminari commented sourly over breakfast, spooning aimlessly around in his bowl. His hair was a mess as it was most mornings, standing up on end like he’d been struck by lightning, and there were deep shadows under his eyes. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed.

Sero took a seat at his elbow, looking you over in bemusement. “Yeah, normally you’re asleep in your porridge, L/N. What gives?”

You hid a private smile. For the last week or so, you’d been kept thoroughly occupied by your captain and hadn’t seen much of your two friends, but the week had been something like the happiest of your life. You'd spent every day tangled up in Bakugou, training, talking, teasing. It seemed right that Sero and Kaminari would comment on your mood, since you also felt like satisfaction was spilling out of you, bursting through cracks in your skin like sunlight.

Maybe it was. Maybe they could really see it.

“Just in a good mood,” you hummed, shoveling porridge into your mouth so you didn’t have to follow up.

Kaminari eyed you suspiciously. “You do something to Nishimura? Put a cow pie in his bed?”

That wrenched a laugh out of you. “No, why would I?”

“Uh, maybe because he’s a shit to you,” Kaminari replied through a mouthful of his breakfast.

“Tit for tat,” Sero mused thoughtfully, chuckling.

You made a face. You’d quite honestly been too occupied with Bakugou over the last week to give much thought to Nishimura, though you certainly couldn’t admit as much to Kaminari and Sero. Nishimura hadn’t ceased his bad behavior, but you’d been spending so much time away from him, either on the training field for extra practice, or practicing something altogether different over the top of Bakugou’s desk. Or up against the wall. Or -- one memorable midnight -- back in the baths where the captain demonstrated very thoroughly what he’d wanted with you the night he’d caught you sneaking around.

You’d pretty much forgotten all about Nishimura.

You listened with half an ear as the conversation wandered away from your good mood, shifting to the subject of Lord Jiro’s daughter. Kaminari had tripped over her in the hall earlier this week, and he was now given to waxing poetic whenever she came up. You finished up breakfast as he practically spouted sonnets over the shapes of her earlobes, leaving him with a comment of encouragement as you set back off for the barracks to fetch your sword belt before drills.

As you turned the corner into your room, however, you collided with what felt like a boulder rolling out from within. You jerked backwards clutching your nose where you'd crunched it against the stone, winded by the impact. You looked up in surprise, finding Hasumi, Nishimura's idiot friend, instead. His tall frame filled the doorway to your quarters, broad shoulders thick with impossible muscle, and his eyes widened a little as he caught sight of you.

You looked up at him in question, but he merely grunted something offensive and sidestepped you, making sure to knock one brawny shoulder into yours as he did. He was large, even taller than the captain, and he nearly bowled you over with the force of it.

You stumbled back into the wall, biting down on a swear. That was going to leave a bruise.

Hasumi swept quickly down the hall, not waiting to hear anything you might have to say about his rough treatment. Your temper boiled, and thought about calling after him as you watched him irritably, but thought better of it. If he was here in your building, then that meant Nishimura was back in your room and you would need all the energy you possessed to deal with that. You took a steadying breath, resigning yourself to at least thirty seconds of similar unpleasantries. You wondered if Hasumi’s aggression was any indication of the kind of mood Nishimura was in.

To your surprise, however, the room was completely empty as you stepped inside. Had Hasumi been here to sneak another animal into your bed? You whipped your sheets from your mattress, but found no trace of anything inside, just the worn gray cotton of your pallet cover.

You felt your eyebrows draw together, but you remade your bed, then retrieved your sword and belt, buckling it around your waist. Maybe Nishimura had sent him in to fetch something. At times, Hasumi seemed more like Nishimura’s little peon and less like his friend. You often wondered if Nishimura was even capable of making friends without a shred of human decency in his body.

You thought on it as you walked to the training pitch for morning drills, something about the interaction with Hasumi niggling at the back of your mind. Had he seemed a little flustered when he’d seen you?

The thought was wiped clean from your mind when you arrived at the training field, however, as Bakugou appeared to have replaced your usual morning instructor. The sight of him this early, hair still a little rumpled from evening activities that you may or may not have had something to do with, filled your brain with a satisfied buzz that overrode all capacity for other thought.

Bakugou furthered your distraction with his usual merciless direction, running the battalion through a series of exercises worse than Ojiro had ever set you to. Your focus narrowed only to breathing and keeping upright as he pushed your battalion to your limits. He seemed to enjoy the sight of your suffering especially, red eyes following you around the training field, hungrily tracing the droplets of sweat down your neck where they disappeared into your collar.

By the lunch bell, you could swear you would be feeling the effects of the grain bags you’d hefted in your shoulders for weeks, would be running laps in your sleep for days afterwards. You collapsed in a pile with Sero and Kaminari as soon as drills ended.

“He’s a demon,” Kaminari whined, a tangled heap in the grass. “Why is he like this?”

Sero panted quietly, chest rising and falling in quick little huffs. “He needs to get laid or something.”

You choked. Instantly, Kaminari and Sero’s heads whipped around to stare at you.

“Uh, choked on my own spit,” you coughed out quickly, panicking. “Can’t breathe after all that.”

They seemed to buy it, relaxing back into the prickly grass. You flopped back as well, hating the way your sweat seemed to pool in the band of your chest bindings. Tonight was definitely a bath night; Bakugou would have to be left to his own devices for an evening. He deserved it after the hell he’d just put you through.

You barely roused yourself in time to make it to lunch before the mess hall closed, then swept off to patrol. You were paired with Nishimura again and the evening was expectedly unpleasant. Nishimura seemed more aggressive than usual, needling you with an abandon that was frankly alarming. Now more than ever, he was acting like he had nothing to lose, launching from disturbing comment immediately into the next with hardly any space for a breath. You wondered idly if it would be abusing your relationship with Bakugou to say anything about it -- you resolved to think on it more for the next few days before coming to any plan of action.

After patrol, you climbed into bed with the rest of your bunkmates and waited for them to drift off before stealing back out of the room to the servants’ baths where you washed off the day’s training. An anxious feeling settled over you as you bathed, and you hurried through the motions quicker than usual, not stopping to enjoy the relaxing heat of the pools as you usually did.

The anxious feeling followed you as you dried yourself and dressed, floating after you as you slipped through the dark castle grounds. As you arrived back at the barracks, it became clear why. The barracks were no longer dark, the windows glowing with the light of hundreds of candles.

A random bunk check.

You swore, tearing across the field to your building. You didn’t know the consequences of being found out of bed, but you didn’t like to think of what they would be. Ojiro usually scheduled and led the bunk checks, and while nicer than Bakugou, you’d witnessed enough of his fury to be afraid.

Only, it wasn’t just Ojiro in the doorway of your building.

You pulled up short when you noticed that all of the soldiers that housed with you were lined up in strict rows outside, one notable gap where you should have stood. Heads whipped up as you were spotted. From the far side of the field, Sero gave you an anxious look. Ojiro stood on the steps to your building, and behind him, silhouetted in the light of the doorway, was Bakugou.

Even in the dim light, you could see the line of his broad shoulders was tense, and his fists were clenched where they hung at his sides. Something white was clutched in his left hand. His expression was hard and a stone sank in your stomach. He looked angrier than you’d ever seen him and you couldn’t understand. Surely he’d have guessed you’d have gone to bathe?

“Stay where you are,” Ojiro ordered you over the sound of sliding metal. You watched in horror as he drew his sword, jerking it up to point at you. The air seemed to crackle with roiling energy and a sick feeling slid over you.

You froze, heart beating wildly, staring at Ojiro's sword. Was this protocol? Was it standard to discharge someone at sword point, or was this more? Could you have been figured out just by your absence?

“Ojiro?” you asked the officer in confusion. He frowned.

“Come quietly, thief,” he said, “Lay down your sword and no blood need be spilled.”

Apprehension shot through you like a bolt of lightning. Thief? Because you were out of bed after hours? That seemed like a leap.

“Ojiro, I’m not the thief,” you held your hands up at chest height, opening your palms in the universal gesture for peace. “I apologize for being out of bed and I accept my punishment, but I haven't stolen anything--”

“Explain this, then,” Bakugou’s rough voice bit into the dark night. His expression was stormy as he thrust out the item he’d been clutching in his hand. From this distance, you could make out what appeared to be a tidy letter scrolled on fine parchment in a dark ink. You felt your brow wrinkle in confusion as your eyes traced over the parchment. You couldn’t read it from where you stood but -- your eyes caught on a large varicolored marking at the bottom of the page and your heart leapt into your mouth. Though murky in the darkness and several paces away, it was quite likely the seal of the Todoroki prince.

“I don’t understand,” you said helplessly. Your mind swam with uncertainties. Why did he think you had anything to do with a missive from Prince Shouto?

“This was found underneath your mattress,” Ojiro said. His voice was hard. “It’s the missing treaty from the prince’s study.”

Found underneath your mattress? A feeling of horror settled over you as you flashed back to earlier that morning, where you’d almost collided with Hasumi coming from your rooms.

Hasumi.

All of sudden, things seemed to snap into place. The red flash under the thief’s cloak when you’d fought him in the master of coin’s office - it had been a soldier’s uniform. The pause the shadowy figure had given when he’d caught sight of Nishimura, the way he’d fled rather than fought the two of you. It had been Hasumi.

The thief was Hasumi and he was framing you.

“Ojiro, Captain, I didn’t--! I wouldn’t--!” you started, but an angry noise from Bakugou stopped you.

He leapt from the steps to your building, stalking across the field. He moved like a panther, padding aggressively toward cornered prey. His hand went to his sword, and you barely managed to draw yours in time to block him. The force of his strike nearly tore the sword from your hand and you only just managed to hold on to it, stumbling back from him.

“The debt,” he spat, “Your family’s debt, I should have fucking known.”

He raised his blade again, striking at you like a viper. You blocked him again, darting back out of his reach.

“Captain, I didn’t do it--” you said, but he cut you off with another overhand strike that seemed to carry every ounce of power he had in him. His blade slid along yours with a horrible grinding sound, catching on the grip and almost ripping it from your grasp.

“I thought I understood all the sneaking off,” he shouted, “Thought I had you all figured out.”

You parried another strike from him. “I didn’t do it! I wouldn’t do that to you!”

“Yes you fucking would,” Bakugou shouted, thrusting again. His anger seemed to make him quicker and deadlier that you’d ever seen him before. “You thought you were tricking me this whole time, disguised as a fucking man. You had no idea I’d figured you out until I told you. You were happy to keep on fooling me, fooling everyone in this battalion. What’s one more deception when you've already been lying for months?”

You growled in anger, your temper rising. Your vision tinged red at the edges and your sword felt almost hot in your hands. “I’m not the thief, Katsuki! You're being fucking stupid!”

You aimed a blow at his shoulder but he caught it, moving with almost superhuman speed to throw you off. He whirled around and before you could blink, brought his blade down on yours with incredible strength. As your arm went wide with the force of the strike, his blade whipped up to your chin, as it had all those months ago when he’d fought you and Nishimura.

“Drop your sword,” he said, pressing the flat of his blade into the soft skin of your chin, tipping your face up to his. Your breathing shallowed and you stilled.

It was quiet a long moment, the only sound the huffs of your breath. Over Bakugou’s shoulder, you could see the lines of the other soldiers, Ojiro’s long shadow in the glow of the candles. Sero looked beside himself, twitching like he itched to move, to run. Whether to your aide or away you didn’t know.

“Drop it,” Bakugou repeated. You hesitated and his blade pressed harder into your chin. You let the grip of your blade fall through your loose fingers, heard it clank softly in the grass.

As soon as you had, Bakugou moved, grabbing your arm and twisting to wrench you in front of his chest. His sword pressed diagonally across your shoulder.

“You’re under arrest for treason against the crown,” he growled into your ear. His tone dripped with disdain and his grip tightened painfully. Then, turning to Ojiro he barked out, “Get them back in bed. Show’s over.”

You had only moments to cast one last panicked look at Sero before you were moving, a rough hand pressing you forward. Bakugou marched you forcefully toward his office, sword held steady at your neck. His fingers flexed where he gripped you, nails digging into the flesh of your arm, and the heat of his hands was overwhelming, like he was seconds away from sparking off an explosion and blowing you to pieces.

When you arrived at his office, Bakugou all but threw you away from him, gesturing with his sword to a seat at his desk.

“Captain,” you said, turning to him as soon as he let you go. “I swear it wasn’t me! It’s Hasumi, you have to listen to me. It’s Hasumi!”

Bakugou’s face darkened. “If you’ve known it was Hasumi all along why tell me now?”

“I didn’t!” you cried, taking a careful step towards him. “I just figured it out. He’s trying to set me up.”

Bakugou scoffed. “How convenient," he intoned cruelly, "Just like it was convenient that you, always you saw the thief several times but were never able to catch him. What did you give the others who went along with your story? Are you giving them a cut? How many accomplices do I have to weed out?”

“Katsuki,” you pleaded. “Please listen to me.”

“Don’t,” he grit out. “I heard you that night, outside the barracks. You were begging someone not to let me find out. What if he finds those in my sheets you said. I could have just followed you inside and solved it all then. How stupid I was to have ignored that. To have ignored every warning sign in hopes that you were something more.”

Hot tears pooled in your eyes. “Captain, please. I can explain everything. You have to listen to me.”

Bakugou turned his back to you. The line of his shoulders was hard, and his fist balled at his side. “No. I have no desire to listen to you.”

You stepped closer, your blood pounding in your ears. “Captain.”

He ignored you, stalking over to the door on the opposite wall, the one you thought must lead to his personal chambers. He wrenched it open, almost ripping it clean off its hinges.

“You have until morning,” he said, knuckles white where they gripped the door knob. “I will give you this one opportunity. Go back to your family - you’ve settled their debt. I will tell everyone you fought me and ran.”

You let out a choked noise like a sob, but he shrugged you off as he stepped through the doorway. “Go now. If you’re still here in the morning, you’ll be tried and hanged.”

The door slammed shut behind him with a finality.

You stared after him, the hot tears spilling over onto your cheeks. What felt like years passed as you watched the rough grain of the wood, willing Bakugou to come back out, to take you into his arms and tell you he believed you, that you would figure this out together.

The door did not open again.