sinelious

[sinelious]

Fresh Coffee

Pairing: Choi Woo-seok x fem!reader

A/N: I love this man so much and he is criminally underrated (but sadly I get it - he wasn't in the show that much). For the purposes of this fic, we just need to completely ignore the fact he is or ever was married in the show. Also like always thank you to @bronzewasp for the top border (which I'm using on all squid game posts) as well as @bernardsbendystraws for the little coffee borders :)

You boredly tapped your fingers on the counter of your booth. The sign above you read "Fresh Coffee", though the peeling paint and splintered wood suggested anything but fresh.

You’d think you'd get a lot of customers, since the booth was located directly in the station, but ever since that new cafe opened across the road, no one seemed interested in the dingy coffee booth.

You grumbled as you watched a barista across the street wave to a happy customer.

“I hope a meteor comes and crashes into your store,” You mumbled, glaring as if you had the power to cause that event.

Instead, the barista sent you a friendly wave, which you grumpily returned.

It wasn't your fault; the owners of the booth hadn't repainted since the 90s, leaving you stuck in the dingiest-looking spot in all of Seoul.

Still, you wish you hadn't spent so much money on a quality barista course. You couldn't remember the last person who didn't just stop by for a pack of gum.

“Excuse me, ma'am?”

“No, the station doesn't have any bathrooms, but the cafe across the street is very welcoming.” You sighed, spitting out the automated response you had gotten used to.

“No, I…I actually wanted to talk to you.”

You instantly perked up, turning to face the mysterious figure excitedly. “Do you want a coffee? I know this place may not look the best, but I make really good coffee. I’ll even give it to you for half off.” You beamed expectedly at the man, who just blinked back at you.

Woo Seok couldn't help but freeze up, looking at the pretty girl with the toothy smile.

When he had come over to ask you about whether you had seen any suspicious men wearing suits and playing ddakji, he had expected the same annoyed response he had received from the others.

Now, his mind couldn't even think of what he had come here to do as he slowly nodded at your question.

You squealed, excitedly moving to the coffee machine to begin your first order in weeks. As you began to brew, you noticed the man's eyes still locked on you.

Suddenly becoming aware of how you had just behaved, you blushed ever so slightly. “Sorry if I have too much energy.” You apologized, somewhat snapping Woo-seok out of his trance. “It's just that not a lot of people stop by here anymore. I’ve been itching to make a drink that wasn't for myself."

Woo-Seok shook his head quickly. “No need to apologize at all. It’s…very sweet.” He refrained from using the word cute, not wanting to scare you off. Quickly noticing that the conversation was dying down, Woo-seok desperately tried to keep it going. “So, do you work here a lot?”

You sighed, clearly not satisfied with your answer. “Yeah. Pretty much every day. It gets pretty boring."

“Surely you must get some interesting people walking by,” He smiled, and you glanced over at him. Titling your head at the clearly nervous man, you smiled fondly. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

Placing the lid on his coffee cup, you walked over to the counter, about to hand him the drink. Before he could reach it, you paused. “I never got the name for this order,” You teased, and he smiled bashfully. “It’s Choi Woo-seok. But you…you can just call me Woo-seok.”

“Does that mean I’ll be seeing you again, Woo-seok?” You teased, and he quickly nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be here a lot for… business things.”

He wasn't exactly lying to you.

“Well then, I should introduce myself. I’m y/n.”

He smiled, already thinking about how beautiful your name was and how well it fit…every other part of you. “It’s very nice to meet you,” He managed to blurt out, giving you a small bow.

You couldn't help but bite your lip, trying to keep in the giggle you had while watching the funny man.

“So is there anything else I can get you?” You asked, noticing he was yet to leave with his drink.

Woo-seok’s mind raced with the possibilities.

He could use a smooth line and ask for your number, or tip you extra, something else that could impress you. “Well, I-”

“Woo-seok!”

Woo-seok instantly froze up, as a familiar voice called out from behind him. “What’s taking you so long?” Mr Kim’s scolding voice rang in his ears as his boss came storming over to join you.

You raised an eyebrow as Mr Kim darted between you and Woo-seok, before giving him a once-over. “You haven’t even shown her the game. This is no time to be wasting.”

Before Woo-Seok could stop him, Mr Kim turned to you. “We’re looking for a man. He wears a suit-”

“Ahh, stop it.”

“-and he comes to the subway and plays children's games with people.” Mr Kim turned to Woo-seok, whose face was now glowing red as he tried to get Mr Kim to stop giving you the same rundown he gave everyone.

“Come on, take out the ddakji,” Mr Kim ordered, clearly upset with Woo-seok's lack of movement.

Woo-seok glanced at you before leaning in and hissing at Mr Kim, “No, let’s just go.”

Mr Kim gave him a stern look. “What are you talking about, moron?” He gave Woo-seok a whack on the back of the head. “She works at the station. She's got prime potential to be a witness.”

You nodded your head in agreement with Mr Kim, though you had no idea what was going on. You were just enjoying watching how they acted with each other.

Mr Kim grabbed the bag with the ddakji, which Woo-seok desperately tried to grab back from him. Ignoring the silent pleas to stop from Woo-seok, he began doing the demonstration. “He gets you to play, and then when you win, he gives you money.”

“And what if you lose?” You asked, tilting your head, and Mr Kim nodded, somewhat happy to have someone engaging.

“Yes, well, when you lose, he hits you. Like this,” He turned to Woo-seok, who stared at him with the most enthusiastic look he had seen all day.

Mr Kim did his usual bit: pretending to hit Woo-seok. Instead of acting out a reaction, Woo-seok just stood there, blank-faced. His mind was screaming for someone to end his misery.

“Get into character,” Mr Kim hissed, as if his acting was going to affect your ability to remember.

“I don't want to,” Woo-seok hissed back, and the two began fighting, their arms flaying around as they whacked each other.

Their fighting stopped when the sound of your quiet giggles caught their attention.

They both turned to you, though they held varying reactions.

“You guys are so weird. I love it.” You laughed, and Woo-seok didn't know if he should be flattered or highly embarrassed by the comment.

“Ma'am, please, this is serious. We need to know if you have ever seen this man,” Mr Kim scolded, and Woo-seok groaned.

“Of course, my apologies,” You bowed, though you clearly still had a smile on your face. “I haven’t seen a man of that description, but I will make sure to keep an eye out for him.”

Mr Kim nodded gratefully. “Thank you,”

Woo-seok couldn't bring himself to say anything, just allowing Mr Kim to drag him away from the "Fresh Coffee" booth.

As he got told off for being distracted, Woo-seok glanced back over his shoulder, being met with your cheeky grin and an enthusiastic wave goodbye. 

---

“We’re not crazy.”

You raised an eyebrow, turning to Woo-seok, who was red in the face. You nodded slowly as you continued to prepare his coffee.

“I didn't think you were.” You simply spoke, and he nodded, clearly relieved. “Ok…good… I just didn't want you to think that I was crazy. Those questions we asked were for work.”

Despite the embarrassing first encounter, Woo-seok arrived again at your coffee booth the next morning, ordering the same thing. You weren’t sure if he genuinely liked your coffee, or if he just hadn't noticed the cafe across the street, but you didn't want to ask any questions that might lose you your only customer.

“So what are you two? Detectives?" You questioned, with clear curiosity in your eyes as you looked at him.

Woo-seok went silent: not wanting to lie to you, but also not wanting to reveal that he was a loan shark hired by some weird old guy to find this man because he was a part of a scheme that kidnapped people and forced them to play children's games.

Your expectant stare softened as you noticed the clear stress on his face from the question.,

Ahhh, I get it." You spoke up. "You can’t exactly say, it's against the rules.” You winked at him, causing him to blush.

“Well, just so you know, I’ve been keeping an eye out for him,” You revealed, a proud look on your face. It's true that you had spent most of your shift the day before, checking to see if any of the thousands of men in suits had ddakji with them.

Woo-seok perked up at this information. “Really?”

“Yeah, I don't have anything better to do, and you two fascinated me.”

Woo-seok nodded in awe as you finished his drink, moving back to the counter to hand it to him. He couldn't believe someone like you would be interested in helping out someone like him. “Well, thank you…really, that’s very helpful.”

You gave him one of your famous smiles. “Yeah, of course, it's no problem. I’m like your man on the inside.”

Woo-seok laughed, probably way too hard for the quality joke. You couldn't help but giggle at his reaction, shaking your head fondly. “You’re a very funny man, Woo-seok.”

Woo-seok couldn't help but feel slightly insecure about the sudden comment. “Is funny… good?” He asked, and you grinned widely, leaning over the counter so your faces were close

“Funny is the best.”

“Woo-seok!”

You both turned to see Mr Kim waving Woo-seok down, an angry look on his face. Woo-seok returned the angry look, this being the second time Mr Kim had tuned a moment with you.

“Do you think he wants a morning coffee?” You joked, and Woo-seok sighed, “I think he needs one. Maybe then he won't be so grumpy.”

As much as Woo-seok loved and appreciated his boss, he wasn't doing much for his attempt to woo the barista. Sighing, Woo-seok looked back at you, who had already settled further back behind the counter. “I’ll see you around.”

“Wait,” You called out, which Woo-seok instantly listened to, despite Mr Kim still calling him over. “You should come back here tomorrow morning. I’ll give you a free coffee… and something else.”

Woo-seok swallowed thickly, a million possibilities (both good and bad) running through his head.

“Ok?” You asked, noticing his lack of response.

He just silently nodded, knowing that if he opened his mouth, every secret he ever had would spill out. You seemed to have that effect on him.

You giggled, waving him goodbye as he returned to Mr Kim. This time, he didn't even mind Mr Kim yelling at him; his mind just running with thoughts of you. 

---

Woo-seok was nervous the next morning.

He knew it should be because they were trying to end the games that risked people's lives, but he couldn't help but be more nervous about a certain someone behind the coffee counter.

Glancing at Mr kim, he let out an exaggerated yawn. “Ahh, I barely got any sleep last night. I think I need something to wake me up. Like I won’t be able to function if I don’t get-”

"Just go talk to the cute barista,” Mr Kim sighed as he rolled his eyes, and Woo-seok’s face lit up. Not wanting to give Mr Kim time to change his mind, Woo-seok instantly began running towards the counter.

“But be quick,” Mr Kim yelled at the retreating figure, shaking his head. As much as he wanted to solely focus on the plan, he was a sucker for romance.

And he knew he wouldn't let Woo-seok have more than 5 minutes with you.

As Woo-seok pushed through the crowd, he caught sight of you. You looked nervous: your eyes darting around like you were looking for someone.

Woo-seok wondered if you being nervous was a good sign. Maybe you felt the same butterflies he did when you were near each other.

“Hello, I-” Woo-seok stopped when he noticed your cheek. It wasn't bruised, but there was a clear red marking on it.

“What happened?” He quickly asked in concern as you seemed to light up seeing him. “Oh, Woo-seok!" You rapidly hit the desk with your hands. "I met your guy,” You exclaimed, and he dropped his jaw.

“What?”

“The man in the suit,” You explained, with a nervous and excited energy. "He came up to me and offered to play ddakji for money. I was trying to keep him here until you arrived, but after a few rounds, he decided to stop.”

Woo-seok ran his hands through his hair as he took in the information. “Did he mention what station he was going to?” He asked hopefully.

“He wasn't getting on a train. He began walking in that direction. I think he mumbled something about a bakery. You pointed towards one of the station's exits. “He only left about 10 minutes ago. If you hurry, you could probably still catch him.”

Woo-seok let out an excited yell. “Thank you! Thank you!” Reaching over the counter, he hugged you, before turning around and running to Mr kim.

You couldn't hear the conversation between the two, but their exaggerated expressions and the instant running in the direction you had pointed to, you could piece together what was going on.

You couldn't help but smile as you watched the two stumbling men run away, despite your burning cheek.

You had no idea how serious the situation actually was.

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out two pieces of paper.

One of them was a small piece that you had scribbled your phone number on, as well as a drawing of a coffee, that you were planning on giving to Woo-seok.

The other was a much thicker card.

Printed on it in dark ink was a circle, a triangle, and a square. 

[sinelious]

pb&jj roommates au: the one with the spider

Summary: a spider interrupts your self-care night, and you find yourself sharing a bed with two of your roommates. bob and joaquin are mentioned in this one, but aren't in it. same universe as this

Pairings: pb&jj x platonic!reader/ fem!reader (pairings may change in the future)

Warnings: contains fluff and mentions a wolf spider, and killing of said spider. limited use of y/n, reader's appearance isn't described. not proofread.

Author's Note: this was fun to write, and why was i thinking about my old co-worker who said how she killed a wolf spider with her hairbrush, couldn't be me. not proofread. WC: 2.1K based on this prompt: There was a spider in my room and yes, you rescued it by putting it outside, but I still won’t sleep in this room tonight!

You love self-care nights. Like tonight, you're finishing your 10-step skin care routine, listening to some lofi music, finally cracking open that bottle of nice wine that your friend got you, and have some incense burning. An added bonus is that half your roommates are gone for the evening. Joaquin had dragged poor Bob to a basketball game. You didn’t have to worry about Peter bothering you since he knew better than to on nights like these. 

Johnny, on the other hand, was Johnny. Thankfully, his and Joaquin’s room was furthest from yours. That didn't stop him from pestering you 20 minutes ago when you were putting on your clay face mask. He kept on asking absurd questions.

Returning from the bathroom, you plan on spending the rest of the night catching up with Love Island. You prop yourself against the pillow on your bed and turn on the TV. You're halfway through an episode when you see movement out of the corner of your eye.

Looking over, you see one of the biggest spiders that you have ever seen. It's big, brown, hairy, and slowly creeping closer. You let out a blood-curdling scream while flinging the pillow off the bed. You launch yourself off the bed, still screaming, and run out of your bedroom.

You collide with an unsuspecting Peter, which makes him scream as well. You don't think, you just cling to him, and he awkwardly pulls off his headphones and rests his hand on your back.

"What's wrong?" He asks. All you can do is shakily point towards your room.

"What the hell is going on?" Johnny stands half in the hallway, half in the kitchen. "And can we keep the screaming to a minimum."

"Th-there's a spider," you say, still clinging to Peter, who's trying to unwrap your arms from around his neck.

Johnny scoffs and walks over to the pair of you. "A spider, huh? Roomie, c'mon, don't such a..." he stops once he sees Peter giving him a warning look.

You finally let go of Peter, feeling a little embarrassed. "Can you get rid of it, please?"

Before Peter can say or do anything, Johnny is strolling into your room with an air of arrogance. "I gotcha, no need to worry. I'm kinda an expert when it comes to killing bugs."

"Technically, spiders are arachnids," Peter joins Johnny in your room and bends over to pick up the thrown pillow.

You hover near the door and make a noise when Peter picks up the pillow. "It's really big."

"Really big, huh?" Johnny says in a suggestive tone, and you ignore him. Once Peter sees the pillow is spider-free, he checks under the bed.

"Check the bed too, check everything." You have every right to be anxious because you know spiders are the masters of hide and seek.

Johnny is completely ignoring the task at hand and chooses to browse through the things on your dresser. He turns to you, holding up a small framed picture of you and Peter.

He's slightly offended. "Why do you have a picture with only Peter and not the rest of us? Honestly, I'm hurt."

"That was last month at Aunt May's birthday. The rest of you were there," Peter answers, still diligently searching through your bed and blankets.

"Still doesn't answer my question," Johnny mutters while putting the picture back and continuing his browsing.

You feel something brush against your ankles and see Hank, the kitten you found a few weeks ago, walk into your room.

"If you're not going to help Peter, do you mind not going through my things?"

"I am helping. I'm Pete's moral support."

You scoff and watch as Johnny starts smelling your perfume collection. "I thought you were an expert bug killer."

"Seems like Peter has it under control, seeing as he has a knack when it comes to bugs, sorry arachnids."

"Ha! Found ya," Peter exclaims from the other side of your bed. He bends down and scoops something into his hand, and you try not to gag at the sight of him casually picking up that thing.

That catches Johnny's attention. "Oh, let me see." Peter heads towards Johnny, one of his hands covering the other. Peter cracks his hand slightly open for Johnny to see.

Johnny jumps back slightly. "Eugh! Okay, you were right, the thing is huge." He wipes his hands down his shirt as if he had touched the spider.

Peter laughs. "Let me just put this little guy outside."

Before you can thank Peter. Hank chooses that moment to mountain climb Peter's back with his claws out. Peter lets out a yell and automatically throws his hands in the air. Causing you and Johnny to start screaming as the spider soars into the air and lands on the dresser.

A still screaming Johnny grabs the first thing he sees from your dresser and slams it down on the spider before it can run off the side.

There's a moment of silence before you start laughing and point at Johnny.

"You should've seen you're face," you say in between giggles. "It looked like your soul left your body."

"Yeah, yeah," Johnny said, but he was fighting back his own smile, "at least it's dead, you're welcome."

"I said I wanted it gone, not dead. Watch as its family comes after me in the middle of the night. Don't spiders remember faces or something like that?" The last part is directed towards Peter, who is now holding a purring Hank.

"Well, actually, now that you ask-"

"Never mind, forget I asked. There's no way I'm staying in here. tonight."

"Oh, c'mon. The spider is dead," Johnny says as he points to the hairbrush.

You cross your arms. "And what about its family?"

"What are you going to do? Sleep in the living room?"

That's precisely what you did, but now you're regretting it since it's freezing in the living room. You get up and head towards your bedroom, but pause in the doorway. It might seem childish, but you can't shake the feeling of what if another spider is in your room.

It wouldn't be so bad if you had Hank, since he's a pro bug hunter. Unfortunately, Hank has taken up residence in Joaquin's room these past few nights. What a little traitor. You know he's not in Joaquin's room since he likes to keep his door closed when he's not in the apartment.

You might regret this later, but right now you don't care. Peter's door is slightly cracked up with a light still on. Without giving a second thought, you lightly tap on the door.

It swings open, and Peter stands in front of you with rumpled hair. "Sorry, did I wake you? I can just..." you gesture over your shoulder and are about to turn away when he stops you.

"No, no. It's fine, I was just working on something. What's up?" His warm smile has a calming effect. Taking in his appearance, it looks like he's about to turn it. Peter has on his usual plaid pajama pants and a shirt that says,

The optimist sees the glass half full.

The pessimist sees the glass half empty.

The chemist see the glass completely full, half in the liquid state and half in the vapor state.

Seeing your hesitation, Peter steps back as a silent 'come in'. There's only been a few times that you've been in Peter's room since moving in. His room is sort of an organized chaotic mess. There are old computer parts and other odd objects strewn across his desk. Hank is draped across the computer monitor, sound asleep.

Peter is about to suggest watching a movie when you blurt out. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

"Yes," he says a little too quickly, but backtracks. "I-I-uh mean wh-why?"

"I don't wanna make it weird or uncomfortable, but I don't wanna sleep in my room tonight. I know the spider is gone, but what if its brother or sister decides to take revenge."

Peter says your name in a reassuring tone. "We were lab partners in high school. I think we're past weird or uncomfortable."

"True."

Peter shuts his bedroom door without thinking about Hank's 3am zoomies.

"What side do you usually sleep on?" You ask, his bed is pushed up against the wall.

"It doesn't matter, you're the guest, you pick."

You crawl into his bed and scoot closer to the wall as Peter climbs in after you. He puts his bedside lamp on the lowest setting.

"Or do you want it off?"

"No, it's fine." You turn on your side that's facing him and watch as he tries to get comfortable. You feel a plop at the end of Peter's bed and watch as Hank makes himself into a loaf between your bodies.

Peter mirrors your position and tucks his hands underneath his head. "You know what this reminds me of?" He says quietly.

"Hm?"

"Senior year of chemistry."

"Oh, yeah, you basically carried our grade on your back the whole year," you say.

"You weren't that useless," you shove him and he laughs, "I mean, all those late nights studying at my place."

"Ugh, don't remind me. All I remember from those nights is wanting to burn the chemistry book and cry."

"Oh! Do you remember that time when you wanted to impress what's his face and you asked me to-"

"Peter, stop!" You whine and cover your face with his spare pillow. "That's so embarrassing, and I don't want to reminisce about that."

He tries to tug the pillow away, but you're not letting up. "I thought it was cute," you peek out from the pillow, waiting for the but, "and also a little embarrassing, and you can't forget messy!"

You sit up and start whacking him with the pillow. He doesn't even try to stop and continues to cackle. "At least you got his attention! He definitely didn't forget your face or name the rest of the year!"

"Peter Parker! I swear to god," you're still whacking him with the pillow when the door is thrown open.

"Again, what is with all the noise? A man is trying to get his beauty sleep." Johnny is standing in the doorway. His annoyance is replaced with amusement when he sees the position you and Peter are in. You didn't realize you're half sprawled on top of Peter.

Johnny enters the room and gestures at you two. "What's going on here? I thought you said you didn't have a crush on Parker."

"Crush?"

"I don't!" Your voice almost drowns out Peter's. "I'm sleeping here platonically because of the spider."

Johnny isn't buying it. "Uh-huh, classic line."

"How is that a line? It's the truth."

"You know if you wanted to sleep with someone, you could've come to me."

"I know, or should I say who, you do in your bed. So, that's a hard pass," you say with disgust.

He ignores your jab. "Hey! I'm the one who killed the spider."

"That Peter found."

"Well, Peter-"

"Guys, guys! Can we not? It's too late for this back and forth." Peter interrupts. "Let's just all get some sleep, sorry if we woke you, Johnny." Peter settles back on his pillow and stares blankly up at him.

Johnny mutters something under his breath that neither you nor Peter catches, and gives a dramatic sigh. "Alright, scooch." He motions for either one of you to move.

"What?" Peter dumbly says, and Johnny rolls his eyes.

Your eyes widen, and you start to loudly protest as Johnny starts climbing over Peter. "Ew! What are you doing? Get away," you begin shoving at Johnny's chest to get him off the bed, but it's basically impossible.

Johnny manages to squish himself between the wall and you. It isn't exactly comfortable. You're half lying on Peter's chest, and Johnny's chest is plastered to your back.

"Comfy, am I right?"

You ram your elbow into whatever part of him you can reach, and he lets out a groan. "Ugh, why are you so hot?" You complain, and it's the truth. Johnny's body feels like a radiator compared to Peter's.

"Glad you're finally starting to notice, roomie," Johnny says right into your ear.

"I meant, your body temperature-wise. Again, why are you here?"

"Just trying to protect you from other potential spiders lurking around. Ya know, I am the one who killed the first one."

"Wow, my knight in shining armor," you sarcastically say.

"You guys done?" Peter asks, and you whisper a sorry before he turns off the lamp.

Despite the dark and quiet of the room, you're still finding it hard to sleep, probably because you're smooshed between two bodies. You feel two arms hesitantly wrap around your torso.

"Is this okay? Platonically, of course," Johnny quietly asks. You're about to say no, but stop yourself.

"Yeah, it's fine." He pulls you closer and lets out a contented sigh.

This wasn't how you expected your self-care night to end, but it could've been worse.

[sinelious]

hii could you write about reader and thanos and namgyu trying cid or shrooms together and comforting reader if she freaks out or has a bad trip?? If not thats fine

Trip-sitters

thanos x fem! reader, nam-gyu x fem! reader

༺♱༻  warnings:  drugs,  other then that it's pure fluff

༺♱༻  summary: just the request but instead of your usual psychedelics it's the pills

༺♱༻ word count:  1,354

༺♱༻  authors  note:  i  haven't  written  in  MONTHS.  putting  my writing out  there  is  always  so  scary  and  i  feel  like  i'm  not  great  at  it.  BUT  i've  been  itching  to  cook something  and  i  really  liked  this  request  so  i  hope  it  doesn't  disappoint!  this  is  also  my  first  time  writing  for  nam-gyu  like  this.

caps and grammar are style preferences

༺♱༻  thanos  and  nam-gyu  were  pretty  much  always  on  something  every  time  you  hung  out.  usually,  you'd  turn  down  whatever  they  offered.

༺♱༻  but  while  you're  at  the  boys'  apartment,  thanos  pops  open  his  cross  necklace,  revealing  a  handful  of  colorful  pills  tucked  inside.  you  can’t  help  it; this  time,  you're  intrigued.

༺♱༻  you’d  never  seen  pills  like  that  before,  you  could  almost  confuse  them  for  candy.  after  thanos  went  on  a  whole  spiel  about  how  they  were  some  crazy  new  synthetic  drug  better  then  ecstasy,  you  said  fuck  it.

༺♱༻  thanos  grabbed  a  blue  pill  for  himself,  handed  you  a  yellow  one,  and  nam-gyu  a  red  one.  “cheers  gang”

༺♱༻   it  had  only  been  about  5  minutes  before  you  hear  thanos  exhale  a  long,  “fuuuuuck” 

༺♱༻  his  pupils  are  blown  out  as  he  scans  his  head  around  the  room,  taking  in  his  come  up.

༺♱༻  you  turn  toward  nam-gyu  and  see  him  hunched  over,  his  face  completely  buried  in  his  hands. “gyu?”

༺♱༻  nam-gyu  slowly  lifts  his  head  up,  lightly  dragging  his  finger  tips  down  his  face  as  he  turns  toward  you.  “y/n.”  he  breathes  “this  is  fucking  amazing.”

༺♱༻  a  couple  minutes  pass,  and  nothing’s  changed  for  you. 

༺♱༻  you  cross  your  arms  and  pout,  “i  don’t  feel  anything.” 

༺♱༻  thanos  snaps  his  head  up,  “yo,  what?”

༺♱༻  thanos  leans  over  where  you’re  both  slouched  on  the  couch,  eyes  darting  across  your  face  before  he  shakes  his  head.  "nah,  we  can’t  be  having  that.  you  gotta  feel  this  shit  senõrita." 

༺♱༻  he  opens  the  cross  necklace,  the  soft  click  catching  nam-gyu’s  attention.  he  turns  his  head,  "you'  giving  her  another  one?"

༺♱༻  "she  needs  it.."  the  words  drag  from  thanos's  lips  as  he  picks  up  a  pill.  "open."  he  mutters.  you  part  your  lips  for  him,  and  he  delicately  places  it  on  your  tongue.  

༺♱༻  he  closes  his  necklace  again,  “we  should  go  to  pentagon!”  thanos  practically  shouts  as  he  pushes  himself  off  the  couch,  the  tenderness  he  showed  just  a  second  ago  clearly  dissipated  into  child-like  excitement.

༺♱༻  nam-gyu’s  arms  are  folded  across  his  chest.  he  closes  his  eyes  and  shakes  his  head, moving agonizingly slow,  “nah..dude.” 

༺♱༻  “c’mon  gyu  i’m  down.”  you  grab  onto  his  hand  and  attempt  to  pull  the  two  of  you  up,  but  the  second  you  stand..

fuck.

 ༺♱༻  you  immediately  find  yourself  falling  back  on  the  couch,  stuck  this  time.

༺♱༻  an  intense  head  rush  crashed  over  you  like  violent  waves.  suddenly,  the  lights  are  too  bright,  the  tv  is  too  loud,  and  the  ceiling  fan  squeaks  and  echoes  in  ways  that  taunt  you.

༺♱༻  was  it  the  first  pill?  or  the  second?  or  was  it  both  hitting  at  once?

༺♱༻  "shit  dude  her  eyes  are  rolling"  you  hear  thanos's  voice  vibrate  through  your  ears  like  ripples  in  water.

༺♱༻  you  straighten  out  your  vision  in  response,  the  room  sharpening.  you  didn't  even  realize  you  weren't  seeing  straight.

༺♱༻  “oh,  there  she  is.”  nam-gyu  says  it  almost  too  casually,  but  his  body  stiffens  when  he  catches  the  size  of  your  pupils,  “damn,  y/n"  "you  good?”

༺♱༻  you  stare  back  at  him.  your  pupils  are  so  big  they  practically  swallow  your  eyes  whole.

༺♱༻  you  finally  manage  to  croak  out  a,  "fuck"  before  closing  your  eyes  again  and  disassociating  back  into  your  altered  state.

༺♱༻  "yeah,  dude  she's  trippin'"  thanos  says  lowering  himself  on  the  cushion  beside  you.  he  starts  to  gently  pet  your  hair.  partly  to  comfort  you,  and  partly  because  he's  been  aching  to  touch  you  since  his  high  kicked  in.  or  maybe  even  before  that. ༺♱༻  nam-gyu  sighs  and  slouches  down  on  the  opposite  side.  "giving  her  two  was  a  bad  idea hyung."

༺♱༻  you  lean  your  head  against  thanos,  suddenly  so  aware  of  how  nice  his  gentle  touches  feel,  like  static  running  under  your  scalp.

༺♱༻  you  simultaneously  lift  your  legs  and  drape  them  across  nam-gyus  lap.  his  expression's  blank,  but  he  feels  sickeningly  tender, something he'd probably blame on the drugs later.

༺♱༻  he  unties  your  sneakers  before  shaking  them  off  and  gently  setting  them  on  the  floor.  he  rests  his  hand  back  on  your  calf.

༺♱༻  you're  practically  purring  into  thanos's  shoulder,  soft  streams  of  drool  escape  the  corner  of  your  mouth  and  drip  down  thanos's  shirt.

༺♱༻  you  were  moving  in  and  out  of  the  present  moment,  waves  of  hot  and  cold  rushed  in  and  out  from  under  your  skin.  you  couldn't  tell  if  you  were  covered  in  sweat  or  goosebumps.

༺♱༻  thanos  shakes  his  shoulder.  you  look  up,  facing  him  and  his  dimpled  grin.  "you  with  me,  flower?"

༺♱༻  his  deep  voice  was  like  a  soothing  bassline,  you  tried  to  respond,  "it's..s.s..too  much."

༺♱༻  thanos  gently  rubs  his  thumb  up  and  down  your  shoulder,  "i  know  flower."  "prolly'  shouldn't  of  given  you  two,  your  eyes  look  crazy."

༺♱༻  "i  look  crazy?"

༺♱༻  thanos  stops  his  strokes  on  your  shoulder,  pausing  for  a  second  before  he  moves  his  hand  to  your  chin,  thumb  now  stroking  your  jaw.  "nah.."  his  voice  is  lower,  "i  think  you  look  perfect." ༺♱༻  you  reach  for  thanos's  other  hand,  and  he  helps  move  it  toward  you.  you  stare  down  at  his  colorful  painted  nails,  with  the  help  of  the  visuals  from  the  drugs  they  really  did  look  like  shining  infinity  stones.

༺♱༻  you  lightly  smile  to  yourself  at  the  revelation,  running  your  thumb  down  the  black  line  tattooed  on  thanos's  pointer  finger,  slowly  grazing your thumb  up  his  arm.  he  shuttered  at  your  touch,  how  delicately  you  were  moving.

༺♱༻  you  noticed  thanos's  legs  shift,  and  so  did  yours  as  nam-gyu  quietly  stood  up  and  walked  to  the  kitchen.  you  listened  as  he  rummaged  through  cabinets,  every  movement  you  heard  seemed  unusually  loud. ༺♱༻  "here,  y/n."  you  lift  your  eyes  up  from  thanos's  arm  and  see  nam-gyu  holding  a  glass  of  water.

༺♱༻  you  reach  for  the  glass  but  your  grip  is  too  weak,  your  fingers  barely  hold  on  before  it  slips.  you  splashed  a  bit  on  your  lap  before  nam-gyu  quickly  snatched  the  glass  back.

༺♱༻  "shit  you're  making  a  mess"  "here"  he  uses  one  hand  to  cup  the  side  of  your  face,  his  cold  rings  sending  goosebumps  up  your  neck.  he  raises  the  cup  to  your  lips,  and  you  down  the  water  like  it's been years  since you've  had a drop of liquid.

༺♱༻  nam-gyu's  lips  curl  into  a  soft,  amused  smile.  he's  never  seen  you  so  desperate,  so  disconnected  from  control.

༺♱༻  "hang  on"  nam-gyu  mutters  before  disappearing  back  into  the  kitchen.

༺♱༻  thanos's  hand  still  rests  in  your  hair,  except  he's  no  longer  petting  it,  just  holding.

༺♱༻  "you  scared  me  for  a  second,  senõrita."

༺♱༻  "didn't  mean  to.."  you  murmur.

༺♱༻  "i  know"  thanos  glances  down  at  you,  brushing  a  strand  of  hair  behind  your  ear.  "you  trust  me  a  lot,  huh,  flower?"

༺♱༻  you  glance  back  up  at  him,  nodding.

༺♱༻  he  grabs  the  back  of  your  head  and  gently  pushes  it  into  his  chest,  holding  you  there.

༺♱༻  nam-gyu  finally  returns,  holding  a  pack  of  crayola  markers  and  thanos's  beat-up  leather  notebook  he  uses  to  write  his  raps.

༺♱༻  you  raise  your  head  to  see  what  nam-gyu  brought  back  and  gasp  in  excitement  as  soon  as  you  see  the  markers.

༺♱༻  nam-gyu  hands  you  the  crayola  box,  and  before  he  can  find  a  blank  page  in  the  notebook  for  you,  you  grab  his  arm,  taking him by surprise.

༺♱༻  you  pop  off  the  cap  to  the  red  marker  and  begin  to  lightly  color  in  the  horse-shoe  tattoo  on  his  forearm.  he  rests  his  hand  on  your  thigh  and  watches  as  you  color.

༺♱༻  "you're  warm,  gyu"  you bite your lip in concentration, "i  like  touching  you."

༺♱༻  he  swallows,  not  taking  his  eyes  off  his  arm,  "yeah?"

༺♱༻  "yeah."  "i  didn't  know you were this  gentle." you were almost teasing him.

༺♱༻  nam-gyu  pauses,  the  fingers  resting  on  your  thigh  twitch  a  bit,  "i  can  be."

༺♱༻  by  the  time  nam-gyus  tattoos  are  stained  in  color  and  the  markers  are  rolling  off  the  couch  your  body  finally  starts  to  level  out.

༺♱༻  you're  still  not  fully  there,  but  you  feel  safe,  and  warm.

༺♱༻  thanos  shifts  behind  you,  curling  one  arm  around  your  waist.  nam-gyu  helps  lift  your  legs  back  over  his  lap.

༺♱༻  your  head  rests  against  thanos’s  chest,  rising  and  falling  with  each  slow  breath he takes.  his  heartbeat  soothes  you,  along  with  nam-gyu’s  fingers  grazing  absentminded  shapes  into  your  shin,  his cold rings  clinking  against  your  skin  with  each  pass.

༺♱༻  nothing  feels  scary.  not  the  noise,  not  the  high,  not  even  your  own  thoughts.  thanos and nam-gyu  got  you.

sorry if it was too short guys im lowkey so scared to post this bye

[sinelious]

SLUT!

chapter eight: dying to see how this one ends

series masterlist

Following the fight, Peter saw the back of a squad car for the first time. He was taken straight to the local police station while few officers stayed behind to get stories from witnesses in the gym.

At the station, Peter was put in a holding cell and given an ice pack for his busted knuckles. After half an hour of sitting alone, the door to the cell opened and Brad Davis was pushed inside. He had two tissues stuffed up his nose and a black eye forming on his right eye. The boys made eye contact but felt too defeated to fear the other.

“What are you doing here?” Peter asked when Brad plopped beside him on the bench.

“What do you think? The police showed up and one of the soccer girls showed them the video of me saying I slipped something in Y/n’s drink. I can’t believe it. Did you know that’s a felony?”

“Uh, yeah.” Peter said flatly. “You’re really not supposed to do that.”

“How was I supposed to know? I’ve never done it before.” Brad mumbled. “And I wouldn’t again.”

“Would you really never do it again?” Peter asked skeptically. Brad was quiet for a minute and stared off at the wall. Peter silently handed over his ice pack and Brad accepted it with a sarcastic smile. He put it on his black eye and sighed.

“I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m so angry all the time. Or why I let it ruin my friendship with Y/n. Have you ever wanted a girl so badly that you start to hate her?”

“No.” Peter said without hesitation.

“Oh.” Brad said and turned away from Peter.

Another 30 minutes went by and Peter was starting to spiral. He paced back and forth in the cell while chewing his nails.

“What’s taking them so long?” He whined.

“They’ll get you when they’re done booking you. Don’t freak out. It’s annoying.” Brad mumbled.

“Of course I’m freaking out. If I get convicted, I’m going to jail.”

“Relax. You’ll be fine. Assault is a misdemeanor. And I’m sure your scrawny ass is a first offender so you’ll get a fine at best.” Brad rolled his eyes.

“Woah. How’d you know that?” Peter stopped pacing and looking at Brad in surprise.

“I’ve been arrested for misdemeanors before. My dad just bails me out.”

“Which I’m sure he’ll do this time.” Peter rolled his eyes and sat back down.

“No. I called him when they brought me in but my mom answered.” Brad said as he looked at the ground.

“What did she say?” Peter wondered when he saw how distant Brad sounded. Brad turned his face away from Peter and rubbed the back of his neck.

“She said her best friend in college killed herself after a boy told everyone she gave him an STD. She said she couldn’t handle the bullying.” Brad said quietly. Peter stared at him for a minute and debated making him feel worse. There was a lesson to be learned here and Peter needed to know Brad understood the gravity of his actions.

“You could’ve done the same to Y/n, you know.” Peter said in a soft voice. He wasn’t being accusatory, just honest.

“She never would’ve done that.” Brad scoffed but Peter could tell he didn’t believe himself.

“How do you know?” Peter asked. “You didn’t know her. And you didn’t let anyone know her either. You told everyone who she was and they believed you. You erased her. She very well could have hurt herself to take her name back.”

“I didn’t think it was that bad for her. It was just a joke.” Brad said after a long beat of silence.

“To you. To you, “slut” was just a word. To her, it was her entire identity. All because of you.” Peter told him, feeling angry again. He wasn’t worried about protecting Brads feelings anymore. Now, he wanted him to take some accountability. Brad was quiet for a minute as he thought about the way he treated you the past few years.

“The first time I called her a slut, I didn’t realize how easy it would be to do it a second time.” Brad admitted.

“Me either.” Peter realized and pictured your face the time he called you a slut. He blinked back tears as he replayed the night he lost you. Brad noticed Peter was tearing up and felt himself get emotional. He cleared his throat and tried to choke it down but he couldn’t stop the tears that threatened his eyes.

“I didn’t think I’d end up like this. I didn’t think I’d be this guy.” Brad said quietly.

“You don’t have to be this guy forever. You can change.” Peter told him.

“How?” Brad shrugged helplessly. “She’s never gonna forgive me.”

“She might not. But you can still apologize. And then be better to the next girl.”

“What if I can’t be better? What if this is all I am?”

“I don’t think is all you are. Y/n told me you used to be a good friend.”

“She said that?” Brad asked in surprise.

“Yeah. So I know you can be better. You just have to try.” Peter told him. While Brad thought about the conversation, Peter heard footsteps approaching the cell. He looked up and saw May walking up with an officer.

“Hey, jailbird.” May said while a tight, very sarcastic smile.

“May?” Peter got up and walked over to her.

“Come on. They said I can take you home. Isn’t that nice? I get to take my nephew home from jail.” She said sarcastically as a the officer unlocked the cell. Peter got out and immediately hugged May.

“May, I’m so sorry. I can explain everything.”

“You don’t have to. She already told me what happened.” May said and pointed through a window into the station lobby. Peter could see you sitting in one of the waiting room chairs and blinked in surprise.

“She’s here?” He asked May in disbelief.

“Yeah. She’s the one that called me. The cops told me she got here right after you did. That’s your girlfriend right?” May asked. Peter felt his heart sink when he realized he had yet to tell May that you had broken up.

“What did she tell you?” Peter asked to change the topic.

“She said you stood up for her when the boys were calling her a slut. But why do I feel like that’s now the whole story?” May asked skeptically. Peter looked her in the eyes and sighed knowing he was about to disappoint her.

“Because it’s not the whole story. I called her a slut too.” Peter admitted.

“My nephew called a woman a slut? Is that how I raised you?” May asked and folded her arms.

“No. It’s not.”

“Then why did you do that? I thought she was your girlfriend?”

“Because I was angry. And I wanted to hurt her the way she hurt me.”

“Hm. I see. And did you feel better after you called her that?” May asked him.

“No.” Peter sighed. “I felt worse.”

“I thought so. Go apologize. Now.” May turned him around and pushed him in your direction. Peter wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans before going out into the waiting room. When you saw him coming towards you, you stood up and nervously folded your arms.

“Hey.” He smiled weakly.

“Hi, Peter.” You nodded curtly.

“What are you doing here?” He asked you.

“I had to talk to the police to give my statement about Brads party.“ You explained and left out the party about wanting to make sure he was okay.

“My aunt said you told her what happened. Thank you for that. I don’t know how I would’ve explained to her what happened.”

“You’re welcome. And I should be thanking you too. You beat the shit out of Brad for me. I would’ve done it myself but I’m a little more of a kicker.” You halfheartedly joked, making Peter relax a little.

“You don’t have to thank me. I should’ve done it the first time I heard him call you a slut.” Peter replied. You shrugged in agreement as Peter thought back to that night at the party.

“And you should’ve beat me up when I called you one.” He added as he stared at the floor.

“Yeah. Maybe I should’ve.” You laughed softly. An awkward silence settled between you and neither of you knew what to say. Luckily, it didn’t last long as May came out into the waiting room and stood beside Peter.

“Ready to go home?” She asked him.

“I guess I don’t have any other choice since I am definitely not allowed back on campus.” Peter sighed.

“Actually, they were going to expel you but since I saw Brad throw the first punch, they lowered it to just a suspicion.“ You told him. Peter looked at you curiously and you smiled timidly.

“But Brad didn’t-“ Peter began.

“A lot of people saw him start the fight.” You shrugged. “The school understood that you were just acting in self defense. So don’t worry. Your scholarship is okay.”

“You covered for me?” Peter whispered in disbelief.

“Yeah, well. You covered me first.” You shrugged and avoided eye contact. Peter broke into a smile and you finally looked into his eyes to smile as well. The moment was interrupted by Brad shouting from his holding cell.

“Y/n!” He called to you. You gave Peter a confused look before motioning for him to follow you to where Brad was.

“What do you want?” You asked him.

“I wanted to tell you that I’m so sorry. About all of it.” Brad told you. You looked at Peter skeptically before looking back at Brad.

“You’re sorry?” You doubted.

“I am. I never meant for it to go this far. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me but I just need you to know how sorry I am.” Brad apologized. You smiled at the unexpected apology and nodded your head.

“I appreciate the apology, Brad. That’s not something I ever thought I’d hear from you.” You told him. Peter smiled as he watched the interaction and hoped what he had said to Brad is what inspired him to try to be better.

“Now that we’re cool, do you think you could tell them I didn’t actually slip something in your drink?” Brad asked. “I’ll get kicked out of school if they convict me and my parents already said they’re not bailing me out.”

Your smile dropped when you realized the apology was just a way to gain your trust so he could ask for a favor. He didn’t actually care and he definitely hadn’t changed. Peter shut his eyes in disappointment and hung his head in shame. He thought his conversation with Brad would’ve had some effect on him but it clearly didn’t.

“Oh. You want me to tell the police that you didn’t do something that we both know you actually did do?”

“Yes. Please?” Brad pleaded as he rested his cheek against one of the bars.

“Oh. I get it. Kinda like how you told people that I did things we both know I didn’t do?” You asked and tilted your head to the side. Peter folded his lips to hold back his laughter when he realized what you were doing. Unfortunately for Brad, he hadn’t caught on yet.

“Yeah. Like that.” Brad nodded eagerly. You laughed warmly and nudged Peter, prompting him to laugh as well. Brad was a little confused but laughed as well and assumed you were going to take his side. Your laughter came to an abrupt halt as you faced Brad.

“No.” You stated.

“What? But you have to. I could go to jail.” Brad said and shook the bars angrily.

“And I hope you do.” You said simply.

“What? Come on. Don’t do this to me. Peter already got his revenge.”

“That’s right. He did. But I didn’t.” You reminded him. “And personally, I think there are enough pathetic, predatory losers in New York. Serving some time might knock those worrisome traits of yours loose.”

“You need to really think about this. If I go to jail, I could lose everything.” Brad whispered harshly.

“I lost everything.” You shrugged. “My friends, my dignity, my name. Now it’s your turn.”

“Don’t do this. I’ll get kicked out of school. And it’s impossible to get a job when you have a conviction. Especially for something like this. You have to help me. This will ruin my reputation.”

“At least your reputation will be accurate. Mine never was.” You replied as you looked him right in the eyes. Brads face crumbled and he found himself at a loss for words.

“Goodbye, Brad.” You smiled tightly and walked away. Peter followed after you and joined up with May back in the waiting room.

“Would you like me to drive you back to campus?” May offered as you all walked out of the station together.

“Thank you. But I think I’m gonna wander around the city for a bit. Campus is a little…hostile right now. I think I want to avoid all the attention for a little bit.”

“Well you are welcome to join us for dinner if you’d like.” She smiled kindly.

“I don’t think she wants to do that, May.” Peter mumbled. You made eye contact with him and exchanged polite smiles.

“Thank you again, but I think it’s for the best if I don’t. I would like to talk, though.” You said to Peter.

“Yeah. Of course.” Peter nodded. May got into the car to give the two of you some privacy. You and Peter stood facing each other but didn’t make eye contact. Peter didn’t know what to say, so he got straight to the point.

“Look, I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I called you a slut. And that I didn’t believe you at the party. There is no excuse for what I said and did. I was angry so I called you exactly what I knew would hurt you. I guess that I’m not as good of a guy as either of us thought. You deserve a gentleman. And I’m sorry I couldn’t be that for you.”

“It’s not okay that you called me that. But I forgive you.” You told him.

“You do?” Peter smiled in surprise.

“I do. If you hadn’t gotten Brad and his friends to admit what they had done, I never would’ve gotten my name back. I had people I’ve never even seen before apologizing to me. So if you can risk your scholarship to get my reputation back, I can forgive you.”

“I’d do anything for you.” He told you as he stared into your eyes. You could see how guilty he felt when you looked into his eyes but you couldn’t get him using that word out of his head.

“Where do we go from here?” He asked after a beat of silence. You put a smile on your face and patted Peters shoulders.

“From here, you’re gonna go eat dinner with your aunt. I’m gonna go get some food with my friends, since I actually have them now. And we’re gonna see each other on Thursday in class.”

“Oh. Right. Okay. I’ll see you in class then.” Peter smiled tightly and hoped it didn’t let his disappointment show. He started walking to his car when he heard your voice again.

“Hey Peter?” You called and he turned around.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for getting your knuckles bloody for me.” You smiled at him.

“Anytime.” He smiled back. He got into the passenger seat of Mays car and waited until he couldn’t see you in the side view mirror before breaking down. May rubbed his back and said nothing as Peter cried in his hands.

“I love her. And I ruined it. I fucked it all up.” He cried.

“You don’t know that.” May said kindly. “You might still get a chance to make things right.”

“I don’t think so. She just wants to be friends.“

“I’m sorry, honey.”

“It’s okay. She could’ve written me out of her life entirely. At least we get to be friends now.” Peter said as he wiped his face. May frowned and cupped his chin.

“Let’s go home, honey.” May said. “It’ll be better in the morning.

In the morning, Peter woke up to an email confirming his suspension. He was allowed to return to campus a week later and when he did, he had everyone’s eyes on him. He kept his head down and made his way to the chemistry class he had with you. You exchanged friendly smiles with each other but that was it. Your relationship stayed in a sorta friends but sorta strangers area until the end of the semester. With one week until finals, you finally talked again.

“Hey.” You said as you caught up to him after class. Peter looked around the hallway for who you might be talking to and found no one.

“Me?” He asked.

“Yeah, you. I wanted to show you something.” You smiled coyly and handed him the test you had just gotten back in class. Peter saw a big “96” written on the top in red ink, your highest score yet.

“Woah, 96? That’s really awesome. Great job. I knew you could do it.” Peter smiled proudly and handed it back to you.

“Thank you. I never thought I’d actually pass this class. Turns out I just needed a tutor.” You said with a small shrug. Peter smiled fondly at you and nodded his head. He didn’t know why you were suddenly talking to him, but he didn’t mind it.

“You were always smart.” He insisted. “You just needed someone to explain it in a new way. I’m proud of you. That should go up on the tiny fridge in your dorm.”

“If I had a magnet or even knew where to get one, I would.” You joked. Peter laughed before a comfortable silence settled between you. You looked at each other for a moment before you took a deep breath and looked down at the test.

“So, uh, we have our final coming up soon so I was wondering if you were free to study together sometime? Maybe in the library?” You asked him.

“Oh, sure. I can definitely help you.” He nodded enthusiastically.

“Great, thanks. And maybe we can get some food after.” You suggested.

“Yeah. Totally.” He agreed.

“Like a date.” You added. Peters eyes lit up as he processed what you had said.

“You want to go on a date? With me?”

“I’ve been thinking.” You began. “You were the first person at this school who took the time to get to know me. And in that time, I got to know you too. I know you’re not a mean person. I know you aren’t like the guys who used to make fun of me. And I know I’ve said plenty of things in moments of anger that I wished I could take back. So I have a proposition for you.”

“Which is?” Peter wondered.

“If you ever call me that word again, we’re done for good. No second chances. But since I believe you’re sorry and wouldn’t do it again, I would like to give us another shot. What do you think?”

“I would also like that very much please.” Peter said immediately. You laughed at his quick answer and held out your hand. Peter took it and you walked down the hallway together. He walked you to your next class, just like old times, and stopped outside the door. You were about to say goodbye when he pulled you into a hug. You melted into his arms and hugged him back, closing all the distance that had grown between you.

“Thank you for giving me a second chance.” He said for just you to hear.

“I had too. I missed you too much for that to have been our end.”

“I missed you too.” He said as he pulled out of the hug but kept his arms around you. You looked into his eyes for a minute and smiled softly.

“For the record, I loved you too.” You told him. Peter gasped a little before breaking into a cool and collected smile.

“For the record, I was all in from the moment you borrowed my pen. Not that it’s a competition or anything.” He shrugged, making you laugh a little.

“You know, I still have that pen. It’s really good, too. Is that your thing? You give helpless girls pens and hope they’ll fall in love with you?” You teased him.

“That’s exactly what I do. You’re just the first it’s ever worked on.” He humored you.

“Oh yeah? And just how many girls have you given pens too?a rough estimate would be nice. I’d like to know who my competition is.”

“Oh, jeez. That’s hard to say. It’s gotta be hundreds of girls. Maybe even thousands. I’ve given a pen to more girls than you could ever imagine.“

“Wow. Thats a lot of girls to give pens too. I didn’t realize you were such a busy boy. Are you some kind of slut or something?” You asked with a slight gasp to poke fun at the reputation that used to weigh you down.

“I think I might be actually, yeah.” He sighed and shrugged his shoulder.

“I see.” You chuckled. “That must be why we get along so well.

“Wait, why?” Peter wondered and no longer followed the joke.

“Because.” You playfully rolled your eyes. “Takes one to know one.”

THE END

Tag List 💋

@breadglasses @hollandweather @cashtons-wife @scenesofobx @trumanbluee

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@bellajg21 @madlyinlovewmattmurd0ck @secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer @ferrjulie @kitykatnumber

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@bubblegumholland @starsval @changingdonnie

[sinelious]

Protection Charm

Ian Mckinkey/Fem!Reader word count: 4.6k master list

Summary: You and Ian had been dating since freshman year. It was your senior year and the both of you had just turned 18 a few days prior as you both shared the same birthday. As graduation approaches you two attend the amusement park and Ian convinces you to get on Devil's Flight rollercoaster.

Warnings: character death, light smut, fem and male oral receiving, blood, light gore, they’re both stoners

The sounds of laughter and shouting filled the air as you and Ian walked around the field, enjoying each other's company as you laughed together, It was rare you both did anything other than go to school and work. The two of you did everything together, basically attached by the hip.

"I'm just saying if you get on the rollercoaster maybe—" He said, putting his arm around your shoulder and pulling you in close enough that you could feel his breath on your ear, "Maybee we can leave and go smoke."

You smiled turning your head to face him, "Hmm, I like that idea just as much as I love the idea of not getting on that death trap." You said, pecking his lips

"Come on babe, just this one ride, for me." He pouted.

"I'd rather ride you," You said, trying to throw him off but it wasn't working. "if I look at those tracks I'll throw up."

He laughed at you before moving behind you and placing his hands over your eyes. "Then let me be your eyes you little freak." He said making you laugh. "Get moving" He said, pushing his hips into your back making you walk with him leading you.

"Say cheese!" You could hear a girls voice say and Ian moving over slightly with his hands still over your eyes already knowing the pose you two wanted to do and then a small flash through Ian's hands met your eyes as you quickly smiled . "When I print these I'll give you two a copy for your wedding." You heard her say, now recognizing her voice as Wendy.

Wendy showing Ian the photo who smiled at it, "You don't wanna see it?" Wendy asked you.

"No can do," Ian said for you. "She can't see a thing until we are on that ride." He said, nodding his head towards the rollercoaster.

You felt a shift of the wind on you and your smile faded.

You two sat on line for about twenty minutes, his hands still covering your eyes. The more you moved the more you started to breathe heavier. You heard Ian talking to somebody, "Will you relax, between the two of you being pussies you're bumming me out." Ian said.

"Hey," You tried to say but he talked over you,

"The odds of you dying on a rollercoaster are like one in two hundred and fifty million." He added, you soon recognized the voice of Kevin who told him to shut up.

"We're probably that one." You almost gagged earning annoyed groans from the group in front of you. "Oh I'm gonna be sick." You said.

"Yea yea, keep it moving pip squeak." He said, walking you closer to the ride.

You two finally made it to the actual ride, Ian's hands still covering your eyes waiting for the gate to open, "You gotta use your eyes for one second and then you just keep em closed if you're that scared." He said to you softly, he moved his hands.

You opened your eyes and looked down, seeing the ride made you almost pass out but you stomached it for him, it's three minutes, what's the worst that can happen? Getting on the ride Ian waited for you to be seated and strapped you down, making sure it clicked into place before he took his seat. 

Your leg starting to bounce rapidly up and down which only made it feel like the ride was shaking. Ian placing his hand on your thigh to stop the shaking and then grabbing your hand. "Relax." He whispered to you, looking at the other people getting on were side eyeing you.

The ride shifting and making sounds which only scared you more, "Ian," You said swallowing hard, "I can't do this." You said, holding back tears,

A few seats behind you was Wendy who was also freaking out before you could protest further the ride was announced to start but Wendy started to scream.

"Don't push the button!" She started to shout. She was almost hysterical. "Let me out!" She shouted.

"Ian," You said, your voice shaky as you started to yelp a little too loud,

"Relax" Ian said, through his teeth as other people started to get annoyed with Wendy.

"Get me the fuck off! It's gonna crash the fucking ride if gonna crash!" She shouted, the back row including your seats had let up.

"Oh my god Ian, get me the fuck off." You said, frantically as you stood up, grabbing him by his shirt and shoving him off with you.

"Hey—hey babe chill." He exclaimed as he started to move so you would stop pushing him.

You felt light headed and like everything was static, going out through the back with Ian trying to catch your breath. You leaned over trying not to throw up. Ian rushing over to hold your hair back, "I hate you so much." You said starting to cry but he just laughed at you.

"Come on babe," He said, helping you stand up and pulling you into a hug. "Nothing even happened, you're alright. Let's go home, smoke some weed and go lay down." He said, kissing the top of your head as one hand entangled with your hair.

You heard the backdoor swing open and security had Wendy in his arms shoving her. "Hey! Let her go!" You said, leaving Ian's side and trying to grab security off Wendy until Kevin was shoved out as well. Ian rushed to grab you to get you off the guard.

"Wen chill." Kevin said to her trying to get her to calm down.

"Babe! Get off him!" Ian exclaimed to you.

The shouting and movement all came to a halt when you heard the sound of metal collapsing, all of you turning around to see half the ride flying off the tracks along with everybody who was on it who didn't get off.

"Jason!" Wendy shouted falling to her knees.

Kevin unsure of what to do with his mouth wide open, Ian pulling you in close to him and covering your eyes, keeping his grip tight on you and placing his mouth on the top of your head looking away himself.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

The weekend had ended and it was two days after your classmates had passed, you and Ian sat on the couch in his basement where you two were living. You were cuddled under his arm as you both watched a movie.

"I'm sorry." Ian finally said. You weren't mad at him, you weren't upset.

How were you guys supposed to know that would have happened, Ian would never put you in harm's way especially a death situation.

"For what?" You asked, keeping your eyes on the tv.

"For making you get on that ride. I should've listened to you, I won't drag you to do anything you don’t want to ever again." He said, placing his hand under your chin to make you look at him, planting a kiss on your lips.

You gave him a weak smile, "It's okay, we're still alive and have each other and that's all that matters." You said, pecking his lips before moving to get up. "I'm gonna go pack us a bowl, you gonna smoke it with me?" You asked.

Turning around Ian laid his hand across your ass making it sting, the loud slapping noise echoed. "That one hurt!" You laughed as you stumbled away.

Going into your room to grab your stuff you noticed the candles in the room were swaying back and forth a little too much before going out. It made you uneasy. You ignored it and began to grab what you needed before heading back out to the living room.

As you turned around you knocked into your bookshelf, bruising your hip a little and cursing to yourself. You made your way back out to Ian and started to do what you needed while he watched the tv.

In your room your bookshelf still rattled a bit after you slammed the door behind you, the candle on top falling over and wax spilling onto the outlet behind it, making the wires crackle. You took out your lighter and tried to ignite it but it wouldn't work.

"Fuck man, I can’t have anything." You said annoyed, placing the bowl down on the coffee table in front of you. Ian looking at you and letting out a huff of laughter, watching you walk back to your room.

You placed your hand on the knob you winced stepping back as it burned you.

"Everything okay babe?" He asked, looking at you concerned.

You could smell a fire, soon you heard something collapse inside the room. Ian stood up coming over to you, he saw a glimpse of the door knob turn when he smelled the fire. He lunged at you, pushing you out of the way as the door opened, causing the sudden heat to collide into the next room as the fire exploded past the two of you on the ground.

Your heart racing as he helped you up, your ears hurt from the sound as he held you close and lead you outside. "You saved my life." You said, eyes wide open as he turned to look back at his house engulfed in flames.

The firefighters arrived and put the fire out, your entire apartment was charred in ruins. Great. As you walked around the rubble the only thing that survived was a photo of you and Ian that Wendy had taken from that night.

Looking at the photo Ian had covered your eyes, the shading making you look orange and yellow but Ian looked fine other than you pointing your fingers at Ian like it was a gun.

"Just leave it." Ian said, his voice almost monotoned. "We can have her make us another one." He sighed. You could hear it in his voice he was stressed, you turned to him and saw him with a hand on his hip and the other on his forehead, "Fuck" He mumbled looking at the wreckage.

"Welp," He said, taking in a sharp breath, "Looks like we'll be staying in some gross run down motel until this is fucking fixed." He cursed, kicking the ply wood on the ground.

"Hey, I know it sucks but insurance covers it and your parents won't be back for another couple of months so we'll be okay." You said, moving to him and pulling him into a hug.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

The next day you two had shown up for the last week of school, not seeing Wendy once since the incident. As you walked to your locker to start emptying it out you were approached by two girls.

"Hey" Ashley said to you, "Heyy" Ashlyn cooed.

You thinned your lips into a fake smile, "Heyy" You said awkwardly.

Ashley kept her smile wide, "I heard about your house and we're like totally sorry that happened to you."

"Yeaa" The other cooed again, "We wanna know if you maybe wanna go tanning with us Friday?" Ashlyn asked, "We know you have that whole, Casper vibe going on—" She said, waving her hand in a circle at your appearance.

You raised your eyebrows at them.

Ashley was quick to try to recover, "I mean, Casper was totally adorable we don’t mean it in a bad way but listen—" She said, handing you a piece of paper. "Here is my cell if you ever wanna hangout."

You took the paper and just smiled at her, hoping they would both go away. Looking past you they saw Ian approaching, "A man loves a tan busty woman." Ashley said quickly to you.

"Yea you got a bangin bod, trust us men love a tan baddie." Ashlyn said, "Catch you later!" They both shouted as they walked away from you.

As the two practically ran away you heard Ian behind you, "What did they want?" He asked, watching them skip away happily.

You turned and looked at him confused, "They wanted me to go tanning and then told me I was as white as Casper the ghost and then said I had a 'bangin bod—'" You put in air quotations, "And then said you would love a tan busty woman."

Ian laughed and pulled at your hips close to him with your arms on his chest, "They were right about the bangin bod." He said, placing his hand on your ass.

You laughed and rolled your eyes, "Alright, enough." You said trying to escape his grasp.

"I would love to see you tan" He joked, fanning your lips. "Maybe you could dye your hair blonde and paint your nails pink while you're at it." He said, kissing your lips, not letting you move as he deepened the kiss. He pulled back and smiled at you. "I'm joking, don't ever do that."

"Okay."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

After school you two went straight to work, you both worked together at a hardware store. It was super lame but it was good money and at least you were together. The work day went by super slow. It was finally 9pm and you both had gotten off.

Getting into his van you lit a blunt almost immediatly. "Woah slow down little lady, save some for me." He said, taking it from your hands and holding it in his mouth while he started the van.

The motel was small but it worked for now, the two of you laid in bed but you couldn't shut your mind off. "What's wrong?" Ian asked you.

"I don't know," You sighed.

Ian moved to sit up, playing with your hair. "Yes you do."

You rolled your eyes, feeling how nice his hands felt in your hair. "I think I'm just stressed baby, nothing to worry about." You said, moving up to kiss him.

The kiss turning into a small make out before you felt Ian smile against your lips. He was quick to move his mouth to your cheek and down to your neck before he moved completely on top of you, kissing down your chest until he reached you breasts.

He pulled your tank top down, watching your breasts move slightly. "So beautiful." He said latching his mouth onto your nipple while his hand played with the other.

Small moans escaping your lips, his other hand trailing down your side until he reached your shorts. He got on his knees and sat up straight pulling your shorts down. "I know what will help," He said, looking down at your body.

You didn’t say much as you watched him lay on his stomach, his arms pulling at your thighs and moving you down to get more comfortable before placing his head in between your legs. You felt his tongue move to your heat and you started to squirm around, moaning with pleasure.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Friday had rolled around and it was the last day of school, you and Ian sat outside under the seating area while it rained.

"There she issss, Casper the bangin ghost" Ashley cooed as the two girls ran over and sat with you and Ian, making you two shoot a quick look at each other.

Within a few minutes others pulled in, Lewis, Wendy's sister and her two friends whom you didn't know. "Hey, Julie—" You called over to her making her look at you. "How's Wendy?" You asked, making everybody else go silent.

It was as if on que Wendy strolled past with Kevin behind her, "Just leave me alone," You could hear her say to Kevin.

Wendy was soaked in the rain, you went to say something to her but Ashley and Ashlyn were quicker. They got up and ran over to her. "Heyy, wanna come tanning with us later?" You could hear them say to her.

You and Ian laughing to each other as the girls were desperate to find a third. You stopped listening in as you and Ian started to talk, "How lame is it that my last name is the same as my high school." Ian said looking down at his yearbook.

"It's not that lame and besides I'm gonna have the same last name soon, you calling me lame?" You asked him, you looked up at him where he sat on the table and you on the bench.

Later that day you two were cooking dinner as you held the pans handle flipping the vegetables on it a quick flash of fire hit your face, not hurting you much but sinching your air. The smell of burnt hair roamed through the small motel room.

"Careful now babe, if you wanted to feel the heat so bad you should've gone tanning with dumb and dumber." He said behind you, one hand on your hip as his other turned the heat down on the stove.

"I would've gone to hang out with them if they literally invited me out to do anything else." You laughed.

You heard the phone ring and passed the pan to Ian, "I got it" You said, kissing him. "Hello?" you answered. Listening to Wendy on the other line the phone fell out of your hand as you had tears falling from your eyes. Everything felt as if it was in slow motions, Ian rushing to you asking what was wrong but you couldn't hear his voice.

You both sat at the dinner table with untouched food. The silence was eating at you but there was nothing to say. It sucks but at the end of the day you barely even knew them. The only reason they even talked to you was because they thought you had some trauma bond.

"Wanna smoke and go to bed?" Ian asked you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

You attended Ashley and Ashlyn's funeral with Ian, it was tense to say the least. Ian was never good at expressing his feelings and of course now he wanted to express it. "In equal death!?" He exclaimed, oh god. "Osama is still kicking why isn't he dead!? These girls did nothing to deserve this and you wanna go on about bullshit equal death?"

Kevin and Lewis trying to get him to shut up while you stood there with your head down with tears welling in your eyes. You followed Ian to his van and got in, he slammed his door shut and started to drive as soon as you put your seatbelt on.

The car ride was silent until Ian slammed both his fists against the steering wheel at a red light. "Fuck!" He shouted as he slammed the wheel again.

"Ian!"

"No! It's not fair!" He shouted at you, turning to you he realized he had just yelled at you. He took a deep breath in and out, "I'm sorry." He said, seeing your scared expression.

A knock at your window making you scream in fear. You turned to see Kevin. "What the fuck!?" You said rolling down your window, Ian looking at the light that was still red.

"We need to talk." He said, he reached his hand in and unlocked the door, opening it and making you slide to the middle seat as he got in.

"Oh yea, just get in my car, no biggie." Ian said sarcastically.

Hitting the gas as soon as the light turned green, not waiting for Kevin to fully be in which made him latch onto you and you pulled him in, the door slamming behind him.

"Wendy and I think something is wrong." Kevin said.

"Oh yea, then why isn't she here with you?" Ian asked.

"She's going to talk to Lewis." He said. "We think death is out to get us, we were supposed to die on those tracks." Kevin said getting right to the point.

You could hear the screams in your head from that night, the screams of your classmates dying. Ian hit the brakes as hard as he could making you and Kevin fly forward but Ian put his arm across your chest to stop you.

"Get the fuck out" Ian said, sternly, you could tell he was trying not to freak on him.

"Guys please—"

"Get the fuck out!" Ian shouted at him, making you and Kevin look at him like he was nuts.

You never saw Ian this mad ever and you had known him since you two were in elementary school. Kevin just looked at you, almost begging you to say something but you looked down at your lap.

"Can you at least drop me off at the gym? I won't talk, I promise." Kevin said.

Ian started to drive again and the car ride was painfully silent. You pulled up to the gym and saw Wendy standing outside, looking up at the gyms sign almost afraid to go in.

"Thanks." Kevin said, getting out of the car. Ian flipping him off as the door closed.

"Are you alright?" You asked Ian, moving back to your seat.

"I'm great babe, fucking great."

The two of you finally got back to the motel and you decided to take a shower. Ian sitting on the counter in the bathroom while he read a book and you washed up. You could hear him sigh before his movements, his belt coming off followed by the rest of his clothes, moving the curtain back and getting in the shower behind you, rubbing your shoulders and kissing your neck.

"I'm sorry baby, I just don’t want to think about losing you." He said gently. "it’s been freaking me out."

You turned around to face him, water droplets on his eyelashes as he blinked slowly, his hair falling with the water. You kissed him, wet lips meshing with yours.

"It’s okay, I just don’t think I've ever seen you this worried." You said to him.

He pulled you in close, skin to skin as the warm water fell on the two of you. You felt his length on your stomach harden. "Sorry, death is making me a little horny." He joked making you laugh.

You kissed him one more time before you slithered down getting on your knees. "W—what are you— fuck." He moaned.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

It was late, maybe a couple days after the funeral and you two were closing up the store. "Well maybe if he didn't make us close up alone like some kind of fucking slaves we could be relaxing at home." Ian said over your walkie talkie.

"We're almost out, don’t you worry handsome." You replied.

You set some pots out in their rightful spots, the wind around you shifting and you felt a bitter cold breeze. You could hear the screams again, it was almost like you had PTSD.

The sound of pounding on the gate fence made you scream, "What the fuck is wrong with you!? You gave me a heart attack!" You shouted.

"It's Kevin and Wendy!" Kevin shouted.

"Yea I can see that, what do you want?" You asked the two.

After them explaining their theory you felt a little uneasy, "Babe, come meet me in lights, I think you should hear this." You said over your walkie.

As you walked with Kevin and Wendy you couldn’t truly wrap your head around what they were saying. "So I'm gonna overdose on nail polish remover and Ian is gonna be embarrassed to death?" You asked.

"It's really not funny" Kevin said to you.

"I'm not trying to be funny you guys are freaking me out," You said, your voice lowering as you watched the lights all flicker.

You could see Ian pop is head out from where the control panel is, "That's crazy, that's crazy" He laughed.

Ian being forklift certified always scared you, he was sometimes careless up there but you had no choice but to trust him. He lowered himself and walked with the three of you as you pushed your shopping cart around.

"With the logic you're saying here right, say the last person to die kills themselves—"

"Ian, knock it off." You said to him.

"They would save five other people's lives so— who was the last to die? You Wendy? You gonna sacrifice yourself to save us or what?" Ian taunted.

It freaked you out but Ian didn’t seem to believe any of this, convinced it was all a coincidence. The wind inside shifting again and you looked up from where you stood, seeing all the wood piles up top. They began arguing but you ears went static and you started to have a panic attack.

"You made my girl upset, just leave!" Ian exclaimed going over to console you but Wendy started screaming.

"There! It's up there!" She shouted, Kevin running to push Ian out of the way. The boards falling as you started to panic.

Wendy, Kevin and Ian trapped underneath making you take a step back. You slipped on the dirt on the floor falling hard on your ass and your back hitting the piles of mulch. You felt a sharp pain in the back of your head which turned into immense pain. You were unsure of what was happening until you tasted blood in your mouth, the metallic taste dripping down your mouth as nails shot into your head.

You turned as much as you could to look at Ian. "Please, I don’t wanna die." You cried before blacking out. "Ian?"

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

You didn't have any family yet neither did Ian. You were his family. He stood outside, it had been dark and gloomy since you passed. He stood in his regular attire at your funeral that only he seemed to attend. It was bullshit, unfair. You were always so nice to everybody, sure you weren't anyone's friend but you would think they would have the decency to show up.

Ian had bloodshot eyes and dried tears on his face while he stood over your closed casket. He couldn't bare to look at the damage. He knew after this he planned to have your body cremated and he was going to put you in a vile and wear it as a necklace so you would always be with him.

He heard faint footsteps behind him but didn’t turn around, Kevin showing up in a suit. "Did I miss it?" He asked Ian.

"This is it." He said monotoned. "You know, she talked to everybody and I mean everybody. She didn't make any long term friendships but she tried and nobody—" He choked, "Nobody came." He said now crying.

Kevin walked next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, I truly am. Wendy wanted to come but she—"

"No, I don’t care, she needs to stay far the fuck away from me." Ian cried. "She liked you, she defended you when I yelled at you to get the fuck out of my car so because of that I can't tell you to leave but I can tell you to stay the fuck away from me."

After the funeral as he drove home he thought of what Wendy and Kevin said, their theory and he decided what more did he have to lose?

He closed his eyes and hit the gas pedal, letting go of the wheel in heavy traffic yet not hitting a single car as they honked at him. His heart racing but after a minute he opened his eyes, regaining control of the wheel. He laughed at the excitement, between not sleeping or eating and crying all week he was going delirious. Over the next day he did everything to try to get himself killed. The gun was jammed, the rope broke, the pills he took somehow didn’t even kill him.

That's when he realized it truly skipped him and he was invincible, but he thought to himself— why does Wendy get to live?

[sinelious]

want you to stay - peter parker

summary: peter is absolutely appalled when he sees you beginning to leave the party when his frat brother yells "if you're not a brother or fucking a brother, get out!" wc: 2.1k+ a/n: new au :))

It was getting late.

Not in the sense that you were tired, but you’d had your fun with your friends, all of whom were ready to leave, and the one person you were here to see kept on disappearing from your sight. You didn’t want to follow Peter around like a clingy situationship, so you focused on making the most of the party with the friends you had come with. But the boy dipped in and out of the house, switching between wrecking havoc with his friends and finding you inside.

Peter had stolen you away from your friends for a dance, pressing you up against him and moving his hips with yours. You had felt his smile against the skin of your neck, pressing the occasional kiss as you sang along to lyrics of the deafening music playing. You had spun in Peter’s hold, slinging your arms over his shoulders. Peter had leaned his head down, his nose brushing against yours, lips hovering over yours. Your breath had hitched then, and Peter had smiled widely, chuckling at your reaction, as though you’d never kissed before.

“Give me a kiss.” He had whispered, and you didn’t know how you heard him over all the noise in the house. Perhaps you had just read his lips and hoped he had said what you wanted to hear. But you pushed yourself up on your toes anyway and kissed him anyway. Peter’s hands came up to cup your cheeks, and just as you pulled tilted your head to deepen the passionate kiss, he had jumped away from you.

Blinking quickly, you took in the sight of one of Peter’s frat brothers, tightly clutching Peter’s shoulders. You hadn’t heard what he had said, but Peter had ducked his face down shyly, a hand trailing down to your waist as his friend continued speaking loudly to him. Peter tugged you closer to him, telling you “I’ll be back!” But he never returned.

Now, you were huddled with your friends in a corner, discussing the plans to return to one of your dorms and debrief the night. Luckily though, you didn’t have to discuss the situation any further, because suddenly, the music cut out and someone clambered on to a coffee table.

“Everybody listen up! If you’re not a brother, or fucking a brother, GET OUT!”

Your friends scoffed, and you could nearly hear the roll of their eyes. “Let’s go.” You told them, nodding towards the door. You took the hand offered to you, following the crowd out of the house. But as you approached the door, a hand curled around the wrist of your free arm, softly pulling to attract your attention.

Peter stood in the midst of the crowd, a confused look on his face. You felt your friends’s eyes on the two of you, exchanging glances behind your back. “Hey, where are you going?” Peter’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, the confusion clear on his face. Clearing your throat, you felt your face heat up at his question. Shrugging, you said “I don’t, we were just-“

“Didn’t you hear what he said?”

“I did, yeah. I just, I didn’t…”

Peter shifted his weight from one foot to the other, removing his hand from around your wrist. He swallowed thickly, throat bobbing. “You don’t want to stay?” Your eyes widened as you realised what this looked like; you escaping his party with your friends and averting all his questions.

“No, I-I mean, do you want me to stay?” You hated yourself for how small you sounded — how you were clearly seeking his approval. Peter smiled, nodding assuredly. “Yeah, I do. I want you to stay.” It was impossible for you not to smile at his words, or to feel insecure anymore. Chewing on your bottle lip, you turned over to face your friends, all of whom were expectantly looking at you.

“Okay, have fun.” One of them said, leading the others outside and ditching you with your… Peter. “Come here.” He mumbled, extending an arm towards you. You pushed past the bodies around you until you were close enough for Peter to wrap a muscular arm around your shoulders. He led you towards the emptying living room, keeping his gaze on you. Peter paused in the hallway, looking past you and towards his frat brothers lounged on the couches.

“Do you want to come up to my room? Or stay down here a little?” Wrapping an arm around Peter’s waist, you followed his gaze, eyes widening as the men in the living room broke into another fit of loud laughter. “Can we go to your room?”

“Yeah, of course baby.” You felt your face heat up at the pet name, letting Peter guide you up the set of familiar stairs. His hands lingered on your waist until the door to his room was shut.

“Thank you for letting me stay.” You said, voice quiet as you sat down in Peter’s bed. Peter followed you, standing in front of you. He cupped your cheek, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.” You attempted to bow your head down to avoid his gaze, but Peter’s hand was slipping to your chin and pushing your head up. When your eyes met his, he smiled, and you couldn’t help the way your lips tugged upwards in response.

“Do you want to take off your makeup? Matt’s girlfriend basically lives here, so he should have some wipes or something.”

“I don’t want to be a bother.” Peter’s hand dropped from your face and he scoffed disapprovingly, instantly turning around and walking out of the room. He left the door wide open behind him, so you saw as he trotted down the stairs, his shoes padding loudly on the wooden floor. You tapped your fingers on the fabric of your skirt, knee beginning to bounce nervously. When Peter returned up the stairs, he was accompanied by someone – tall with a head of thick black hair. He wore a navy blue polo shirt, and guided Peter into the room directly facing the one you were sat in. Matt lingered in the doorway of his bedroom when Peter returned to his own room, carrying a bottle of micellar water and cotton pads.

Matt caught your eye, putting a hand up and waving animatedly. “Hi y/n.” He said, drawing your name out in a sing song voice. “Hi Matt.” Unlike the other frat brothers, you were a little familiar with Matt, who had met you the very first time you’d entered this house. It was against your free will that you had met, but retrospectively, you were thankful for the familiar face. Peter twisted his torso, frowning at his housemate, who travelled across the hallway in a few steps, leaning against the doorway of Peter’s room. “So…” He started, waggling his eyebrows as he nodded towards Peter.

“Matt, go away, she doesn’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“No, that makes me sound so rude, Peter!”

“No, it’s alright, we get it. We’ll all be here tomorrow morning anyway, if you want to meet the others. Or not the others, just Meg. She really wants to meet you.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be sure to say hi to Megan if I see her.”

“Oh, she’ll make sure you see her tomorrow.”

“Okay, Matt. That’s enough.” Matt rolled his eyes, slapping a hand on the top of the doorway before walking down the stairs. Peter closed the door gently, moving to sit next to you on the bed. “Is this okay?” He asked, presenting you the items in his hands. “It’s more than okay, Pete. Thank you.”

Peter watched silently as you rubbed the cotton pad across your face, makeup smearing on your face. He leaned forward, dragging the trash can from under his bedside table towards you. You dropped the used cotton pads in the bin, running a hand across your face when it was finally clean. It felt odd for some reason – being so domestic with Peter when you were usually in and out of his room after a hook up, or a date that had never been labeled as one. Standing up slowly, you wobbled on your feet, forgetting about the heels you wore. Peter’s hand shot out, steadying your waist. “I’m going to wash my face, if that’s okay.”

Peter nodded, standing up. He kept his eye on you as you walked into the hallway, entering the bathroom. He walked over to his closet to find you a hoodie and sweatpants. When you returned, face still mildly damp and eyes tired, Peter was quick to wrap you in his arms again. He smiled as you melted against him, cheek pressed against his chest. The touch was nice and warm, and had you leaning into his body. “You tired?”

“M’yeah.” Peter chuckled, chest bubbling against your face. He pulled away slightly, but your arms kept him close to you. “Come on, just to get changed then we can cuddle.”

Cuddle. You barely ever cuddled, unless you were watching a movie, which led to inevitable sex. Peter steered you out of your small top and bra, guiding your face into the hole of his hoodie, followed by your arms into the sleeves. You wiggled out of your skirt, shaking your head when Peter offered you his sweatpants. He chuckled, folding them again. “Do you want some water?”

“Yes please. God, I can already feel the headache coming.”

“You sobered up?”

“Yeah. I didn’t get drunk, I think it’s just the noise. How do you feel?”

“Yeah, good. I didn’t drink much either, so I feel sharp.”

You grinned, accepting the metal bottle of water Peter offered you. It had a capital 'P' on the front, and wasn’t completely full, but you took two big gulps from it anyway, then offered it to Peter. “Sharp? Senses acute, Mr. Parker?”

“Yeah, exactly like that.” His smile disappeared behind the rim of the water bottle, and he took a long sip, sighing loudly in satisfaction when he swallowed. You climbed into Peter’s bed, settling under the covers. Peter undressed from his jeans and t-shirt, leaving them in a pile on the floor before reaching for the sweatpants he had just folded. He followed you into the bed, hands finding the curve of your waist and pulling you flush against his bare chest.

“Thank you for staying.” He whispered. You smiled softly, pushing yourself up on the bed so you could press your lips against his. Peter’s eyes fluttered shut as he relaxed into the kiss, pressing himself harder against you. He stroked his fingers against your cheek as his legs tangled with your bare ones under the sheets.

“I’m happy I did.” You finally said, settling back down on the pillow. Peter sighed, breaking eye contact for a brief moment and opening his mouth, as though to say something, then closing it again. “What’s wrong?”

Peter’s gaze snapped back up, and his mouth dipped open again, though no words came out. He looked around, gathering his thoughts before finally saying “I’ve really been enjoying our time together.” You froze, eyes hardening as you pushed yourself to sit up, the cautious tone Peter was using sending you into a panic. Peter followed your movements, twiddling with his thumbs as he continued, “But I don’t- I think we could, I could enjoy it more if I really understood the nature of our relationship.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, scanning Peter’s posture. His shoulders were slightly hunched, nerves clouding his eyes as he gathered his thoughts. “Pete? I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“Would you like to be my girlfriend? Officially?”

“Oh!” Peter’s chest deflated at your quiet gasp, and he nodded, as though you’d already rejected him. You reached out to place a hand on his thigh, attracting his gaze back up to your face. “Peter, I’d love to.”

“You would?” Peter grinned widely, a relieved sigh leaving him as you nodded, shuffling closer to him on the bed. Peter licked his lips, cupping your cheeks and leaning forward to kiss you quickly. You giggled, launching yourself onto Peter to hug him, arms settling around his waist. Peter laughed, kissing the top of your head and he laid back down on the bed. The room was silent for a long moment, the two of you holding each other lovingly.

“Do you want me to turn off the lights?” He asked quietly, but you shook your head softly. “I’m not really tired anymore.”

“Oh... Do you want to kiss for a little bit?

“Yeah.”

taglist: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling, @dearlizzies, @bxuzi, @rory-cakes, @dlljdhsh, @aouoo, @fandomhoe101

[sinelious]

Imagine Me And You

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you and Peter have feelings for each other but can’t act on them since he’s your friends ex-boyfriend

Masterlist

“Is it weird to date your ex’s friend?” Peter typed into his laptop and waited for the results to come up. He was so engrossed in reading the responses that he didn’t hear you and Ned come up to the table he was sitting at.

“What are you looking at?” You asked as you plopped down beside him. Peter quickly slammed his laptop shut and hopped you hadn’t seen his screen.

“Oh, uh. I was just taking an “Am I Gay?” Quiz.” He lied with a causal shrug.

“Aw. Did you pass?” You asked with a teasing smile.

“Aced it.” Peter said with a click on his tongue.

“I knew you would. That’s my boy.” You laughed and patted his back.

“I love when you call me your boy.” Peter said jokingly.

“So no one cares that I’m here?” Ned asked when no one had acknowledged his presence yet.

“Do you? Then maybe I should call you that more often.“ You replied and leaned towards Peter. A blush painted Peter’s cheeks while Ned rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

“Maybe you should. But I’d like anything you called me.” Peter answered.

“Oh yeah? Even when I called you fart ass boy the entire bus ride home from DC?” You asked him.

“Okay. I didn’t love that.” He admitted, making you both laugh.

“You did it to yourself, mister.” You shrugged. “Should’ve waiting until you were alone to rip ass.”

“I thought it would be silent.”

“Aw. We all think things.” You said and teasingly patted his back again. You stared into each other’s eyes for a moment because no one wanted to be the first to look away.

“Can you guys stop?” Ned complained. “I feel like I’m watching straight American Heartstopper. And it sucks.”

You and Peter exchanged a look before scooting away from each other. There was always an awkwardness that followed when the unspoken feelings between you and Peter were spoken about. It’s not that neither of you wanted it enough to make the move. It was the boundary that neither of you knew if it was okay to cross.

Luckily, MJ came to the table and broke up the uncomfortable silence Ned had created. She sat down with a smile on her face but it slowly dropped when she sensed the tension among the three of you.

“Real weird vibe here guys.” MJ said out of the corner of her mouth.

“Sorry. That was my fault.” Ned said with a raise of his hand.

“Usually is.” MJ shrugged. “Anyway, a friend of mine is having an art show this Friday and they need more bodies in the room. Would you guys want to come?”

“Sure. I’ll go.” You told her.

“We’ll come. As long as there is some kind of greasy food or ice cream happening after.” Ned answered for him and Peter.

“Cool. I’ll tell her the five of us are coming.” MJ said as she pulled out her phone to text her friend.

“Five?” Peter asked.

“Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention that I invited Liz. Sorry, Peter.” MJ replied, making everyone look at Peter. The only one Peter cared to look back at was you. His face flushed an embarrassed pink as he shrugged his shoulders.

“I have no problem with it.” He said. “We’re cool now. And we’re all friends. It’s fine that she’s invited.”

“Yeah, but we haven’t hung out as a fivesome since you guys broke up.” Ned pointed out. “This would be the first.”

“Don’t say fivesome.” MJ said warningly.

“The breakup was almost a year ago.” Peter shrugged. “I’m sure it will be fine if she comes.”

“Okay. Five of us it is then. No one better bail on me this time. I don’t want a repeat of that time everyone ditched and I had to see Lego Batman by myself with Ned.”

“I haven’t cried that hard in a movie theater before I saw it and I haven’t cried that hard since.” Ned shook his head as he blew out a breath.

You were hardly listening as you stared off into the distance, the reminder of the reason you and Peter couldn’t be together causing you to check out of the conversation. Peter looked over at you and tried to catch your eye but failed. It twisted your stomach in knots every time you thought about what having feelings for Peter would do to your friendship with Liz. As much as you liked him, you could never betray her. So instead, you pushed it down and didn’t dare to meet his eye.

On Friday night, you and Peter stood outside the art studio, both on the phone. You were anxiously waiting for someone else to show up so you didn’t have to be alone with him any longer.

“You’re not coming?” You asked in disbelief.

“I know. I hate to miss the show.” MJ groaned. “But I’m having an allergic reaction.”

“You are? From what?”

“Not sure.” MJ said quietly, making you roll your eyes to the sky.

“You got that damn crab Rangoon from that place on the corner again, didn’t you?” You asked angrily.

“I cannot resist it. I am only human.”

“A human with a shellfish allergy.” You reminded her.

“Those are optional.” She insisted.

“They’re not. I’m coming to your dorm to take care of you.” You sighed and went to hang up.

“Don’t worry about me. Liz is here.” MJ informed you, making your freeze.

“Hey. I’m taking care of her tonight.” Liz called loud enough for you to hear. You looked over your shoulder at Peter before returning to the phone call.

“Do you need any help? Last time MJ ate those things, she puked so much I almost called the Coast Guard out of fear.”

“I think I’ll be okay. Besides, taking care of her is good practice for the NCLEX.” Liz replied.

“The what?”

“Nursing exam.” She chuckled. “Don’t worry. I got her. And don’t worry about me either, okay? I want you guys to have fun tonight.”

The kindness in Liz’s voice when she said the last part made you want to ask her exactly what she meant by that. You didn’t have time to ask before you heard MJ retching and quickly hung up the phone. You thought about what Liz had said before walking back to Peter.

“MJ bailed.” You told him.

“What?” Peter laughed in surprise. “This is her friend’s show. Did she say why?”

“You know why.” You sighed.

“That damn crab Rangoon.” He huffed and stamped his foot.

“She can’t stay away.” You shrugged. “What about Ned? Is he on his way?”

“He’s not coming either.”

“What? Why not?”

“He said he remembered that he didn’t want to and is playing The Sims instead.”

“Of course he is.” You grumbled and shoved your hands in your pockets. Peter recognized that you were cold and unzipped his jacket. He went to place it around your shoulders but then hesitated. You’d been distant during the week and he wasn’t sure his jacket was something you’d want.

“Is Liz almost here?” He asked as he slipped his arms back through his coat.

“No. She’s taking care of MJ. We’re really lucky to have a friend who’s becoming a nurse. One of us is always getting sick from something stupid.” You replied, making Peter smile. He and Liz really were cool now, but he much preferred having an evening alone with you.

“Oh. Cool. Just us tonight, then.” Peter said as a blush painted his cheeks. You looked up at him sadly and shook your head.

“I think we should go home, Peter.”

“What? Why?”

“Because.” You whined. “We can’t hang out just you and me.”

“We can’t?” He asked as his heart started to sink.

“No.” You insisted. “If it’s just the two of us, then it’s like a date.”

“Oh. And you wouldn’t want to be on a date with me.” He nodded his head and looked at the ground so you wouldn’t see how much that stung him.

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” You trailed off, making him look up at you with curiosity. You looked into his eyes and smiled sadly.

“We can’t. You know that.” You said quietly.

Peter knew that you were thinking about Liz. It’s not that he didn’t care if he hurt Liz by going out with you, it’s that he felt like he knew her well enough to know she’d be okay with it.

“So then let’s not make this a date.” Peter said to break the silence. “Because I don’t see any reason why the two of us can’t hang out alone. Let’s ditch this art show and go do something no two people on a date would ever do.”

“Like what? Take the LIRR to Long Island?” You asked him.

“Absolutely not.” Peter said in disgust. “I was thinking we could get some non-date food and then do a non-date activity.”

“I wouldn’t say no to a pizza right now.” You said coyly, starting to warm up to his idea. Peter smiled happily before holding out his arm. You hesitated for a moment and then took it, allowing him to lead you to the closest pizza shop.

It was tiny, dimly lit, and hardly the scene of a date, making it the perfect spot. You and Peter ordered and when he reached for his wallet, you put your hand over his.

“I got this, baby girl. Your money isn’t good here.” You told him before paying the man behind the register.

“Smart. Because if this was a date, I’d pay.” He said and tapped the side of his head. You laughed at him before getting your pizza. The two of you sat down across the table from one another in the back of the restaurant. The only other patron was shirtless and eating a calzone with two hands, so you had your privacy.

“So. What would two people not on a date talk about?” Peter asked between bites of his pizza.

“Hm. I don’t know.” You thought. “Shit from a butt?”

“Hmm. That’s a really good option.” He nodded his head. “But let’s keep thinking.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him and took a bite of your food. You had initially panicked over it just being the two of you tonight but that quickly fell away when you remembered how easy it was to be around Peter. As long as it stayed a non-date, your guilt would be at bay.

“We haven’t hung out just us in a long time.” Peter said, as if reading your mind.

“Yeah. It’s been over a year, I think.” You realized. “We went to that arcade that also sold purses and knives.”

“And hot dogs.” He added. “Remember I tried one and got a terrible nose bleed?”

“I remember that.” You chuckled. “I was so scared you were gonna bleed out in front of me. I think I gave you a tampon to put up your nose.”

“You did. And it was surprisingly very comfortable up there.”

“That was a fun night. We were out so late too. I had an early morning class the next day but I didn’t care. I didn’t want the night to end.” You said without thinking.

“Neither did I. That’s kinda how I’m feeling now. I didn’t realize how much I missed spending time with you one on one.”

“Aw, Pete.” You smiled and put your hand on top of his. “I missed it too.”

“You guys are a cute couple. Reminds me of me and my boyfriend.” The other man in the restaurant smiled at the two of you as he got up to leave. His comment brought the two of you back to reality and you quickly moved your hand. You looked to the side as Peter pretended to be busy with his napkin. Your reminiscing had landed you in date territory and you needed to pivot out of it quickly.

“The pizza is good.” Peter said to break the awkward silence that had settled.

“Yeah. I can feel a pimple forming on my chin and I haven’t even finished it yet but it’s pretty good.” You agreed without meeting his eyes. You finished your slices with small talk between bites before leaving the shop.

“Want to walk around a little? I need some movement to digest that thing.” Peter offered as he patted his stomach.

“Sure. Just, leave enough room for Jesus, okay?” You laughed awkwardly as the two of you started to walk down the sidewalk.

“Sure.” Peter chuckled and kept an appropriate amount of space between the two of you as you walked. The other sidewalk users that you had to maneuver around eventually caused you to get closer. Your hand bumped Peter’s a few times too many before you folded your arms and rubbed them up and down.

“Are you cold?” He asked you.

“A little. This damn Shein jacket is probably made out of candy wrappers and recycled Build-A-Bear skin. The wind goes right through it.” You grumbled and pulled the fake leather jacket tighter around your body.

“What an odd combination the seamstress chose.” He chuckled. “But it looks good on you.”

“Thanks.” You turned your head to give him a shy smile. Peter only let you walk a few more paces before placing his jacket over your shoulders. You gave him a grateful smile before slipping your arms through the sleeves. You knew Peter tended to run hot so you didn’t have to worry about him getting cold.

“I was going to give it to you back at the art show but I wasn’t sure if you’d want it.” He confessed to you.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You played dumb.

“I don’t know. You’ve been a little distant this week. And a little jumpy tonight. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You replied in a tone that convinced no one. Peter stopped walking so you did too. He took a step towards you and put his hand on your shoulder.

“You know you could tell me anything, right?” He said in a tone so gentle your knees almost collapsed. You looked down at his hand and then into his eyes. You wanted to tell him that you liked him and that it was killing you to not be able to be with him the way you wanted, but the words didn’t come out.

“I’m okay.” You said instead. “Let’s just keep walking. It keeps me warm to stay moving.”

Peters wasn’t fully satisfied but he knew you got cagey when you were pushed so he let it go. You ended up walking to the pier of the Long Island Sound and stopped to looked at the water.

“Wow. It’s actually kinda pretty at night. You can’t see how brown it is.” You commented as you stared at the rippling waves. Peter was too busy looking at you to see what you were talking about.

“Yeah. Very pretty.” He said in a soft voice as he watched the setting sun illuminate your side profile. You both stayed like that for a moment in comfortable silence.

“The sun is going down. You want to watch?” Peter offered. You were about to say yes when a heavy feeling hit your chest.

“Watching the sunset is a date activity.” You said quietly.

“I know. That’s why you’re gonna watch the sunset and I’m gonna go over there and watch those pigeons fighting over an Elf bar.” Peter pointed to a bench a few feet behind you to let you know where he’d be.

“Okay.” You laughed. “Don’t have too much fun.”

“No promises.” He called back as he walked to where the pigeons were. You watched him over your shoulder as he sat down on the bench and felt your heart ache. He gave you a little wave before pointing at the sky, making you turn around. You longed to go over and sit next to him and watch the sunset together, but you couldn’t do that. If he had dated anyone else but your friend, you could. But everything was complicated so you stayed where you were.

“How was it?” Peter asked as he joined you on the pier once the sun had fully dipped under the horizon.

“It was beautiful. You would’ve liked it.” You told him. “It was one of those nights when the sun looks really red and the sky is orange. I know you like those.”

“I do. But don’t worry, I secretly watched from behind you.” He admitted. “But it doesn’t count as watching it together because we were socially distancing.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want you to miss it.” You said as you stared into his eyes. He stared back and raised his hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your cheek, but quickly put it down. You gave him a tight smile before tossing something into the water.

“What was that?” He wondered.

“My pizza crust. I was throwing it to the whales.” You replied. Peter looked back and forth between you and the water for a few times to see if you were serious.

“There are no whales in this water.” He said finally.

“Then what have I been throwing bread crumbs at for the past ten minutes?”

“I have no idea since whales don’t eat breadcrumbs in the first place.”

“Well something was popping out of the water to eat the crumbs.” You pointed out.

“In the Long Island Sound? It was probably the Babadook or something. Let’s go before it comes out and gets us.” He said and put his hand on the small of your back to lead you away. Your face went hot at the contact and you had to give him a look. He rolled his eyes slightly and dropped his hand.

“I know, I know.” Peter said sarcastically. “I dated your friend for three months almost a year ago so you and I cannot do anything that would suggest there was a romance between us. But I put my hand on Neds back too, by the way.”

“I know. That’s why you passed that “Am I Gay?” quiz this week.” You teased him. Peter laughed lightly but you could tell he was upset about something.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him, making him stop in his tracks. He looked at you with his big brown eyes and you felt that old familiar ache in your heart.

“It’s not the I regret dating Liz. She’s a great girl.” He began.

“I know.” You nodded, shocked that you were actually talking about this forbidden subject out loud.

“I cannot tell you how much I regret dating a friend of yours.” He continued, making butteries erupt in your stomach.

“Oh.” You said quietly. He looked to the side but you continued to stare at his face. He looked upset and had his usually blush splashed across his face.

“Peter.” You said softly and went to put your hand on his face. He quickly snapped out of his mood and threw a smile on.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asked.

“What?” You wondered, confused by the sudden change in emotion.

“Those little squishy oatmeal cookies with the cream in the middle. You know what I’m talking about?”

“Not the answer I was expecting, but okay. Oatmeal creme pies?”

“Yes!” He exclaimed. “Those were so good. They’ve been on my mind all week.”

“Let’s stop in and get some. I’m sure they have them.” You laughed and pulled him into the nearest corner store.

“Really? You want one?” He asked excitedly as you walked through the door together.

“No, but I can’t think of anything less romantic than watching you down one of them right now.”

“Oh, baby, you’re about to watch me down three of them right now.” Peter held up three fingers as he practically skipped to the snack aisle. You laughed and followed him to help him look. He didn’t find them in that aisle so he went around the corner to check the next one.

“How much do you think this is?” He asked as he came back to the aisle you were in with an orange cat in his arms.

“Put him down.” You ordered. “That’s the manager.”

“Fine.” Peter sighed and gently let the cat go. “Now I kinda want one of these giant protein cookies.”

“No way. Those taste like straight up sand and butt.” You warned him.

“At the same time?” He wondered. “Or is it like very sand forward with a butt aftertaste?”

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” You playfully narrowed your eyes as you turned to him.

“I do actually, yes. Thank you for noticing.” He replied and took a step closer to you.

“The only thing I noticed is that eyelash that’s been sitting on your cheek all night. I want it.” You said and reached up to take it off his face. He gently caught your wrist and moved it away, bringing you closer to him in the process.

“Get away from me.” He laughed. “That’s my wish. Not yours.”

“Come here. Please, let me get it off your face. It’s been bothering me since the pizza place. I’ll do anything. I’ll buy you all the sand cookies you want.” You offered as you tried with your other hand to hold his face still. Peter had wrapped his arm around your waist now to better maneuver you away from his face as you struggled to get the eyelash.

“That is not what I want.” He said in response to your cookie offer.

“Hey guys.” A voice came from down the aisle, making you both freeze before untangling yourselves from each other.

“Liz.” You smiled in surprise and hastily fixed yourself. “What are you doing here?”

Peter gave her a small wave but said nothing. Her face was calm and if anything, delighted to see the both of you. Meanwhile, your heart was pounding in your chest and you felt guilt like never before.

“I’m just getting some Pepto for MJ. She only has the cherry kind and she said it-“

“Reminds her too much of her ex.” You finished her sentence. “I know. Is she okay?”

“She’s doing better. I think she’s learned her lesson this time. She’s not gonna eat them again.” Liz answered. You all were silent for a moment before bursting out laughing.

“That was a good one, Liz.” You said once your laughter died down.

“Thank you.” She smiled. “So, how was the art show?”

“Oh, we didn’t end up going. We got food instead.” Peter replied. Your heart started to pound again in fear of how that sounded to Liz.

“Oh yeah? Where?” She wondered.

“Just some random little pizza place. The pizza was like $2 and it tasted like the price. I bought my own, by the way. I mean, I bought his too, but only because I already had a five dollar bill out.” You quickly explained. Liz laughed at how you stumbled over yourself but didn’t make any sign of being upset with either of you.

“Wow. Thank you for all the details.” She said teasingly.

You felt about ready to explode by that point. Liz appeared calm and happy, the exact opposite of how you were feeling inside. You felt like you were betraying your friend right in front of her eyes and you didn’t understand why she wasn’t calling you out for being a bad friend yet.

“Peter, can you go get me a clear Gatorade?” You asked Peter.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Bye Liz.” He waved again before leaving the aisle.

“I don’t think they make a clear Gatorade.” Liz said once you were alone.

“They don’t. I just wanted to get rid of him.” You told her.

“Oh, smart.” She chuckled. “So, did you guys have fun tonight?”

“It was okay. It was a pretty uneventful hang out with a friend.” You said with extra emphasis on the “friend” part.

“Really? It seemed like you were having fun when I saw you guys.” She said with surprise. She didn’t sound angry which didn’t make sense to you.

“Fun? With Peter? No way. We’re only hanging out because everyone else bailed. I’d never hang out with him alone otherwise. And I never will again, just so we’re clear.” You assured her. Liz looked at you for a while before smiling softly.

“Hey, you know that red sweater you let me borrow last semester?” She asked you.

“Oh, yeah. The one with the big buttons.” You recalled.

“You know how after I wore it a few times, you told me to keep it?” She continued.

“Well, yeah. I thought it was cute but it never looked right on me. But it looked great on you. I wanted you to have it.”

Liz smiled when you said exactly what she was hoping. She put her hands on your shoulders to make you look at her.

“You can keep my sweater. It looks much better on you. And it was never mine to begin with.” She said in a soft tone. You caught on to what she was saying and looked over at the drink section where Peter was still searching for the nonexistent drink.

“Liz. I can’t.” You shook your head and looked down at the ground.

“If you don’t like him and I’m reading all the signs wrong, then l’ll drop it. But if you’re holding yourself back from being with him because of me, then both of you need to cut it out. Because it’s fine with me.”

“It is?”

“Of course it is.” She insisted. “Peter and I barely dated. And we broke up for a reason. We didn’t work as a couple and that’s okay. It doesn’t mean he’s off limits from you or any other girl. I think you should go for it.”

“But he’s your ex-boyfriend.”

“And you’re my best friend. I want you to be happy.“ She said with a friendly squeeze of your shoulders. You gave her a sad smile and then pulled her into a hug. She hugged you back tightly as Peter watched curiously from a distance.

“I appreciate you caring about my feelings. But it’s not necessary.Now, go get him.” Liz said once you pulled out of the hug. Peter came back and joined you in the aisle with a smile.

“Here you go.” Peter said as he handed you the bottle of clear Gatorade.

“What the hell?” You whispered in disbelief at his find.

“I better get back to MJ. But call me if you guys get sick from that pizza.” Liz waved goodbye and left to make her purchase.

“What were you guys talking about?” Peter asked once the two of you left the store with your items.

“My old red sweater.” You told him to put it lightly.

“The one with the big buttons? I remember it. You always looked pretty in it. How come you don’t wear it anymore?” Peter wondered. For once, you allowed yourself to enjoy the compliment from him without feeling guilty. You stopped walking and Peter followed suit and stopped with you.

“Because it was never mine to begin with.” You smiled fondly at him and slipped your hand into his. Peter smiled back at the unexpected gesture but his smile slowly faded when he realized he didn’t know what you were talking about.

“Am… am I supposed to know what that means?”

“I think you know what it means.” You said as you took a step closer to him. Peter looked to the side and in confusion and still had no idea what you were talking about.

“I’m confused. Did you steal it or some-“

You cut Peter off by grabbing his shirt to pull him into a kiss. Once Peter’s initial surprise wore off, he put his hands on your face to kiss you back. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself into him, kissing him until you ran out of breath. When you pulled away, Peter had a shy smile on his face as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“What made you change your mind about us?” He asked you in a timid voice. “And don’t say the red sweater because I still don’t understand what that meant.”

“I just realized we’re a good fit. And I didn’t want to hold myself back anymore.”

“So does this mean I can take you on a real date sometime? One where I buy your pizza and watch the sunset next to you?” Peter asked hopefully.

“It does. I’d really like that.” You answered coyly, making him smile.

“Does this also mean if you and I break up, I’m allowed to date Ned?” Peter asked jokingly.

“Don’t push it, mister.” You warned him.

“I won’t.” He held his hands up in defense. You started walking down the street again, this time hand in hand.

“Oatmeal creme pie?” Peter offered as he leaned the box of Oatmeal cookies towards you.

“Why thank you.” You said and took one. “Clear Gatorade?”

Peter accepted your offer and took a large sip of the Gatorade you’d been drinking. He winced at the flavor and looked at the bottle.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him.

“Ugh. This Gaterade is gross.” He grimaced. “Oh my God. This isn’t Gatorade. This is magnesium citrate.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s the stuff you drink before a colonoscopy to, you know, clear yourself out.” Peter said with obvious discomfort.

“What?” You exclaimed and grabbed the bottle to read it for yourself. Sure enough, the neatly empty bottle was what Peter said it was.

“If you think about it, this is kinda the perfect way to end our non-date.” Peter said to try to make you feel better. You gave him a look before pulling out your phone.

“Hey Liz.” You said into the phone. “Funny story.”

Taglist 🏷️

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@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

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@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep

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@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy @wordsarelife

@starboyshoyo

[sinelious]

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — nevermind about the shape i'm in, i'll keep you safe tonight // in-ho x reader x gi-hun

♡  ⁄  pairing: in-ho x reader, hints of gi-hun x reader ♡  ⁄  warnings & tags: fem!reader, canon-typical violence & death, obsessive behavior, lying/manipulation, age gap (reader is 20-22, in-ho & gi-hun are late 40s, early 50s) ♡  ⁄ wordcount: 7.1k ♡  ⁄ summary: gi-hun and the reader have a real conversation. bonds are formed between the players. and in-ho realizes just how much he has to lose... welcome to mingle. THIS IS PART FIVE OF A SERIES!! (➊) (➋) (➌) (➍)

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵ ﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

You find yourself in the bathroom with a group of women - Hyun-ju, Geum-ja, and Jun-hee - after Young-il goes to bed, at your urging. When you'd tried to tap out Jung-bae, the older man had gone quite willingly to bed, but Gi-hun had a stubborn set to his lips, preparing to argue with you already. And suddenly, Jun-hee had approached you both to use the bathroom, upon which a rapid series of social interactions led you to the brightly colored women's bathroom in this garish bunker.

You didn't actually have to go, content to lean against the sink as a chaperone and consider Geum-ja's words to convince the guard to let the three of you - with Hyun-ju as a last addition - to use the bathroom. You'd known she was older, and you would question why she'd joined these games had you not overheard her yelling at her son on the first day. Despite the room being filled to the brim with people on day one, you could've sworn her voice had echoed. No, it's just odd - to consider what it'd be like for your mother to make it to that age. Your mom never would have found herself here, unless you royally screwed up, like Young-sik did. She was sensible, but selfless - at least, mostly. And Geum-ja - to have survived a war, watched her son reach adulthood, and still find herself here. It would be quite the climactic - and undeserved - end for her, to die in these games.

You hear the crying coming from the stall first, and are practically running to check on Jun-hee. Geum-ja is close behind– “Is something wrong with the baby?!” You hush her - maybe a bit harsh, but you know cries of pain versus misery. What Jun-hee needs right now is to be a person first, not just a delivery system. You knock lightly, then push open the door.

“Jun-hee? Are you okay?” Your voice is gentle as you kneel in front of her, taking her hands. You can sense Hyun-ju nearby, after just now finding out that Jun-hee is pregnant.

“I'm so scared,” Jun-hee gets out through small sobs and sniffles. “I want… want to go home.

“Oh, sweetie,” you murmur, pulling her into a hug. She ends up practically half in your lap on the floor as you hold her while she cries it out, rubbing her back lightly and whispering words of comfort.

The other ladies kneel behind you - even Geum-ja, with her bad knees.

“You aren't alone, dear,” Geum-ja murmurs. “And I don't just mean that baby you're carrying.” You shoot her a pointed look, but Jun-hee gives a little laugh, so you don't say anything.

“That's right. We're all stronger together, aren't we?” Hyun-ju chimes in. “And you… well, you're even stronger than most, surviving this far in your condition. No silly children's games are enough to take you down.”

Jun-hee smiles weakly at that, pulling from your embrace. “I'm thankful I'm not in this alone. I don't know what I would've done if…”

Her words trail off, her eyes glassy. “You're a survivor, Jun-hee. I can just tell. Don't think too hard about the what-ifs, alright? You've got us. We're like a family,” you say, smiling warmly at her. It's strange - your own family, save for your father, is so far away now. But the closeness these games force on you, in a short matter of days, is a more unbreakable bond. And you have your answer to your question earlier - if it came down to it, you wouldn't choose to sacrifice Hyun-ju, or Jun-hee, or Geum-ja. You would give your own life for them. It settles something rattling around in your chest, solidifies your sense of self, and you turn your smiles to the other two ladies as you help Jun-hee to your feet. “You are my girls, alright? I won't let anything happen to you.”

Geum-ja reaches out, squeezing your arm, her eyes shiny - or maybe it's just the lights in this pop-colored bathroom. Hyun-ju looks away, but a tiny smile is still visible on her lips, and when you return to the dorms together, you feel stronger. No longer are you in flight or panic mode. You're ready to survive.

When you return to the dorms, you sit down next to Gi-hun as the rest of the ladies make their way to bed. Gi-hun barely spares you a glance, and you're prepared for him to argue that you should get some rest, but in a rare moment of wisdom he stays silent.

When one of you does finally speak, it's you. “I'm sorry for pushing you too much, before. And for blowing up on you.” Too little sleep, too much stress - you know he could have been more tactful, but you could have too.

He makes a small grunt, shaking his head. It takes a long moment for him to respond. “You're just trying to be smart. Play the game. I'm sorry… about your father.” He clears his throat, apparently eager to move on. “The problem is, just playing the games won't solve this.”

You nod faintly. “We're all in survival mode. Just trying to make it to the next moment. We all have something to lose.” Your father flashes through your mind, but so do your girls, and Young-il. Gi-hun. Hell, even Jung-bae and Dae-ho.

He looks at you, his face mostly expressionless, but there's something searching in his eyes. You get the feeling that he's a lost ship, adrift for years, scanning for a lighthouse. “You're right. They'll want to cut the player count down significantly. In my third game, it was teams playing tug-of-war. It was designed for only half to make it out.”

You bite your cheek, thinking that over. “Even if they don't do another team game, they'll still probably have a set number they want to make it out of the next game. We have to keep our groups close, take care of each other.”

Gi-hun hesitates, then says, “In my fourth game, they made us partner up. Most people chose the person they trusted most. And it turned out we were playing against each other.”

You open your mouth to instantly respond, then stop yourself. You look at him, really look at him. The weight he carries, the hollow pain lingering around him. Misery, you know we'll. Trauma, even better. And you force yourself to keep in mind, this isn't just a strategic conversation - he has lived through this. “Gi-hun, I'm sorry.” You swallow. “You lost someone you trusted.”

He blinks a few times, looking uncertain, his lips parting. Your eyes flick to them, then quickly back up to your eyes, trying to ignore the way you seemingly had no control over the action. “It's complicated,” he murmurs. “There is a reason I know so much, about those who run the games. Let's leave it at that.”

You want to pry, to grab him by the shoulders and shake him till he opens up, till he unlocks the many many doors he keeps himself trapped behind. “I mean this with no offense, Gi-hun, but how… How were you the one that won your games? You aren't cruel, and you seem so… so kind. You have such strong morals, you care so much, still, about human life… I just don't see how a man as good as you could win these games and still be that same man.”

His eyes widen, a strange clenching in his chest. Is that how you see him? Is that how this team sees him? He doesn't feel like the same man, but more so like… he's trying to honor the man he was. The old Seong Gi-hun cared so deeply, protected his team - both in these games, and in the strike at his old job. But that man was happy, even when he should have been miserable. He laughed and bounced around like a fool, and was reckless, careless. He gambled everything - his money, his mother's money, for his daughter's birthday gift… But you still see him as a kind man. And he doesn't know what to do with it. “I am not the man I used to be,” he murmurs.

“I know,” you respond, your voice and eyes softening in a way that makes him ache. You reach out, pointing one finger, and trace the lines around his mouth without touching them. “You used to be a man who smiles.”

Gi-hun rears back slightly, like you've punched him, his eyes wide, heart pounding just a little faster. He swallows, feeling almost backed into a corner, but after one steady breath, he decides… he doesn't mind it. “Yes. Yes I was.” His voice comes out thick, strained, and maybe he'd cry, or run away if there was any pity in your eyes.

There isn't. Only care, concern. Affection? He doesn't push his luck. “I bet you had a really nice smile.” Your voice is almost mournful, like you wished to be on the receiving end of it. You clear your throat, shaking your head. “Sorry. I understand if that was inappropriate. It's just, ever since I first talked to you, after the first game, I could see it. That happy man you once were. And my greatest wish for you is to get back to him, even if it's different now.”

Gi-hun stares at you openly, not sure how to respond. Jung-bae had said something similar, but this is different. You're a relative stranger. Before, he'd thought you reminded him of Sang-woo - even his name is a sharp stab in his mind - but now… Now he sees an echo of himself, or maybe Ali. That kindness. Caring about someone in the form of truly seeing them. And he feels frantic, so unused to someone looking past it all, so unfamiliar with his old self after so many years. “(Y/N)...” He didn't even make the choice to open his mouth, but your name spills out in a whisper.

“Sorry. I'm sorry. Forget I said anything. But just know, I'm rooting for your happiness too. The way you are rooting for every person here's survival.”

He can't stop looking at you, seeing you. Faintly, he nods.

The next morning, the next game. You wonder if you'll ever make it out of this place.

“[Y/N],” Young-il catches up to you in line quickly, taking your elbow with a firm hand, reminding you for all the world of last night, his fingers on your chin, his lips on yours, his tongue tracing your mouth…. You swallow, looking up at him with slightly round eyes. A slight smirk tilts his lips, that lingering intensity in his gaze. “Stick by my side today, okay?”

You watch him for a moment, a small smile rising to your lips. He really does want to help you make it out of here. He's playing the game, just like the rest of us - one moment at a time, trying to survive. “You planning on keeping me safe, big guy?” you ask, aiming for a light tone. Truthfully, being entrenched in misery and anxiety has grown weary in itself, and for your own sanity, you need to focus on levity whenever you can.

He gives you a somewhat amused glance, though that sharpness affecting his gaze remains. “Maybe I am. Who knows what the next game is? Last time, I wasn't…” He pauses, adjusts, tries to find the right words. “I would prefer to have you where I can keep you safe. As safe as I can, considering the circumstances. In the last round, it didn't feel like… enough, to just coach you. I need you safe.”

Your lips part at his verbal acknowledgement of his desire to protect you, and it takes a moment for you to nod, cement it into place. Honestly, after the pentathlon, you don't think you could bear letting him out of your sight again. You slowly - but casually - slip your hand into his, an acknowledgement of your own desire to keep him close.

You tune out idle conversation - quieter today than in days past - and focus on your breathing, on the solid weight of his hand in yours. There are no guarantees that anyone you care about will make it out alive. But you refuse to be tugged and tossed around by these games any longer.

“(Y/N)!” You hear a voice call your name, and you turn your head, though oddly, Young-il stiffens behind you.

Jung-bae rushes up to you, an easy grin on his face. It's a wonder he always seems to be smiling, but maybe that's his survival tactic.

“The game you will be playing today is Mingle.” The word is meaningless to you, your group looking at each other as the players flood into the room.

“This one's gonna be fun, right guys?!” Thanos calls out somewhere in front of you, sounding horrifically giddy. 

“Mingle, Mingle, Mingle!” comes the voice of one of his cronies. You roll your eyes.

“I will now explain the rules of the game. All players will step onto the platform in the center of the arena. Once the game begins, the platform will spin. Shortly after, a number will be called out. You must then form a room that matches this number, enter one of the surrounding rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds, or be eliminated.”

“Oh, this one? It's like the one we played on field trips when they called a number, and we formed groups by hugging.”

“Yeah… instead of hugging we go behind one of those doors.”

The team goes on to talk strategy, and you focus on that, and the solid weight of Young-il's hand in yours.

Stay calm and don't panic. Trust each other.

The platform is massive - it has to be, to hold the remaining 256 players. You all face outwards, the giant carousel horse marking the center from which it begins to spin.

“With that, let the game begin.”

There's a small jolt as everyone stumbles, the platform beginning a slow spin. At least it's not dizzyingly fast, and you're near the edge, poised to run. The music is playful, befitting the colorful circus feeling of the large room. But it sends a chill through you.

The platform stops suddenly.

“10 players.”

Your team members turn to Hyun-ju's group. “We have six!” one of your teammates shouts - with all the commotion and yelling around the room, you can't discern the voice.

“We have four!” Hyun-ju responds, her voice clear and strong. A team of five next to us gets dragged and pushed away by another team, the desperation practically a rank stench in the air. You gulp, stumbling a little as Young-il drags you along with the two teams to a room.

The bright, light green room is a bit too harsh on the eyes for it to feel like safety, but everyone breathes a sigh of relief as the door shuts behind you all. Your eyes dance over everyone, trying to make sure you all made it in. And then you land on Gi-hun, as the timer ticks down, and see him step to the door, peering out through the very intentionally placed slot. The timer hits zero. Then the screaming starts. Begging and pleading ring out from the players who didn’t make it in time, and Gi-hun watches as the gunshots start. You can’t see his expression, but you wonder if this is a form of self harm for him. A way to remember that the cost of his life is all the blood spilled. Your eyes drift to Young-il - no longer holding your hand, though with the adrenaline coursing through your system, you can’t remember when that happened.

He’s staring at Gi-hun intently, as if analyzing him. Much like you had been. You wish he wasn’t so inscrutable, that you could read his mind, what lays behind the almost fascination in his eyes.

“Hey,” the word spills from your mouth without thinking as you look back at Gi-hun. “Gi-hun. Stop torturing yourself.”

You almost think he doesn’t hear you, until he responds. “If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around, does it make a sound?”

“Pretty sure they’re making a sound,” Jung-bae murmurs gruffly, staring absently at the wall. He shakes himself out of it, clearly haunted by the lives being cut down outside, twisting to check on Jun-hee.

You step closer to Gi-hun, reaching out to touch him, but Young-il places a hand on yours, gently lowering it.

The gunshots stop, and you lean against the wall as the guards begin removing the bodies. No one can seem to think of anything to say, until Dae-ho eventually breaks the silence. “We should all try to stick together. Like, if the next number is five, you can take one of our teammates,” he says to Hyun-ju. Hyun-ju nods faintly.

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan. And if we have to split up into smaller groups, we’ll have a bigger pool. That’ll increase our odds, for sure,” she says firmly. While Hyun-ju is holding it together, Young-mi looks like a leaf on a day with heavy wind - shaking, barely hanging on. She reaches out for Hyun-ju’s hand, which she takes, looking at her with concern, and… guilt?

You glance between them. The ‘O’ on Hyun-ju’s chest, the ‘X’ on Young-mi’s. Right.

“Stronger together!” Jung-bae declares, knocking Dae-ho on the shoulder with a grin. Dae-ho is knocked back a little, but he smiles right back.

Geum-ja’s eyes are on Jun-hee, who thankfully seems to be doing okay. At least this game isn’t a lot of running - just a short sprint. Still, the stress must be taking a toll on her.

Young-il, when you turn to him, is already looking at you.

The doors unlock.

Your group steps back out into the room, and your eyes instantly flick to the digital number on the wall. It’s gone down by 35, if you remember correctly. 35 people, human lives, gone. Just like that.

There’s not much of a chance for a reprieve - as soon as everyone is back on the platform, it starts turning, the playful children’s song starting back up. Your eyes flick around the remaining players.

Thanos’ dancing is so out of place, that it comes right back around and becomes perfectly fitting. Candy colored death games, children's songs, dancing around. The blood in the room is just frosting on top.

There’s a tense silence in the group. The platform halts, the music cuts out. “4 players.”

The teams look at each other. “You four, stay together!” Young-il points to Hyun-ju’s group. Hyun-ju doesn’t hesitate, waving for them to follow her with a shout.

But that leaves six players.

Young-il’s hand encloses around yours. “Dae-ho, get Jun-hee to safety with Gi-hun and Jung-bae. We’ll find another two people,” he says quickly, and there’s no time to argue, but Gi-hun stares at you with wide eyes.

“Wait–”

“There’s no time!” Young-il shouts, tugging on your hand, and your eyes linger on Gi-hun as you’re pulled away. You come across a man stumbling to his feet pretty quickly - you could’ve sworn he was one of Thanos’ team members, but the purple-headed chaotic element is nowhere to be seen. You wave at him, gesturing for him to join you two, and he’s running with you less than a second.

Young-il beelines for the doors, eyes scanning for someone along the way. There’s a pair of two almost in your path - no good, you only need one. But Young-il has other ideas. He almost roughly grabs the closest one - the man, not the woman, the number 246 plastered on his back, dragging him along. He yelps, but doesn’t stumble, his feet working to keep up with him, even as he looks back at the woman he’d left.

Your stomach drops. This is about survival, but Young-il made a choice you’re not sure you could ever make. He practically signed that woman’s death wish.

The four of you reach a room, and 256 runs in first, practically hugging the corner. You slow - you have just a few seconds, but your eyes scan for Gi-hun’s group. You spot him after just a moment, still standing outside his room, searching the room. For you and Young-il? Before you have time to try and call out to him, to show you’re alive, Young-il yanks you into the room. The door shuts, then instantly locks.

Oh, fuck. One more second, and all four of you would have been dead.

Everyone takes a moment to catch their breaths.

Then Young-il grabs you by the shoulders, staring deep into your eyes, his typical intensity magnified by a thousand. “Do you have a death wish or something?!” he demands, gripping you tightly.

Your voice is weak as you go to defend yourself. “I was just–”

“You almost got yourself killed. Ssibal, you almost got the rest of us killed. You can’t be taking risks like that!” You open your mouth, a protest on your lips, but it dies almost immediately. You know he’s right, but that’s not why you don’t speak.

It’s because of the deep concern in his eyes, behind the intensity, the anger. So much concern, it almost looks painful.

In-ho doesn’t know why his heart is pounding in his chest. He knows, no matter what, his survival is guaranteed. He can even prevent your death, if it came down to it. But in that moment of blinding panic, he’d forgotten that, could only feel a sick twist in his stomach, a cold sweat over his skin. He could have lost you. He didn’t expect it, such a strong reaction, the stabbing pain the sharpest thing he’s felt in years and years. You. You have wormed your way under his skin, an itch he can’t seem to scratch, and he gets the sinking feeling it’s more than that.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I was looking for Gi-hun– but you’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”

Gi-hun. The way you are drawn to him is another twist of the knife, but he can’t fault you for it. The man is a shining pillar of morality. It takes a special person to return to this hell with honorable intentions, and he’s already prevented more deaths than In-ho had anticipated in the first game. He has fought, over and over again, to preserve human life. He refuses to see that almost everyone here isn’t worth his compassion, that the scum of the earth will never change their ways. Every test that In-ho has thrown his way has been met with stubborn belief. Admirable. He’s strong-willed, kind. Emotionally broken. And In-ho can’t seem to figure out if you, the sparkling you, is more like himself… or Gi-hun.

Or maybe you're something else entirely.

He stares at you now, his hands gripping your shoulders, and he forces them to loosen their grip, a conscious effort. Your lips are parted, your eyes shiny in the light, the pink walls making you look softer. The slope of your nose. The flutter of your lashes.

“Young-il,” you murmur, reaching up to squeeze one of his hands. “I'm okay.”

The urge to hear his real name from your mouth knocks the wind out of him. In-ho. Call me In-ho. He swallows it down, giving a small nod. Now is not the time. He squeezes your shoulders, then looks to the other men in the room.

246 looks guilty, like it was his fault that woman got left behind. You feel a little sick on his behalf, but you're also so overwhelmingly grateful to be alive. 256, on the other hand, looks despondent, distraught.

“How are you two holding up?” you ask, ignoring the sounds outside of the bubble of this room to the best of your ability.

“Fine. Thank you, for taking me with you,” 256 responds with a bow of his head.

“I thought you were in Thanos’ team?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light. He looks ill.

“So did I,” he murmurs, rubbing the center of his chest. “I'm Gyeong-su,” he adds, putting on a smile, but it comes out slightly wrong.

“And you?” you ask, eyes flicking 246.

“Gyeong-seok,” he says with a gentle smile, seemingly deciding to keep his guilt to himself.

“That's funny,” Young-il murmurs with an amused smile, and everyone turns their heads to look at him. “Gyeong-su and Gyeong-seok? Players 256 and 246?” He chuckles, eyes flicking to you. “Seems you were right. The gamemakers do have a sense of humor.”

You huff slightly, shaking your head, and the other two men look vaguely confused but smile all the same. But still, it's a twisting reminder.

When the doors finally unlock, Young-il finds your hand again, and you leave the room again.

168 players are left. 52 are gone forever.

Bright lights shine on the blood pools, the ones that grow in number each round. Almost in a detached way, you can't help but wonder - will you slip on the blood in one of these rounds? Will that be your downfall - every dead player reaching out to drag you down with them?

Is that how Gi-hun feels?

Young-il pulls you to a group standing off to the side, and it takes a moment for your eyes to focus, for you to realize it's your team. Gi-hun's reddened eyes land on you both, flicking between you both. He visibly says in relief, and your smile wobbles, struck by the emotion in him.

“See? I told you they'd be perfectly fine! It's good to see you both made it through,” Jung-bae declares, grinning, but it's clear that he had been tense too.

“I was worried for a second. I’m glad you made it,” Gi-hun says to you, his smile horribly tender, flipping your heart in your chest. His eyes flick to Young-il. “Both of you.”

Your eyes are locked on Gi-hun, at a loss for words, but Young-il fills the silence. “People say I'm pretty friendly, so, you know, I do all right in these kind of games.” There’s a few light chuckles in response before Young-il speaks again. “Oh. How are you feeling, Jun-hee?”

That’s enough to shift your attention - in all the commotion, you’d forgotten about Jun-hee. Am I a horrible person to only worry about my own life here? “I'm all right, thank you. We're all really glad to see you.” You smile kindly at her, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

“Hold on, I just realized. If we have to form groups of six next round, then we won't need anyone else.”

“Why? Oh, 'cause the baby?” Young-il laughs in acknowledgement.

“Ah! That's a good point.”

Laughter fills the group, but you go tense at the thought. Jun-hee is clearly close to giving birth - what if it happens here, in these games? Will her baby be taken from her? Will she have to play while holding her child the entire time? Your blood runs cold. At least you know her baby would never be considered a player on their own.

You all follow the bloody footprints back to the platform, your mind churning. No more self-centered behavior. You’re not the only innocent life in these games. Thankfully, at least, this games seems to be about individual survival, rather than killing each other directly. Your mind flashes to the woman that you and Young-il forced Gyeong-seok to leave behind. While Gyeong-seok lingers near to your large group now, but Gyeong-su is nowhere to be seen.

The platform moves, the light dims. You swear, the childlike music will haunt you to the end of your days.

“3 players.”

This one is easy for your group - split in half. But Hyun-ju and Young-mi are off in a pair, and so are Geum-ja and Yong-sik, trying to find a third. Young-il pulls you by the hand, and Gi-hun joins you this time, making your heart thump with something besides anxiety and adrenaline. You’re running, but you stop short when you hear Yong-sik yell. 

“What are you doing? Let go! That's my mom! Mom!”

Your stomach drops. You let go of Young-il and shove him towards Geum-ja, who is just standing there now, alone, staring as her son is taken away, seemingly accepted her fate. “Get 149!” you practically screech, not giving either of them a second to react before you’re twisting around, sprinting in the other direction. The last thing you saw was Young-il’s face twist like he’d just tasted something sour, Gi-hun’s wide, terrified eyes. There’s no time to think. You were right, before - in a split second reaction, you proved to yourself that you would give your own life to ensure the safety of someone you cared about.

You almost run directly into player 280, a tall woman with an eyebrow piercing and a dark mullet-like hair style, and Geong-su. There’s a second where you all stare at each other, but then Gyeong-su darts toward the outer wall, and you both follow suit. It's tight, you almost don't make it, but the door slams behind you with three seconds left on the clock.

Your heart beats so loudly in your ears that you can’t hear them, can’t think. Your breaths come in shallow, until you finally steady yourself, inhaling deeper and deeper until you get control over yourself. The ‘cleanup’ outside takes less time this round, and you almost feel like a zombie when you stumble out of the room. You’re exhausted - less physically than emotionally. How long will this game continue? In your nightmares, you’re certain it will go forever.

141 players left, 27 humans gone.

Maybe they’re trying to dwindle the number down to 100. A nice, round number for the last three games. Gi-hun did say there were about 100 players left after the second game - perhaps the gamemakers are trying to get everything back on track.

Geum-ja getting embraced by Hyun-ju and Young-mi when you reach the platform - it turns out that Gyeong-seok was their knight in shining armor this round. When they pull back, you don’t hesitate - you hug Geum-ja tightly. She gives a kind laugh, squeezing you tighter than you could have imagined her frail arms capable of. Yong-sik, when he approaches, gets a dirty look in contrast, and you decide then and there that you don't trust him - though you remind yourself that he's human, and everyone makes mistakes. Maybe he isn’t strong enough to fight off  two men. Or maybe he’s just weak-willed. Either way, you would never place your life in his hands.

Everyone watches as he breaks into tears. But a cold feeling settles in your chest as Geum-ja pulls away to bring her son into his arms. Tears are a meaningless display of guilt - something your mom would do for your pity. You shake off the memories. Tears would not have saved Geum-ja.

Gi-hun twists you around, pulling you into his arms, and you humph in surprise, before hesitantly hugging him back. He’s awkward, in how he holds you, like hugging is unfamiliar to him. It likely is, by now.

“I’m not sorry,” you say, your voice softer than you expected, your eyes landing on Young-il over his shoulder. Gi-hun shakes his head against you, pulling back, then giving you an odd pat on the shoulder. His hand shakes.

“No need to be sorry. I understand,” he says quietly, glancing at the older woman as she holds her son.

Young-il doesn’t look as forgiving, but there’s also something dark and analytical in his eyes, something so familiar to you at this point. It tugs at your gut. “Do I need to put a leash on you?” he says, his voice light-hearted - nothing like that look in his eyes. You laugh, and he manages a smile, but when he takes your hand again, his grip is iron-tight.

Another turn around the merry-go-round, and you’ve forgotten how to see the beauty in your surroundings. All the bright colors and the artfully crafted carousel horses are just a backdrop to the gruesome scene before you.

“6 players.”

Your large team is easily split in two - save for one. Gyeong-su’s eyes flick around the group, and he pats 280 on the shoulder before running away to hopefully find a team of five. 

Hyun-ju, Young-mi, Jun-hee, Geum-ja, Yong-sik, Gyeong-seok.

Dae-ho, Jung-bae, 280, Young-il, and Gi-hun. And you.

The sprint is almost easy this time, Young-il keeping pace with you but also urging you faster, and with the grip he has on you, it would be impossible to fall behind. The six of you reach a room, and you and Young-il are the first to enter. You try to release his hand, but he doesn’t let you, leaning next to you on the wall as everyone catches their breath.

You look up, and Gi-hun is staring at your interlinked hands.

Perhaps he is some sort of fool. Gi-hun has almost lost you twice in this game, and yet it’s your hand in Young-il’s that makes it feel like the floor is dropping out from beneath him. Ever since Sang-woo called him an idiot, then promptly sacrificed himself so he could make it out of the games, he’d resolved to be smarter, more tactical. He knows, now, that he was just playing pretend, that he’d gone through the motions of playing chess and assumed his opponent would follow the rules.

Not that Young-il was ever his opponent. He was good for a debate, for testing his morals and making him think about his own beliefs from new angles, but he always came out more resolute at the end - and more fond, oddly, of the shorter man. But now, it feels like he’s been focusing so much on capturing all his pawns that he failed to notice he was three moves away from a checkmate. He failed to realize just how quickly you had grown on him, how much he was reminded of who he is - who he used to be, who he’s tried to forget in his pursuit of the Frontman. At the end of the day, Gi-hun is just a man. So is the Frontman. So is Young-il.

But Young-il has formed a bond with you that Gi-hun would never have allowed himself, and he feels the loss like another number on the scoreboard, another fallen player he couldn’t save. Perhaps, this time, the player is himself. Where Young-il challenged him, you sat with him, scolded him, comforted him, believed in him. And he’s a fool, now, for not realizing just how much your warmth had affected him, and how cold he feels now. And if you died here, he would be just as lost as when Sae-byeok’s throat was slit, as he was when Ga-yeoung moved away, as he was when Sang-woo told him to take care of his mother before leaving him too. Love, something broken and shriveled inside him screams. But god, does it hurt. And here he is, losing something he never considered having, because of his damn convictions, because of the lost souls that tear and claw and threaten to drag him under.

And all he can do is stare at your damned hands.

Perhaps In-ho should pat himself on the back, for recognizing how important you are to Gi-hun before Gi-hun ever could. Another loss in their little game, a battleship that In-ho claims. He can see it all in Gi-hun’s eyes - like you’re dying in front of him, but without all the guts and blood and gurgling. And, in the quiet part of In-ho’s own mind, he wins this battle without ever having to lose you himself. A lost chance at love - will that be another stone on the scales, tipping Gi-hun into making the same choices most men would? How many more losses would it take, for Gi-hun to lose that damn stubbornness?

But he knows that his own pursuit of you has nothing to do with Gi-hun. He may try and fool himself into thinking as much, but he is no fool. Your warmth, your solidity, he wanted it for himself, not to dangle over Gi-hun’s head like a trophy he can never win. Although, it would be a wasted opportunity, now that he has it, wouldn’t it?

He presses closer to you, leaning down to lean his forehead against your temple, and you sigh faintly, relaxing just enough for In-ho - and Gi-hun, with his eyes locked on you - to notice. For everything that Gi-hun stands for, this is another thing he has deprived himself of.

Your eyes slip closed, trying not to think about any of it. Young-il is a comfort at your side, even though some small part of you is crying out to not trust him. But even if…. Even though you have feelings for Gi-hun, he could never reciprocate. Not when he’s lost so much, not when he’s here to fight a different fight altogether. You don’t know what you’re fighting for, anymore. First, it was your father. Then, yourself. Now, are you fooling yourself, fighting for the people you’ve met here? It’s the only noble cause you can find, when these games are endless, stretching out before you for eternity, consuming your past. To leave at this point seems impossible. You want to claw at the walls, scream, tear everything down. You wish you’d met Young-il or Gi-hun anywhere else. But Gi-hun may never have let you in, and Young-il only looked twice at you because you challenged him.

You’re so very tired.

When the doors unlock, you manage to slip from Young-il’s grip, walking out of the room with your arms wrapped around yourself, your heart aching for pasts you can never change, and for the futures being thrown away before your eyes.

When you reach the platform again, Hyun-ju is standing there, hollow. Your eyes flick through your other teammates - friends. The people you care about. And where Young-mi should be standing, instead is Jun-hee’s ex-boyfriend, player 333.

“Wait, where’s…” you say, but you know the answer. Jun-hee meets your eyes, shaking her head slightly.

Young-mi is dead, the girl with the crying eyes, who was never made for a place like this. You don’t ask for any details, just step up to Hyun-ju and wrap your arms around her. She lets you, for a long moment, then shrugs you off.

You never even got to know Young-mi. You had tuned out of most of the conversations she was a participant of - not because you disliked her, just lost in your own head. But clearly, a bond had been formed between the two women, and your heart aches for Hyun-ju. Your eyes flick up to the board. 126 left, 15 gone. And Young-mi is one of those 15, her life boiled down to a number on a screen that’s no longer there.

You don’t reach for Young-il, or anyone. You stand on the platform as everyone climbs back on, and you wonder if part of Hyun-ju will forever be trapped in this room.

You only zone back in when you hear the men theorizing what number will be called next, faintly recognizing that the platform is moving again, the music playing. It’s all so far away.

“What number do you think we're gonna get next?”

“Two,” you say, at the same time as Young-il. But you don’t look at him - you look at Gi-hun, a knowing glance. You’d said it last night - the gamemakers have a specific number in mind to end the third game. That’s the point of this endless turning, counting down, giving people hope to survive longer - only to reveal that they knew how many people were going to make it out of this one the entire time.

“Wait, why?”

“We're at 126 people, and there are 50 rooms. Even if there's two in every room, then there's still only enough for 100 of us. If you don't find one fast, you're done for,” Young-il explains. You feel his eyes land on you, and this time, you’re the one to reach out, take his hand in yours.

“Two players.”

Gi-hun is grabbed by Dae-ho, which is the last thing you see before Young-il is running with you. Your heart is heavy - you can only save yourself this round, you and Young-il. There’s a limited number of rooms, and no time to hesitate. 

But, your feet slip out from under you.

In your mind, you picture a large pool of blood, a slip - but the ground is dry as you hit it, your ears ringing, and faintly, all you see is Young-il throwing his arm forward, his hand curled into a fist - and you feel an ache at the front of your ankle. Almost like someone tripped you.

You are dragged to your feet, your head spinning, your arm thrown around someone’s shoulders - Young-il, your nose tells you, even if you can’t quite see straight. You’re shoved forward through a door, and you catch a glimpse of him pushing someone away, but you’re not entirely certain if that’s real or not. You slide into the room, and he slips in after you, shutting the door. All you can do is lean against it with all your weight, a thudding sound coming from outside as the door tries to thump open. You open your mouth - to say what, you have no idea, but your eyes land on your partner as he wrestles a man to the ground.

Right. Two players. Someone else had already been in the room. And all you can do is watch as Young-il chokes him, a female voice counting down. Young-il’s eyes locked on yours, like a reminder of why he’s doing this, why he’s going this far.

A snap. The man slumps to the ground. The door locks. Your knees give out, and you slide down, unable to look away from Young-il. Somewhere, you recognize that there’s tears in your eyes, but for what, you don’t know. The loss of 155 lives over the course of this game? The way Gi-hun had stared at your hand holding Young-il’s? Young-il, launching himself over the line, just to keep the two of you alive? Or perhaps you’re crying in relief, for yourself, for everything you’ve just gone through. It’s lost to you.

Young-il crawls to you, slowly, and tears slip down your cheeks. There’s blood on your hands. Did you try to catch yourself when you fell before, and instead only found the sticky evidence of someone else’s end?

“Young-il–” you choke out, and he slides his hands over your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

His expression betrays nothing, just a tilt of his head, and it feels like his hands are the only thing keeping your head up. “Sorry?”

“I-I’m not worth that, the-the death on your hands,” you say, voice warbling, and he wets his lip, thinking, looking over you. Inspecting you like a broken toy.

“You are worth all of it,” he murmurs, and pulls you into a searing kiss.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵ ﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

♡  ⁄ taglist: @pursued-by-the-squid @in-hos-wife @bloooooopblopblop <33333 @nellabear @gloriousjellyfisharcade @politicstanner @xcinnamonmalfoyx @beebeechaos @delfinadolphin @bbrainr0t @ineedazeezee @watasinekoru @solarpotato @nerdytif @speedymagazinewhispers @machipyun @dilfismz @kymimi @colorwastaken @mel3484 @honeynanamin @keira80808 @yes-i-do-the-arts @psychobitchsthings (hiiiii i know it's been many months and many moons but here <3)

[sinelious]

night carnage

hwang in-ho x f!reader

synopsis: carnage happened all around as you slept peacefully.

warnings: violence, death, the 2015 games, graphic descriptions. 18+

requested

you lie in bed, the thin mattress creaking beneath you. it was never comfortable, the way you feel like your back was pressing into the metal below the mattress.

the way your heart pounds so loud, it feels like it might burst through your chest. the dormitory is quiet now, save for the soft snores and occasional mumbles from the other players.

five days ago, you were just player 067, one of 456 strangers thrown into this hellish game, fighting for survival and a fortune you could barely comprehend.

now, only seven of you remain.

to say that you're terrified would have been an understatement.

this kind of unease settles into your bones and makes every breath feel like your last.

you didn’t drink the soju at last night’s feast, unlike the others who laughed and clinked glasses, their faces flushed with false hope as they beg the guards for more soju and rice.

the guards called it a gift, a way to “fuel up” for the final game tomorrow.

you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was something else.

as if it was a trap, a way to dull your senses.

inho, player 132, didn’t drink either.

you noticed his sharp eyes scanning the room as everyone else ate, his jaw tight, as if he knew something you didn’t.

you met inho five days ago, on the first day of the games.

you were both exhausted, battered from the red light green light game that really cemented your fear.

he grabbed your arm when you stumbled, saving your life as you nearly fell in front of him.

inho's grip was firm but not cruel, and his eyes held something you hadn’t seen in days: humanity.

from that moment, an unspoken bond formed between you.

unfortunately, you seen the humanity leave his eyes over the last few days. there was no more since you met him almost a week ago.

you didn't realize that he was the only player losing it.

you were too.

since forever, you didn’t trust easily. how could you now, in a place like this?

however, inho was different. he didn’t talk much, but when he did, it was with purpose. he shared his food when your hands shook too much to hold the spoon. he stood watch when you slept, his silhouette a quiet reassurance in the dim light.

you didn’t know his story, and he didn’t ask for yours.

it was enough to know you were both still here, together.

the dormitory is a vast, cold space, the walls were once lined with bunk beds stacked like cages. now, its only seven beds spread out.

the golden piggy bank looms high above, its glowing hue casting eerie shadows across the room.

as you notice most of the players asleep, you sit up, your back against the wall, trying to fight the exhaustion pulling at your eyelids.

sleep is a luxury you can’t afford, not with the final game looming.

the guards promised no violence, but you didn't believe that.

your nerves are frayed, each creak of the beds or rustle of sheets sends a shockwave through you.

you glance at inho’s bunk, a few beds down.

he’s awake too, his eyes glinting in the faint light.

he nods slightly at you, a silent acknowledgment.

you nod back, your throat too tight to speak.

the feast last night was strange.

the guards had rolled out tables laden with food....steaming rice, grilled fish, vegetables, kimbap, water, and bottles of soju. the other players, desperate for a moment of relief, had eaten and drunk with abandon.

you and inho had exchanged a look, both of you picking at the food but avoiding the alcohol.

“they want us soft,” he’d muttered under his breath, you had to read his lips from ten feet away to understand what he was saying.

inho's eyes flickered to the masked guards standing watch.

you’d nodded, your stomach twisting.

the guards’ generosity felt wrong, like the calm before a storm.

now, as you sit in the dark, you wonder if you should’ve warned the others.

what could you have said? they wouldn’t have listened.

they were too busy drowning their fear in soju.

your eyes grow heavy, the weight of the past days pressing down on you. you fight to keep them open, but they close involuntarily, your head dipping forward.

you’re still sitting up, your hands gripping the edge of the bed, but sleep is winning.

you don’t hear the soft thud of inho leaving the dorms with two guards, you don’t notice the glint of metal that he was gifted from the chairman himself upstairs for being such a 'favorited player'.

you don’t notice the way he stands, his movements silent and deliberate, his breath steady despite the weight of what he’s about to do.

the first muffed scream doesn’t wake you.

nor does the second.

the room erupts into chaos, but you’re lost in a haze of exhaustion.

your body is slumped against the wall, still sleeping.

inho moves like a shadow, the knife flashing in the dim light. one by one, the other players die as they've slept in their beds. some woke up, but were too drunk and tired to fight off the knife going into their necks.

five lives were cut in moments.

blood pools on the floor, seeping into the cracks, staining all of the bedsheets.

the air fills with the coppery scent of death, but you sleep through it all, unaware of the carnage unfolding around you.

when you wake up ten minutes later, the world around you is a blur.

your eyes are gritty, your head heavy, as if you’ve been drugged.

you blink, trying to clear your vision, and a golden haze fills your sight...the piggy bank above, its glow almost mocking.

you rub your eyes, your movements sluggish, and then you see it.

blood.

everywhere.

it’s splattered across the beds, dripping onto the floor, painting the walls in streaks of red. the bodies of the other players lie twisted and still, their faces frozen in expressions of shock, tiredness, and pain.

your breath catches, a gasp tearing from your throat as your heart lurches.

what?

this can’t be real.

it’s a nightmare, it has to be.

you were just awake, what the hell happened?

you pinch your arm, hard, but the scene doesn’t change.

your eyes dart across the room, landing on inho.

he’s leaning against the wall, his chest heaving, the knife still in his hand. blood stains his clothes, his face, his hands, but his eyes are steady, locked on you.

panic surges through you, and you scramble to your feet, backing away instinctively.

your hands tremble, your mind racing.

is he coming for you next?

you don’t know him, not really.

five days isn’t enough to trust someone with your life.

“stay back,” you choke out, your voice shaking.

your legs hit the edge of a bunk, and you nearly fall, your eyes never leaving him.

inho’s face softens, and he drops the knife. it clatters to the floor, the sound echoing in the silent room.

“I-i’m not going to hurt you,” he says, his voice rough.

he takes a step toward you, and you flinch, your body tensing.

he stops, raising his hands, palms open.

“I was able to do this for us. for you.”

you stare at him, your mind struggling to process his words.

“what… what are you talking about?” your voice is barely a whisper, your eyes flicking to the bodies, the blood, the knife.

“the next game,” he says, his breath still heavy, “they needed more than three players. now there’s only two of us. they can’t continue. we’ve won.”

you shake your head, your thoughts a jumbled mess.

“you… you killed all of them.” your voice breaks, and you press a hand to your mouth.

“i had to,” he says, his voice low but firm.

“it was the only way to get us out. to get you out.”

he takes another step, slower this time, and you don’t move.

into's eyes are intense, but there’s something else there.

something almost desperate.

“i couldn’t let them take you.”

you’re frozen, your heart pounding so hard it hurts. you want to scream, to run, to wake up from this nightmare, but you can’t.

your eyes flick to the knife again, now lying useless on the floor.

he threw it away.

he’s not holding it.

he’s not coming for you.

slowly, the realization sinks in.

he’s telling the truth.

he did this for you.

inho closes the distance between you, his movements careful, like he’s approaching a scared animal. you don’t back away this time, but your body is still tense, ready to bolt. he stops a foot away, his hands still raised.

“i’m not your enemy,” he says softly.

you don’t know what to say.

your mind is a storm of shock, and something else...something you can’t name. you look into his eyes, searching for a lie, but all you see is exhaustion and a strange, fierce protectiveness.

he’s not going to hurt you.

you know it now, deep in your bones.

inho steps closer, and before you can think, he pulls you into a hug. his arms are strong, steady, and you feel the warmth of his body against yours.

the blood from his victims stains your suit.

you don’t hug him back, not at first.

you stand there, your face pressed against his chest, his heartbeat loud in your ear.

you don’t cry.

you thought you would, but the tears don’t come.

it’s not sadness that fills you.

“we’re the last two,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your hair, “456 players, and now it’s just us.”

you nod against him, your throat too tight to speak. you don’t know how long you stand there, his arms around you, the silence of the dormitory pressing in.

the golden piggy bank watches from above, its glow casting long shadows over the carnage as it fills up with more money, making a strange animated sound.

you try not to look at the bodies, but you can’t unsee them.

the guards come eventually, their masks expressionless as they survey the scene. you and inho pull apart, and you brace yourself for punishment, for execution, for something.

they don’t touch you.

they don’t even speak.

one of them gestures for you and inho to follow, and you do, your legs unsteady.

inho walks beside you, his presence a strange comfort in the midst of the horror.

they lead you to a room you’ve never seen before, a sterile black space with a single table and three chairs, two of which being unoccupied.

a man in a suit sits there, his face hidden behind a golden blinged out mask with even more gold trim.

he doesn’t introduce himself, but his voice is calm, almost bored, as he explains that the games are over.

with only two players left, the final game cannot proceed.

little did you know, this was the man who gave inho the knife to win.

you and inho are the winners. the prize is billions of won, and will be split between you. you barely hear him, your mind still stuck on the blood, and inho’s tired eyes.

when it’s over, they let you go.

you walk out into the world, the money deposited into accounts you didn’t even know you had.

inho stays by your side, at first.

a year later, everything changes.

you don’t know how it happens, only that it does.

inho disappears for weeks, then months, and when you see him again, he’s not the man you knew.

you figure out that he got a job. a job as the frontman now, his face hidden behind a mask, his voice cold and commanding. you discovered it after you received a card again, asking you to meet at a location for a meeting.

you don’t recognize him at first, not until he looks at you with those same sharp eyes.

you’re different too.

inho offered you a role...a black masked guard, the guard who oversees all of the other guards.

you took it, not because you wanted to, but because the world outside felt too big.

in some way, the games changed your mind about humanity.

after everything you’d seen, the money didn’t fix you, and it didn’t erase the blood.

you stand in the shadows now, your mask heavy on your face. every year you watch new players run through the same games that nearly broke you.

you don’t think about being a player anymore.

you don’t think about inho, or the knife, or the dormitory stained red.

you tell yourself you’ve forgotten.

deep down, you know you haven’t.

you’re still there, sitting up in that bed, sleeping through the carnage.

masterlist

author's note: I don't write for inho much, but I loved writing this one.

[sinelious]

hiii, could you do a fic of jun ho and the reader raising the 222 baby together? but like as twist she was a survivor of the games. She had been helping gi-hun in the games protect the baby, she knew jun hee. Just think it could be an interseting dynamic. thanks, love your writing :)

Hii <3 I'm sorry I was late, I had a bit of work to catch up on. But thank you for your request, it's certainly an interesting dynamic I would love to work with!

I hope you like it!

Title: All That Remains

Pairing: Hwang Jun-ho × Female!Reader (+ baby girl 222 as a central presence) Genre: Post-Canon | Found Family | Angst | Slow Burn Healing Romance | Parental Bonding | Emotional Hurt/Comfort | Trauma Recovery | Bittersweet Softness Summary: You survived the Game. Not unscarred, not untouched. You still remember the way 222’s baby screamed in that hallway, cradled in Gi-hun’s arms while bullets echoed in your ears. You remember Jun-hee. And you remember promising her, if she didn’t make it, you’d stay behind. You’d protect what was left. Now, months after it all ended, you live in quiet. Until Hwang Jun-ho shows up on your doorstep with that same baby in his arms. And grief in his eyes. His brother is gone. Your friends are gone. But this baby? She’s still here. And somehow, so are you.

"Let me do it." Your voice is barely a whisper, but it slices through the chaos like a blade. "She needs you more than me."

Gi-hun’s face twists, grief, rage, disbelief. He looks down at the baby swaddled in his arms. She’s crying, her tiny fists clenched, unaware of the weight her survival now carries.

"Don’t say that," he snaps. "Don’t you dare." You smile, soft and broken.

"It’s the truth. You have a daughter. A real life to go back to. I don’t." "I don’t have anyone waiting for me." He steps closer, trembling, his grip on the baby tightening like she's the only thing anchoring him to this world.

"Then live for her." "You hear me?" His voice cracks. "If you’ve got nothing else, then live for her."

You turn your head away, swallowing the sob threatening to rise. No one’s ever told you that before. That your life still had weight. That you were worth saving, because someone else needed you.

And in that moment, with the baby's cries ringing in your ears, you begin to wonder if he’s right.

Gi-hun shakes his head. “We’re not horses… we’re humans. And humans are…”

He doesn’t get to finish. He stumbles back, eyes still locked on yours, a brief smile.

You barely have time to scream. “Gi-hun!”

He falls. The baby garbles in her sleep. The speakers crackle above, sterile and sharp:

“The Games have ended.”

The words echo like a funeral bell. You're on your knees before you even register it. Crimson seeps into the floor beneath him. Gi-hun’s hand is still curled like he was reaching for her. For the baby. For you. Footsteps.

Uniformed. Precise. But it’s not the guards who walk toward you.

It’s him. The Front Man.

He approaches without a word. His mask glints beneath the harsh fluorescent lights as he stares at you, then the baby in your arms.

No resistance. You’re too hollow to fight. Too numb to scream again. He extends a hand, not toward you, but as a gesture to follow. And just behind the glass—Hwang Jun-ho arrives.

Gun drawn. Jaw tight. Eyes flicking everywhere at once, searching.

He sees the blood first. Then you. A woman cradling a sleeping child, both of you possibly billionaires, eyes blank, dress soaked in someone else’s sacrifice. You look like grief sculpted into human form. He sees the body.

His brother’s face. Jun-ho doesn't breathe. Doesn't blink.

You haven’t heard a baby cry in six months.

Not since the final Game. Not since the dust settled over blood and marble floors. Not since Gi-hun pressed the child into your arms, trembling, whispering,

“You’ll keep her safe. Promise me.”

You did. For a time. Until the men in uniforms came. Until they took her—“For custody, for safety, for the future.”

You didn’t fight. You had no name. No family. No power. Only shaking hands and a scream you locked behind your teeth.

Since then, silence. Empty bottles on the counter. Pacifiers in drawers you can’t open anymore. Nightmares that taste like milk gone sour and lullabies cut short.

It’s raining when he arrives.

A knock, three soft raps against your wooden door. Measured. Intentional. It isn’t the landlord. It isn’t pity from the government. No one comes here. Not anymore.

You open the door barefoot, in an old sweatshirt and sleep-drowned hair. And there he is. Hwang Jun-ho.

Water clings to the edge of his collar. His hair is longer now, messier. He looks thinner. Paler. But that isn’t what makes your breath catch.

It’s the baby.

Wrapped in a soft green blanket. Eyes wide. Thumb in her mouth. Jun-hee's baby. Gi-hun's baby. Your baby. All those who sacrificed for her.

Your knees nearly buckle. “She cried for you last night,” Jun-ho says quietly, like it’s a sin he’s still repenting for. “I didn’t know what to do. So I brought her here.”

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He shifts the child to his other arm and adds, just above a whisper: “She has your name written in her hospital file. That’s all she’s had, all this time.”

He holds her out. Not forcing, offering. Like she’s not a burden. Like she’s a bridge between the broken pieces of both your lives.

“She’s yours. If you want her.” You’re already crying when you take her. Your arms remember what your mind tried to forget.

She smells like powdered soap and rain. Her little fingers curl in your hoodie string. She doesn’t cry this time.

Jun-ho watches with something unreadable in his face. Grief. Maybe guilt. Maybe a flicker of something like peace.

“Do you want to come in?” you ask, voice raw. He hesitates. Then: “If you’ll have me.”

The baby is asleep.

Your tiny apartment is filled with the soft sounds of her breathing. Nightlight flickering against the walls. A faint lavender scent from the bottle you warmed earlier. Peaceful. Fragile.

You and Jun-ho sit across from each other on the floor, backs against the couch. No wine. No food. Just silence. Just space.

And then, “I didn’t want to win.”

It comes out suddenly. Your voice is calm. Detached, almost.

Jun-ho turns to you slowly. “What?” You don’t look at him. You’re staring at the wall, where the baby’s socks are drying, pinned to a clothesline.

“I entered the Games because I needed the money,” you say. “My grandmother was paralyzed. Hospital bills. Home care. She was all I had.”

You pause. Swallow hard. “But she died while I was still in there.”

Jun-ho doesn’t speak.

“I found out when I got out. Went home with blood on my shoes and billions in a bank account I didn’t know how to use.” “The house was empty. Her chair was still by the window. Her quilt was folded.”

You laugh, once. It's brittle. Hollow. “And now I’ve got money I can’t touch. I can’t even look at it. There’s no one left to spend it on.”

A beat. Then, softer: “Except her.”

You glance toward the baby’s room. Your voice falters. “I think Gi-hun knew that. That I was, empty. That maybe taking care of her would give me something to... hold onto.”

You finally meet Jun-ho’s eyes.

“I don’t know if I’m doing it right. I think about leaving sometimes. Just, vanishing. Letting someone more whole raise her.”

He’s quiet for a long time.

Then, his voice, low, steady: “If you’d left, I never would’ve found her.” You blink. “I didn’t mean—” “I’m not blaming you,” he cuts in. “I’m thanking you.”

You look away again. This time to hide the tears. Jun-ho shifts closer, just slightly. His knee brushes yours. Not accidental.

“You didn’t fail her. Or your grandmother. You survived something no one should have.” “And you stayed soft. That’s not weakness. That’s... impossible. But you did it.”

You exhale shakily. For the first time in a long while, you feel something like warmth.

Next to you, quietly, without asking, Jun-ho reaches over and links his pinky with yours. No promises. Just presence.

And maybe, for now, that’s enough.

It happens on an ordinary afternoon. The sun is bleeding through the sheer curtains. The baby is on her back, giggling to herself as she chews on her fingers. You’re sitting on the floor beside her, folding laundry, half-watching a kids’ cartoon playing in the background.

Jun-ho is at the sink, sleeves rolled up, dish towel slung over his shoulder. He looks relaxed. Almost at home. It should be peaceful.

But then she rolls onto her stomach, pushes up on her arms, and laughs.

You look at her, really look at her. And it hits you like a bullet to the chest. Her eyes.

Round. Wide. Wondering. Just like Jun-hee’s. The shape, the gleam, the innocent tilt upward when she smiles.

It’s her.

The girl with the sharp tongue and soft hands. The one who slipped food into your pocket when no one was looking. The one who called you unnie even when she knew it made you cry. The one who died with her arms reaching forward, toward this baby.

Your hands freeze on the onesie you're folding. Your breath catches.

“Hey,” Jun-ho says gently. “You okay?” You don’t answer.

Because suddenly, everything is too much. The way the baby grins. The tilt of her head. The little wrinkle in her nose.

“She looks like her,” you whisper. “Jun-hee.”

Jun-ho stiffens.

You try to keep breathing, but the weight of it crashes into you all at once. “I thought I was okay,” your voice cracks, “I thought… it had passed.”

The tears come slow at first. Then faster. Then helpless.

You cover your mouth, sobbing now, shoulders shaking as you fold into yourself. “She died thinking we could fix this. That this baby would make it worth it.” “I keep trying to believe that too.”

Jun-ho is beside you in a second.

He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t say it’s okay, because it isn’t. Instead, he pulls you into his chest, arms tight, like he’s holding your grief in place so it doesn’t swallow you whole.

The baby keeps babbling, oblivious to the ghosts in the room. She hears you sob, and tilts her head slightly, fingers in her mouth.

You let the tears come. For Jun-hee. For Gi-hun. For the girl you were in that arena, and the woman you are now, alive, holding a child who carries the faces of the dead.

“She loved you,” Jun-ho says softly, against your hair. “She trusted you.” You nod, sobbing harder. “Then I hope I make her proud.”

You fall asleep on the couch.

Your eyes are still swollen. Jun-ho stays seated beside you, not touching, just… staying. The baby crawls into your lap at some point, curling up like she understands something’s broken.

Jun-ho pulls the blanket up to your shoulders. Tucks it beneath your chin. He watches the way your fingers twitch even in sleep, like you’re reaching for someone who’s already gone.

For a while, he just sits there. The clock ticks. Rain spits lightly against the windows. He doesn’t move.

Then, without waking you, he carefully scoops the baby into his arms.

She yawns, tiny and pink-mouthed, and curls against his chest like she’s always belonged there. He walks her to her crib in the corner, whispering nonsense lullabies under his breath. His voice is rough. Unpracticed. But she listens anyway.

“She’s stronger than both of us,” he murmurs.

He places her down, covers her in the soft blue blanket you stitched together last month, the one with stars and whales. Then he returns to the couch. You’re still sleeping. The lines in your face are softer now. But there’s something hollow there too, carved into the corners of your mouth, like even in rest, you’re grieving.

Jun-ho watches you. And maybe, for the first time in years, something in him finally lets go. Not of the guilt. Not of the past. But of the idea that he has to carry it alone.

His hand brushes yours on top of the blanket. Just once. Then he leans back, lets his head fall onto the cushion beside yours. “I’ll stay,” he whispers. “For her. For you. For Jun-hee.”

And maybe, maybe you hear it. Because even in your sleep, your fingers curl into his.

You wake up to the sound of something hissing. Burning, actually. You sit up on the couch, hair a mess, blanket sliding off your shoulders. The apartment smells like… ambition and failure. Specifically, burnt eggs.

“Jun-ho?” you croak. No answer, just a muffled curse from the kitchen. You shuffle in, socks slipping on the tile.

And there he is. Hwang Jun-ho, former detective, ex-undercover agent, destroyer of criminal empires, currently losing a battle against a frying pan.

He's shirtless under a hoodie, sleeves shoved up, eyes narrowed like the oil just insulted him. “You're… awake,” he mutters.

“You're cooking,” you reply, blinking. “That’s bold.” He glares at the pan. “She was hungry.”

She sits in her high chair, gnawing on a plastic spoon, completely unconcerned by the war zone happening in front of her.

“She eats mashed banana,” you say. “She’s one. You made scrambled eggs and... are those chilies?”

“Protein and flavor.” You snort. “She doesn’t need flavor. She needs teeth.” Jun-ho looks vaguely betrayed. “You could’ve told me that before I diced garlic with surgical precision.”

“You diced garlic?” “With passion,” he deadpans. You can’t help it. You laugh. For a moment, it’s light. Normal. Something out of a life that doesn’t include numbered tracksuits and gunshots.

He looks at you then. Really looks. And you both fall quiet.

You’re still in your oversized sleep shirt. Hair a mess. Face flushed from sleep and maybe from the way he’s looking at you now, like the burnt pan doesn’t exist. Like the whole damn world has narrowed to just you.

“What?” you whisper. He steps forward. “I meant to wait,” he says, voice low. “For what?” “To be sure this wasn’t just trauma. Or guilt. Or... shared ghosts.” Your breath catches. “And now?”

He reaches up, gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now I wake up and burn breakfast for your kid. And it feels more real than anything I’ve ever done.”

“She’s yours too,” you whisper. “I know.” He leans in, slow, like he’s giving you time to stop him.

You don’t. You meet him halfway. The kiss is soft at first. Careful.

Then he tilts his head, and your hand fists in his hoodie, and suddenly it’s not soft anymore.

It’s six months of grief and yearning and unsaid things crashing like waves between your mouths. He kisses like he’s been waiting for permission to feel alive again.

You kiss like you’ve finally been allowed to want something without guilt. When he pulls back, both of you breathless, the pan is smoking behind him.

“You’re still a terrible cook,” you murmur. “I’d burn the world for you,” he replies. You roll your eyes. “Corny.” “You like it.” You do.

And as the baby squeals, throwing her spoon dramatically to the floor, you both break into soft laughter. It’s a wreck of a morning. But it feels like a beginning.

The End

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[sinelious]

PLAYER 124 / NAM-GYU GIFS 4 / ∞

[sinelious]

lost in reality ★ choi su-bong (thanos)

2K FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION

・❥・ summary: when you and thanos draw different teams in hide & seek, he promises to protect you but he's almost too late. ・❥・word count: 1.1k ・❥・warnings: mentions of death, blood, knives, swearing, fighting, mg coin being mg coin - usual squid game stuff. ・❥・authors note: i didn't proofread this but i really enjoyed writing it. i love writing for my boy thanos sm. this is part of my 2k follower celebration <3

The key around your neck felt heavy, the blue vest already making you feel like you were drowning. How were you supposed to survive this? You glanced over to the red team to see Thanos excitedly waving his knife around with Namgyu as they discussed strategies for the game ahead. He caught your gaze out of the corner of his eye, turning his head to face you. His brown eyes locked onto yours, shooting you a knowing wink as his words from earlier echoed through your mind.

‘Listen to me, Senorita. I’ll go off one of those blue fuckers and then I’ll come and find you. Don’t go getting yourself into shit with that smart mouth of yours, okay? Just hide and wait for me.’

Thanos had sworn to protect you the moment he’d seen you in these games. He recognised you from the club – the cute bartender who always blushed when he flirted. That had always been one of his main reasons to go to Club Pentagon. Well, that and the shit Namgyu would get for him. So, imagine his surprise when he spotted you standing alone, hands on your hips the first day you entered these nightmarish games. He had no idea you were struggling that much. In fact, he didn’t know that much about you in the first place but he wanted to. Su-bong just wasn’t the kind of man who looked for anything serious. Mostly it was a one night stand then on to the next but you? You had intrigued him, wormed your way into his cold dead heart to the point he’d begun to care for you. That’s why he couldn’t let anything happen to you. He would try his damndest to protect you.

How was Subong supposed to find you in here? It was a maze of colourful corridors and rooms that often led to nowhere. There had been one moment where you’d unlocked a door, ready to run in to the room but instead your foot had hovered over a ledge. Your only saving grace had been the fact you had been holding on to the door handle, able to stop yourself from falling over the edge. Currently, you were walking down one of the corridors, constantly looking behind you, the commotion of people getting stabbed echoing through your ears. The key you had been given was a triangle one so your eyes were scanning for any door with a triangle lock. When you found one, you turned the key, cautious this time about stepping off a ledge but luckily this was a small room, kids' paintings decorating the walls. 

You were about to take a breath of relief – you could hide here and hope Thanos would find you but as you took the breath in, you were suddenly pushed to the floor. Your head hit the ground hard causing your vision to blur but you managed to catch a glimpse of your attacker.

MG fucking Coin.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

“How many’s that now?” Thanos asked as he pulled his knife from yet another blue. He twirled it around in his hand as he looked at Namgyu who seemed to be counting on his fingers.

“Three. Want to go for four?” Namgyu grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Nah, man, I can’t. I promised Y/N I’d go help her out. Can’t have anything happening to her sexy ass, y’know?” Thanos shrugged.

“You like her, don’t you?” Namgyu teased, waving his knife in front of his friend’s face. 

“Don’t wave that thing at me,” he pushed Namgyu’s arm away as they began to walk down the hallway together in search of you. “But, yeah, man. Maybe. I don’t fuckin’ know. I don’t do feelings and shit. Never really felt like this, though. Like I need to look out for her, protect her.”

“Oh, you’re in love.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Namgyu was about to carry on with his teasing when a scream rang through both their ears. It sounded oddly familiar. Without thinking, Thanos ran off in the direction where it came from. Namgyu followed behind, trying his best to catch up. Thanos slammed a door open and the sight in front of him almost made his heart stop in his chest. There you were, on the floor, eyes hazy with his arch enemy sat on top of you. The knife was pressed into your stomach.

Thanos saw red. Blazing red.

“You motherfucker,” he roared, lunging forward and knocking Myunggi off you. He tackled him to the ground, pinning him below him, throwing punch after punch at his face. Namgyu finally caught up out of breath, taking the scene in front of him. Shit, he had to stop Thanos before he got himself killed.

“Thanos, bro, if you kill that fucker then they’ll kill you,” he said, grabbing at his shoulder but Thanos shrugged him off. His knife was firmly grasped in his hand, hovering above Myunggi neck.

“I don’t give a fuck. I’m going to kill him. Son of a bitch.” Thanos was about to plunge the knife down until he caught you out of the corner of his eye. Immediately, his rage seemed to disappear instead filled with a wave of dread and panic. In his rage, he’d almost forgot you were there, a pang of guilt hitting him right in the gut. He scrambled over to you, cupping your face, his thumbs softly running across your cheeks. It was uncharacteristically gentle for him but he couldn’t care less at that moment. “Hey, Y/N. Wake up. Please wake up, baby. I’m here. Please.”

He smoothed your hair back from your face, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes drifted down to your stomach, seeing the blood. His fingers pulled up your shirt to see how bad it was but thankfully it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. His heart thundered in his chest, eyes wild trying to figure out what to do. He couldn’t lose you, there was no way he was going to. “Come on, wake up. Don’t leave me alone in this fucking place with that fuckhead Namsu.”

“Namgyu,” Namygu corrected, shoving Myyungi as he ran out of the room, calling after him. “I wouldn’t sleep tonight if I were you.”

“...he’s not so bad,” you croaked. You blinked your eyes, still unable to focus but you’d recognise that deep voice and head of purple hair anyway. He really had come back for you, saving you in the nick of time.

“Thank fuck,” Thanos let out a sigh of relief.

“I don’t feel good,” you murmured quietly.

“Yeah, I know, Senorita… but you’re okay. Just stay awake, okay? Don’t close your eyes or I swear I’ll kill you myself.”

“Okay… anything for you, Subong.”

It was in that moment when his heart fluttered and his cheeks burned when he realised Namgyu was right. He was in fucking love.

taglist (ask to be added!): @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @berfgrimm @loveesiren @justsisse @sherrayyyyy @aizshallnotbefound @fleabagspurplewife @bettelaboure @gdinthehouseee @breakmeoff @babyrvis @flymetothexmoon @ttturnitup @szonyix6277 @riddlerloveb0t @youlikeex @septywitch @melanatedhorrorqueen @l5byrinth @tabibabib @thanosspills @moontabi @pinkpunkdynamite @zaaraaax0

[sinelious]

I have this thought of your "don't follow me gyeong-su x reader" fic where while gyeong-su was feasting on the reader, they managed to tied both their hands together with gyeong-su's school tie. 2 endings (?ig)

Reader turned into a zombie so now reader and gyeong-su are just walking on the school field close to each other since their hands are tied.

Or

Reader fainted while gyeong-su was feasting on them and they woke up as a half-bie (and was probably dragged on the ground by gyeong-su while they were asleep and ended up somewhere else). Reader notices gyeong-su with them and just cried since he's gone while they're still there. So reader strolls around and in the school, dragging gyeong-su with them with a blank stare. Whenever gyeong-su tries to run towards somewhere else, (probs because of a loud noise or sumn) reader just pulls him back saying something like "no gyeong-su, stay, don't leave me, don't go :((" eventho he wouldn't understand or listen. Basically reader not being able to separate themselves from gyeong-su since they love him sm </3

Idk if this is considered a request or not. I only told you cuz I got the idea from ur fic wakajslshdgsvs so ykk

— keep following me

gyeong-su x gn!reader | 1.1k words — pt. 1

genre: established relationship, horror, angst

warnings: swearing, blood, suicidal ideation, death, gyeongsu is literally a zombie so… Yeah. aouad stuff basically… this isn’t rly well written sorry writer’s block is kinda hitting i think

synopsis: you wished you’d never survived it.

author’s note: when i saw this in my asks i squealed and almost teared up because the idea was so good. thank you for technically requesting and i hope you like it!!!

Sigh.

Maybe you should’ve started counting the days since you left the AV room with Gyeongsu. Maybe you should’ve done that, but by the time you’d come to after getting bitten, you were too confused by the entire situation you were in to really think about counting days.

So it had been days. You knew that, at least, from the setting and rising of the sun in the sky. You were walking slowly through the outside of the school, the zombies all around you ignoring your existence entirely. You wished the one trailing behind you had gotten the chance to survive like you did.

Strangely enough, Gyeongsu’s bite did not affect you the way it should’ve. You were still human, as far as you could tell. You’d checked Gyeongsu’s pulse and heartbeat, which were completely gone, while yours was still very much there. You were alive, you were a human, and yet a zombie had bitten your shoulder. You could see the mark. The blood. Yet you barely felt anything like the zombies seemed to.

There were a few times you felt like your vision was blurred and reddish, and you’d stop in your tracks with the deep desire to bite into someone’s flesh. That happened. But that was all there was. Sure, that was more than enough— And you shouldn’t be complaining about your situation. After all, you’d survived, and now zombies didn’t even pay attention to you. That was like a golden card of sorts in the world you lived in.

But still.

“Gyeongsu, stop it.” you mumbled tiredly, tugging your arm forward. He groaned incoherently and you sighed, only continuing to walk. During the commotion of him biting you, you’d wrapped your uniform’s tie around both your wrists. Before you’d fully turned, you had enough time and will to do that. You’d thought that at least, whatever happened after that, you two would still be together.

Now you were dragging him around campus, trying to keep him from attacking everything he heard that was a bit too loud. You were exhausted. You wanted to die. When you awoke in that random place in the school’s courtyard after being dragged away by Gyeongsu, you thought you were dead. But then you realized that wasn’t the case. But that it was for Gyeongsu. You couldn’t help the tears that flowed out at the realization, nor could you help the broken laugh that slipped past your lips at the irony of it all. You’d left thinking you would die together, and for some reason, you’d fucking survived. You were tired.

You didn’t even know what to do.

There was a loud, screaming noise in an upstairs corridor, and you heard it through the opened windows. It sounded too much like Cheongsan. Your eyes widened in fear of what situation he might be in but before you could even think about it, Gyeongsu started running towards the noise. You yelled.

“Gyeongsu, wait! No! Fuck, stop running you idiot!” you yelled, pulling him back with all of your strength. He finally stopped and for a moment, he looked at you. Not through you, not at something behind you, but at you. It was for a second, probably, but it looked just like the look he’d given you when you stood in front of that door when he wanted to leave. Your shoulders deflated and you sighed out what could’ve been a sob. “Gyeongsu.”

“Stop running around, you idiot!” you laughed. Gyeongsu stopped and looked at you with a grin.

“You should start running around. We’re playing laser-tag, come on!” he exclaimed, before running away again.

But it was just for a moment. He was still a zombie. You still didn’t have anything to do. You were still not human, and still not a zombie. You were stuck with Gyeongsu, and still had no intention to leave him. You could’ve, after all, could’ve went back to the group to at least tell them. But you didn’t wanna leave Gyeongsu at all.

But everything was too much. So you screamed. To the top of your lungs, you screamed like you needed to to live. Because you needed to to let out the overload of emotions you’d been feeling. “Fuck!” you finally cried out, “Fuck! Fuck off!”

“[name]!”

You looked up, squinting. Then your eyes widened. “Cheongsan?”

“Are you okay?!” he yelled, “I’m in the music room, can you come?” and then he seemed to take notice of your wrist, tied to Gyeongsu’s. “[name].”

“I can’t.”

“[name], listen. You’re not a zombie, look at yourself. Come with me, we’ll manage something.” he said, and in the way he spoke you could hear how upset he was at the idea of letting go of Gyeongsu. “Come on.”

You looked down and at the tie that kept yours and Gyeongsu’s wrists tied together. You exhaled. Your skin was starting to hurt from how many times the boy had tried to run, pulling you along by the arm. And without really thinking, you untied it in a swift motion, but not without grabbing Gyeongsu’s wrist before he could run off again.

“Please.” Cheongsan insisted.

You rubbed your thumb over his wrist and then sighed. You tugged on his arm. “Come on, Gyeongsu… Say goodbye to Cheongsan.”

…

“Say goodbye to me, at least.”

…

“Please.”

Of course he wouldn’t answer.

“Then.”

And then you chuckled, shaking your head. You took a deep breath and looked at him. “Goodbye, Gyeongsu. I’m sorry.”

You slowly let go.

“I love you.”

And somehow, you left. Maybe Cheongsan caught you at the right time. Maybe he found you right when you were thinking about what to do and extended a hand towards you, giving you an option to come back to your friends. Maybe if it had been any other day, you would’ve ignored Cheongsan and left with Gyeongsu. But he caught you at the right time.

When you arrived in the music room, Cheongsan closed the door shut and barricaded it, before engulfing you into one of the tightest hugs he’d ever given you. “Why did you leave, the other day? We were fucking terrified.”

“I’m sorry.”

He sniffled and pulled away, lightly slapping your arm. “I know your aren’t. Stop lying.” he scoffed, walking away. You laughed and headed to one of the opened window, sitting on its edge. Before Cheongsan could ask what you were doing, you explained everything that happened. Then he explained everything that happened on his end, and why he was alone, currently. You told him if you somehow turned at some point, he’d just have to push you off the edge. He agreed, albeit a bit reluctantly, and stayed close to you.

You didn’t know the whole time, the days and nights you spent there, that Gyeongsu was standing still in the courtyard, looking up at the room.

Keep following me, your words echoed. Gyeongsu knew they meant something, from how many times you’d said them. But they weren’t enough for him to somehow turn back into a human. They were just enough for him to wait for you down the window, until your group eventually left for another safer place to go to.

[sinelious]

better with a girl

pairing - hyun-ju x reader summary - it started with a match on a dating app and the belief that you were straight. but hyun-ju—with her soft hands, patient smile, and every kiss that left you needing more—teaches you what it really means to want. warnings - au!hyun-ju, no squid game, afab!reader, sexuality exploration, explicit sexual content, 18+, minors dni!! 9.7k words - your text is bold, hyunnie's is italics!

Honestly, you weren’t looking for anything serious.

Not after the last guy cheated on you with someone from his gym–and the one before that who ghosted you after you told him you like to cook for the people you love, like it was some kind of red flag. You weren’t bitter exactly. Just…tired.

Tired of being the one who cared. Tired of begging for affection like it was some kind of reward. Tired of holding your breath around people who never really saw you.

So, no. You weren’t looking for anything. And definitely not anyone. But your friends wouldn’t let it go.

“You’re too wound tight,” one of them told you over drinks. “You need to get laid, babe. Or fall in love. Preferably both.”

“You say that like they’re easy to find,” you muttered, half into your wine glass.

“You’re not even trying. When’s the last night you went on a date?”

You didn’t answer. 

So a week later, tipsy and half daring yourself, you downloaded the app.

You hesitated when it asked about your preferences. Men. Women. Both. 

You hovered over ‘men’ like always. But then your thumb slid over to ‘both.’ Just for balance, you told yourself. Just in case. You weren’t gay or anything. You were just…curious. And exhausted. And maybe a little too bored.

The app was chaos. A blur of overly filtered selfies and bio quotes like “CEO of making you smile” and “looking for my player 2.”

Her pictures weren’t trying too hard. One of her at a bookstore with glasses on, one lounging on a couch in a leather jacket and bare-faced confidence. Her profile said: “Better in person. Or worse, depending on your taste.”

You swiped right before you could overthink it. 

And then–match. Your stomach dropped a little. And then she messaged you first.

so you’re the one with the pretty eyes and nervous smile?

You read it five times before you replied.

pretty bold opening line

i’m just observant. bold would’ve been asking if you taste as sweet as you look.

Your breath caught, your pulse picking up.

(kidding. mostly)

you can tell me to chill and i will

i don’t want you to chill. just maybe…don’t go full chaos on the first message?

deal. half chaos. full charm 😉

you always this hesitant or am i just special?

maybe both.

i’ve never really talked to…a girl on here before.

There was a pause before she replied. Not long. Just enough to make you worry she’d vanished.

hey, that’s okay.

no pressure. no expectations. i’m just here to get to know you.

unless you want pressure. but like, the fun kind

lol.

are you always like this?

a little. 

but i’m also respectful, attentive, and excellent at ordering takeout.

if you ever wanted to find out.

You hesitate before replying. Your stomach already in knots and you couldn’t stop smiling.

i mean…coffee might be safer than takeout. for now.

for now🤭

send me your schedule. i’ll pick the spot. first date’s on me

first date?

you think i’m this charming just for small talk?

You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal. It was just coffee. Just a date. Just…with a girl.

A really pretty girl with perfect eyeliner and flirty texts and a voice you could practically hear through the screen. But still. Just a date.

Nothing worth getting nervous over.

You stood in the mirror, staring at the mess of clothes scattered on your bed, muttering to yourself like a lunatic. “Why are you freaking out? She’s just a girl.”

You tugged off your third shirt and grabbed another. “She’s a girl, not a rockstar.”

But your hands were shaking. And your heart was pounding. And the lipstick you picked–soft, not too bold, not too try hard–was already smudged from the way you kept pressing your lips together.

You reapplied it, again. And stared at yourself. “She’s just a girl,” you repeated, whispering this time. “You’re straight.”

But the way your stomach twisted said otherwise.

The coffee shop was one of those cozy, indie spots tucked on a quiet street–exposed brick walls, hanging plants, and warm lighting. You spotted Hyun-ju immediately.

She was already sitting by the window, one leg crossed over the other, black turtleneck, jacket slung over the back of her chair. Her hair was pinned back loosely, a few strands falling to frame her face.

She looked up just as you stepped in–and smiled. And your brain short circuited. She stood as you approached, standing much taller than you thought she’d be, and you hated how much your pulse jumped when she reached out and touched your arm gently, just a soft brush of her fingers.

“Hey,” she said, voice like honey. “You look good.”

You laughed, breathless. “Thanks. You too.”

“You nervous?”

“Terrified.”

She grinned. “Good. Me too.”

The date was easy. Infuriatingly so.

She made you laugh. She asked questions and actually listened to the answers. She tilted her head when she talked, smiled at you like you were the only person in the room, and touched your hand once–just to make a point about something dumb–but it lingered. Just a little too long.

And when it was over, and you both stepped outside, the sky soft and fading into gold, she looked at you like she was deciding whether to kiss you.

She didn’t.

She just walked you to your car, winked, and said, “Text me when you get home safe, yeah?”

You nodded. You couldn’t stop smiling the whole way home.

Your phone buzzed ten minutes later.

so… that was better than a date with a guy, huh?😉

Your heart plummeted. Because it was.

You didn’t tell your friends much. Just that you went on a date. Just that it was…nice. You dodged every follow up question like your life depended on it.

“Who was it?” “No one you know.”

“What’s he do?” “He’s–uh. They. Work in creative stuff.”

“Are you seeing him again?” “Maybe.”

They knew you were hiding something, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it out loud. Not yet. You weren’t ready to open that box. Because once you did, it was real. And it already felt too real.

Hyun-ju didn’t text you all day the next day. Not in a mean way. Just gave you space. It made you restless. Until, just before bed, your phone buzzed.

you didn’t forget about me already, did you?

Attached was a mirror selfie–no makeup, oversized tee, hair tied back, and still somehow so beautiful it made your stomach flip. You stared at it way too long before answering.

not yet. you checking in on your competition?

nah. i just wanted to be the face in your head before you fell asleep😇

You didn’t answer that one. But you stared at the photo again before bed. And again when you woke up.

The texting got easier after that. Casual. Fun. But there were moments where her charm slipped into something sharper–playful, but deliberate.

what are you doing friday?

nothing. why?

you’re coming to dinner with me. i want to see how you look in candlelight.

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard.

you always this smooth?

no. just with you.

Friday comes faster than you expect. 

You spend over an hour getting ready, yelling at your closet, changing your outfit over and over again and regretting every choice.

When you arrive at the restaurant, she’s already there. It’s upscale, the kind of place you need a reservation for. The kind where soft jazz hums under the clatter of silverware.

And fuck. She’s wearing a sleek dark blouse tucked into tailored trousers, gold rings on her fingers, and just a touch of mascara. Her hair is down, brushing elegantly over her shoulders.

She stands when you approach. Her eyes trail over you slowly. “Wow,” she says, soft and sincere. “You’re stunning.”

You don’t know what to say, so you laugh, awkward and shy. “You clean up okay too.”

She grins. “Flattery and a compliment? Careful, you’ll make me fall for you.”

You sit across from her, trying to slow your heartbeat. She pours you a glass of wine. Her fingers brush yours.

And as the night unfolds, between courses and soft laughter and the brush of her knee against yours under the table, that voice inside you starts whispering again.

You’re not into women, right?

Then why can’t you stop looking at her mouth? Why do you keep leaning in when she speaks? Why do you want her to reach for your hand and not let go?

You reached for the check the second the waiter dropped it off. “I’ve got it,” you said quickly, already pulling out your card.

But Hyun-ju was faster. She slid the black booklet toward her without even glancing down. “Nope.”

You blinked. “What? Why not?”

“Because I asked you out,” she said simply, pulling her wallet from her coat. “And because I want to.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t–”

“Don’t make me fight you over this in front of everyone,” she warned, but her tone was playful. Her eyes sparkled as she handed over her card.

You sat back in your seat, flustered. “You’re very stubborn.”

She smirked. “And you’re very cute when you’re trying to be polite.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. So you said nothing. Just stared at your wine glass while your pulse thundered in your ears.

The walk back to your car was quiet–but not awkward. The kind of quiet that buzzes with unspoken things. 

You walked side by side down the cobbled sidewalk, streetlights washing the pavement in pale gold. Her hand brushes yours once. Then again. You didn’t pull away.

When you reached your car, you hesitated with your keys in hand. She leaned against the door, watching you. “Well?” she said softly. “Was I worth dressing up for?”

You laughed, breathless. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” She raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Do I need to convince you?”

You didn’t back away–but your chest was tight and your stomach was tangled in knots. 

Hyun-ju leaned in, slow and deliberate, her lips just inches from yours. And then…she stopped. Her breath was warm against your cheek, her voice a murmur. “I want to kiss you.”

Your mouth parted. You couldn’t speak. “But I won’t,” she spoke softer now. “Not until you want me to.”

You felt your heart split clean down the middle. Because part of you was begging for her to do it. And part of you still didn’t know who you were if you let her.

She stepped back. “Drive safe, pretty girl,” she murmured, and turned to walk away. 

You sat in your car for ten minutes before starting it, heart pounding, throat thigh, and eyes burning. Because you wanted her. And you didn’t know what that made you.

You lay in bed staring at the ceiling. The room was dark, quiet–except for the loud, humiliating echo of your thoughts. 

You hadn’t even kissed her. And yet here you were, chest tight, legs tangled in your sheets, your mouth still tingling from the ghost of a kiss that never happened.

You groaned and rolled over, unlocking your phone.

Twitter: no.

Instagram: worse.

Messages: 3 unread. None from her.

Google:...maybe 

You opened the browser. Then, with a subtle grace of a woman having a minor identity crisis, you typed: “am i gay if i like one girl”

Delete. Too desperate.

“signs you’re into women”

Delete. Too obvious.

“can straight girls like girls sometime”

You stared at the screen, jaw clenched, heart racing. Then you opened Notes and started typing to yourself, because texting your friends would mean explaining, and you weren’t ready for that.

okay but it’s not like i want to marry her or anything.

i just like her smile

and her voice

and her hands

and the way she looks at me

and the way she almost kissed me

okay 

maybe it’s something

maybe i like her

maybe i want her to kiss me

fuck 

You slammed your phone face down and groaned into your pillow. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But all you could think about was her voice in your ear, her mouth inches from yours, saying: “Not until you want me to.”

And the worst part? You already did.

The next morning, you were trying to act normal. Just a little grocery shopping. Laundry. Scrolling aimlessly on your phone and definitely not thinking about almost being kissed again in your car.

That’s when she texted.

morning💪

Attached: a gym mirror selfie. She was in a black sports bra and high waisted leggings, headphones around her neck, a smirk tugging at her lips. Hair pulled into a mess pony. Skin glowing. Abs unfair.

You dropped your phone on your chest and let out a noise that can only be described as internal combustion.

you okay?

literally no

that bad, huh?

you’re annoying

and hot

stop this

😌

come over tonight. i’ll feed you and put on a movie. sweatpants encouraged

what are we watching?

something gay. obviosuly.

  😐

bring wine or your nervous energy. whichever is easier to carry

You showed up two hours later with both.

Hyun-ju opened the door in a t-shirt and sweatpants, glasses on, makeup free and still somehow hotter than anyone had a right to be.

Her place was warm and inviting–soft lighting, a lived-in couch, scented candles burning something vanilla and cozy. You sat side by side under a throw blanket, legs touching. She let you pick the movie.

Twenty minutes later, you weren’t even watching it.

You were hyper aware of her every breath. Every time her hand moved. Every shift of her thigh against yours. And when she leaned over to grab the remote from the coffee table, her body brushing yours–

“I don’t know how to do it,” you blurted out.

She paused. “Do what?”

“I mean–any of it. With a woman. Like…” You stared at the screen, horrified at yourself but too far gone now. “Kissing. Touching. Sex. I don’t know how to have sex with a woman. I don’t even know what that looks like. Is it, like–scissoring? Is that even real? And what if I mess it up? What if you want me to touch you and I just, like, poke something wrong and kill the vibe?”

You finally turned to look at her. She was just sitting there. Silent and smiling. Her chin in her hand. Eyes soft and so amused.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

She tilted her head. “Because I’ve never seen anyone talk themselves into a meltdown this adorably before.”

You groaned, burning your face in the blanket. “I’m gonna die.”

“No you’re not.”

I might! I’m a straight girl who got wine drunk and accidently fell into a queer panic spiral in your living room.”

“Baby,” she murmured, reaching out to gently tug the blanket down and uncover your face. “You’re not straight.” You blinked up at her, lips parted. She smiled–soft and certain. “But you’re very cute when you’re trying to fight it.”

You’re still half under the blanket, your face burning, staring at Hyun-ju like she’d just uncovered every secret you’d been hiding.

She hadn’t stopped smiling. Her eyes glittered with something between affection and straight up amusement.

“I’m serious,” you muttered, barely able to hold eye contact. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even know what it looks like. I’ve only ever—like, watched–guy stuff.”

Hyun-ju leaned back on the couch, one arm slung lazily over the cushion behind your shoulders. “You know there’s porn, right?”

Your entire body locked up. “I–what?” 

“There’s porn. Lesbian porn. Gay porn. Real stuff, ethical stuff. It’s pretty easy to find.”

“I’m not gonna watch porn just to figure out how to sleep with you!”

She raised a brow. “Is that what you’re worried about? Sleeping with me?”

“I didn’t mean–I’m not planning to–not like that–I don’t know what I meant–” You were spiraling. Full meltdown mode.

Hyun-ju let you go on for a few more seconds, just watching you with that infuriating calm like she was thoroughly enjoying this.

And then, gently, “Hey.”

You froze. She leaned in just a little closer, her voice low. “You don’t have to learn anything for me. I’m not expecting you to show up with a skill set.”

You blinked at her, breathing hard.

“I don’t care if you’ve never kissed a girl,” she said. “Or touched one. Or even thought about it before me.”

You stared. “But I have thought about it.”

“I know,” she said, smiling again. “That’s why you’re sitting on my couch, clutching a throw blanket and looking like your brain is on fire.”

You let out a noise between a laugh and a sob. “This is so embarrassing.”

“It’s not,” she assured. “It’s honest. And kind of hot, if I’m being honest.”

You whipped your head toward her. “Hot?!” 

“Baby,” she said, barely biting back a grin, “you rambling about how clueless and flustered you are? While blushing and squirming next to me like that?” She shrugged. “Kind of ridiculously hot.”

You let out a broken, strangled sound and buried your face again. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

You stayed hidden under the blanket, your voice muffled. “I can’t believe you said porn.”

She laughed–low, rich, teasing. “What? It’s educational!” You were still hiding under the blanket when Hyun-ju tilted her head and said, casual as ever, “We can watch some together, if you want.”

You froze. “What.”

She blinked. “Porn. You said you’ve never seen–”

“I know what you said,” you hissed, peeking out from behind the blanket with your entire face on fire. “And excuse me, I can watch porn by myself, thank you very much.”

Hyun-ju just smirked, like that was the answer she’d been hoping for. “I’m just saying,” she murmured, “sometimes it’s more fun to learn with supervision.”

You launched a throw pillow at her face.

You didn’t say much after that. You put on another movie. Something safe. Something very not gay. 

But Hyun-ju kept brushing her fingers against yours under the blanket. And you kept pretending not to notice. And your brain kept looping back to what she’d said.

Porn. Together. Supervision.

You weren’t sleeping tonight.

Hours later, back in your own apartment, you lay on your stomach in bed, phone glowing too bright in the dark, anxiety buzzing in your fingertips.

You stared at the search bar. You typed slowly.

“lesbian sex real”

Delete. You weren’t a serial killer.

“lesbian porn”

Okay. You clicked one of the links. The first few thumbnails made your stomach twist. Not because it was gross–because it was…a lot.

But then you clicked on one that looked softer. Realer. Two women kissing slowly, their hands tentative and warm.

Your breath caught. You watched. They touched like they meant it. They kissed like they'd missed each other. You felt heat rush between your legs before you even realized it.

And then–one of them moaned. And it hit you. Sharp and low. You clamped your thighs together, heart pounding, and slammed your laptop shut. You laid there in the dark, breathless, your pulse racing, your whole body tingling.

“Holy shit.”

Because you liked it. You really, really liked it. And suddenly, it wasn’t just about Hyun-ju anymore.

It was a Saturday night, and your phone buzzed just as you were debating whether to eat dinner or cry under a blanket for the rest of the weekend.

going to a club with a friend. you should come

no pressure btw. just vibes

i don’t club

i don’t either. but i do wear tight clothes and look hot under colored lights.

and i think you’d enjoy that

You stared at the phone for a full minute. Then you threw on the best outfit you could pull together in under ten minutes.

The club wasn’t a packed, sweaty disaster like you’d feared. It was dark and moody and glowy–neon reds and blues painting every surface, bass pulsing low in your chest.

Hyun-ju spotted you at the door and waved you over. You nearly choked. She was in black slacks and a cropped mesh top layered over a strappy bralette, all gold jewelry and smoky eyes and smug smiles. Her nails were painted wine red, one hand around a soda glass, the other casually resting on her hip.

“I didn’t know what to wear,” you mumbled when she pulled you into a hug.

Her arms wrapped around your waist. “You wore this,” she murmured, eyes raking over you. “And that’s all I care about.”

You didn’t drink. Neither did she. But it didn’t matter. The music was loud, the lights were low, and her hand stayed on the small of your back whenever you moved. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. The video. The way those women had touched each other. The sounds. The want. And now Hyun-ju was right here–pressed close to your body, her breath warm against your ear every time she leaned in to talk.

You were sober. And still, you felt drunk.

It was almost 1am when the crowd thinned and the music dulled into background haze. You were standing beside her near the exit, blinking slowly, heart crawling up your neck form how close she was.

“You look tired,” she said softly, brushing a hair out of your face.

You nodded barely.

“You don’t have to Uber back, you know.”

You looked up. She shrugged one shoulder. “You can crash at my place. It’s closer. And I’ve got extra clothes.”

You swallowed. “Oh.”

“Unless you’d rather go home.”

“No,” you said quickly. “I mean–I can come over. That’s fine. If it’s okay.”

She smiled. “It’s more than okay.”

The car ride to her place was quiet. Her music low. Her hand rested casually on the gearshift, fingers tapping, rings glinting under the streetlights.

You stared out the window, but your brain wouldn’t shut up.

She’s so close. Her hands. That mouth. What would she sound like?

By the time she parked and let you inside, you were a silent, shaky mess. And the night was just beginning.

Like before, her apartment was warm and quiet, a contrast to the thumping bass still echoing faintly in your chest. She kicked her shoes off by the door and flicked on a lamp–low, amber light casting soft shadows across the room.

“Make yourself at home,” she said, tugging her jacket off and hanging it neatly. “You want water or anything?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m good.”

You stood awkwardly by the couch while she padded off to her bedroom, calling back, “I’ll grab you something to sleep in.”

Your heart was pounding. You stared at the record player tucked in the corner. The plant by the window. The jacket slung over the back of the armchair. It all smelled like her–clean and woodsy, warm and sharp.

She returned a moment later and handed you a fold shirt and some loose cotton shorts. “Bathroom’s down the hall. Take your time.”

You muttered a thanks and practically sprinted out of the room.

By the time you emerged, changed and clean faced, your nerves had officially gone nuclear. 

Hyun-ju was sitting cross legged on the couch, scrolling through her phone, now in sleep shorts and a sweatshirt, her hair loose on her shoulders. She looked…unfairly good. Comfortable. Effortless.

You hesitated in the doorway. Her eyes flickered up, slow and soft. And then she smiled. “You look cute.”

You fiddled with the hem of the oversized shirt she gave you. “It’s literally yours.”

“Exactly.”

You crossed the room slowly and sat behind her, tucking your legs under you. She turned the TV on, scrolled half heartedly through the options.

Neither of you were really watching. Your arm brushed hers. You could feel the heat of her skin. Her thigh close to yours. The hum of tension that had been building since you walked through the door.

She glanced over. “You okay?”

You nodded too fast. “Yeah. just–tired. Long day. Loud music. You know. I’m not really a club person. You could probably tell. Not that I hated it. It was actually kind of fun. Mostly because you were there. Which I guess makes sense. Since I like being around you.”

You were spiraling again. Hyun-ju didn’t say anything.

You hesitated.

Your heart pounded in your throat. You looked at her mouth. Then back to the screen. Then to her eyes. And then you chickened out.

“Anyway,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket over your lap. “Thanks for letting me stay.”

She leaned her head back on the couch, still watching you. Her voice was teasingly low. “Was that supposed to be a kiss?”

Your eyes went wide. “What?! No!”

Her smile grew. “Are you sure?”

You flushed all the way to your ears. “I wasn’t–I mean, I thought maybe–but then I didn’t–I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Hyun-ju tilted her head, her voice softening. “Baby,” she said gently, “you don’t have to know what you’re doing. You just have to want it.”

You didn’t answer. But you didn’t move away either. You were frozen. Her words echoed in your chest: ‘you just have to want it.’ And god, you did.

You just didn’t know how to ask. 

She shifted beside you, slow and smooth, like she was giving you time to back away. You didn’t. Her hand came up to your cheek, gentle and grounding. Her thumb brushed softly under your eye, then down to the curve of your jaw.

“You’ve kissed guys before, right?” she asked, voice low.

You nodded nervously. “Yeah.”

She smiled. “It’s the same idea…just way better when it’s another girl.”

Your breath caught. She leaned in slowly, her voice like velvet. “It’s not about technique. Or pressure. Or anything you’ve seen in movies.”

Her nose brushed yours, barely there contact that made your stomach twist. “It’s about attention,” she whispered. “Letting it build. Following what feels good.”

Her lips touched yours–just once. A soft press. A question. You exhaled like you’d been holding your breath for hours.

She kissed you again–slightly deeper now, slow and sure. Her lips warm. Soft. She let you feel the shape of her mouth, the gentle tug and press. No rush. No demand. “Just like that,” she whispered against your lips. “You’re doing perfect.”

You whimpered without meaning to. She pulled back just enough to look at you. “You okay?”

You nodded quickly. “Can I… can we do that again?”

That smile. That smile.

“I was hoping you’d ask.” And then she kissed you again–longer, guiding her lips with hers, her hand still cradling your cheek. You followed her lead–tentative, shy, but hungry. Your hands found her waist. She let out a soft hum of approval.

“There you go,” she murmured, lips brushing yours between words. “See? You’re already learning.”

She kissed you again–slightly deeper, a bit slower. “You’re a natural, baby,” she whispered.

You gasped softly, dizzy from praise, from the heart blooming in your chest. “I didn’t think–kissing a girl would feel like–”

Her fingers threaded gently through your hair. “Like that?”

“Like…this.”

Hyun-ju smiled, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Like something you want to do again?” You nodded. “Good.” She kissed your jaw. “Because I’m not done showing you.”

You didn’t go any further that night. Just kissing. Soft, slow, and gentle. When it got too much–when your hands trembled or your breath caught in that panicky way–Hyun-ju pulled back, tucked your hair behind your ear, and whispered, “that’s enough for tonight, baby. You did so good.” And you melted.

A few days later, she picked you up in the late afternoon with a picnic basket and a blanket thrown in the back seat like it was nothing. “You’re so domestic,” you teased as she opened the passenger door for you.

She just smirked. “Only for girls who wear nervous smiles and make me drive across town for the good strawberries.”

She took you to a quiet park, a little hill shaded with trees, far enough from anyone else to feel like it was just the two of you.

You helped her lay out the blanket. She unpacked sandwiches, fruit, two glass bottles of soda, and a pack of cookies she’d clearly bought last minute.

You both sat down, sunlight streaking through the trees, laughter soft and easy between bites. And you couldn’t stop looking at her. The way her hair caught in the light. The stretch of her legs where she lounged beside you. The little smirk she gave you when she caught you staring and didn’t say a word.

Your stomach flipped. You’d been thinking about kissing her again for days. The memory of it was still warm in your chest–her mouth, her hands, the way she’d held you like you were something fragile and precious.

And now, sitting beside her on a blanket in the fading sun, you wanted it again. You ached for it. But you didn’t know how to say it. Instead you said, “This is nice.”

She glanced at you, one brow lifted softly. “Yeah?”

You nodded, heart in your throat. “I like spending time with you.”

Hyun-ju leaned back on one arm, eyes gentle. “I like spending time with you too.”

You hesitated. Then leaned over, just a little. Her gaze flickered to your mouth, then back to your eyes. She didn’t move. Didn’t rush you. “Can I kiss you?” you whispered.

And god, the way she looked at you then–like you’d just handed her the sun. “You don’t ever have to ask,” she said softly. “But I love it when you do.”

You leaned in, hands shaking just a little, and kissed her. Slow. Lingering. Sunlight on your skin, her fingers brushing your knee like a promise. And for the first time, you didn’t feel like you had to explain yourself. You just felt.

That evening after the picnic, she brought you back to her place. You didn’t want to go home–not yet. Not when everything inside you was still buzzing. Not when the quiet between you felt so full.

You both curled up on her couch under a blanket, a random movie playing low in the background. You were tucked into her side, your head on her shoulder, her arm around you like it had always belonged there.

You didn’t speak for a while. But eventually, you whispered, “I still don’t know what I am.”

Hyun-ju didn’t flinch. Didn’t shift. Just kept stroking her fingers through your hair like your words didn’t scare you.

You swallowed hard. “I mean, I like you. I really like you. But I still get scared sometimes. Like, I think about kissing you and I get excited and nervous at the same time. I don’t know what that means. If I’m…gay. Or bi. Or just confused. I feel like I should know.”

Her hand paused for a second–just long enough for you to notice. Then it moved again. “You don’t have to label it right now,” she said quietly. “Or ever, if you don’t want to.”

You pressed your cheek into her chest, listening to the slow thud of her heartbeat.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” you whispered. “You’ve been so good to me.”

“You’re not going to mess anything up,” she murmured, her voice low and certain. “You’re allowed to be figuring things out.”

You blinked hard, your throat felt thick. “And what if I just…stay confused?”

Her hand slid under your chin, tilting your face up gently. Her eyes met yours–steady, warm, so full. “Then we stay confused together,” she said. “As long as you want me around.”

You let out a breath tha felt like a release. And she leaned in, kissing your forehead, and whispered: “I’m not going anywhere.” 

A few weeks later things have changed, in soft, quiet ways.

You and hyun-ju were still texting every day–little things at first: good morning, good night, updates about your day. But somewhere along the way, your texts got…flirtier. Playful and teasing.

She started sending mirror selfies when she got dressed for work. You started sending emojis you wouldn’t have dared to use before. And sometimes, late at  night, the conversation drifted into gentle, breathless places.

Still, nothing more than kissing. But everything building. One night you invited her over. Not because she offered. Not because she insisted. Because you wanted to.

you’ve never been to my place

you should come over sometime

tell me when, baby. i’ll be there

And just like that, she was.

You had tried to clean. Really tried. But you still felt a flush of embarrassment when she stepped inside, eyes sweeping the cluttered counter, the unfolded laundry on a chair, the half dead plant in the window.

“It’s not–sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” you said quickly, tossing a sock into your bedroom.

But she just smiled, slow and fond. “It looks like you live here. I like that.”

You gave her a look. “You would say that.”

“I meant it.”

She toed off her boots and padded toward the couch like she’d been there a hundred times. You followed, still a little flustered, and sat beside her with a sigh. You’d picked up chocolate from that corner store she liked, and she grinned when you brought it out.

“I love that you remembered this,” she said, unwrapping one and popping it into her mouth.

You shrugged, smiling. “You said it was your favorite.”

She leaned back on the couch, ankles crossed. “You’re learning me.”

“Trying to,” you responded. Your voice came out smaller than you meant. Her eyes shifted to you, something softer behind them now. And your heart picked up. There was something you’d been meaning to ask. You just didn’t know how. You fiddled with the corner of the chocolate wrapper. “Can I ask you something?”

Hyun-ju nodded. “Anything.”

You hesitated. “I’ve been thinking about…us,” you started slowly. “And about going further. Eventually.”

Her expression didn’t change–still calm, open, listening.

You took a breath. “I just–I don’t really know how anything works. With two women. Like, really works. And I know I could Google it, and I have a little, but it’s not the same as talking to someone who…” Your cheeks were burning now. “Who knows. Who had done things.”

Hyun-ju didn’t laugh. She didn’t tease. She leaned in, her voice quiet but full of warmth. “You can ask me anything, baby. I’ll tell you the truth.”

You were blushing so hard you thought you might catch fire. But Hyun-ju didn’t look surprised. Or uncomfortable. Just soft and steady. She turned on the couch, facing you fully now, her knee brushing yours. “Okay,” she said quietly. “What do you want to know?”

You hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Everything?”

That made her smile. Not teasing–fond. “Alright, let’s start simple.”

She reached for your hand, lacing her fingers gently through yours, her thumb brushing the top of your knuckles. It grounded you. Slowed your breath.

“There’s no one right way,” she started. “Some women like fingers. Some like mouths. Some like toys. Some don’t want penetration at all.” You nodded slowly. “And all of that’s okay. What matters is listening. To your partner, to yourself. Asking what feels good. Paying attention.”

Then she asked, “Have you had sex with guys before?”

You nodded. “Yeah. A few.”

Her head tilted. “Did you like it?”

You opened your mouth then closed it. Hyun-ju just waited. You shifted, cheeks burning. “I thought I did? Or I thought I was supposed to? I don’t know. It always just kind of felt…like it was happening at me.”

She hummed softly. “Did you even cum?”

You blinked at her. Didn’t say a word. Her brows lifted, and the tiniest smirk tugged at the edge of her mouth. “Ah.”

You groaned and dropped your head into your hands. “This is so humiliating.”

“Baby,” she said, tugging your hand gently down so she could see your face again. “No, it’s not. It’s not. It’s honest. And it makes me want to take my time with you even more.”

You looked at her–really looked at her–and your chest squeezed. “I want to try,” you whispered. “Not tonight. But sometime. With you.”

“I’d love that, whenever you’re ready.”

You swallowed hard. “Would you…show me? What it’s supposed to feel like?”

Her hand slid gently up your arm, fingers brushing your jaw, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ll show you everything,” she said. “Exactly how good it gets. And I’ll go slow. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for. But when you are–I want to ruin you for anything else.”

Your breath caught. And then–so quiet you almost didn’t hear yourself say it: “Do you want to stay over?” 

Her smile was instant. And so, so soft. “I thought you’d never ask.”

It had taken you weeks to work up to it, but you finally told someone. One of your closest friends, mid coffee run and panic spill, when you blurted out, “I’ve been seeing someone…kind of. A girl.”

They didn’t even blink. “Is she hot?”

You nearly dropped your drink. “Yes?! That’s not the point!”

They laughed. “It’s very much the point.”

And after that, it got a little easier. You started doing research. Quietly. Privately. Watching videos, reading articles, letting yourself imagine. You even bought a toy–nothing major, just something small and safe to test the waters. And after all that…you still wanted her. No confusion. No doubt. Just want.

So when one of your friends invited you and Hyun-ju out to a club, you said yes. You texted her first.

i wanna go out with you tonight. like properly…dancing and all

that sounds dangerously like a date

maybe it is

i’ll wear something slutty

You nearly combusted. The club was loud, neon-lit, crowded–but it didn’t matter. Because she was there. In a cropped top and tailored pants, hair sleek, skin glowing under the lights. Your friends met her, exchanged looks you pretended not to notice, and she handled it like she always did–cool, calm, absolutely magnetic.

You stuck close to her the entire night. And for the first time, you didn’t hide it. You let your fingers trail down her arm when you leaned in to talk. You pressed your hand to her waist when the bass got too loud and the crowd swelled. You even kissed her cheek once, lingering longer than you ever had before.

Her hand found yours and squeezed. Adn when you pulled her onto the dance floor, she came willingly–one hand on your hip, the other sliding low, slow, possessive. You couldn’t stop touching her. You didn’t want to.

Back at your apartment, the air was different. Charged and quiet. You let her in and closed the door behind you with a shaky breath. Hyun-ju turned to face you, eyes dark, searching. “You okay?”

You nodded. “I want to,” you said. “Tonight.”

She stepped closer. “You sure?”

You nodded again, heart pounding. “I’ve thought about it. A lot. And I’m scared, but I…I want it. With you.”

She crossed the room slowly, closing the space between you. “Okay,” she murmured. “Then I’m going to take care of you. And you’re going to tell me everything you like. If you want me to stop, I stop. If anything doesn’t feel good, you say the word.”

You nodded again, eyes wide. “Okay.”

Her hand slid up your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek. “You ready?”

“Yes…” you whispered. 

She smiled. “Good girl.”

She kissed you slowly–no rush, no hunger, just warmth. Gentle lips and the slow slide of her hands around your waist like she was holding something sacred. When she deepened the kiss, you gasped softly, and she took it like a promise.

You let her guide you to the bed, her mouth never leaving yours. “You nervous?” she whispered against your lips. You nodded. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.”

Her hand stroked down your back. “Okay.” 

Hyun-ju helped you out of your clothes piece by piece, pausing between every step. “You’re doing so good,” she whispered, pressing kisses to your shoulder, the curve of your collarbone. “So beautiful, baby. You’re okay.”

When you were bare in front of her, you instinctively went to cover your chest with your arms–but she caught your wrists, softly. “Don’t hide,” she said. “You’re perfect. I want to see all of you.”

And god, the way she looked at you–like you were art, like you were something holy–made you want to cry.

She undressed too, letting you see her at her own pace, and kissed you again as she gently guided you onto the bed.

She started with her hands. Slow strokes along your thighs, your stomach, your chest–never rushing, never groping. Just learning you. Letting you feel how much she wanted to be there.

“Tell me if anything feels weird, okay?” she said as her fingers slid between your legs, featherlight. “I’m going to start slow.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. Her fingers dipped lower, circling your clit in the softest, slowest motion. Your hips twitched, and she immediately paused.

“Too much?”

You shook your head quickly. “No–just surprised.”

“That’s okay.” She smiled. “We’re not in a hurry.”

When she found the right rhythm–gentle, steady, maddening–you couldn’t stop the sound that left you. A gasp. A whimper. 

“Just like that,” she murmured. “Let go. Don’t think. Let it feel good.”

Her lips found your neck, warm kisses as her fingers coaxed you further, deeper into the feeling. You were panting now. Hands tangled in the sheets. Her name on your lips. “I’m gonna–” you gasped. “I think I’m–”

“That’s it,” she whispered, mouth brushing your ear. “Let me see you, pretty girl. Cum for me.”

And you did. With her name caught in your throat, your body arching into her hand, you unraveled completely. And when it was over–when your body went soft and trembling beneath her–she kissed your cheek, then your shoulder, and pulled the blanket up over you both. “You okay?” she whispered, brushing your hair from your face.

You nodded, breath still catching. “I’ve never…nothing’s ever felt like that before.” 

She kissed your forehead. “That’s because no one’s ever taken the time to learn you.”

You laughed, breathless. “So that’s what it’s supposed to feel like.”

Hyun-ju smirked, tucking you into her arms. “Mhm. told you it was better with a girl.”

You buried your face in her neck, smiling. “Stay?”

She wrapped her arms around you like she already belonged there. “Always.”

The room was quiet, warm, lit only by the soft glow from your hallway light. You were curled in Hyun-ju’s side, tangled under your blanket, your body still humming from what she’d just done to you. Your fingers played lazily along her stomach, tracing the hem of her tank top. 

She had one arm behind her head, hair a little messy, face flushed but smug. “You still breathing?” she teased.

“Barely,” you mumbled into her shoulder.

“Good.”

You laughed, and tilted your face up toward hers. Then kissed her. Softly. Slowly. A little longer than before. Her lips curved against yours. “Hey,” she warned between kisses. “You keep doing that and you’re gonna turn me on again.”

You smiled sweetly. “That’s the plan.”

Her eyes darkened instantly. “Oh, really?”

You nodded, blushing. “I feel…braver now.”

She pulled you into her lap, her hands sliding to your waist. “Mm. That so?”

You nodded again, but there was still a flicker of nerves in your eyes. She saw it–of course she did. But instead of pushing, she leaned forward and kissed your collarbone. “Then let me return the favor,” she whispered. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She took her time with you again–slower, even, than before. This time, you were laid out completely, her lips trailing kisses down your stomach, her hands spreading your thighs like they were hers to keep. “Let me show you what my mouth can do,” she murmured as she kissed the soft skin of your inner thigh. 

You whimpered. And then–oh god. Her tongue was gentle at first. Careful. Drawing slow circles around your clit without ever quite pressing into it. She flicked, teased, tasted you like she was starving–and you couldn’t stop moving. “H-hyun-ju–”

“Shh, I know,” she said between kisses. “You’re doing so good. You taste so fucking sweet.”

When you started getting close, her tongue would slow. Pull back. Kiss along your thighs again until you were gasping. “Please,” you whimpered. “Don’t stop.”

She smirked against your skin. “Not yet.”

“Hyun–” You tried to move your hips, chase her mouth, but her hands pinned your thighs open with gentle strength.

“You’ll cum when I say,” she murmured. “And not a second before.”

You were panting now, eyes glassy, voice cracking. “But–what about you?” you asked, nearly sobbing. “You said I was turning you on. Don’t you want–”

She looked up at you from between your thighs, mouth wet, eyes half lidded with hunger. “Oh, I do, baby. But tonight’s for you. And I’m not stopping until you cum so hard you forget your own name.” 

You moaned, legs trembling, body arching off the bed. And this time, when she sucked your clit between her lips and moaned into you…you broke. You came with a cry, your whole body trembling, hands gripping the sheets, hips stuttering as she licked you through it, slower now, softer, until your body collapsed back into the mattress.

She crawled up beside you, kissed your forehead, and whispered, “that’s two.”

You blinked, still catching your breath. “You’re keeping score?”

She grinned. “Of course.”

You didn’t fall asleep right away. Your body was too full of warmth. Your chest still fluttering from what she’d just done to you. You were curled up in her arms, your face tucked into the space where her neck met her shoulder, her hand brushing slow circles across your back.

Hyun-ju kissed the top of your head and exhaled softly. “That was really special to me,” she said. You blinked up at her. “Tonight,” she added. “You. Trusting me. Wanting me.”

Your heart tightened. “Of course I trust you.”

“I know. But…still. You didn’t have to let me in like that. And I know it wasn’t just about sex for you.”

You nodded, quietly. Her hand kept moving across your back. “I’ve had hookups,” she continued. “Casual stuff. Things that didn’t mean anything. But tonight–this meant something. Because it was you. And because I know how hard it is to be brave when your whole body’s screaming that you’re new to this.”

You pressed your lips to her shoulder. “You make it feel easy.”

She kissed your hair in return. “That’s the goal.”

You didn’t say anything for a long time after that. Just stayed there, tangled together, your hand resting over her heart.

It didn’t stop after that. If anything, it became impossible to stay away. You craved her. Her mouth. Her hands. Her laugh. Her steadiness. You started spending more time with her than without her–half your clothes in her closet, a toothbrush at her sink, a mug she kept just for you in her cabinet.

When you had to work, you texted her all day. About everything and nothing. About how bored you were. About how hot she looked in the selfie she sent at lunch. About how badly you wanted to crawl into her lap when she called you baby in a voice memo.

And Hyun-ju? She was insatiable. Not in a demanding way–but in that way where all it took was a look. One look from you and she was on her knees. On the floor. Behind the door. Wherever she could have you.

Once, she had her mouth on you in the backseat of her car. Thirty minutes before you were due to meet her friends for dinner. She made you cum twice, then fixed your hair like nothing happened, kissed your flushed cheek, and said, “You look even prettier like this.”

And you let her. Every time.

But lately, something had been tugging at your chest. A kind of guilt. A kind of ache. You loved the way she touched you. The way she cared for you, praised you, took you apart like it was her favorite thing.

But she hadn’t asked for anything. She never even hinted. And you wanted to give her something back.

So one night–warm lights, soft music, your body tangled with hers on the couch–you kissed her. Not tentative. Not testing. Just…wanting.

She kissed you back, gentle but a little surprised at how eager you were. You straddled her lap, fingers curling into the hem of her shirt. She pulled back slightly. “Baby–”

“I want to,” you whispered. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

Her eyes ghosted over your face, searching. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Please. I want to learn. I want you.”

Seh let you tug off her shirt, your hands shaking slightly. You kissed down her neck, fingertips brushing her ribs. You slid off her pants next, leaving her in just her bra and panties–so beautiful you forgot to breathe.

But then–you froze. Not because you didn’t want her. Because you did. So much it scared you.

Hyun-ju noticed instantly. Her hands came to rest gently on your hips. “Hey,” she whispered. “Look at me.”

You did. She was calm. Beautiful. Patient. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

You shook your head quickly. “No–I want to. I just…I don’t want to do it wrong.”

Her hand slid up to cup your face. “You won’t,” she said softly. “I’ll help you. I’ll tell you what feels good. We go slow. We go together.”

You swallowed. “Okay.”

And when she kissed you again, it was like falling into warmth you already knew by heart.

The kiss is deeper now. Slow, lingering kisses that tasted like trust and nerves and something more. Smoothing warm blooming between your ribs. Her hands stayed on your hips, grounding you. You pulled back just enough to whisper, “Tell me what to do.”

Hyun-ju smiled softly. “Start with touching. Explore. You don’t have to rush.”

Your fingers drifted down her sides, mesmerizing the curve of her waist, the slope of her thigh, the softness of skin beneath cotton. She was laid out beneath you, eyes never leaving yours.

Your fingers hit a spot on her stomach that made her jump slightly and giggle, your eyes snapped up but she just assured you it was because you tickled her.

So you continue.. Your hand hovered near the waistband of her underwear. Your mouth was on her neck now, and you sucked on her skin briefly. But then you stopped moving, pulling away so you could sit up. Breath shallow. Pulse fluttering in your throat.

Hyun-ju cupped the back of your head, voice warm and low. “You’re doing so good, baby,” she whispered. “Don’t overthink it.”

“I’m not–I just…” you swallowed. “I’ve never–”

“I know. I know you haven’t.” She kissed the side of your face. “Let me help, yeah?”

You nodded, and she gently took your hand, guiding it over the soft skin of her stomach, down– “You don’t have to go inside,” she murmured, “unless you want to. Just touch me the way you like being touched.”

Your fingers brushed the front of her panties and she sighed, hips shifting slightly beneath you. The sound shot straight through you, a bolt of nervous desire sparking low in your belly. You pressed more firmly, rubbing gentle, clumsy circles.

She gasped softly. “Yes. Just like that.”

You looked up at her, eyes wide. “Really?”

“Really,” she said, breathless now. “Feels so fucking good, baby.”

Your face flushed. You kept going. Tentative at first. Still unsure. But the more she moaned for you, the more her hips lifted to meet your hand, the more your nerves twisted into something bold.

You kissed her chest, her collarbone. Nuzzled into the space above her bra, lips brushing the swell of one breast. 

She arched into your touch. “I love watching you learn,” she murmured. “You’re so careful. So sweet.”

You whimpered. “I want to be good for you.”

“You are,” she said. “You already are.”

Her praise made your head spin. You slipped your hand into her panties, heart hammering as you finally touched her. She was wet. So wet. And warm. And soft. “Fuck,” she moaned, clenching around nothing. “You’re making me crazy.”

Your fingers moved slowly, spreading her open, rubbing gentle circles around her clit. “Like that?” you whispered. 

“Exactly like that,” she breathed. You couldn’t stop looking at her. Her mouth slightly open. Her eyes fluttering. Her thighs tensing under your body as you moved. She was so responsive. So vocal. And still, so focused on you.

“You’re doing everything right,” she said. “I want you to feel how much I want you.”

“I do,” you whispered. “I want to make you cum.”

She groaned. “Keep going, baby. You’re almost there.”

And when her body finally shook–when she moaned your name and clenched around your fingers and pulled you down for a kiss–you felt more powerful and wanted than you ever had in your life.

You held her until her breathing slowed, until her hands relaxed against your spine. You whispered, “Did I really do okay?”

She smiled, eyes half lidded. “You didn’t just do okay. You wrecked me.”

You giggled, your face buried in her neck. “I want to do it again. Soon.”

“Then we’ll do it again. As many times as you want.”

Time passed. Not in a loud, dramatic way. But in soft little shifts. In the quiet turning of pages. In the way your heart stopped feeling like a question every time you looked at her.

You started holding her hand in public. At first, it was small. Just pinkies brushing on the subway, or you knuckles resting against hers in a cafe line. But then it was real. Linking your arms when walking through the park. Reaching for her hand across a dinner table. Sitting her lap during a game night at a friend’s place without flinching when someone raised an eyebrow.

She noticed every time. Not with a smirk, not with a joke–but with a quiet squeeze of your hand. A kiss to your temple. The smallest smile that said I see you. I know how far you’ve come.

You told your parents. You practice in the mirror for three days. Rehearsed every line. Anticipated every question. And when you finally said the words out loud–”I’m dating a woman. Her name is Hyun-ju.”–your mom just blinked.

Then said, “Is she nice?” 

And when you brought her home for dinner, she was more than nice. She helped wash dishes after. Told your dad his bad jokes were genuinely funny. Complemented the food like it was five-star dining. Your mom said she hoped Hyun-ju would come back soon.

You nearly cried in the bathroom after. Hyun-ju waited until you were curled in bed that night to kiss your forehead and whisper, “You did that. I’m proud of you.”

She introduced you to her brother next. He greeted you with a skeptical squint and a sarcastic, “So you’re the reason she’s been smiling like a Disney princess lately.”

You wanted to crawl into the floor. But by the end of the night, you were all laughing over drinks, and he sent Hyun-ju a selfie of the two of you with the caption: she’s way too sweet for your scary ass.

She grumbled, but you caught her saving the photo anyway.

And behind closed doors, you kept learning. You kept asking. And Hyun-ju kept giving.

You ate her out for the first time–nervous, shaking, trying to remember everything she’d taught you. She guided you with soft sighs and patient praise. Held your hair back. Moaned your name. “Just like that,” she whispered. “You’re making me fall apart.”

You learned her body in pieces. The curve of her hips. The sounds she made when you kissed her inner thigh. The way her voice dropped when she was close.

Eventually, she let you use toys–slowly at first, testing sizes and shapes, her hands always on your wrists, her eyes always watching yours. You’d never felt so trusted. So empowered. So wanted. And every time you touched her, every time you made her gasp or cry out or come undone, you couldn’t help but think–this is what love feels like.

The first time you said I love you…wasn’t when you meant to.

It wasn’t after a grand romantic gesture. It wasn’t in the middle of sex, or during an anniversary dinner, or while watching a sunset hand-in-hand.

It was on a Tuesday. You’d both had a long day. Work had sucked. The trains were late. You were grumpy, cold, and tired, and all you wanted was food and warmth and her.

You got to her apartment half an hour late, kicking your shoes off with a groan and dropping your bag like it had offended you personally.

“I bought dumplings,” you muttered, voice flat, “but they’re probably lukewarm at best and if I don’t sit down in the next five seconds I’m going to cry.”

Hyun-ju didn’t say anything. She just walked over, took your coat off for you, cupped your face in her hands, and kissed your forehead. And that was it. That was the moment. That moment you realized it had already happened. 

You were already in love with her. You had been for a while. You just hadn’t said it yet. So you stood there, with your arms still half in your sleeves, heart wide open and raw, and blurted it, “I love you.”

The air stopped. Hyun-ju blinked. You blinked. Your stomach dropped. “Oh my god,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean–wait, no, I did mean it, I just–fuck.”

She smiled. Not big. Not dramatic. Just soft. Quiet. Like the words had been sitting on the tip of her own tongue too. “Good,” she said. “Because I love you too.” You stared at her, wide-eyed and overwhelmed. She kissed you again. Slower this time. With the kind of love that said I’ve been waiting for you to say it. Then she grabbed the bag of dumplings, pulled you toward the couch, and said, “Now sit down before you.”

author's note - hope you all enjoy! this was so special for me to write, and so much fun. i hope you love it as much as I do!!

[sinelious]

despite all my rage (i'm still just a rat in a cage) | series ᯓ★

⇢ ˗ˏˋ kang dae-ho x fem!reader x nam-gyu࿐ྂ

A card was given to her. It was promised to be the solution to all her problems—running away from her pathetic ex, being treated like shit and providing for her sick mother and young brother. She reluctantly agrees to joining. She thought her life would change after participating in the games but not in the way she really thought.

read here

[sinelious]

famous people who mysteriously vanished

thanos x myunggi x f!model!reader with features of romantic!namgyu x f!model!reader

synopsis: a youtuber goes over an iceberg about famous people who have vanished. three players from the 37th annual squid games happened to be in the iceberg. unfortunately, nobody will ever know about their fate

warnings: major character death, based off of a TikTok, angst, sex scandals, leaked sex tapes, hints of american!reader.

the youtube video starts with a dimly lit screen, a grainy iceberg graphic floating in a dark, digital sea. the title reads, "famous people who mysteriously vanished."

the youtuber's voice cuts through, low and gripping.

"welcome back, mystery hunters. today, we’re diving into the iceberg of famous disappearances...starting at the tip with names you know, and sinking into the unsettling depths. let’s go."

they kick off with the easy ones.

for example the dolan twins, who ditched youtube in 2022. jenna marbles too, gone silent after her 2020 apology, leaving fans shocked about her exit.

these are the cases everyone’s heard of, dissected on forums and twitter threads.

around twenty minutes into the video the youtuber’s tone shifts, their eyes glinting as they move to the second tier.

"things are about to get weirder," they warn.

a photo of lee myunggi, better known as mgcoin, flashes on-screen. the south korean youtuber, once a crypto and stock market guru, stares confidently into the camera in an old thumbnail.

"lee myunggi was a big deal," the youtuber says, "millions followed his crypto tips, his stock picks, his flashy lifestyle. but in early 2024, he got tangled in a shady scheme. billions lost...his money, his fans’ money. then, poof. he was gone."

the screen cuts to a blurry cctv still, a man in a hat some swear was myunggi in the subway, spotted in seoul before october 2024.

"most think he fled to the philippines with his crypto buddies, living large under a new name but here’s the kicker: his girlfriend, kim junhee, a rising influencer, stopped posting that same month. no trace of her either. coincidence? or something darker?"

the youtuber pauses, letting the question hang.

in reality: lee myunggi participated in the 2024 squid games. coming in second place, he nearly sacrificed his own daughter that was born inside of the games. the man's ex girlfriend, jun-hee, died shortly after childbirth due to suicide after the fifth game. myunggi died after falling off of a tower, the jacket holding him ripped and dropped him to his death.

the three hour long youtube video goes along, the youtuber’s voice steady as they navigate the iceberg of mysterious disappearances.

after lee myunggi’s case, they rattle off six more names from the second tier. forgotten actors, disgraced influencers, a twitch streamer who logged off after being jailed for ten felonies.

each story is strange, but none hit the same eerie note as myunggi and his missing girlfriend.

the screen darkens as the youtuber descends to the third tier.

“we’re deep into the iceberg now,” they say, “and the stories? they’re starting to feel… connected.”

in the fifty-sixth minute of the video...the second name in the third tier of the iceberg lights up the screen.

choi su-bong, better known as thanos.

a press photo shows the young man with purple hair and a snapback and a chain, smirking mid-performance.

“choi su-bong, or whose stage name was thanos, was a rising rapper in south korea,” the youtuber explains, “he had 320,000 instagram followers, 45,000 monthly spotify listeners. not huge, but solid for an underground rapper. he even took second place in ‘rap battlegrounds,’ a big tournament, though he fumbled the final against well-known rapper snakebanks by forgetting his lyrics.”

a clip plays of thanos on stage, stuttering, the crowd groaning.

“tough break,” the youtuber continues, “but what’s wilder is that thanos was a superfan of lee myunggi, our crypto guy from earlier. he claimed he watched every single video on myunggi’s ‘mg coin’ channel back during an interview with american broadcast worldstar TV in 2022.”

the screen shifts to thanos’s last instagram post, dated october 17, 2024: a grainy selfie in a studio, captioned “new heat droppin soon.”

then, nothing.

“after october 2024, he just… vanished,” the youtuber says, “no posts, no stories, no music. his own twin sister went public, saying no one’s heard from him since. not a trace.”

they lean into the camera, voice dropping.

“a rapper with a decent following, tied to another name on this iceberg, gone without a clue. what’s going on here?”

in reality: thanos entered the 37th annual squid games, hoping to win back the money he lost from investing in MGCoin's scheme. however, su-bong would come across myunggi inside of the games himself. after a tough rivalry, thanos faced death when myunggi's fork found thano's tattooed throat. he died never being able to accomplish stardom.

the youtube video presses deeper into the iceberg. at this point, the video is one hour and thirty seven minutes in.

all of the narration in the video is mixed with unease as they navigate the third tier.

after choi su-bong, aka thanos, four more names flicker by. a disgraced politician last seen in a grainy airport photo, a famous twitch streamer who murdered her ex-boyfriend and ranaway, a famous chef who got exposed for stealing from clients, and a tech ceo whose startup imploded amid fraud allegations.

all gone, no answers.

the youtuber’s eyes narrow as the next name appears, lower still on the iceberg.

it’s yours,

y/n l/n.

a glamorous magazine cover flashes on-screen.

you in a high-fashion pose, eyes fierce and captivating.

“y/n l/n was america’s golden girl,” the youtuber says. “scouted at universal studios in florida back in 2019, she exploded as a model. vogue, elle, harper’s bazaar—you name it, she was on a cover. even people called her this generation’s adriana lima, if you know who she is.”

the screen shifts to a montage of your photoshoots.

you in couture gowns, strutting runways, dazzling under spotlights.

“she was everywhere, with 1,700,000 instagram followers and counting, even now.”

the tone of the youtuber darkens.

“then came the fall,” the youtuber says.

a screenshot of a 2022 tabloid headline screams about a sex scandal involving you in south korea.

“details are fuzzy, but it was enough to tank her career. cancel culture came hard...her modeling agency dropped her, and she was blacklisted from the industry. her last instagram post was in june 2022 shortly before the scandal took place.”

the post appears: you in a simple selfie, smiling faintly, captioned “good luck and goodbye.”

the youtuber leans in.

“the thing is that fans still kept spotting her around south korea—cafes, streets, even a subway station right up until october 2024. then, nothing. she’s gone, just like everyone else before her."

they pause, letting the weight settle.

“what’s wild is her instagram. no new posts, but her follower count keeps climbing and no one in her past life... family, friends, fans...knows where she is. this might be the most tragic case on our iceberg yet.” the youtuber’s voice softens, “a superstar, erased.”

in reality what the youtuber doesn’t know, what no one knows, is the truth behind your vanishing.

you were drowning in debt, eight billion won, roughly five million usd, from a lifestyle you couldn’t sustain.

the glitz of your modeling days with private jets, designer clothes, and penthouse parties had bled you dry.

unfortunately, the final blow came when you were staying in south korea. a leaked sex tape with your ex, namgyu, a south korean club promotor, got sent to every big news blog in the world.

luckily, it wasn't namgyu who leaked it. you know who did it, but still...

the scandal was merciless.

cancel culture tore you apart, your agency dropped you, and the industry shut its doors.

you stayed in south korea, since you were too ashamed to go home to your family. this was a chance to escape the spotlight, but the debt followed.

desperate, you entered the squid game.

in that brutal week you were a ghost of your former self, recognized by other players who’d grown up seeing your face on magazine covers and tv commercials.

they whispered, shocked: what was a girl like you doing here?

unfortunately, your story wasn’t a secret to them.

the scandal had been global news.

worse, namgyu was in the games too.

you crossed paths in the games and you hated it. the guy's face was a reminder of the betrayal that ruined you. he was close with thanos, and you hated how they flirted with you and pretend like nothing ever happened.

that’s how thanos knew you...not personally, but through namgyu’s stories and admiration for you.

myunggi, meanwhile, was a stranger to you.

you died in the jump rope game.

you froze, terror gripping you as the timer ticked down.

you couldn’t move, couldn’t even try to move forward and jump.

after the timer went off, you were still in the beginning edge.

a guard took one look at your terrified figure before a shot rang out.

you fell, your star snuffed out on a cold, concrete floor.

a burnt-out supernova, you deserved better.

a chance to rebuild, and to be redeemed.

unfortunately, the world would never hear from you again.

thanos and myunggi met their own ends in the games, their fates as hidden as yours.

their disappearances, like yours, remain mysteries.

someday, your disappearance might go deeper on the iceberg.

the youtuber’s voice speaks after the last name on the bottom of the iceberg.

"that's the video for today folks. let me know which video you want me to make next. peace."

masterlist

author's note: this is how I imagined the placements with the iceberg for this story: