#things to look forward to in the next game

[mooningningg]

notes, I feel like after all that tension ya'll deserve action, ty anon for requesting.

★ Roommate!Sukuna kisses you.

It started with a bet.

Because of course it did.

“You’re bluffing,” you snorted, arms crossed as you leaned against the kitchen counter. “You talk a big game, Sukuna, but you wouldn’t last five minutes in my lecture hall.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You think I give a fuck about Western Civ? I could pass that class with a hangover and one eye open.”

You arched a brow. “Oh yeah? Name me one Enlightenment philosopher.”

He blinked. “...Voltaggio.”

“Voltaire, dumbass.”

He scoffed. “Same shit.”

You rolled your eyes so hard they nearly exited your body. “Okay, bet. You fail the next quiz in my class, you'll do my laundry for a week.”

His grin was instant, sharp. “Fine. But if I do—”

“You won’t,” you interjected.

“—then you gotta kiss me.”

Your laugh choked in your throat. “What?!”

He shrugged, completely casual, like he hadn’t just dropped a full grenade into your afternoon. “Scared you’ll like it?”

You scoffed. “No. Scared you’ll start writing my name in cursive after.”

“Bold of you to assume I know cursive.”

You threw a kitchen towel at his head. He caught it. You hated him.

You forgot about the bet.

Sukuna didn’t.

Three days later, he slapped a graded quiz onto the coffee table in front of you, looking like a smug devil in sweats.

A B+. You squinted. “How—”

“I cheated off the nerd in the front row,” he said proudly.

You stared at the paper, then at him. “You don’t deserve this kiss.”

He shrugged. “Wasn’t about deserving it, babe.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. Pucker up.”

“Ew. Don’t make it weird.”

“Oh, I’m the one making it weird?”

He just smirked. “Let’s get it over with, princess.”

So you leaned in.

Fully intending to do a stupid, quick, no-emotion peck. Something harmless. Forgettable.

But then… something happened.

Maybe it was the way he leaned forward too, just a second before you met him. Or how his hand came to rest against your jaw like muscle memory. Or the way his lips pressed too slowly, too firmly, like he wasn’t planning to stop anytime soon.

And maybe—maybe it was the heat that surged between you two like the air itself changed.

Your chest brushed his. He tilted his head. You kissed back.

Harder.

You didn’t mean to. That’s the worst part.

You didn’t mean for your hands to find the fabric of his hoodie or for him to press you into the back of the couch like gravity lost its damn mind. It just happened.

You both broke apart a breath later, stunned. Breathing fast. Too close.

Your eyes were wide. “...That wasn’t part of the deal.”

Sukuna stared at you. His lips were red. Voice low.

“I’m not fuckin’ complaining.”

You blinked. “You liked it.”

He scowled. “You liked it.”

“You’re still leaning in.”

He jerked back like you burned him. “Shut up.”

You grinned, a little breathless. “You liked it so bad.”

He stood up, flustered, grabbing his phone. “Don’t make it a thing.”

“You’re gonna write my name in your diary.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re gonna start calling me baby on accident.”

He was halfway down the hall now. “This is why I should’ve just failed.”

You sat back on the couch, fingers still tingling from where you grabbed his hoodie.

…You liked it, too. Worst of all.

Taglist, @humeysaga @williamafton26 @aranisbaee @probablynotleahhhh @probablynotleahhhh. @beaniesayshi @levifiance @rinofcike @fushiguroooozzz @gojoscumslut @bellsoftheball @kunascutie. @after-laughter-come-tears

[kdh-tally]

Hello!! Love your posts about Kpop Demon Hunters and you made me release my full fangirling, you saved me from feeling empty tbh. Can I request Huntrix and Saja boys meeting their future children while Baby being the Godfather of the all the ships children. Abby x Mira x Romance had 3 kids, two boys and 1 girl, same thing as Mystery x Zoey but their boys are twins. While Jinu x Rumi have one girl and one boy. Thank you!!

Prompt : Huntr/x and the Saja Boys meet their kids from the future...

Author's Note : I really enjoyed writing this one!!! I made a whole chart with names and ages and personalities and everything. Hope you enjoyed!

The group was lounging in the practice room. Bobby, who was also temporarily managing the Saja Boys till they found a proper manager, had forced both groups to take a break. He was fully encouraging of their eagerness to perform, some more than others, but wanted them to relax.

Zoey and Romance were lounging on Derpy, the tiger, as they watched Mira and Baby play an oddly competitive game of uno, something Baby had gotten increasingly good at. Abby sat beside Mira, telling her what colours to place down and Mystery laid half-asleep on the couch. 

Rumi sat cuddled into Jinu’s chest as they watched some silly youtube compilation off his phone. All was peaceful, until Jinu tensed and shot up. Everyone now looked up to him.

“Something is wrong,” he muttered as he looked up to the ceiling. 

Baby raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not just being paranoid dude?”

Jinu didn’t even get the chance to answer before a rip opened in the ceilings. With unexplainable speed, the girls had summoned their weapons, eyes strictly focused on the mysterious–and possibly galactical–tear. The boys had also activated their powers, fingers sharp and eyes glowing as they waited.

Suddenly, a huge group of people dropped through the tear, it closed up right after. “What the-” Mira whispered as they surrounded the group of… kids?

The kids scrambled upright, shrieking and elbowing one another as they tried to get out of the pile.

“GET OFF MY FOOT!!”

“WHO TOUCHED MY HAIR?!”

“Did we just fall out of a portal?”

A girl who looked a little too much like Zoey blinked around the room, eyes wide, she quickly summoned two glassy but obviously durable metal hand held fans. The boy next to her, one of a pair of twins, suddenly pointed at Mystery. “Okay. Okay. That guy looks like dad but more emo.”

“You say that like it helps us understand the situation,” the other twin muttered, he was kinda hiding behind his older sister.

Everyone just stared. No one moved. Then the Mira-look alike stepped forward, arms crossed as her eyes assessed the room. “This is not the penthouse.” Her eyes narrowed at the group of adults in fighting stances. She summoned her own weapon, an iridescent coloured staff, in case a fight broke out.

“Tell us something we don’t know,” said the other pink haired child, summoning glassy red boxing gloves around his hands. A deadpanned look on his face.

Zoey finally blinked, breaking the silence. “Okay. Who dropped eight random children here and why can they make hunter weapons?” She glared specifically at the ‘retired’ demon boys.

“Don’t look at us,” Romance said, hands up before pointing right at Jinu. “He was the most powerful one out of us four.”

Baby stood up, retracting his claws and casually grabbing his juice box (it was a new chili flavour specifically made for him). “Quick question. Who here thinks they may have possibly created life in the future and now it’s come back to haunt them?”

Silence.

Another girl, one with short purple hair and an oversized hoodie, groaned in annoyance, “We were finally having a sleep over…” she pulled out the dual katanas that formed behind her back.

The boy next to Abby narrowed his eyes. “Wait. You look like one of my—” His voice trailed off as he pointed between Abby and Romance. “Oh my god. Wait. That’s them.” He pointed at Mira. “And her.”

“What do you mean, them?” the other pink haired boy asked, dropping his fists, the gloves dissipating into a bunch of familiar string waves as he moved closer to the look-alike. 

“Yea what do you mean us?” Romance echoed, voice pitching high. “OH WAIT YOU MEAN ALL THREE OF US-” he dropped to the ground, jaw dropped as it clicked.

The girl rolled her eyes, realizing there was no danger and releasing her staff back into the air. “Well yeah, obviously. You three argue like co-parents.”

Abby swore he was going to faint.

—

They tried to regroup. Tried.

Huntr/x and the Saja boys sat on one side of the practice room while the kids remained on the other. Derpy nuzzled closer to the group of small humans as happy as could be. He especially took a liking to the purple haired duo that sat on the floor.

The kids weren’t panicking, but they were wide-eyed and stressed. Everyone except the twins. One of them had already sat down next to Zoey without asking, playing with her glass blades (and comparing them with his) as she fussed over them in worry. The other had cornered Mystery (who was still half-asleep), simply staring at him in silence while his sister played with his hair happily.

“Okay,” Rumi said slowly, dragging a stool into the middle of the room like a teacher mid-breakdown. “Does anyone know what could have happened?”

“Last thing I remember,” the girl with Rumi’s eyes spoke, weapon still in hand as she was a bit untrusting, “Noa and I were in our parent’s penthouse. The kids were in the living room and I left to grab something from my room then everything kinda glitched and I fell on a bunch of legs.”

“Yep,” the Abby-looking boy said. “I thought Elio and Noa were just lagging out of reality. But now I think it was the universe.” He said as he sat beside his siblings. His twin must have been Elio and sister was Noa.

Romance raised his hand, only speaking when Rumi pointed at him. “So none of you time travelled on purpose?”

“No!” the kids chorused.

Jinu looked to Rumi. “Nothing changed with the Honmoon right? No crazy new magic?” She shook her head, confirming that nothing had changed. "So what's going on?"

“Someone did something stupid and didn’t tell me,” Baby groaned, pulling out a clipboard from who knows where. “Now, until we figure this out, we treat this like a quarantine. No touching anything magical or trying to fix it yourself. And for the hatred of Gwi-ma don’t trauma bond.”

“Too late,” muttered one of the twins, already curled up beside Mystery like a house cat. Mystery looked like he was actively trying to dissolve into the couch. He was going to have kids with ZOEY??.

Zoey touched her daughter's hair, just lightly, and her hands trembled as the teenage girl leaned into her touch. “This is real,” she whispered. “She’s gonna be real.”

“And so are the stress lines forming on your forehead,” Baby interrupted. Zoey didn’t even have the heart to insult him back. He strutted to the center of the room, pushing Rumi away and into Jinu’s arms.

“Children, all of you get in line and share your names. That will hopefully make this less confusing,” Baby mumbled as he tried to rub the ache out of his head.

The children, funny enough, quickly obeyed. The pink trio stood at the front of everyone. “I think it’s kind of obvious whose kids we are,” the younger of the two boys, Elio, said.

His sister nodded before pointing at each of them. “This is Kai, he’s 14,” to the Abby-lookalike, “this one’s Elio, he’s 11,” to the younger boy who looked exactly like Romance (the one with the boxing gloves), “and I’m Noa, their older sister and the oldest kid here.” She had her arms crossed over her chest as she stood protectively before all the kids. She obviously took Mira’s protective spirit.

"Only by 10 minutes" Zoey's daughter pouted from where she stood by her twin brothers. Romance looked as though he could cry, a wobbly smile on his face as he sat between Mira and Abby.

The next three, who basically had to be dragged away from their parents, stepped in front of her. “I’m Riven. 14.” One of the twins, the more affectionate but calm one introduced.

“Sora,” The girl beamed, clearly taking after her mom. “I’m 17 and the second oldest.”

“Vince. Also 14.” The silent one waved, hand gripping deadly onto his older twin-brother’s.

“That’s our mom,” Sora smiled as she pointed right at Zoey. "And that's our Dad," she pointed right at mystery who was still in shock.

The last two finally stood. The older one, a girl with short purple hair took in a nervous breath. “I’m Linae, Rumi and Jinu’s kid. And this is-”

“Asa!!!!!” the young toddler yelled loudly. The group winced, covering their ears as his magically powered voice rang through the room. That was Rumi and Jinu’s kid alright. 

“Yea, this is Asa. He’s 3,” Linae laughed softly before picking her baby brother up and placing him on her waist. “I’m 17, third oldest by like 20 minutes,” she nodded to both Sora and Noa.

“He takes after you,” Rumi said immediately to Jinu who looked offended. The group couldn’t help but stare at their apparent children from the future. All proof that they shared something deeper than just crushes. 

“Damn,” Baby laughed. He thought he got away, could be free to chill and travel on his own. Suddenly, all 8 kids turned to him, with Asa running up to cling onto his pants leg. 

“Uncle Baby,” the child cooed, signaling for the man to pick him up. Baby looked to Rumi, the child's mom, and she just shrugged. “I can’t believe this.” He mumbled before picking the child up.

“Okay!” Mira clapped her hands once, the sound echoing a little too loudly across the tension-filled practice room. “We’re gonna go have a private adult meeting. Don’t touch anything, don’t summon your weapons and don’t summon any more children.”

“Do we look like we can summon children?” Kai sassed.

“You don’t talk to your mom like that-” Abby scoffed as he eyed the small child.

“Are you and Kai gonna fight again Uncle Abby?…” Vince said flatly, already poking through Mystery’s phone without permission. He knew the password after watching his dad do it multiple times.

Zoey ripped it out of his hands. “Okay—NO.” She looked around at the rest of the kids, eyes remaining longer on her kids before sighing. “We’ll just be gone for a minute.”

Baby unwillingly handed the small child back to his sister. Rumi turned to Linae and Asa. “Watch your brother.”

“I always do mom,” Linae gave her a reassuring smile before immediately picking Asa up and sitting him on top of Derpy.

“We’ll be fine,” Noa said, arms crossed. “Go panic. It’s fine.”

And panic they did.

—

The hallway outside the practice room was dimly lit, lined with water bottles, yoga mats and benches. All eight members of Huntr/x and Saja Boys stood in a loose, silent circle. Well, all except Baby, who sat cross-legged on the floor like he was watching a comedy.

Nobody said anything.

Abby kept glancing at Mira. Romance was fidgeting with the drawstrings of his hoodie like they were a stress toy. Mystery, finally fully awake, was staring into an empty abyss. Zoey had her head in her hands. 

Jinu was blinking at the wall. He was going to have children. Two absolutely beautiful children with Rumi. And Rumi? Rumi looked calm, which made everyone else more nervous.

“Okay,” Baby said at last. “Who’s gonna be brave and say what we’re all thinking?”

“...This shouldn't be possible,” Zoey whispered, eyes wide and still. “I—I mean. We should’ve been busy. There’s been demon hunting, schedules, concerts. When did we even… do the thing?”

Romance coughed loudly. “Technically you don’t need that much time—”

Mira smacked him on the head.

“I think I’m having a stroke,” Abby muttered. “I have a mini me.”

"And he's just as stuck up," Romance snickered.

“Guys,” Jinu finally said, very slowly. “We have children. Named children.”

“One of mine had katanas,” Rumi smirked somewhat proudly.

“You mean one of ours,” Jinu corrected her, a light blush on his face.

Mystery finally spoke. “It was like looking into a three way mirror.” He thought of the twin boys and how they looked exactly like him, Vince copying his hairstyle as well. He thought of Sora, the energetic bundle of sunshine that almost rivaled Zoey’s excitement.

“I didn’t even know you wanted children,” Zoey mumbled before looking right at him. “Do you want kids?”

“Of course he does, you guys have three,” Baby deadpanned.

“Shut UP,” everyone shouted in unison. He took a sip of his juice box, smug.

Rumi leaned closer to Jinu, hands intertwining. “It’s not like it’s the worst thing. I mean, clearly we’re alive in the future. We’re together. We all did something right.”

“But how?” Zoey asked again. “When did we get together? I don’t even remember kissing him—”

Mystery choked.

Abby looked at her. “You kissed him???”

“I said I don’t remember—!”

“I didn’t even know I was part of a—whatever this is!” Romance shouted as he motioned between him and the other pinkettes. “I thought we were just flirtatious! I thought we were playing the long game!”

Mira crossed her arms. “If this is the long game, we lost. Badly.”

“I’m happy we lost. Have you seen our kids?” Abby scoffed.

Baby raised his hand. “In addition to Rumi’s point, you all got insanely attractive future kids with cool weapons and distinct personalities. Could’ve been worse.”

“They call you uncle,” Rumi reminded him.

“They should! I’m awesome,” Baby replied. “And I’m the only one not tweaking out right now. Just saying.” he shrugged. Everyone glared at him but Baby just smiled.

Then, silence again.

This time, it was Abby who broke it. “I think we all need to talk. Not just about those kids, but about…” He gestured vaguely in the air. “Us.”

“I’m not emotionally prepared for this conversation,” Zoey muttered, moving closer to Mystery. “I need snacks or a nap or a hug or maybe all three.”

“We’re clearly together in the future,” Jinu added carefully. “So maybe that means we stop pretending we don’t feel what we feel now.”

Mystery looked down. Romance looked away. Mira closed her eyes for a momeny too long.

Then, Baby stood up and dusted off his pants. “Well, as your emotionally well-adjusted godparent-slash-honorary single uncle, I say you should all grow up and kiss already.”

Everyone threw something at him.

—

Back inside the practice room, the kids were playing Uno. Again. Riven was winning. Elio was cheating.

Elio looked up from his cards. “Think they’re fighting in the hallway?”

“No,” Noa said confidently. “They’re just being dumb. Like usual.”

Linae nodded from where she sat on the couch, Asa snuggled on her chest as he slept. “Should we help?”

“Not until they figure it out,” Vince muttered. “They gotta suffer a little.”

Kai smirked. “Kinda like we did when we fell from a portal and none of them caught us?”

Sora giggled. “Exactly.”

Kai slapped down a +4. “Uno! I WIN”

[meadowfics]

cowardice truth

kang dae-ho x f!pregnant!reader

this chapter is a featured throwback for my 'kang family' series

synopsis: the only time where you've (almost) considered ending things with dae-ho. luckily, you never did. what happened though?

SPOILERS FOR SQUID GAME SEASON THREE BELOW -> DON'T CLICK 'KEEP READING' IF YOU DO NOT WANT SPOILERS!

the room was too quiet for what it held.

everyone here were just survivors now. the rebellion failed and gi hun being brought back from the coffin gave you a bad feeling.

the chances of survival were low.

inside of this strange room, filled with accents of yellow, everyone stood in a loose circle around the towering gumball machine in the center.

the floor was glossy and the silence from players sat heavy like wet clothes clinging to the skin.

dae-ho stood next to you, still.

he is not stiff and not poised... just… still.

gi-hun has been giving daeho crazy looks. you know those looks, its the same looks your mother used to give you.

it is a homicidal look.

you basically had to drag daeho, hand to hand, into this room. before, the guards hung the rebellion players in the huge stairwell room.

the sight nearly made dae-ho throw up.

you forced yourself to look away.

when you did, you saw gi-hun huff before running towards a horrified daeho.

oh no.

yes, what daeho did was wrong. however, it wasn't intentional.

you knew that gi-hun blamed daeho for the failure of the rebellion, and the death of jung-bae.

inside of this room... the gumball machine looked normal. you looked up at dae-ho, your hand unconsciously resting on the bump beneath your loose shirt.

you were still five months pregnant.

seo-ah was still small and still safe inside of you.

“daeho?” you whispered, barely audible.

he didn’t answer. the ex-marine's jaw was clenched so tight you swore it might snap. the man's eyes didn’t move.

they stayed locked on the machine like it had teeth.

daeho's breath was shallow. it was shallow as if he was forgetting to inhale altogether.

you blinked up at him again, confused.

you hadn’t seen him like this.

he was not like this in the beginning, not during the first few games. he was scared then, yes. this… this was something worse. a different kind of fear. a kind that swallowed a man whole from the inside.

it creates anger, an anger you knew belonged to gi-hun.

“participants,” the robotic voice crackled overhead.

you flinched.

dae-ho didn’t.

“the next game will require team assignments. these teams will be determined randomly, by color.”

you sighed.

“please approach the dispenser one by one. turn the handle. you will receive a colored ball. then, proceed to your designated area.”

you looked back at dae-ho.

he was shaking now but only slightly. however, it was enough that you could see it in his hands.

he was angry.

you reached out, gently touched his wrist.

“hey,” you whispered.

“it’s okay. we’re okay. i’m right here.”

at this point, many players were already stepping up and being assigned their colors. red or blue.

he finally looked at you.

your man's eyes...gosh, they looked like he was already mourning something.

maybe you. maybe himself. maybe both.

he opened his mouth, but nothing came out as he looked up past you.

"player 388," the guard calls out.

daeho only takes a heavy exhale through his nose, and then he stepped forward away from you.

the man's steps were reluctant and dragging. he approached the gumball machine like it was an execution block.

click. click. click.

he turned the handle.

a soft thud.

he reached into the compartment and pulled out the ball.

blue.

he stared at it for a moment too long. maybe if he blinked, it would turn into something else. anything else.

slowly, his eyes found yours again.

he didn’t speak, but you saw it in his face.

the panic. the helplessness. the apology.

you nodded at him, gently, trying to be strong. for him. for your baby. for yourself.

“go,” you mouthed.

daeho's lips pressed together.

he walked to the blue side, each step heavier than the last.

the next person went.

another blue.

the tension in your chest grew with each second.

suddenly, it was your turn.

your feet carried you toward the machine while your mind begged you to stop. everything in your body wanted to run and to scream.

you wanted to get back to dae-ho’s side and glue yourself there.

you couldn’t.

the guards could shoot, you knew they would since the players rebellion already has them being stricter than ever.

you placed your hand on the handle.

turned it.

click. click. click.

the thud sounded louder this time.

you reached in.

pulled it out.

red.

you stared at the ball in your palm, the color almost surreal under the fluorescent lights. red.

you had never hated a color more in your life.

your heart dropped.

you didn’t react outwardly and you didn’t flinch. your face did not show it.

however, your stomach churned and your eyes burned. your throat closed up, and for a second, you couldn’t breathe.

you turned your head slowly.

dae-ho was already looking at you.

horrified.

the man's expression broke you.

he took a step forward like he could protest, like he could say no, like maybe if he pleaded hard enough, someone would let you switch. the guards didn’t even have to lift their guns. the unspoken rules were already loud enough.

you forced yourself to walk.

one step.

another step.

you didn’t even feel your feet move. you only felt the growing weight of fear pressing against your chest.

you reached the red side, eyes locked on dae-ho until the very last second.

geum-ja was already there, arms crossed like she wanted to cry. she had to watch her son go over to the blue side. she watched you come by her side.

you stood beside her, but you didn’t speak.

you wanted to cry. gosh, you wanted to cry. your hands were on your belly now. your fingers shaking against the fabric as if holding yourself together physically would stop you from falling apart.

what if you never saw him again?

what if he died in this next game?

what if you did?

what if seo-ah never got to see the outside of this place?

unfortunately, daeho had enough of gi-hun's looks towards him.

when daeho bolted towards 456, mumbling a bunch of "fuck fuck fuck"s in the process.. you almost intervened but geum-ja held you back.

"don't." geum-ja said.

your throat nearly closed in as you watched dae-ho go animalistic on gi-hun. if looks could kill, daeho would've already died from gi-hun's stare.

a guard putting the gun up towards daeho's spine didn't make things better. you would've ran over if hyunju didn't force you still with her strong arms.

afterwards, when the guard announced that players could actually switch colors with someone on another team with mutual consent... you jogged towards dae-ho with an urgent plea.

"dae, we should switch." you pant.

your taller man looks down at you, as if you've grown two heads.

“i’m pregnant, daeho,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you gripped his hands, “I-i don't know if I can kill anybody and if gi-hun’s after you, let me take the risk. please.”

daeho’s jaw tightened, his dark eyes fierce with a protectiveness that made your heart ache.

“no way, y/n,” he said, his voice low and somewhat angry because of gi-hun's silent threats looming, "you’re carrying our baby. i’m not letting you be bait. if gi-hun wants me, he can come for me.”

you shook your head, tears stinging your eyes.

“no?! no! daeho, don’t say that--”

“participants,” the robotic voice cut you off.

you stiffened.

“the next game will now begin. red team, please head to the door on your left. blue team, please proceed to—”

the doors behind you hissed open.

you looked toward them.

dae-ho was still staring at you with the guard's gun at his back, his mouth parted like he was about to shout your name.

you blinked.

only one thought has entered your mind.

does it all end here?

ten minutes later...

as much as you were relieved about not being chased.. you hated that you were a red team seeker.

your heart a frantic drumbeat in your chest. seo-ah is still growing inside you and growing her has been taking some of your needed energy.

your hand instinctively rests on your small swollen belly. being five months pregnant, you were still small.

shoot, most people can't tell you're pregnant with the large 399 jacket you've always been wearing.

luckily there's a silent promise to the child you carry...daeho’s child.

you trusted your man, you love him more than anything.

daeho gave you the comfort you always craved throughout your whole life. you could go to him for anything.

if soulmates are real, you knew that he was yours.

now, that love feels like a fragile thread.

it is stretched to the breaking point by his lies that you have yet to figure out.

before the game began, you saw the way gi-hun’s eyes locked onto daeho, a predator sizing up his prey.

gi-hun blames daeho for the rebellion that went wrong, the one that cost lives and shattered your group’s fragile hope of escape.

you pleaded with daeho to switch teams with you, to let you be the blue team hider so he could wear the red vest and stay safe so gi-hun couldn't kill him.

“i’m pregnant, daeho,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you gripped his hands, “I-i don't know if I can kill anybody and if gi-hun’s after you, let me take the risk. please.”

daeho’s jaw tightened, his dark eyes fierce with a protectiveness that made your heart ache.

“no way, y/n,” he said, his voice low and somewhat angry because of gi-hun's silent threats looming, "you’re carrying our baby. i’m not letting you be bait. if gi-hun wants me, he can come for me.”

you shook your head, tears stinging your eyes.

“no?! no! daeho, don’t say that.”

he didn’t listen.

when dae-ho left with the other blues to go hide... you turned to gi-hun, desperation clawing at your chest since you were daeho's last hope.

or at least you hoped you were.

“please, gi-hun,” you begged, stepping in front of him as he adjusted his red vest, “daeho didn’t start the rebellion. it wasn’t his idea...it was yours! you know that.”

your voice trembled, but you held his gaze, willing him to listen.

gi-hun’s eyes were cold, distant, like he was already somewhere else, his mind set on blood.

he didn’t respond, just stared through you, and you knew your words were falling on deaf ears.

you walked away, your hands shaking, your heart heavy with dread.

player 124, approached you after. he is a player you've never spoken to before. the guy's eyes were widened, his grin predatory.

“looks like he's on another planet. I wonder if he took something out of this." 124 says, opening a cross necklace around his neck.

you gave 124 a dirty look, seeing a set of pills stacked inside of the necklace that the guy carried.

the guards can take my normal cotton clothes, but not this guys drugs? your mind spoke.

"great, he did not. crazy bastard. you know what else is crazy? we could take out half the blues before they even blink.” 124's eyes gleamed with a hunger for violence, and you glared at him, your stomach churning.

“i’m not here to slaughter people,” you snapped, your voice low but firm.

you knew you had to eliminate at least one blue player to survive, to keep yourself and your baby safe, but the thought made you sick.

you weren’t like 124.

you weren’t like gi-hun.

when the reds were released into the maze, you moved with purpose, your knife heavy in your hand.

the gravel crunched under your white blood stained shoes, the sound a constant reminder of the danger lurking in every shadow.

you ignored most of the blue players, their terrified faces blurring as they scrambled away from you.

your only goal was to find daeho, to make sure he was safe, and to eliminate one blue player...just one, as long as it wasn’t daeho or junhee, the other pregnant woman who was trapped in this hellhole with you.

you couldn’t bear the thought of harming her, not when you knew how she felt when it came to carrying a life in a place like this.

the maze was a labyrinth of despair, its brick walls cold and unyielding, the paths twisting into dead ends and sharp turns.

you moved silently, your senses heightened, every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig setting your nerves on edge. you heard whispers of movement, the faint cries and loud stabs of players caught by other reds, but you kept your focus.

daeho was out there, running from gi-hun, and you had to find him before it was too late.

you turned a corner and froze.

in a small, dimly lit room full of beautiful colors, junhee was crouched on the ground, her face contorted in pain as she started pushing out her baby.

hyunju, her friend, knelt beside her as geum-ja helped deliver junhee's baby.

120's eyes were blazing with protective fury as she glared at you.

junhee was giving birth, right there in the maze, her breaths ragged and desperate. your eyes widened, your heart lurching with a mix of fear and empathy.

you took a step back, raising your hands, your knife glinting but unthreatening.

“i’m not here to hurt you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion, “you know i would never—”

“don’t even think about it,” hyunju spat, her body tense, ready to fight.

you shook your head, offended that they’d assume you’d harm a woman in labor, but you understood.

you were a red player, a hunter in their eyes.

without another word, you backed away, leaving them to their struggle, your heart heavy with the weight of this place.

you kept moving, your mind racing.

you needed to find daeho, but you also needed to survive.

the rules were clear for red players: eliminate a blue player or be eliminated yourself.

you rounded another corner and saw her.

a blue player, player 091, slumped against a wall.

she was young, barely five years older than you, her face pale and slick with sweat.

a pool of blood wasbeneath her, seeping from a wound in her side stomach. she was dying, her breaths ragged.

clearly, a red player did not finish her off.

you knelt beside her, your knife trembling in your hand.

“do it already,” 091 mumbled, her voice weak but resolute.

a tear slipped down your cheek as you whispered, “i’m sorry.”

your handsy were shaky as drove the knife into her carotid artery, quick and precise, ending her suffering as quickly as possible.

the audio blared overhead which scared the crap out of you as you ripped your knife out of the girl's neck. the woman's blood spraying on your own upper chest and neck.

“player 091 eliminated. player 399 passed.”

somewhere in the maze, daeho froze.

the man's heart stopping at the sound of your player number.

you’d killed someone.

he knew you had to, he knew the rules as well as you did, but the thought of you with blood on your hands made his chest ache.

dae ho was so focused on running from gi-hun, dodging through the maze’s twists and turns, that he hadn’t processed what it meant for you to be out there, hunting.

he shook his head, trying to convince himself he’d misheard, that it wasn’t you.

deep down, he knew.

you wiped the blood from your knife, your hands shaking as you stood. the blood was all over your face, neck, and arms.

the act had been merciful, but it left a stain on your soul.

you pushed forward, your focus shifting back to daeho. you had to find him. gi-hun was out there, and you knew he wouldn’t stop until he had daeho’s blood on his hands.

you climbed a set of crumbling stone stairs, the maze opening into a wider corridor.

below the next set of stairs, you saw them...gi-hun and daeho, facing off.

daeho’s back was to you, his shoulders tense, his voice rising in a panicked plea.

gi-hun loomed over him, his knife gleaming with intent.

you froze at the top of the stairs, your breath catching as daeho’s words reached you.

“i never served in the marines! i was actually a social service personnel!”

daeho shouted, his voice breaking.

“it was a lie! i didn’t even serve in the military. i’ve never held a gun!”

your heart stopped.

the world tilted, the maze blurring around you.

daeho had told you about his time in the marines since the first week he met you, about coming to seoul after serving near busan.

it was one of the most frequent stories he shared when you met him at the café, back when you were just a barista and he was a charming regular.

those stories had woven into the foundation of your love, a year and a half of trust built on what you thought was truth.

now, it was crumbling.

your hand gripped the railing, your knuckles nearly popped out of your skin as you listened, tears burning in your eyes.

“even my tattoo is fake,” daeho continued, his voice shaking with shame.

“i lied so i could feel better about myself. i’m a coward, gi-hun. a coward. I just wanted to apart of something! please brother, spare me. i’m begging you.”

you couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

the man you loved, the father of your unborn child, was a stranger.

every memory of him...his stories, his confidence, the way he promised to protect you...felt like a lie.

your lip quivered, tears streaming down your cheeks as you stood frozen, watching gi-hun’s face twist with a mix of disgust and pity.

daeho was hesitating now, his head bowed, his body trembling.

you wanted to scream, to run to him, to demand answers, but your body wouldn’t move.

when gi-hun lunged and shoved daeho to the ground, something snapped inside you. you bolted down the stairs, your fear and heartbreak fueling your speed.

you kicked gi-hun hard in the head, sending him stumbling back, his head hitting the ground with a thud.

you didn’t look at him, didn’t care.

you grabbed daeho’s arm, dragging him to his feet.

“get up,” you hissed, your voice raw with anger and pain.

you didn’t notice the blood seeping from his ankle, the wound he’d gotten in his struggle with another player a few minutes before this confrontation. you just pulled him along, your grip bruising as you ran.

you found a small, shadowed room, its walls damp and crumbling. you shoved daeho inside, slamming the door behind you.

he stumbled, catching himself against the wall, his eyes wide with relief at seeing you.

however, terror spreader along his features as he realized you’d heard everything he confessed to gihun.

you stood there, chest heaving, tears staining your face, your bloody knife still in your hand.

the silence was suffocating, broken only by the distant sounds of the maze...screams, footsteps, the relentless audio announcements.

“y/n,” daeho started, his voice soft and pleading, “i—”

“you really lied to me,” you cut him off, scoffing and trembling with rage. “all this time, daeho. a year and a half. you told me you were a marine. you told me you could protect us, that you knew what you were doing. it was all a lie?”

your voice rose, cracking with the weight of your betrayal.

“i’m carrying your child, daeho. our baby... and you built our life on a lie?”

he flinched, his face crumpling with guilt.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“i didn’t want you to see me like this. i wanted to be someone you could depend on, someone strong. i thought… i thought if you knew the truth, you wouldn’t love me.”

“don’t you dare,” you snapped, stepping closer, your knife still clutched tightly.

“don’t you dare say that. you think i loved you because of some fake marine story? i loved you because i thought you were honest, because i thought you trusted me. you lied, daeho. you lied, and now we’re here, in this hell, and i don’t even know who the hell you are!”

he sank to his knees, his hands covering his face as he shook.

“i’m a coward,” he said with his voice muffled, “i’ve always been a coward. i made it all up because i was ashamed. i wanted to be more than what i am. for you. for our baby.”

your heart twisted, a war raging inside you.

you wanted to hate him, to scream at him for betraying you, for putting you and your child in danger.

you couldn’t.

not completely.

its bad.

you still saw the man you loved. the man who held you at night, who still wanted to protect you and your unborn child.

it didn't take long before you dropped to your knees in front of him, the knife falling to the ground with a dull clatter.

your hands reached for his, pulling them away from his face so you could see him.

“i’m so scared, daeho,” you whispered with your voice breaking, "i’m scared of losing you, of losing our baby. i killed someone out there because i had to, because i’m trying to keep us alive. now i find out the man i love isn’t who i thought he was. how am i supposed to do this?”

he looked at you, his eyes red and glistening with tears.

“i don’t know,” he admitted, “but i love you, y/n. I have never lied about anything else. I love you more than anything. i love our baby. i know i messed up, and i know i don’t deserve you, but i’m begging you...let me make this right. let me be the man you need me to be so we get out alive.”

you stared at him, your heart torn between anger and love.

the maze pressed in around you, a reminder of the danger still lurking, but in that moment, it was just you and daeho.

you reached out, your hand trembling as you touched his cheek, wiping away a tear.

“you don’t get to lie to me again,” you say, your voice firm despite the tears streaming down your own face.

your hand trembles against daeho’s cheek, the damp brick walls of the starry night maze pressing in around you. the distant sounds of the game...screams, footsteps, the cold voice of the audio system...fade to a dull hum as you stare into his eyes, searching for the man you still knew. despite his lies.

daeho nods, his expression heavy with guilt, his own tears mirroring yours.

“i know,” he whispers, his voice thick with regret, “i swear, y/n, no more lies. I'll die before I ever tell another one.”

you pull your hand back, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to hold together the pieces of your shattered trust.

your belly, swollen with seo-ah, feels like both a shield and a vulnerability.

“but why, daeho?” you ask, your voice breaking, “why did you lie to me? from the very beginning, at the café, when we were just… being us. why did you make up this whole story about being a marine?”

daeho exhales shakily, his hands clenched into fists as he sits back on his heels, the gravel crunching beneath him.

“i… i was estranged from my family for years before they started talking to me again just recently,” he starts, his voice low.

“they always saw me as weak. a coward. a pussy. sensitive. useless. when i told them i was joining the marines, they believed it. for the first time, they looked at me like i was someone. they praised me, y/n. they called me brave, strong. it was the first time they, especially my dad, didn’t tear me down.”

he pauses, his eyes distant, haunted.

“i got addicted to that feeling. so i kept the lie going. i told everyone i was a marine, because it made people see me differently. it made me feel different like i wasn’t just some failure.” he shakes his head, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“but i’m still a coward. i always have been.”

���stop it,” you snap.

your voice is rising, and desperate.

“stop calling yourself that, daeho. just stop.” you lean forward, grabbing his face with both hands, forcing him to meet your gaze.

“you lied to me, and it was a huge lie. it hurt me, it hurt us, and it put us in danger. but you don’t get to keep tearing yourself apart like this. you’re not a coward. a coward wouldn’t be here, in this hell, trying to protect their girlfriend and our baby.”

he stares at you, his lips trembling, but he doesn’t speak.

you take a deep breath, your anger still burning but tempered by the love that refuses to let go.

“you lied, daeho,” you continue, your voice softer but still firm.

“and it cost us. people died because of the rebellion, because we didn’t have the ammo, because things fell apart but you didn’t start that rebellion. gi-hun did. he knew it wouldn’t work, and he pushed it anyway. this is on him, not you.”

daeho’s eyes flicker with something...hope, maybe, or relief...but the guilt still clings to him.

he nods slowly, like he’s trying to believe you.

unfortunately, the weight of his shame is heavy.

“i thought you’d leave me,” he admits, his voice barely audible.

“when you heard the truth, i thought… i thought you’d take our baby and go. that you’d never want me near you again.”

the pain of his words cut deeper than you expected.

you’re still angry, the sting of his betrayal raw and aching, but the thought of him fearing you’d abandon him makes you want to cry all over again.

“i’m not leaving you,” you say, your voice steady despite the tears, “and i’m not taking our child away from you. i’m angry, daeho. i’m so angry I can barely see straight but I love you. I’ve loved you for over a year and a half, and that doesn’t just disappear because you messed up. it’s going to take time for me to trust you again, but I’m not giving up on us.”

he exhales, a shaky breath that sounds like a sob, and reaches for your hand. you let him take it, his fingers warm and trembling as they lace with yours.

“i don’t deserve you,” he whispers, but you shake your head.

“don’t say that,” you say, squeezing his hand, “just… be honest with me from now on. be the man I know you can be. for me. for our baby. you are not a coward, and you don't have to lie to me. I fell in love with you for who you are, not because of your fake military background.”

before daeho can respond, the audio system blares overhead, its cold, mechanical voice cutting through the moment.

“game over. all surviving players, please follow the nearest staff member and report to the main room.”

you both freeze.

the game is over.

you and daeho are alive.

you’ve passed, both of you spared from the deadly stakes of this round.

daeho stands up and pulls you into his arms, one hand firm on your back, the other resting gently on your belly, where your child grows.

the man's lips press against your forehead, warm and trembling, as tears slip from his eyes.

“we made it,” he whispers, his voice thick with relief, his embrace desperate.

you’re still angry, the sting of his lies burning in your chest, but you cling to him, your arms wrapping around his waist.

you’d rather be angry at him than grieving him.

the thought of losing him, of facing this nightmare alone with your baby, is too much to bear.

you bury your face in his chest, letting his warmth ground you.

the two of you make your way to the dorm room, your hand in his, his limp from the wound on his ankle slowing your pace.

the maze’s brick and gravel walls seem to close in around you and the starry night above a cruel mockery of freedom.

back in the dorms you and daeho find a corner to sit, your knees brushing, your hands still entwined.

the silence between you is heavy but not empty.

the next morning, you wake to a nightmare.

the dormitory is cold, the air thick with despair.

you’re curled against daeho, his arm draped protectively over you, his steady breathing a small comfort.

after you rub your tired eyes you hear the shuffle of boots, the low voices of the guards.

you sit up, your heart lurching as you see them carrying a coffin through the room.

your eyes follow the shape, and then you see her...geum-ja, her body being hanged by a blanket, the fabric knotted where she used it to end her life by hanging.

the sight hits you like a blade to the chest.

geum-ja was like your mother, her kind eyes and gentle hands a constant in your life since you arrived in this hell.

she was the only true mother figure you’ve had ever, the only older woman who held you in this short period of time.

you knew she’d killed her son, a sin that haunted her every step since, but seeing her like this...lifeless, taken by her own hand...sends you spiraling.

a sob tears from your throat, raw and jagged, and you collapse against the bed, your body shaking with a panic attack.

your vision blurs, your chest tightens, the world closing in as you gasp for air.

daeho is there in an instant, his arms around you, pulling your face gently away from the sight of geum-ja’s coffin.

“don’t look, y/n,” he whispers, his voice steady despite the tears you know are in his eyes too.

“i’m here. i’m so sorry.” he holds you close, his hand stroking your hair, his apologies soft and endless...not just for geum-ja, but for his lies, for the pain he’s caused.

he shields you from the horror, his body a barrier between you and the reality of her loss.

you can’t stay angry at him.

not when he’s here with you, loving you like this, his warmth and presence a lifeline in this place.

you forgive him in that moment, not because the hurt is gone, but because you need him, and he needs you.

you cling to him, your tears soaking his shirt, and he doesn’t let go.

“i’ve got you,” he murmurs, over and over, his hand resting on your belly.

“you’ll get through this. I put that on my own life.”

full series masterlist linked here

[wild-jackalope]

Getting handsy and high with your roommate, Sukuna.

You knew you were high when you felt comfortable enough to sink into the arms of your roommate, who—if he wasn’t so high himself— would usually shove you away like you held an ancient sickness.

Your muscles melted, slow and syrupy into his chest, leaving you boneless against the pur of his heartbeat.

“Don’t get comfortable with me.” A warning, maybe—but empty, brittle. Sukuna didn't work with threats. He acted, or didn't.

So you let your head tip forward, heavy against his sternum. Lulled by the thrum beneath your cheek.

“I’m not your damn boyfriend. Get off.” His hands curled around your shoulders and administered a squeeze that was meant to be harsh, but only anchored you to him further.

“Then just pretend, damn.” You muttered.

You took his silence as an unsaid acceptance, an agreement to your words. Either way, it was enough.

Your thoughts drifted, airy and slow, into the hazy feeling. You wondered how Sukuna felt cuddled up with his roommate—friend?— Neither word really landed right.

In truth, you just wanted to be held. By a man.

And a man he was.

It had been too long since you’d been loved, or even touched like this. You missed the weight of a partner and the security of a lover.

So much so, you’d begun stuffing pillows next to you while you slept to roll over and spoon with.

So, with the shitty excuse of sorry, I'm just really high in your back pocket, you let Sukuna fill your need.

And then— a thought suddenly swept your mind— that Sukuna might just be thinking the same thing about you.

After all, you couldn't recall the last time he had a relationship— or a hookup. And you were his roommate, the first to hear; first to know. But nothing. No one.

Just him. Just you.

So maybe, cuddles weren’t the only thing he was starved of.

You lifted your head up, slow and fog-heavy, and he caught your gaze.

You’re sure that if you glimsped at yourself in the mirror, the white in your eyes would be coloured a light pink, just as Sukuna’s were.

He already looked irritated, a scowl carved in place.

“Fuck off,” he grunted, like your stare was searching him to deeply— or maybe, he'd caught wind of the thoughts fogging up your mind.

Your hands that had rested aimlessly against his chest now stirred with flilthy intentions.

His brow tightened, but his eyelids blinked with a noticeable lightness, telling you what he couldn't.

One of his hands moved from your shoulders to cup your neck, but no pressure clutched your throat; instead, his fingers gripped your jaw, holding you there.

You wondered if that’s how he would hold you during sex. Hand wrapped around your neck, but the pressure tucked elsewhere so you could breathe freely.

The roughness on the pads of his fingertips imprinted themselves into your skin, your mind and cunt. Your high made everything warmer, wetter.

Your hands dragged lower, slow and untrained, pressing into the dips and curves of his toned body.

“Brat.” He grunted, fingers tightening just slightly around the curve of your jaw. The name slid off you harmlessly, not wavering your concentration.

Sukuna might’ve walked around the house with tight compression shirts every now and again, but a close-up feel allowed you to enjoy his toned torso more than ever—you could appreciate him properly like this.

You curved your fingers around the hem of his tank.

And his stare turned into fiery judgment, “what the fuck are you doing?”

“C’mon Sukuna, you never let me bring men over.” An airy laugh nestled in your throat, threatening to spill past your twitching smile. “I just want to see..”

You lifted the fabric so it sat bundled above his chest.

“Fuckin’ moron,” he exhaled, words thick with heat.

Your open hands rested on his wide abdomen, palms cold against his feverish, tanned skin. The muscles beneath your frozen digits tensed, and a light laugh escaped you. You pushed into him like he was warm dough, melting lazily against the hard plane of his chest.

When that game lost its thrill, you trailed his inky black tattoos with the nail on your index finger.

By then, Sukuna’s furious stare had crumbled into an expression that didn’t belong on his harsh features. Something weakened by the haze over his mind and the pointed touch of your hungry hands.

You had only noticed the stuttered rise and fall of his chest when your pinky caught on the dip of his v-line.

Your eyes lifted.

The heat on his face had spread from his cheeks to his nose and ears. His lips parted in a lazy snarl that revealed his pointed canines. His eyes, lidded—sedated by want.

He wasn’t even looking at you. His stare had retreated to the ceiling, like your eyes would crack him further.

You pushed your luck, running your fingers closer to the band of his shorts, just grazing the beginning of his snail trail.

Red eyes tracked the touch—sharp but you could see the plea in them.

“Handsy.” He muttered, weakened.

Your nail just breached the elastic of his shorts, before your hand retracted completely.

You pulled your gaze from his face to the bulge that had formed in his shorts.

Your hand followed your eyes like a spell, slow and deliberate, flatterning over his thick, straining lenght that hid behind layers of cotton and self-restraint.

He inhaled, a sharp breath caught between his teeth.

He was big, but just about as big as you had expected. Some lonely nights, your thoughts would wander. I mean, he was a large man—broad, built, tall—and you'd spent too long living with the temptation. It would've been weirder not to think about it.

Even over the layers, you could feel the weight of him. Thick with blood. It made you feel higher than any puff of weed could.

“Just from some touching?” You asked.

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth.”

You pushed your luck too far.

He dragged you off him and pushed you into the couch, led by the grip on your jaw, tight enough to remind you who was really in control.

He kneed his way between your legs, and pressed his thick bludge against the spot where your body utterly melted for him.

The contact was devastating. Both too much and not enough. You arched into him without really meaning to.

“Let’s see how you fucking like it.”

[puck-luck]

hi, could i get a mocha with whipped cream: dom quinn/ sub reader with quinn hughes, thank ya happy 1 year!!

good news to you all!! i conglomerated this ask with another so i have an IDEA of an extended cut, but i'm currently pretty happy with the ending of this blurb. in future weeks/months, i MAY create a part two (or copy-paste these 700 words into a new doc and continue building the story) as a full fic.

i now present: brat tamer!quinn hughes.

Once upon a time, you heard a story in which your sweet, perfect, loving boyfriend Quinn ripped the braces off his brother’s teeth because Jack was bothering him on the ODR. It’s been a goal of yours ever since to make Quinn snap.

You don’t act like this often. At least, you don’t act like this often enough for Quinn to notice that you’re playing a game without his knowledge. The situations are so isolated that Quinn has no idea. He seems to think that you get into moods where his calm girlfriend disappears and his testy brat appears as the replacement. 

When Quinn left to make his tee time, he kissed his good girl goodbye. He returned home to an indifferent wedding planner with little patience for her boyfriend’s wandering hands. 

“Baby, stop ignoring me,” Quinn groans, stretching out on the couch like a cat and putting his head in your space. He’s trying to get his big ol’ cranium on your lap, but that’s currently occupied by your whirring computer. You have a billion (seven) tabs open, running shopping sites and spreadsheets and checklists for a friend’s wedding in several months. You need to buy a bridesmaid dress and you need to consult the requirements your friend listed and the links your other friends pasted in so that no one buys the same dress. 

In other words, you’re busy.

“I’m not ignoring you, Q,” you say absentmindedly, scrolling to the next page of dresses and letting your eyes wander over the styles. Nothing is quite you. “I’m just prioritizing things that matter.”

Quinn shoots up into a seated position, whipping his head around to face you. “‘Prioritizing things that matter?’” he repeats incredulously. “So you’re saying I don’t matter?”

“No, baby, you matter,” you tell him, although you don’t even look his way when you reach over to pat his thigh. “Think of it like this– you had to leave me for your round of golf, and now I have to shop for my friend’s wedding. It’s just priorities.”

“Are you mad that I left for golf?” Quinn questions, frowning deeply. “It was only for a couple of hours and I promised I’d be back before dinner. I’m back extra early, the guys wanted to grab a couple of beers but I turned them down.”

“Aww, I’m sorry. You should’ve gone with them,” you say. “I’m going to be doing this for a while.”

Quinn must catch the smirk tugging at your lips. He deadpans, “You’re messing with me.”

“No, honey, I’m not messing with you. I’m trying to get this done.”

Quinn snatches your computer from your lap and closes it. “Get it done later.”

You finally turn to look at him, holding your hands out for him to return your computer. 

Quinn shakes his head, raising an eyebrow and setting the computer aside. 

You lean forward to take it and Quinn seizes your wrists and overpowers you, laying you back on the couch with your hands above your head. His face is inches from yours, body solid on top of yours.

“It’s cute how you think you’re intimidating. Keep trying,” you tell Quinn. “Maybe I’ll even flinch.”

“You’re pushing the wrong buttons, little miss,” Quinn warns.

“The wrong buttons?” you laugh. “Maybe to you. I think I’m playing with you perfectly.”

“Oh, you’re playing with me, huh?” Quinn shifts your wrists into one hand and brings the other to your chest, pinching your nipples through your soft cotton t-shirt. There’s a bit of force behind it, a spark of pain, and you lean into it. Quinn smirks.

“Mhm, you’re like a broken toy,” you quip, mirroring the curve of his lips. “Still fun to mess with, just not useful.”

Quinn’s eyes flash with something dark, your words hitting a part of Quinn they haven’t before. He takes your words as what they are: a challenge, not the truth.

“Not useful?” Quinn muses, showing his teeth when he smiles next. “Is that so?”

Your skin starts to crawl with anticipation, with excitement. “That’s what I said.”

Quinn’s eyes bounce between your eyes and your mouth. “Not useful,” he repeats, a breath of a laugh making his right cheek twitch. “Let’s get you tied up and I’ll show you how useful I can be.”

[pushspacetocontinue]

"Nah, not really," Travis said, "It all helps that we have some common interests too though. We all like games for instance. It helped that we all grew up playing them in some capacity I guess, and books. I don't really read as much as my brothers did, but I had some books I loved. Alice in Wonderland was Lewis' favourite story. He would read that one to us all the time while we were growing up."

He smiled softly at that memory.

"We all like music and movies too," Travis said, "But I do like hearing my other bros talk about what they enjoy, even if I don't always understand or remember. It's just nice to hear them taking joy in things."

Travis laughed a bit.

"Yeah, well, kind of," Travis said, "I don't do it as much as I'd like to. But it became another outlet for me while I was in prison. Got a long way to go with learning, but I like doing it."

Travis nodded.

"I suppose that's fair enough, and it's your body, you can do what you want with it," Travis said, "But you've adapted even if your shadows do come from there."

His head perked up a bit on hearing the radio changing again, as he kept driving. It seemed wherever they were heading, they might be have been getting close.

"It would have certainly left me a lot more paranoid, and cautious about practicing my monologues, my laughing, and my theatre lines between reading and playing the games Willow gave me to play while I was here," Antonio said, "It was certainly a good time to practice my lines for my upcoming performance in Hamlet."

"I can imagine," Leofric said, "But I feel like you are doing well at discovering its potential, especially if might have been forgotten for so long."

And Rook was putting it to good use from what he had seen. If Russell had also known that Rook could have made it scarier, he would have appreciated the fact she hadn't a lot more. Right now, he was not in the mood for anything like that.

"Heh heh..." Russell's cheeks darkened that little more when Lucien made that next comment, "Well, I'm, I'm sure I, I can get some, some nice peach, nice peach bubble tea in, in the shop for, for when you're, you're in. Th-thank you, Rook. That, that means a, a lot."

It really did, considering just how things had been when Russell and Lucien had met for the very first time. So much had changed, and for the better.

"Oh is it?" Antonio asked, "Then I shall find a way to wear it without losing it in that case."

Perhaps he could get somehow get it fitted into a necklace or other kind of accessory.

"It's certainly safe to say I learned my lesson," Bill said, before his eyes widened, "Aww, you got me a little pressie. That's so sweet of you."

He then grinned in absolute delight when he saw the gold in the pouch.

"Oooh, now isn't this something? We could forge something really nice with this!" Bill said, "Thank you, Rook."

Leofric managed another fond smile on hearing that. It seemed that he had been right in that Bill would want to smith something with Rook again. But then Bill turned towards the door.

"Ah, is that our grand exit out of the pocket?" Bill asked, "It was a fascinating visit, but if we're ready to go, then I certainly am too."

It seemed he was looking forward to where they might have going, perhaps it was because Bill was simply with his found family, so he was happy to go anywhere.

"Rea-ready when, when you all are," Russell just said then.

Willow was glad they were all on the same page and welcomed the change of topic. While she enjoyed hearing about all the ways Travis and Erica terrorized people growing up, she'd rather learn more about the brothers they had yet to meet and file that information away for later.

"I take it having conflicting interests doesn't represent a problem for you." Willow mused.

Erica grabbed the seats as she shot forward. "You can dance? That's so cool!"

"Erica, don't scratch the seats. We'd like to use this car again." Nevertheless, Willow found her double's enthusiasm endearing.

"No claws." Erica said, before she nodded again, "Yep, it's a thing. There are many kinds of elves, some harder to find than others. I just wanted a normal back because I had enough of having extra holes in my body."

The survivors just didn't get that the bullets only slowed down the special zombies. Her tail and ears were enough to satisfy her elven pride and set her apart from the others. She didn't regret the decision at all.

"But I guess that it had some use because that's kinda where some of my shadows come from." Erica added, leaning back again.

Willow was quiet as she messed with the radio again. They were getting close to their destination, they had to be ready to make their entrance.

It had to be handed to Rook that she was certainly showing great self restraint there. She could have attempted so many things to make the pocket far more creepy.

"Yeah, it'd be unnerving to be in here with that kind of background noise." she replied, "Especially since you're never truly alone. There are a couple of fellows in particular that you don't want creeping up behind you. Being constantly on the lookout for which noises you didn't make would be exhausting."

And dangerous, considering the aforementioned prisoners in question.

"I'm just salvaging the pieces, really." Rook added with a shrug, "Between the Brotherhood guys shoving an entire building in and this place being essentially abandoned for decades, it's like we're discovering it for the first time again even with the instruction manual available."

"Even I wasn't aware of its full potential." Veronica admitted, "Although, I'm sure all that energy will be put to good use."

Rook chuckled, "Like I could get any sassier."

"You can't?" Lucien had a coin flicked at him.

"Well, I don't mind the approval. I never exactly got much of a chance to share my interests, being told I'm good at things has the same effect bubble tea has on Lucien."

"I'm well over that. I'm into peach flavored drinks now." Lucien protested.

"Oh, I bet you are. But I'm happy for you guys."

Lucien gave her a skeptic look as they got ready to go again. At least he got a nice bag of gold out of this. It would cover for the small fortune he spent on retrieving his cuffs.

Veronica hovered by Antonio as he put the coin away for the time being. "Chick's magic trace is embedded in that thing. It can be tracked down, so I wouldn't be so quick to put it in a drawer, if I were you."

Not that she could have much of a say in the matter. Veronica knew her limits and for now she would feel satisfied knowing she got a chance to mess with Bill. It was harsh being the responsible parental figure, she never got a chance to mess around.

She put on her stern look as they approached, feeling like having fun a little longer, and let Rook go ahead to check on him.

"Ah, nothing much, we stopped by the gift shop." Rook replied, "We grabbed something for you too. I figured you might have some fun with it."

And she hoped she would get to join in again. It had been nice working together to reverse engineer Ratchet's gadgets. She would have liked attempting some other project.

A new portal opened nearby, ready to be used.

[hyunniesamericano]

Hearts Covered in Frosting

Pairing: Lee felix × fem! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings : none

Summary:A simple afternoon of baking turns into a flour-filled disaster...one that somehow leads to kisses, laughter, and the softest kind of love.

Felix had this separate baking area in his apartment...a cozy nook off to the side of the kitchen that looked like it belonged in a dream. Soft fairy lights dangled above the shelves, and his carefully labeled jars—cocoa powder, cinnamon, cardamom sat perfectly arranged on warm wooden racks. A tiny stand mixer lived beside a vase of dried flowers, and you’d always teased him that the space looked like a dessert fairy’s corner.

It was warm, inviting, and his. You knew how much it meant to him.

Which is why, when the flour exploded in a giant puff across the counter, across the air, and most importantly across you, your heart plummeted like an undercooked soufflé.

You stood there, frozen in the middle of the mess you’d made, holding the sifter like a crime weapon and blinking through floury lashes.

“I can explain,” you said, voice caught between panic and apology.

Felix turned around from where he was gently folding buttercream in a mixing bowl, his sleeves rolled up and a tiny smudge of chocolate on his cheek. He blinked once at the cloud of white floating around the baking area, then blinked again at you-your hoodie dusted in flour, your cheeks matching, eyes wide with guilt.

He stared.

Then, slowly, his lips twitched. “What did you do?”

You held up the sifter. “I was… trying to help?”

“With the lid off?”

“I didn’t know it had one!”

He set down the bowl, wiped his hands on a towel, and walked toward you. His steps were calm, measured, and almost too quiet. You could practically hear the suspenseful background music in your head.

Too calm.

You gulped.

He stopped in front of you and looked you up and down, eyes dragging over the flour in your hair and the streak of white on your cheek.

“Sweetheart…” he started, voice low and suspicious.

“…Yes?” you replied, trying to sound cute. (It did not work.)

“You’ve committed a baking felony.”

“I-what?! That’s not a real thing-”

“It is now. Sentencing: five years in flour jail.”

You gasped. “That’s unfair-”

But before you could finish, he reached down, dipped his finger into the open bag of flour and tapped your nose gently.

Boop.

You blinked.

“Felix.”

He smiled, completely unrepentant. “Oops.”

You squinted at him, then looked down at your hands.

“You wanna play that game?” you whispered, already reaching for the bag.

He backed up slowly, laughing. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“Oh, I won’t regret it at all.”

And then—war.

Flour flew in every direction. You lobbed a scoop of it at his shoulder while he ducked behind the fridge and retaliated with powdered sugar. You wiped buttercream on his cheek. He painted a stripe down your arm. The kitchen turned into a battleground of giggles and sugar until the air was thick with sweet chaos and breathless laughter.

Finally, breath ragged, limbs tired, and cheeks aching from smiling too hard...you both collapsed to the floor, utterly destroyed.

Flour everywhere. Butter on your sleeves. Sugar in your hair. Your stomach still flipping like a pancake.

Felix sat next to you, legs splayed out, hoodie streaked with white, and an absolutely ridiculous grin on his face.

He nudged your foot gently with his. “Hey.”

You looked up at him, cheeks still flushed. “Hmm?”

His voice softened, like the chaos had fallen away and only you remained.

“You look beautiful like this.”

You paused, blinking at him.

A little laugh escaped your lips. “I look like a floured donut.”

He smiled. Slow. Adoring.

“The prettiest one in the box.”

Your heart swelled so fast you thought it might burst. And maybe it did, a little because in that moment, everything felt so simple. So easy. So safe.

You leaned forward and kissed him.

It was slow. Sweet. Still tinged with the taste of vanilla and mischief. His hand came up to cradle your cheek, fingers brushing against the soft curve of your jaw like he was scared to press too hard and wake up from a dream.

When you pulled back, he pressed his forehead to yours and whispered,“No more flour fights.”

You smiled against his lips. “No promises.”

He chuckled. “But I’ll always clean up the mess with you.”

A/n : Wasn’t feeling my best lately, so I ended up writing this bit of fluff to feel a little lighter.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Kalim Al-Asim - Room Relaxation Voice Lines

It's gonna be my birthday, so I wanna learn to be able to do more things. Let me think... Like maybe waking up by myself?

Summon: A pajama party sounds awesome! We can play games, and eat snacks... Let's try it sometime!

Groovification: Getting ready in the morning is so fun when I get to do it with everyone! Today feels like it'll be a great day!

Home:Okay, time to put on my makeup!

Swap Looks: Ahahah, that's some bedhead!

Home Transition 1: Silk loungewear is so smooth and comfy～ Even on hot days they're nice to wear, since it breathes well.

Home Transition 2: My dad sent me a bunch of accessories all adorned with huge gemstones. I think I'll wear them for the next banquet!

Home Transition 3: I was just dancing in my room and almost tripped! Thankfully, the magic carpet flew in and saved me.

Home Transition - Login: I love birthdays. I get tons of people reaching out to me, so I look forward to it every year.

Home Transition - Groovy:  We're gonna be throwing a bash this evening at the dorm. You wanna come? Oh yeah, I should invite Sebek too!

Home Tap 1: Look at this! This pearl Floyd gave me has a funny shape, don'tcha think? He said he found it while preparing some oysters.

Home Tap 2: I ran into Ace out front the Mystery Shop, and he bought me some juice since it was my birthday! I gotta return the favor sometime!

Home Tap 3: Sometimes my siblings like to sleepover with me. Whenever they do, Jamil'd always read a book to them.

Home Tap 4: Oh, hey, one of my dormmates left this board game here when he came to hang out yesterday. I should challenge him one more time when I bring it back to him!

Home Tap 5: I forgot something? Oh, this hairband is mine? It's newly-bought, so I didn't even recognize it. I just thought it was someone else's!

Home Tap - Groovy: Thanks for coming to my birthday party. We're gonna hold another banquet soon, so you should definitely come with Grim!

Duo: [KALIM]: Let's eat some cake, Sebek! [SEBEK]: Kalim-senpai, I accept your offering!

Birthday Login Message: Thanks for celebrating my birthday! Oh, hear me out a sec. Cater and Lilia are gonna throw me a party in my room, so I was wanting to give those two a surprise, too. But I can't really think of a good idea to surprise them back... What do you think I should do? I should give each of them a letter with my heartfelt feelings? That's perfect! I'll try that, they're both bound to love it! Oh yeah, I'll write you a letter too. 'Specially since you're always looking out for me!

Requested by Anonymous.

[camficdiner]

Hi, could I request [1.5] [1.6] [2.1] (older reader), [3.4] [4.2] maybe with Will being cocky about his ability to pick up the reader and Mack betting that he won't be able to score (but it turns out the reader wants both of them)

☕️ Cam’s Fic Diner — Order 048 

🍒 Thank you, angel — this one’s setting the kitchen on fire already. Age gap tension, cocky rookie energy, and the slow-burn hallway setup? Just the appetizer. Main course coming soon. 💌

💬 “You think I won’t pull her? Watch me.”

✨ Description and prompts (Part 1):

characters: Will Smith, Macklin Celebrini

prompt: hallway kiss setup; Will bets he can pull the reader (older, PR staff); Mack says he can’t

type: age gap tension, cocky-flirty energy, hallway build-up

tropes: bet, “older woman x cocky rookie,” mutual pining, hallway proximity

⸻

It starts with a clip.

You’re not even in it — not really — but it circulates all over Sharks TikTok within an hour. It’s from a light post-game interview, some rookie banter. Macklin’s half-drenched in sweat, hair curling against his cheekbones, grinning wide like the kid he still is.

The reporter asks, “What’s something about Will fans don’t know?”

Mack doesn’t even hesitate.

“Oh, he’s got a thing for cougars. Loves older women. Like, can’t shut up about them.”

You laugh when you hear it in the hallway.

Will does not.

⸻

You’re part of the Sharks PR team — not technically involved with the players, but close enough to manage them when they mouth off in front of a mic. You’ve been with the franchise long enough to be known — sharp suits, high heels, tight NDAs. You walk fast, talk straight, and make even the front office nervous when you raise an eyebrow.

And you’re not blind.

You know Will’s been watching you since camp.

You’ve seen the way his gaze tracks you through media days. The way he calls you “ma’am” with the dumbest smirk on his face. The way he adjusts his backwards hat when you walk by like he’s suddenly aware he’s twenty and you’re… not.

You’ve ignored it.

You’ve ignored him.

But that changes when you walk into the players’ corridor and hear your name.

“She’s not gonna look twice at you,” Mack’s voice is smug, cocky in its own right. “She’s older. She’s hot. And she knows it. You’re a kid in her eyes.”

Will snorts. “You think I can’t pull her?”

“I know you can’t.”

You pause just around the corner.

Hold your breath.

Listen.

Will’s voice drops, low and lazy. “You’re underestimating me, Mac. I’ve seen the way she looks at me when she thinks I’m not paying attention.”

“She’s paid to look at you, dumbass.”

Will laughs. “You’ll see. She’s gonna fold.”

Mack claps him on the back. “Sure. And I’m winning the Rocket next week.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Bet what?”

Will doesn’t hesitate. “If I pull her before the end of this month, you owe me dinner — real dinner. Nice place. You wear a tie.”

“And if you don’t?”

“I pay. And I’ll wear whatever you want.”

Mack hums. “Even that ugly-ass turtleneck from media day?”

“Even that.”

They shake on it.

And you turn the corner like you weren’t just eavesdropping.

Both boys stiffen when they see you.

You smile — slow, sharp, professional.

“Gentlemen,” you say.

Will opens his mouth. Probably to flirt.

You don’t let him.

“Will, tuck your damn jersey in.”

He sputters. “It’s — it’s practice—”

“And Macklin,” you add, “next time you want to share my name in an interview, run it through me first.”

Mack grins. “Yes, ma’am.”

You walk away, heels clicking, eyes forward.

But your smirk gives you away.

Because for the first time…

You might be curious what would happen if you let one of them try.

Or both.

Will Smith is down bad.

And you? You’re thriving.

It starts the morning after the bet. You come in early for press coordination — sleek black blazer, heels sharp enough to kill. The boys are still milling around the lower hallway, sticks in hand, hair wet from morning skate.

Will perks up the second he sees you.

“Hey,” he says, jogging over. “You need help with that?”

He nods to your work tote.

You don’t even look up. “No.”

“I mean, I got time. I can carry it to the office—”

“I’m not walking into a press meeting trailed by a rookie carrying my bag like a puppy.”

He blinks. “So that’s a no?”

“That’s a never.”

You keep walking.

Behind you, Macklin cackles.

⸻

Day two: Will brings coffee.

You’re already at your desk, flipping through credential requests when he strolls in like he owns the building.

He sets the cup on your desk.

You look at it.

Then at him.

“You don’t know how I take my coffee.”

“I took a guess,” he grins. “You seem like an oat milk kind of woman. Balanced. Professional. A little sweet.”

You blink once.

“I’m allergic to oats.”

Will turns red. “Shit. Wait, seriously?”

You slide the coffee back toward him without breaking eye contact. “Try again, and I’ll consider not reporting you to HR.”

He sputters.

Mack, walking by with a protein bar in his mouth, just wheezes and slaps the wall.

“You’re 0 and 2, man,” he says through laughter. “She’s burying you.”

⸻

Day three, Will holds the elevator.

You’re in a rush. Your phone’s buzzing, your earpiece is in, and your hands are full of clipboards and folders.

Will sees you coming and jams his arm between the doors. “Got you.”

You step in. “Thanks.”

He smiles. Victory.

Then you add, “For once.”

Mack, leaning against the back wall of the elevator, loses it again.

Will glares at him. “Shut up.”

“She just bodied you in 4K,” Mack says. “Again.”

“She said thanks!”

“Pity thank. There was a tone.”

“There wasn’t a tone.”

Mack leans toward you. “There was a tone, right?”

You arch an eyebrow. “He’s adorable when he tries.”

Will makes a strangled noise.

The elevator dings.

You step off without looking back.

⸻

That night, Mack tosses his keys on the counter and yells before he even sets down his gym bag:

“Still losing the bet?”

Will, lying face-down on the couch, groans into a throw pillow.

Mack laughs so hard he nearly trips over his sneakers.

--

You’re still in the office.

The lights are low, the halls are empty, the silence thick in that post-game hush. You’re packing up final notes for the press team when Will’s voice breaks the stillness.

“You’re always the last one here,” he says from the doorway, casual, too smooth.

You glance up. “And you’re still here because?”

He steps in, hoodie half-zipped, damp curls falling into his eyes. “Waiting.”

“For what?”

“You,” he says.

You close the folder. “Cut the act, Will.”

He pauses. “What act?”

“The bet. The smirks. The stupid coffee attempts. You think I’m flattered by attention from a rookie who’s still got tape burns on his chin?”

That hits.

His jaw tenses. “You think that’s what this is? A game?”

You stand. “Isn’t it?”

Will steps closer — voice low, shaking. “You really think I’m doing this for clout?”

“Don’t act like you haven’t built your whole thing on it.”

“I want you.”

His voice cracks.

You freeze.

“I don’t give a shit about a bet,” he says. “Mack can roast me all he wants. I want you because you walk into a room and make me forget what I’m saying. Because you’re older, smarter, hotter than anyone I’ve ever met, and you don’t even see me.”

Your chest rises, slow.

Will exhales. “And yeah. I’m a rookie. I’ve never done this before. Not with someone like you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

You stare at him. His face is flushed, eyes wild. He means every word.

So you step forward.

“You’ve never done this before?”

He swallows. “Not like this.”

You hum. “Good.”

Then you grab his hoodie and kiss him hard.

He whines into your mouth, body folding into yours like he’s starving for it. His hands hover, unsure where to touch. You guide them — hips, waist, thighs — and moan when he finally grips you like he means it.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “You’re so— I’ve thought about this so many times—”

“You gonna let me show you how it’s done?” you whisper.

“Yes—”

The hallway door creaks open.

You both turn.

Mack freezes in the doorway.

Will’s flushed, lips swollen, hoodie rucked up. You’re breathing heavy, blouse wrinkled, one hand still on his chest.

Mack blinks.

“Well, shit.”

You don’t flinch. “You here to gloat?”

Mack steps in, cool as ever. “Didn’t think you’d crack this fast.”

Will groans. “It wasn’t— I didn’t—”

You cut in. “What if I said I wanted both?”

They stare.

You glance over your shoulder, voice honey-slick.

“If I can have one rookie…”

You look Mack dead in the eyes.

“Why can’t I have two?”

---

Your office is dark now — just lamplight and silence and heat pulsing in the air.

Will’s on you first — fast, breathless, cocky, like finally tasting you has scrambled his brain. His mouth is rough against your collarbone, hands skimming your hips like he still can’t believe he’s allowed.

But then Mack closes the door behind him, and your whole body shifts.

You look at him over Will’s shoulder, blouse half open, lips kiss-swollen.

“Mack,” you say, voice low. “You’ve been watching all week.”

He hesitates — flush already blooming up his neck.

“I—yeah.”

“You wanna learn something, rookie?”

He swallows. “I’ve never— I mean— I haven’t… not yet.”

Will’s head snaps up, surprised. “Wait—seriously?”

Mack glares at him. “Yeah. Problem?”

You smile slowly. “Not at all.”

You lean back on your desk, skirt bunched around your thighs, and crook a finger.

“Mack. Come here.”

⸻

You undress him slowly.

He’s shaking. You kiss his jaw. Unbutton his shirt. Tell him he’s perfect. That you’re going to make him feel everything. He nods like he can’t speak.

Will watches from the couch now, shirt off, breathing hard — dick in his hand and zero shame as he watches you touch Mack for the first time.

You sit Mack on your desk chair and straddle him.

“You ever had someone ride you, baby?”

He shakes his head, wide-eyed.

You press your hand between your thighs, fingers slick, and guide him in slowly — watching his entire body shudder when he feels you.

“Fuck—” Mack gasps. “You’re so— I can’t—”

You stroke his face. “Shh. You’re doing so good.”

You move slow, grinding down just enough to make him twitch. His hands clutch your hips like he’s afraid to move. His mouth falls open.

Will mutters from the couch, “Jesus fucking Christ—”

You glance over. “You want a turn?”

He’s on his feet in seconds.

⸻

Mack’s still inside you, trembling, overstimulated and glassy-eyed, when Will kneels in front of you, and buries his mouth between your thighs.

You moan loudly — one hand in Mack’s curls, the other tangled in Will’s.

“Such good boys,” you breathe. “Letting me use you like this.”

Will groans into you.

Mack moans brokenly. “I’m— I can’t hold it—”

You cup his jaw. “It’s okay. You can come. You did so well.”

His whole body jolts — shuddering release, forehead pressed to your shoulder, whispering your name like a prayer.

Will stands, hard and leaking, panting. “Please—me next—”

You shove him onto the couch, straddle him, slide down in one slow, soaked motion — and ride him until he’s gasping, whimpering, kissing every inch of your skin he can reach.

You come with both of them whimpering underneath you. Ruined. Shaking.

Exactly how you like them.

⸻

After, Mack sits on the floor, dazed, flushed, a total mess.

Will lies shirtless on the couch, still breathless. “That was insane.”

You sip from your water bottle like nothing happened.

“I think I blacked out,” Mack says.

You smirk. “You did perfect.”

They stare at you like you’re unreal.

You fix your hair in your reflection.

Then: “Next time, I want to see what you two look like when I’m the one watching.”

Will chokes.

Mack just groans. “I’m not gonna survive next time.”

You smirk. “That’s the idea.”

[mooningningg]

notes, a very fun request.

★ Roommate!Sukuna when the bottle lands on you.

You had one rule when you moved in with Ryomen Sukuna: don’t catch feelings.

Which was easy, actually. Super easy. Totally fine.

You only shared a bathroom, sometimes a bed, his hoodies, your fries, a few backhanded compliments, and like… a soul-level tension that felt like a lit cigarette between your teeth.

But feelings? Never.

That’s why you both ended up at Nobara’s party, obviously.

It started normal. Music blaring, drinks poured too strong, your feet already sore from standing too long in boots you had no business wearing. Sukuna was lounging on the arm of a couch, beer bottle in hand, all tattoos and tight jaw, pretending not to watch you dance like you weren’t the only thing he’d been looking at all night.

Then someone suggested spin the bottle.

Of course someone did.

You didn’t think much of it. Just dropped into the circle, laughing, feeling warm and light and stupid.

Sukuna didn’t join.

He leaned back against the wall with a red cup in hand, one brow cocked, looking every bit like a man above it all. Watching. Glowering. Bored.

Until some random guy spun.

The bottle clicked, clacked… and landed on you.

The crowd howled.

The guy smirked, already leaning forward.

That’s when Sukuna moved.

Fast.

Beer slammed onto the counter. Crowd split like the Red Sea. He strode through the circle, sneakers thudding, expression unreadable—but pissed.

“Back the fuck up,” Sukuna said coolly, staring the guy down.

Laughter died. Even the music seemed to quiet.

The guy blinked, confused. “Bro, it’s a party game—”

“She’s not kissing you.” Sukuna smiled without warmth. “Spin again. Or I spin your fuckin’ jaw.”

The guy looked at you, then at Sukuna, clearly re-evaluating all his life choices.

“Dude, what’s your problem?”

“You breathing near her,” Sukuna snapped. “That’s my fuckin’ problem.”

Someone from the back of the crowd muttered, “Damn…”

You stared up at him from the floor, eyes wide. “Sukuna—”

“What?” he barked, not looking at you. “You gonna kiss him? Go ahead. I’ll wait. Right here.”

The guy scrambled to his feet, muttering “not worth it” as he walked off.

Sukuna turned to you finally, jaw tight. “You good?”

You glared. “I was until you pulled a WWE entrance in the middle of a dumb party game.”

He didn’t budge. “If you wanted to kiss some mouth-breathing finance major named Brad or whatever, you could’ve stayed home and swiped right.”

You stood up, brushing yourself off. “It was just a game.”

He leaned in, just enough to make your heart thump. “Then spin the fuckin’ bottle and land on me next time.”

You blinked. “What?”

Sukuna stepped back. “Nothing. Game’s stupid anyway.”

Then he turned and walked off like he hadn’t just blown up the party and dropped a confession-bomb in the same breath.

From behind you, Nobara whispered, “...Your roommate is unhinged.”

You stared at his back.

Yeah. Unhinged. And probably yours.

Eventually.

Taglist, @humeysaga @williamafton26 @aranisbaee @probablynotleahhhh @probablynotleahhhh. @beaniesayshi @levifiance @rinofcike @fushiguroooozzz @gojoscumslut @bellsoftheball @kunascutie. @after-laughter-come-tears

[eddiazx]

elevator pitch - eddie diaz x reader

It’s been two months since you and Eddie had broken up. 

Two months of awkwardly working together, not knowing whether you can laugh at his jokes, not knowing what your place in his life was, and pretending like you didn’t know what his lips tasted like. 

Despite the two of you being civil, you know the breakup had changed the dynamic at both work and within your friend group. It’s why you kept making excuses and declining offers to hang out at gatherings that the rest of the 118 invited you to. 

You could only do that for so long though - which brings you to right now. You walk into Buck’s empty loft elevator, since he had invited everyone over for a game night. Just as the doors start sliding closed, a man slips in, excusing himself. 

Not just any man. Eddie. 

Wonderful. 

You give him an awkward, polite smile, and stay on the opposite end of the elevator. You could feel his eyes boring onto the side of your face, but you keep gaze forward, watching the elevator slowly inch up towards Buck’s floor. 

Until it doesn’t. Until the elevator slams to a stop, the lights turning off. 

Wonderful.

Eddie presses the assistance button, to no avail. As firefighters you knew what the average time for help was - and knew that you had at least an hour stuck with your ex in a confined space. The universe was truly out to get you. 

“So. How have you been?” He asks, folding his arms across his chest. Your eyes can’t help but track that movement, can’t help but notice how much bulkier his arms have gotten in just a few weeks. When you were together, you would joke that you didn’t need food, you would just have his biceps for breakfast. If the small smirk on Eddie’s face was any indicator, he was probably remembering the same thing. 

Right. He had asked a question. Small talk. This was going to be excruciating. 

“Good. Just working, which you would know! Heh.” You chuckle nervously, shifting your eyes away from him. 

“Why are you nervous to be around me, Y/N?” Eddie asks softly.

“I don’t know how to be your coworker, or your friend.” You admit, turning to face him fully. It was probably the first time in 60 or so days where you were openly looking at Eddie, bearing your soul.

“I don’t want to be your friend.” Eddie says, and before you could be hurt or offended, he pulls you towards him by the back of your neck, and presses his mouth to yours. 

It was slow, tentative, a brush of lips that was familiar, but with desperation, longing, and apologies wrapped up in it - it was a kiss that warmed you up from the inside out.

When your mouths eventually separate, he murmurs against your lips while he continues. "What I want is to be us, again.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to get some air flowing back into your brain, but nod slowly. You wanted that too.

Eddie repeats your action, nodding small. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You whispered, and this time, you cup his cheeks and lean forward to initiate the next kiss. 

“FINALLY!” A voice comes from the elevator speaker. 

The two of you jump, looking around for the voice. Buck’s voice. 

“Buck?” You question in disbelief. 

“Sorry guys, I had to. I recruited Ravi for his evil landlord connections. I’ll restart the elevator now.” 

You and Eddie burst out laughing, interlocking your fingers together. You couldn't even bring yourself to be mad at your friend's meddling ways because it had brought you to this moment.

Eddie leans in to whisper into your ear. “Want to ditch this and just go home?”

Home. You smile. That sounded perfect.

“HEY! I heard that!” Buck pouts. 

[kuidore]

Romance’s body language with Mira

i think i need to make a list of all the really tiny body language things i noticed Romance (and abby a little bit but romance does them more) doing from like the second time he meets Mira and onwards. maybe im insane but listen this shit has me convinced he’s definitely already obsessed with her *canonically*. so. here!

first time we don’t even get a shot of them in the same frame they meet there isn’t much, but i did notice he seems to be specifically *not* looking at them. Like the type of thing you do when you see someone hot and you don’t want them to know that you think they’re hot.

second we don’t get them in the same frame but two things happen that I’m convinced could’ve caught his attention from the stage and ignited his little crush; when Mira managed to catch *and* completely stop the momentum of that flying heart, and when she demanded that they Kill Them Right Now

then on play games with us. look at where he’s standing after the hot sauce challenge

Now look at where he’s standing after Jinu announces they have a special guests

his ass MOVED CLOSER (and so did Mystery). and you cannot tell me those two are not specifically posing to look cool for their little crushes. it looks like someone just yelled ‘be natural’ in a DCOM.

and then finally when it’s time to bow, he moves right up next to Jinu, knowing that Huntrix will probably line themselves up parallel to the first three of them. So he moves to the second spot, because it means either he’s right in front of Mira or she’s just barely to one side. (Mystery totally lost out to Abby, look at his lips. They’re pressed into a thin line like he’s *annoyed*, i choose to believe it’s about not facing Zoey while Abby is right across from her)

now, the bathhouse

you *cannot tell me* his ass does not look a little bit sad here. look at his eyebrows. This is immediately after Abby accuses ‘that one’ of always looking at him and Mira gets embarrassed and denies it (while checking him out). he is pouting about Abby getting more attention and i refuse to believe otherwise

then he’s smiling again by the time Jinu mentions killing the hunters. Almost like he’s remembering that they have a mission and she’s technically his enemy

When they’re on stage and the Saja boys win that award and she’s glaring daggers at the group, his head is straight forward until the very last second, and then it just *barely* tilts in the direction of where Huntrix is standing. Like it’s so quick and not even really there that I can’t get a proper screenshot, but if you watch his head as he bows and looks around, he turns it to the left a bit but *refuses* to look directly to his right. It’s almost as if he’s trying really hard to see out of his peripheral but didn’t want to actually look.

Then the second time when Huntrix is the one that wins.

Look at their order in the two. Mystery is always closest to the girls, and i’m convinced Abby and Romance are *taking turns* for who gets to stand closer to Mira. Romance also turns his head to look at them even more than Jinu does. Also i genuinely think his smile at them looks just a little less smug than everyone else’s but that’s debatable

The entire signing, all of it. He’s the one standing the farthest from Mira when they take off the sleeping bags, he walks to the entire other side of the table to sit with her. His arm is on the back of her chair the *entire time*. He doesn’t take it off until the very end.

He looks away from her once, *barely* when she says ‘thanks for coming’ to the one fan. Other than that he’s only ever looking at her face or her poster when she’s signing it. Those three photos on the left are from three separate moments where they’re in the bg of Rumi and Jinu’s convo.

he looks away once more when the flowers get thrown at him. other than that finger heart at the end He’s literally not even paying attention to the fans. and that bottom left picture, he gets *even closer* than that, i just couldn’t pause it at the right time. but dude was literally close enough that if he did a duck face he could’ve kissed her cheek. like, even if he’s acting he’s going *over the top* to the point where he’s actively inhibiting the original plan, which is winning over the fans. Jinu’s already decided to use Rumi, Romance doesn’t *need* to win Mira over. But his ass definitely *wants* to.

Then backstage at the idol awards. Like jesus christ man

Her and Abby both just staring *directly at her*, he doesn’t turn away at all until she’s totally passed by.

We don’t see him again until *right here. That photo in the top left where he’s not looking at the camera? They all look sad, but Romance does not look like he’s faking it.

He’s looking down at his nails when they switch screens, he doesn’t exactly look thrilled about what Jisu is announcing. Baby’s face is already relaxed again, but Romance is still barely frowning. He’s also the *last one to smile* when they gesture to namsan tower. looking just slightly off to the side instead of directly at the crowd, like that expression in the bottom right looks half zoned out to me.

Oh, and that photo in the bottom left? *That* is his ‘smile’ when gesturing to the tower. Look at it compared to Baby’s. It’s like it’s not even there. And he’s also *clenching his fist at his side* instead of casually resting it in his pocket like we’ve seen him doing the *entire rest of the movie*

I already mentioned his sour expression when Huntrix shows up at the final battle, but i want to specifically point out that he *clenches his jaw*. His lips are parted, then they’re not.

And finally, this moment. When Mira gets distracted. He *could have killed her here*, or at the very least tried to. He doesn’t even try to push the blade or hit her in the face or anything. It’s fighting dirty, but why would demons care about that? We see Jinu doesn’t when he starts teleporting to dodge Rumi the first time they fight.

She got distracted with him right in her face, that’s usually a death sentence. If the person you’re fighting actually wants to kill you, that is.

[midnightquips]

Warmth

Jake Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake was gone the moment he saw you smile. You had a warmth that drew him in. Like moth to a flame. You, on the other hand? You could probably think clearer if he wasn't on you all the time or your traitorous dog didn't fall in love with him. And maybe it didn't really matter because you see, what Jake wants, he gets. And he wants you, even if it burns him to touch you every time.

Themes: slow burn, sexual tension, mutual attraction, cute flirting, JAKE WITH A DOG (yes, that's a theme within itself)

🔴 MINORS DNI 🔴 Warnings: 18+ content, eventual smut, dirty talk, praise kink, jealousy, soft aftercare, pwp, piv sex, unprotected sex, mild praise kink, foreplay

Author's Note: Y'all know I'm not going to end this week without ending Chapter 1!!!! Thank you for all the love for this ❤︎❤︎❤︎

💫 Warmth Masterlist 📌 Sign Up for TAGLIST

Chapter 1

Part IV– Abort Mission

Don’t ask. Don’t ask.

“So what’s Bob got?” Jake tried. He really did. 

He didn’t want to sound insecure—especially not about Bob of all people—but damn if his curiosity wasn’t burning a hole through his chest.

You’ve been avoiding him ever since the billiards game. And yet, each time Bob returned to the table, your smile reappeared like it had been waiting for him. It made Jake grind his teeth, drink faster, and try not to glare every time Bob opened his mouth near you.

So when you excused yourself to get some air, he waited exactly two minutes before following.

He found you leaning against the outer wall of the bar, taking slow breaths, your face tilted slightly toward the ocean breeze. You didn’t notice him until he spoke.

“So what’s Bob got?”

You blink, startled, turning toward him. “I’m sorry?”

Jake steps closer, his tone light but his eyes sharp. “Hate to say this, darlin’, but when girls like you ignore me for Bob, can’t help but my ego gets a little bruised.”

You cock your head. “Girls like me?”

“Pretty girls.”

You raise a brow, stunned more by the casual way he said it than the compliment itself.

Jake leans one shoulder against the wall, taking the chance to look at you unabashedly. Your dress flutters slightly in the breeze, and you look like a sin he didn’t know how to repent for.

“What’s wrong with Bob?” you ask, lips twitching.

“Not a damn thing. But when I’ve been trying to catch your eye all night, I’d like to think I’d get a reaction of some sort.”

You huff a quiet laugh. “I wasn’t aware you were trying to.”

He stares at you, clearly taken aback. “Not every day I have to try, sweetheart.”

You study him, that unreadable smile still lingering. Girls probably melt under those pet names and that swagger. But you? You aren’t letting him win so easy.

Jake straightens up and steps closer, his voice dropping. “So I’m telling you now. I want your attention. What’s next?”

His own words feel too honest. Too real. Why the fuck did he sound nervous?

You take a slow breath, your tone steady. “I don’t bother with guys like you.”

“Darlin’, there are no guys like me.”

You break into a smile that hits him like a sucker punch. “There are always guys like you.”

And for the first time in a long time, Jake Seresin feels like the one getting played.

You lean back against the wall now, mirroring him, tilting your chin up just enough to meet his eyes. “Does my answer even matter?”

Jake’s voice was rougher now. “It always matters.”

Your lips part, then hesitate. You bite your bottom lip without realizing, until his eyes drop to the movement.

“You keep doing that with your lips, darlin’, and I won’t even bother asking questions anymore.”

“Huh?” you blink, only half-aware.

God, she has no idea what she’s doing to me. The thought slams into him, his restraint fraying.

He takes a step forward. His fingers grazes the hem of your dress, voice low, slow. “I really like this dress.”

You swallow. “I like it too.”

“Something we have in common.”

Trying to push back control, you hit back, “Probably one of the few.”

Jake grins, sharp and sure. “You gotta give me more credit than that.”

“So sure of yourself,” you murmur.

“I ain’t Top Gun for nothin’, sweetheart.”

You hesitate, then give in. “Honestly... I thought you were eyeing Chesca.”

He doesn’t even flinch. “She’s a pretty little thing. But…” He leans in, lips brushing your ear. “Can I be honest with you?”

You barely nod. “Mhmm.”

“Since you walked in, all I’ve thought about is what you’d look like with this dress bunched around your waist, legs wrapped around me…”

You gasp, quietly. Your pulse skyrockets.

Jake’s smile darkens. “Now, that sound I really like.”

His fingers skims up your thighs. Slow. Possessive.

You find yourself rooted to where you’re standing. Every nerve burning. Your brain couldn’t catch up with your body.

His hand comes up, fingers curling around your jaw. His other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to him. “If you don’t want this,” he murmurs, breath hot against your lips, “better say it now. Because I’m about to make it crystal clear I’m interested in you.”

You open your mouth to try and speak but conclude that Jake has indeed rendered you speechless.

He smirks one last time at your gaping mouth before bringing his lips to yours. Instead of a heated one, he kisses you gently, as if waiting for you to come to your senses that this was happening, the tip of his tongue tracing the outline of your lips, nibbling gently.

The softness surprises you, more so when you find yourself kissing him back. Your mouth moving against his on it’s own accord, while one of your arms automatically wraps around his neck.

What the fuck happened to abort? You gasp at the entire situation unfolding.

Jake takes the gasp as an opportunity to slide his tongue in your open mouth, drawing yours out. You taste like cinnamon from the Fireball you’ve been drinking all night and it’s so fucking delicious. He gently bites your lower lip, something he’s been imagining since he saw you, when he feels your grip on his uniform get tighter.

He gently pulls your head back by your hair to gain better access to your mouth and it makes you whimper softly. The sound going straight to his cock. If he wasn’t so aware that you’re both standing outside the Hard Deck, he would have wrapped your legs around his waist already and slid inside you.

Your head is spinning. Jesus Christ this man could kiss. You feel his lips pulling away from your mouth, allowing you to finally breathe but making you suck in again as he attaches his lips to your jaw.

You don’t know whether to cry or kiss him again.

“I—uh—thank you,” you whisper, dazed.

Jake let out a breathy chuckle, resting his forehead against yours. “God, you’re adorable.”

That’s when you feel it. That sudden sting in your chest.

His words are sweet. His touch is careful. His kiss had cracked something inside you wide open. And all you could think about is—

This is how it starts—he kisses you like that, and for a second you forget that this is what he does. That he's practiced. That he probably knows exactly what to say and how to touch to make someone feel like they matter. But you’re not interested in being someone’s high-score.

Jake’s thumb brushes your cheek, noticing the shift in your eyes. “Hey. You okay?”

That tiny question, spoken with so much softness, shatters you.

You step back slowly, easing out of his hold like it never happened. You give him a practiced smile. Closed-lipped. Smooth.

“Yeah,” you say lightly. “That was... lovely.”

His brow furrows. “Lovely?”

He steps forward, but you retreat just enough to keep the line drawn.

Jake frowns. “Darlin’, I don’t know what just went through your head, but that kiss was anything but lovely.”

You shrug, unsure of what else to say, before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, voice light. “Goodnight, Jake.”

Then you turn around and walk back inside.

Jake stands there, mouth slightly open, like he was still waiting for the punchline.

Strike three.

Taglist: @lunatygerqueen @read-just-cant-stop @itsdarchik @writergirl28 @malindacath @ghiodmbd @unsure-but-trying @Lynnevanss @khouse712 @midnighttithe @daggersquaddoll @primadonnasdream @toalltheboyswhowastedmytime

[marafey345]

How Great Ace Attorney uses Outside Information to Strenghen Twists (Big spoilers for both Great Ace Attorney games)

One of the reasons why Great Ace Attorney is my favourite title out of all the Ace Attorney series titles is because it manages to feel so unique while also still having that typical AA charm. Not just with the different period and setting, but also with its game mechanics and most definitely its story. I felt like the story took a massive leap away from how Ace Attorney stories usually play out and it resulted in an amazing story that I fell in love with. But that also got me thinking about how some twists impacted me more because I assumed things would play out a certain way because that's how those things played out before outside of GAA, but it didn't. It never was going to play out that way, we just thought it would. In this post, I'll be talking about 3 events in particular, in the order they occur in and how outside knowledge strenghen the impact of these twists: Case 1-3, Kazuma Asogi and Herlock Sholme's partner.

Case 1-3: Anyone familiar with the trials of Ace Attorney knows that each case will end with some kind of a happy ending. The truth is revealed, the murderer is punished somehow and there's hope of a brighter future for those affected. This case... doesn't do that. They set up this case's importance with the risk of being deported if Ryu's defendant got a guilty verdict and the first half of the trial goes the normal route of a typical Ace Attonery case trying to teach you the mechanics of the British trial system. But then things get murky after Gina fills the courtroom with smoke.

The trial goes on normally until you return to the carraige and notice things are different. There's now blood on the floor, the area under the seats is now empty and the skylight on top can now open. You swear this stuff wasn't there before, but maybe you didn't look down enough to see the blood at first? Maybe you had to click the skylight twice to try and open it? The game tries to gaslight you into thinking that these changes were always there because why would these changes even happen in the first place? These new points were proving the client's innocence! If he's innocent, nothing needed to be altered, right...? Wrong. Because as you play, a realisation slowly dawns on you. You're defending a guilty man.

This is a massive gut punch when you first experience it because nothing like this ever happens. The closest thing was the Engarde case but that was a final case, a story ender. This is case 3! What makes it even worse is the fact that McGilded, the murderer, is found Not Guilty by the end of the trial. For the first time, the murderer gets away with it. We also don't figure out the full truth until case 1-5 and Gina is still in a bad place until that case happens. This case sets the mood for what both Britian and GAA is going to be like. It's early enough that you believe the same formula will be followed and don't expect it to break the 3 major rules that's been established. Breaking this trend helps to strenghen the impact of this case and shape how GAA will go forward.

Kazuma Asogi: Let me try describing someone for you. At the start of the game, this person serves as a mentor, helping us to navigate the courtroom. They stand by our side and guide us through our first trial as a reliable figure while also stepping back when we get our footing. At the end of the trial, they're impressed by how well we do and can't wait to see us get even better. Move to the next case and they're dead. If you're thinking I'm describing Kazuma, you're wrong. I'm describing Mia Fey, and that's the point.

Kazuma shares so much energy with Mia at the start of the game that if you've played the first Ace Attorney game, you already know he won't live past the start of case 2 and are just waiting for the ball to drop, which it does. You also know that Ryu will carry on Kazuma's legacy and become a defence attorney and for Kazuma to become a sort of goal-post, a level of skill Ryu wants to reach, and these two events do occur. What I'm sure you didn't know was that Kazuma comes back.

Unlike the main trilogy, GAA doesn't have spirit mediums so there was no chance of a Mia-like possession happening to bring Kazuma back. But he does come back and he plays a much different role than what we thought he'd play. He changes from a legacy to a rival, making Ryu want to improve so he can face off against him as a fair foe. This change of course in Kazuma's character is made much more impactful because it deviates so much from the role we put him in when he was never supposed to be Ryu's Mia. He became Ryu's Edgeworth.

Herlock Sholme's Partner: Finally, the twist I'm sure no one even anticipated was even a possibility. A twist that doesn't even play with your knowledge of Ace Attorney at all. It relies purely on your knowledge of the Sherlock Holmes franchise. More specifically, it relies on the simple fact that you know his partner's name, John Watson, and who doesn't? They're an iconic duo! Partners who are together through and through. Not here though, as in the universe of GAA, I don't even think Herlock Sholmes and John Wilson have ever met.

When playing the game, you can obviously see by their names that they're based off Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, the Japanese version even uses their actual names. And if that wasn't enough, Herlock is raising a girl named Iris Wilson so you already know it as fact that Herlock's mysterious partner is John, even if it's never said. However, when you think about it, there's barely any in-game evidence to support this claim.

Iris only believes that John is Herlock's partner because the handwriting of the stories that Herlock's partner wrote matched the autopsy report signed as John and Herlock never really looked sad when he should know that his "partner" was dead, along with more subtle things I can't remember off the top of my head. Because we take it at face-value that, naturally, Watson would be Holme's partner, the twist of Yujin Mikotoba being Holme's partner hits so much harder. All because we believed such an obvious rule would be followed.

Great Ace Attorney is such a wonderful game to play with diverse characters, complex mysteries and a wonderful story that kept me engaged until the very end. The twists that I mentioned, even without the added context, work so well and there's many more in the story that are executed wonderfully. If you read this but haven't played GAA, there's still so much story left that I didn't even mention and I haven't even touched the over-arching plot here so I heavily recommend you play the game yourself if you haven't. Trust me, it's worth your time.

[kikyoupdates]

Changing Plotlines ⭑˚💞⭑ 𝑠𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, isekai

A desperate cry on your deathbed leads to you being given a fresh start at life. You're overjoyed at having finally obtained a healthy body and a real chance at living normally, only to discover that you've been transported into a yandere game, where danger lurks at every corner. Determined to protect your new life at any cost, you vow to stay as far away from the major characters of the game as possible. But things don't always go as planned.

previous | story masterlist | next

After receiving Cedric’s letter, you made sure to visit the smithy the very first chance you got. Keeping Flora away from the yanderes was all well and good, but you still fully intended to have a weapon to fall back upon, especially if you were going to have to spend some time with Lawrence awfully soon.

You brought a servant along into town with you, just to be absolutely safe, but you didn’t anticipate anything happening in broad daylight like this. Still, there was nothing you stood to lose from being cautious.

“Lady [Name], are you absolutely certain you want to take this weapon home with you?” the servant fretted. “I’ve never heard of a noblewoman who carries a sword around...”

“That’s nice,” you brushed off. “I guess I’ll be the first.”

“Aren’t you worried about your reputation taking a hit?”

“Not particularly. Should I be?”

“Er, yes. I would think so. Most people certainly would be.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not most people, then.” You finally arrived in front of the smithy and promptly squared your hands upon your hips, smiling brightly. “Now. Let’s go and see what kind of badass sword Cedric cooked up for me!”

The servant let out a sigh. “Yes, I suppose we must.”

Much like last time, he didn’t smother you too much once you were inside. You could tell he really didn’t want to be here, so it kind of sucked to be him, but hey—jobs were shitty sometimes. Such was the way of life.

“Cedric!” you called out towards the back. “It’s [Name]! I got your letter and I’ve come to pick up my sword.”

A few moments later, you spotted Cedric’s toned frame pushing through the clutter. As always, he had on his usual good-natured smile, and his skin was once again flushed and lightly glazed in sweat. Although his character had never been mentioned in the game, you decided he fit the “gentle giant” trope quite well. Even with the sole interaction you’d had with him thus far, you could tell he was a sweet guy with nothing but good intentions.

“Hiya, [Name]!” Cedric beamed. “I’m glad you swung by so soon. I gotta tell ya, I was real excited to show this thing off, especially since you’ve never had a sword before. This will be your first one! I’m pretty proud of how it turned out, hehe.”

You brushed away an imaginary tear.

Aw. He’s so damn cute. Like a big teddy bear.

“I’m excited too,” you grinned. “Will you do the honors?”

“Of course! I’ve got it tucked away real snug near the back, just come right this way.” He hummed as he led you over, and he even seemed to have a bit of a bounce in his step. You supposed he must really have been looking forward to showing you how the sword had turned out. Admittedly, your expectations were pretty damn high, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t let you down. Eventually, he stopped and carefully withdrew a sword within its sheath from inside one of the drawers.

He handed it to you, smiling expectantly. “Here. Go ahead and take a look for yourself.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. The second the sheathed blade brushed against your fingertips, you could feel your heart beating a little quicker. Already, it was a massive improvement compared to Sergei’s sword. You weren’t yet wielding it in a proper stance or anything, but it was a good deal lighter and overall a much more comfortable fit for your height and build.

You slowly pulled the sword all the way out of its sheath, pausing to marvel at how damn glossy the blade was. There was even a small engraving, upon closer inspection. It read: Property of [Name], Zodite’s strongest and prettiest noblewoman.

“Oh my god!” you squeaked in adoration. “This is so cool! I love, love, love it!”

Cedric blushed a bit, folding in on himself. “I’m really happy you like it. I ain’t never crafted a sword for a lady before, but I was thinkin’ something a bit lighter like this would be better, especially since you were saying Sergei’s sword felt a bit uncomfortable to use. The reach on your sword won’t be quite as long, but it’ll make a lot of movements simpler as a result.”

“Yep,” you beamed, repeatedly rotating the sword just to see it from all different angles. “It’s perfect. And the engraving you added is super cute. I wasn’t expecting it. You really think I’m the prettiest noblewoman in the kingdom? Surely that’s just you stroking my ego, haha.”

“No, honest!” Cedric insisted. “You’re super pretty and nice! Granted, I haven’t met very many noblewomen, but I doubt they’d be as pleasant as you. Your friendliness makes you prettier in my eyes. I bet you have a lot of suitors lined up already.”

“Pfft, nothing like that,” you mused. “But I’m flattered you think so. But seriously, you did a great job with the sword. I’m so happy I finally have one to call my own. I realize my request was a bit unconventional, but you still took it seriously, so thank you for that.”

“No need to thank me! I was just doin’ my job, and—o-oh!”

Cedric stiffened up a bit. You were so darn happy right now that you just couldn’t help but wrap him in a big hug. His already flushed cheeks seemed to deepen several shades, but he got over his embarrassment rather quickly and proceeded to hug you back while chuckling.

“I gotta say, this is somehow better than the generous sum you already paid me,” he grinned happily, patting you on the shoulder a few times.

You felt your own cheeks heat up in response. It felt nice to hug someone like this. Honestly, your new life was so freaking awesome. You already had a sweetheart like Flora as your friend, and Cedric seemed like the type of guy you could really hit it off with—whether simply as friends or perhaps something even more than that one day.

But before you could sing his praises any more, you heard the front door opening and shutting with a distinct thud, and scarcely a few seconds later, a familiar face had joined you inside the smithy.

It was Sergei. And when he walked in on you and Cedric hugging with content expressions, he made a sour face.

“Lady [Name]? And Cedric? I... didn’t realize the two of you were already so close,” he remarked.

You pulled away from Cedric and smiled. “I was just thanking him for making me such an awesome sword. Here, take a look!”

You proceeded to show off the sword you’d just recently laid eyes upon yourself, with Cedric watching proudly and occasionally nodding his head in silent approval. But for some reason, Sergei didn’t look anywhere as thrilled as you’d been expecting. You finally had a weapon that felt natural to use, which would make your training go a lot more smoothly. Why wasn’t he happy for you?

Maybe I’m just being overly sensitive. Sergei isn’t exactly the most expressive guy to begin with.

You decided not to read into things too much. Meanwhile, Sergei withdrew his own sword—the unnecessarily long one that was too heavy for your brittle wrists—and handed it off to Cedric.

“I’d like it to be sharpened and greased a bit,” Sergei said. “There are some small chips here and there, so let me know if those need to be mended right away. If so, I’ll come by and pick it up another time.”

“Sure thing!” Cedric agreed, as chipper as always. “Just from a quick look, I don’t think they’ll be much of an issue, so there's no need for a mending quite yet. The maintenance shouldn’t take much longer than usual. Ya mind waitin’ a few minutes?"

“No, of course not.”

“Great! Then, I’ll be right back.”

You’d already finished your business at the smithy, but truthfully, you were still oohing and awing over your new sword. It really was cool getting to live in a completely different time period than you were used to. There was surely nobody else but you who could say they’d ever had such an incredible experience.

While you kept grinning stupidly, all too pleased with your newest exploit, Sergei looked over at you with pinched lips and a furrowed brow.

“You should be careful, Lady [Name],” he advised. “It wouldn’t do your reputation any favors to be seen embracing a person of lower status.”

“Hm? Oh, trust me, I don’t care about any of that,” you shrugged. “Come to think of it, my servant was saying something similar earlier. But yeah, I don’t focus on trivial matters like those. Let people talk. Cedric’s a nice guy. I really like him!”

Sergei’s expression still looked awfully sullen. He was normally quite stony-faced in the game, so this wasn’t too unexpected, but you really thought he’d started behaving quite comfortably around you. Perhaps he was just having a bad day?

“Maybe I’m just imagining it, but you look like you could use a hug,” you offered, then proceeded to extend your arms out. “C’mon. Don’t be shy.”

Sergei reacted by blushing profusely, then shaking his head. One thing was for certain, he was still remarkably easy to fluster.  

“I just told you why you shouldn’t do those things!” he exclaimed. “Don’t—I’m serious, Lady [Name], you can’t—”

Except you’d already hugged him, delighting in how awkwardly adorable he was. The fool, thinking he could dissuade someone as stubborn as yourself. What an amateur move.

He was pretty much stiff as a board and seemed at a loss as to where to put his hands, which sort of made for a crappy hug, but you didn’t mind it much. Even though he was standing around, as if waiting for it to be over, you didn’t miss the small smile twitching upon his lips. He was enjoying it somewhat, even if he refused to admit to it.

Eventually, you stopped. “There,” you smiled. “Now, was that so bad? You big grump.”

“I’m not a grump,” Sergei huffed grumpily.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say.” You had half a mind to tease him a bit more, but if he really was having a bad day, it was probably best to just leave it at that. Cedric didn’t take much longer to return from refining Sergei’s sword, anyways.

“Here ya go,” Cedric smiled while handing the sword off. “Good as new, I’d say.”

Sergei sheathed his sword and nodded, but didn’t bother to thank him. “I have to go now,” he blurted suddenly, and walked right out of the smithy without so much as a goodbye to either of you.

You frowned. “Seriously, what’s up with him? Is it just me, or does he seem kind of off today?”

“Nah, there ain’t nothin’ to it,” Cedric reassured. He didn’t seem bothered at all, so perhaps you really were being too sensitive about things. “Sergei looks all serious and stuff, but he’s a real good guy. He’s patient and helpful. I’ve never even seen him get mad.”

Well, even you knew that based on having witnessed his character in action inside the game, but interacting with him in real life was a significantly difference experience. Here, Sergei was much more three-dimensional and multi-faceted, and without his relationship with Flora in the picture, it was difficult to tell what exactly was going on through his head.

I wonder if he’ll still meet Flora and fall in love with her. If the yanderes don’t get involved, they could finally be happy together. I sure hope that happens.

Hopefully, regardless of what Sergei was dealing with, it would all be alright. He was a good person. Whatever he wanted, he deserved to have.

“Flora, at the risk of sounding too full of myself, I think might be a genius,” you said. You then proceeded to lift up three quizzes you’d gotten back during your various classes today, all of which you’d obtained a perfect mark for.

She pressed a palm to her mouth and reacted with just as much enthusiasm as you’d been hoping for. “Oh, my! [Name], I always knew you were more remarkable than most people, but I had no idea you were such a diligent student as well! This truly is impressive. You’re incredible at whatever you do!”

You lifted your chin up to the sky and chuckled. “Hehe, yes. Praise me more.” It was possible that your academic success was getting to your head a bit, but you wanted to savor the moment while it lasted. You’d never gotten to attend university in your previous life. It was nice that you finally had the chance to excel at learning, something you’d always been passionate about.

“I really could learn a thing or two from you,” Flora sighed. “I do my best to study, but I’m afraid academics have never come easily to me. I don’t have much of an educational background, after all. I’m sorry. You must be embarrassed to have a country bumpkin like me by your side.”

“Stop that,” you frowned, poking her on the forehead. “You’re kind and lovely. There’s no reason to get so down on yourself. Everyone’s good at different things, and the majority of people here have an advantage because they’ve been receiving an education for far longer than you. You’ll catch up soon, I promise.”

Flora blushed. “It’s strange. I’ve never been all that confident in myself, but hearing you say those things really makes me think I can pull them off.”

“Of course you can! Soon enough, we’ll both be scoring perfect on our tests.”

She flashed another cheerful smile your way. The two of you were currently resting on one of the benches in the middle of campus, with a bit of a break before your last class of the day. The weather was sunny and pleasantly warm, perfect for basking outside. You’d had a rather plentiful meal for lunch earlier, so you and Flora were sharing jam-covered scones as a midday snack.

Everything was going perfectly. You couldn’t recall having ever felt such happiness before.

“Hey! You there! That’s right, I’m talking to you!”

Sigh. Why does the universe hate me?

It was Theresa Simmons, that insufferable brat. She really couldn’t give you a break and mind her own business, could she? Like yes, you had thrown a shoe at her face, but only because she’d been acting like a bitch to start with! Your reaction had been totally warranted.

“It’s unsurprising that someone as crude as you would choose to spend your time around a commoner,” Theresa scoffed. “Seriously, have you no shame at all?”

You rolled your eyes at her, unbothered. “Are you trying to get hit in the face again, or what?”

“W-What is it with you and always threatening violence?” Theresa gasped. “You’re behaving even more like a commoner than the one sitting next to you!”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, taking a bite out of your scone. “Violence works sometimes. All I’m saying is, don’t harass people without expecting them to retaliate. Now, shoo, please. I’m trying to enjoy my break.”

By now, Theresa was practically blowing steam out of her ears, bright red from humiliation. It didn’t help that her usual posse was with her, and she was currently being made an absolute fool of.

“You—you!” she cried out. “The night of the gathering at my estate, you told me that you were sorry for hurting me! Was that just a lie?!”

“No, I meant it,” you affirmed. “But I was kind of hoping that you would've learned your lesson after that and maybe toned down the bullying a bit. If you leave me and Flora alone, I have no reason to throw any more shoes. Sound good?”

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Theresa gritted out. Tears were rising to her eyes. God, she was such a big baby. You’d hardly even said anything mean. People who dished out what they couldn’t handle were the absolute worst.

“I’m good,” you smiled. “I’m quite proud of myself, actually.”

“Ugh!”

“Miss Theresa,” one of the other noblewomen prodded. She looked troubled by the fact that their ringleader was progressively embarrassing herself more. “Let’s just leave it there for today. There’s no point in arguing with people beneath us, right?”

The other women nodded in agreement, looking very eager to remove themselves from this uncomfortable situation.

Too bad Theresa lacked the same social awareness.

“You—[Name]!” she exclaimed, jutting her index finger towards you accusingly. “You are very fortunate that my time is so valuable. Otherwise, I would’ve rendered you into a pitiful, weeping mess. But make sure not to get too comfortable. Sooner or later, I will make you regret what you’ve done.”

“I wonder why I don’t believe you,” you sighed.

“Grr!” she fumed. “J-Just shut your mouth, already! I’ve had enough of your foolish-looking face for today. I hope you have nightmares every day for the next, um... three weeks or so! Actually—even longer than that! You stupid idiot!”

She stomped away from you, with her underlings in tow, although they looked quite sheepish as they fled the scene. Which was fair enough, considering her last words had been "stupid idiot”.

“Man, that was lame,” you eye-rolled, then promptly polished off the rest of your scone. “Yummy. It’s sweet, but without being too sweet, you know?”

Although you, for one, were completely unruffled, Flora was staring at you with wide, trembling eyes. “[N-Name],” she said, voice quivering slightly. “I’m very sorry to put you through that. This is all because... you saved me that day. Now she’s decided to start picking on you as well. You must regret having ever interfered...”

You licked the leftover jam off your fingers, then gave her a confused look. “Who, Theresa? Nah, I really don’t care. She’s a bit of a bully, but she doesn’t scare me. Trust me when I say that there are far worse people you could get involved with. Compared to them, this is child’s play.”

“Which people are you referring to?”

“Huh? O-Oh, I was just making a general statement,” you recovered hurriedly. “As in, there are really scummy people that can be found all around, so when you think about it in the grander scheme of things, a bit of harassment from time to time isn’t so scary.”

“Ah. I think I understand what you mean.” Flora cast her head down and fiddled with her thumbs. “But still... having to deal with Theresa can’t be pleasant. I really hope you’re not too upset with me.”

“Flora,” you said sternly, grabbing her hands in yours. “I’m not upset with you. It would take a lot to make me upset with you, and I know you’re a good person, so there will never be any reason for something like that to happen. Theresa will get bored of pestering us before long, that much I’m quite certain of. All I need to do is keep standing my ground, and soon enough she’ll lose her nerve. I think she could stand to learn a good lesson anyways.”

Flora’s cheeks flushed that lovely shade of pink you’d gotten so used to seeing these past few days. You knew from playing Zodin’s Benevolence that she was rather timid and insecure, so you really hoped you could help her build up her confidence somewhat.

“Thank you, [Name].” She eagerly squeezed your hands and smiled once more. “I’m so lucky to have met you. I will always be grateful towards my adoptive father for taking me in and providing me with so much, but I knew the transition into a new lifestyle would be difficult. But thanks to you, I feel hopeful and optimistic for the future. I think... you might be my first real friend.”

You giggled. “Yeah. You’re my first real friend, too.”  

More chapters are available on Quotev!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

💞 main masterlist ♡ character appearances

[sxpphotales]

icl i’m literally on the edge of my seat waiting for hyunju so here’s some hyunju x reader stuff that i have been YEARNING for since the start of season 2. oh my god why does nobody WANT this woman like ?? I DONT CARE IF SHE’S TRANS SHE IS DROP DEAD MY TYPE

imagine hyunju x gn!reader. um expect angst AND fluff lowk lowk … tw for um light gore (?), blood, death, stabbing, etc.

hyunju who is lowkey much more aloof than to her close loved ones. she doesn’t approach anyone outright first unless she needs to. and she’s been rejected by pretty much everywhere because of her gender.

hyunju who meets you right after the six legged race. you barely managed to survive and is just begging to go home at this point and hyunju is just standing right beside you. you stare up at her and lightly nudge her arm. you flash a smile and hyunju is just staring while you introduce yourself. she nods with a nervous laugh and introduces herself as well. before the next game can begin, you two just keep on talking to yourselves with the rest of the group. the entire time she’s just staring at you.

hyunju who knows you’re just a momentary stranger and after squid game is over, you two would never meet each other, but every time she sees you smile and laugh, she wants to stay with you. with you and the group, she feels genuinely accepted.

hyunju who gets quite awkward whenever people discuss about her gender, but you don’t even mention it. you occasionally drop compliments like “you’re looking good. how do you maintain allat after these games?” and she just chuckles, patting your shoulder.

imagine hyunju with a shorter s/o oh my god bro. she would literally cherish you. she’s out here staring at you while you’re chatting with someone else and young mi is on the side whispering “who are you staring at?” hyunju just clears her throat and says no one.

hyunju who lowk freaks out in mingle because she actually might lose you. she doesn’t want to lose anyone else. she just wants to survive.

hyunju who barely makes it with you in a two-person scenario one time. you both are gasping for breaths and while hyunju is there shook, you just smile at her and say “we made it, partner” while holding up a hand for a high five. your faint optimism in this situation is what gets her going. it’s the reason why she’s alive.

hyunju who gets separated with you for one of the rounds and is internally praying. bonus if it’s the round where she loses young mi. she’s crying out to young mi and trying desperately to open the door, because she’s staring to think that the same thing might happen to you too. her eyes are a haze from the loss and she sees you with another group, shakily sighing and running up to her with a smile of relief that instantly fades once you realize what happened. you don’t comfort her closely as the next round almost immediately starts. you just hug her from the side and whisper “it’s almost over.”

hyunju who moves on outwardly but is rotting inside and you being the only one to actually notice it. you don’t pry it open, but it’s rather obvious. you ask her how she’s doing, purposefully sit around her more, and try to talk to her. but then things go horribly wrong.

lights go out and everything is in shambles. people are dying and you, being the great ‘friend’ you are, couldn’t see hyunju and stepped out momentarily, calling out to her. but before you could spot her, you were already stabbed right in the neck. blood lightly tricks down into your throat and it’s the last thing you remember before the world blacks out.

hyunju who finds your corpse by the end of it and she doesn’t speak at all. she’s entirely silent and she just stares. your corpse is being hauled out and she subconsciously steps forward with her outreached hand but geum ja (the grandma) stops her promptly and sighs.

hyunju who doesn’t utter another word after that. she doesn’t know what to think. she lost two of the people she considered family in this entire game. it was too short of a time. she wonders what she could’ve done. she should’ve just voted to leave. it was because of her that everyone else died.

season 3 is coming out soon and and i might write more but lowk angsty hyunju x reader heh …