Pep Telling Trent To Join The Academy Group Photo 😭❤️

pep telling trent to join the academy group photo 😭❤️

Love at first sight. / Squid Games!Men

summary; a little prompt for each men in squid game x reader.

also my english isn't my first language so i do apologize for a few errors! enjoys x

including; in-ho, thanos, myung-gi, dae-ho & gi-hun

In-ho:

Praise yourself for catching In-ho’s attention amidst the chaos of the games. Not only did he manage to maintain his composure, but he also came to terms with the truth—it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him, but his heart betraying him. He had been ensnared in a dangerous blend of love and death. And no matter the cost, he was determined to ensure your survival, even if it meant faking your death and arranging for the guards to escort you to his shelter.

At first, his actions were subtle—a few fleeting glances, quiet assurances that you weren’t alone. He took it upon himself to ensure someone capable stood between you and danger. This resolve led him to seek out Gi-hun, cornering him with a whispered plea. “I’m not asking for much,” In-ho murmured, his voice low and firm. Gi-hun’s brows knit together as he glanced at you, understanding little of the request but sensing its weight. Though the urge to question why In-ho couldn’t protect you himself lingered, Gi-hun ultimately accepted—he, too, had his own plans to carry out.

Yet, watching Gi-hun hover near you ignited something unexpected in In-ho—a simmering, unanticipated jealousy. His blood boiled harder than he cared to admit.

It was Gi-hun’s proximity to you that set him on edge.

While 001 had extended a friendly hand, In-ho never anticipated him stealing you away entirely. The realization unsettled him, and during the chaos of the Carousel games, panic began to creep in. When he noticed you were nowhere to be found in the room, it nearly consumed him. The thought of losing you made his fists clench, and for a brief, irrational moment, he contemplated throwing a punch at Gi-hun. But it wasn’t until the final elimination, when the doors unlocked, that relief washed over him. There you were—your silhouette unmistakable behind Dae-ho.

In that instant, he didn’t hesitate. Rushing toward you, his breath hitched, words failing him. A shaky exhale escaped his lips, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming relief. He almost laughed—a scoff of incredulity—before pulling you close, his hand instinctively cradling the back of your head. Without a second thought, he leaned in, his lips pressing a firm but tender kiss to your forehead.

“Silly,” he muttered, his voice tight with emotion. “I never should’ve trusted Gi-hun to keep you safe. Damn it, I thought I’d lost you.” The panic in his voice caught you off guard, the weight of his words sinking in. You hadn’t expected such raw vulnerability from him—not now, not like this. A soft chuckle escaped you, an attempt to lighten the moment. “It’s okay,” you reassured him gently. “Dae-ho found me right away and made sure I was safe.”

That revelation gave In-ho pause, but he filed it away for later. For now, none of it mattered. You were alive and unharmed, and that was everything.

The kiss on your forehead wasn’t just a gesture of relief—it was a silent declaration. You were his, and no one—not Gi-hun, not Dae-ho, not anyone—would ever take you from him again.

Thanos:

Once a retired rapper, Thanos now found himself thrust into a life-and-death struggle. Among his generation, it was no surprise that some idolized him—his presence commanding a respect so intense, it bordered on worship. To them, he was pristine, untouchable. But this adoration didn’t sit well with everyone, especially loners like you, who preferred to navigate the chaos without attachments.

Ironically, that aloofness was one of the many reasons Thanos found himself drawn to you.

In the early days on the island, Thanos made no effort to reveal his interest. If anything, he mirrored your indifference, matching your cold detachment with his own. But when you began spending time with Myung-gi, the dynamic shifted. Thanos hadn’t expected it, nor did he like it. Watching you bond with someone else left a bitter taste in his mouth, awakening a tension he couldn’t ignore. The loner mindset had been his strategy for survival—a simple equation: fewer people, fewer complications. But your presence complicated everything, especially when it came to your effortlessly beautiful face, which he found himself stealing glances at far too often.

It didn’t take long for his resolve to crack.

Thanos had made himself a promise: to keep his distance, to ignore you as you ignored him. But that promise shattered the moment Nam-Gyu let slip a confession Thanos had sworn him to secrecy about. That little fucker, Thanos thought bitterly, though his anger was tempered by necessity—he needed Nam-Gyu to survive. Yet, when the truth reached you, it unraveled him in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

Instead of drawing you closer, the revelation pushed you further away. Your avoidance became more deliberate, more pronounced than ever before. It stung more than Thanos cared to admit. For the first time in a long time, he was unprepared—for your reaction, for the way it tightened a knot of frustration and longing deep inside him.

Which only added more tension between the two of you.

The final games loomed, a trial where survival would demand more than just cunning—it called for a kind of ruthless cleansing. Thanos knew, without hesitation, that when the moment came, he’d be the first to grab your hand and shield you. Even if it meant overreacting, even if it jeopardized his own chances, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Certainly not to Myung-gi, if it came down to that.

“You know...” he murmured late that night, his voice low and almost hesitant. Your back was turned to him, your body stiff on the thin mattress. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, couldn’t even steal a glance. Not after everything. The weight of his breath lingered against the back of your neck, and you flinched slightly, betraying your nerves. His presence, so close and unyielding, was suffocating yet magnetic.

“Tomorrow is... big,” he continued, his words faltering as his gaze shifted across the dimly lit dormitory. For a moment, his eyes locked on Player 333, who sat sharpening a weapon in the corner—a stark reminder of the danger waiting ahead. Thanos clenched his jaw, then turned his focus back to you.

“If we’re not careful...” he trailed off, his voice softening, almost breaking. “Who knows if I’ll ever get to see your beautiful face again?”He exhaled sharply, frustrated with himself, as if admitting even that much was a risk. “I know it’s—”

Your head snapped toward him, your brows furrowing into a glare sharp enough to cut through the tension between you. For a moment, silence hung in the air, charged and heavy. Then, your voice broke it, calm yet biting. “If you keep this up, you might be the one ending up with a bullet in the face,” you said, your tone so nonchalant it bordered on cute—a contrast that left Thanos momentarily stunned. He blinked, almost scoffing in disbelief, one hand pressing dramatically against his chest.

“Ouch,” he drawled, his lips curling into a grin. “I’m hurt, sweetheart.”

Your eyes narrowed into daggers. “Do. Not. Call me sweetheart.”

Before you could say more, Nam-Gyu chimed in from his corner, a mischievous smirk playing on his face. “I bet she’s in love,” he teased, his words practically dripping with mockery.

Thanos’s cocky grin widened at that, his eyes gleaming with a maddening mix of pride and amusement. The sheer arrogance in his expression made your fingers twitch, itching to slap that smug look right off his face. But instead, you gave him one final glare—a death wish in your eyes, though to Thanos, it looked like the beginning of a love story.

“I bet she is,” he echoed, his voice soft but certain, the words carrying a weight of truth that made your chest tighten. He didn’t try to stop you as you turned and walked away, but his gaze lingered, following every step you took. Oh, how you had him wrapped around your finger without even realizing it. A wimp for you, and you alone.

Myung-gi:

Everyone knew who Player 333 was—you included. Unlike many in this room who were desperate to claw their way out of debt, you knew Myung-gi only by name. You’d heard the rumors: how he’d gotten his girlfriend pregnant, how his past was littered with mistakes and secrets. But something in you—a stubborn spark of hope, perhaps—whispered that he wasn’t as bad as everyone wanted him to be. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than the stories let on.

Myung-gi had noticed you, though. He’d seen the way you were with Jun-hee—the way your smile seemed to ease her fears, how your arms would wrap gently around her petite frame after every game, grounding her, giving her the space to breathe. The quiet strength and warmth you brought to her felt almost unreal, a motherly presence in a place devoid of comfort.

It was that tenderness, that undeniable light, that struck him like a blow to the chest.

Myung-gi was in love.

And he hated every single moment of it.

Why? Because he knew himself. He knew what he’d done to Jun-hee—how he’d left her while she was pregnant with his child, drowning in debt and fear. He’d been a coward, an asshole, and he knew it. That self-loathing festered, a constant reminder of his failures. And yet, it was exactly why he didn’t expect you to see him as anything other than the man he despised.

But fate had other plans.

Your first real interaction with him came after he saved you—something neither of you had anticipated.

It happened during the Bathroom games, where survival left no room for personal grudges. Confronting Thanos wasn’t at the forefront of Myung-gi’s mind, but then he heard it—your name, slipping from Thanos’s lips with such filth that it ignited a rage Myung-gi didn’t know he was capable of.

Everyone knew your past as an escort within the crypto community. Your name wasn’t hard to find, whispered in private conversations and occasionally tied to scandalous wallets. But Myung-gi knew better than to judge. Still, hearing Thanos—the retired rapper—speak of you like that, as though you were nothing more than a commodity, was the last straw.

“She was good for a foreigner. Not many—”

That was as far as Thanos got before Myung-gi’s fist collided with his jaw, cutting him off mid-sentence. The sickening crack of impact echoed through the grimy bathroom, followed by a faint splatter of blood. Myung-gi emerged from the stall alive but seething, his knuckles raw and his breath ragged. As he stepped out, his gaze immediately locked with yours. Jun-hee stood beside you, clinging to your arm for reassurance, but the look on your face was unreadable—a mix of surprise, understanding, and something softer.

A small, almost imperceptible smile crept across Myung-gi’s lips.

In that moment, he made a silent promise: no matter what it took, he’d make sure both of you got out of this alive.

Dae-ho:

Dae-ho never believed in love at first sight. With everything he’d endured in his life—the trials, the sacrifices, the relentless pursuit of strength—he saw himself as a knight in shining armor, bound by duty but never destined for romance. That belief held firm until he met you.

It happened during the Carousel game. Like In-ho, he’d noticed you before—your stoic demeanor during Green Light, Red Light had left him quietly impressed. The way you moved, swift yet calculated, managing to evade the statue’s unrelenting gaze with precision, was nothing short of remarkable. It was then that something shifted in him. Against all reason, Dae-ho found himself believing in love at first sight.

At first, he thought he was imagining it. He even considered pinching himself, blinking twice to dispel the notion. But the feeling persisted, undeniable and maddening. It wasn’t until later, when you tended to his wounds after one of the brutal games, that he finally saw you up close—and the full weight of your beauty struck him like a blow. Your lashes fluttered delicately as you focused on your task, your fingers gentle but firm as you dabbed rubbing alcohol onto his injuries. He hissed at the sting, his lips parting in a soft groan of pain.

“Be still, please,” you murmured, your tone calm but commanding. Something about the way you said it—the quiet strength in your voice—silenced his protests. He nodded, his muscles relaxing under your care, though the tension in his chest was harder to soothe.

For the first time, Dae-ho felt vulnerable—not because of his wounds, but because of you.

“You know…” His voice was low, almost hesitant, but there was a softness to it that made you pause. You could’ve sworn his lips curved into the faintest smile. “I never would’ve thought I’d see you like this—healing me. Back at the Carousel, I swore to myself I’d keep you close, that we’d find the door as quickly as anyone else. But then… the next thing I knew, Thanos had taken you before I could…”

He trailed off, his words tinged with shame. The vulnerability in his voice made you glance up at him, your fingers stilling as you finished securing the bandage. His eyes widened at your sudden attention, and he immediately began to stammer.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

You interrupted him with a soft sigh, sliding the remaining bandage back into your pocket. “Don’t apologize. We just weren’t lucky, that’s all. I wanted to prove to myself that I could handle it—that I wasn’t just someone who had to count on others.” Your gaze softened as you added, almost reluctantly, “But… I have to admit, not having you there in that room—it was horrible.”

Your quiet confession was enough to undo him. Without a word, Dae-ho wrapped his arms around you, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at his wounds. Still, he didn’t let go. His embrace was warm, protective, and when he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, it felt like a promise.

“Nevertheless,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet reassurance, “I’m just glad we made it through. That you’re here with me.” His lips quirked into a small grin as he added, with a teasing lilt, “And that I get to cuddle with you for another night.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, the tension between you easing for a moment. For now, at least, you both had each other.

Gi-hun:

Unlike the others, you weren’t a player. But you knew Gi-hun from the previous game he was in. He was so certain you had died right in front of his eyes back then that when he saw the mask ripped off your face—revealing you as one of the Guards—his shock was palpable. Another Guard had been taken hostage by the remaining candidates, and though you could have cursed every word that came to mind, you found yourself frozen, your voice stolen by the chaos.

In-ho was the first to recognize you. He knew you were on shift at this hour, but what he hadn’t expected was the look of sheer horror that crossed Gi-hun’s face when your name escaped his lips.

“Y/N...?” Gi-hun’s voice trembled, disbelief heavy in the air as though he was trying to confirm he wasn’t dreaming.

“You know them?” one of the players sneered, their stolen gun now aimed squarely at Gi-hun. Bodies of your co-workers—faces you barely had time to register—lay scattered across the floor, lifeless, just feet away. The metallic tang of blood filled the air.

But this time, Gi-hun wasn’t about to let anyone lay a finger on you. He remembered the vow you both had made:

"We belong to each other. And I will get you home."

With those words etched into his resolve, Gi-hun made his move. Chaos erupted as the gun exchanged hands, bullets flying. The air was filled with deafening roars of defiance and the sickening splatter of blood.

In the end, In-ho stood back, his heart cold and unyielding, as he watched Gi-hun fall. The final shot rang out, and his lifeless body crumpled to the ground. Blood speckled your cheek, and you stared in stunned silence at the empty shell of a man you had once loved.

From the shadows, a familiar voice cut through the carnage, low and mocking.

“Welcome back home, love.”

You turned toward the source, and there he was Gi-hun—his gruesome smile sending chills down your spine.

4K notes View Post

l5byrinth

4 months ago

DOES ANYONE ON THIS APP WRITE FOR HWANG JUN HO AND ALSO TAKE REQUESTS CUS BOY I WANNA READ FICS ABOUT HIM . Sorry for yelling.

***OR please tag me in pre existing Jun Ho fics. I am desperate for anything

25 notes View Post

l5byrinth

2 years ago

realest thing I’ve ever read on tiktok 🫠

Unspoken

Pairing: Thanos (Choi Su-Bong) x Reader

Summary: Su-Bong's back like nothing happened, is he here to stay?

Warnings: Brief mentions of drug use

Word Count: 2,121

Comments: Hey all! Just a quick question for anyone that reads this bit, in future parts would anyone care if I potentially changed Thanos/Su-Bong's hair colour? 👀

<- Part 5

The morning after your nightmare you’d woken to the faint rustle of movement in the next room. You moved quietly across your bedroom and peered around the doorway. Su-Bong was still there.

You watched him sitting on the edge of your couch, rolling a cigarette. The paper crinkled between his fingers as a few bits of loose tobacco fell out onto his jeans. His head was tilted down, keeping all his attention on the task at hand.

You had expected him to be gone, you didn’t dare move in case this was some illusion your brain had conjured to comfort you. You simply stood in the doorway, eyes wide as you watched him.

Sensing your presence he asked, ‘sleep better?’ He didn’t take his attention away from the cigarette in his hands.

You shifted slightly, wondering how long he’d known you were stood there. ‘Urm, yeah,’ you replied, voice still laced with sleep. ‘Thank you for staying.’

He shrugged, finishing the roll up and sliding it behind his ear. ‘It’s nothing.’

But it wasn’t ‘nothing’.

The air between you was thick. Somewhere between tension and something softer. Like the aftermath of a storm that hadn’t fully passed. He still hadn’t looked at you, now opting to watch his own fingers tap absently against his knee.

You glanced at the clock on your wall and sighed. ‘I’ve got work soon, I should get ready.’

‘Kay,’ he said, stretching slightly before finally looking at you. ‘I’ll walk you there.’

Your eyes met for a brief moment, sending a shiver through you. His expression remained calm, but you could see he was still cautious, like he wasn’t completely sure where you two stood with each other anymore. Before you could read into it anymore, he looked away again, brushing the stray tobacco from his jeans.

You paused for a moment before turning back into your room and shutting the door behind you. As you pulled on your work clothes you felt overly aware of Su-Bong’s presence in the next room. He’d never stayed the night before, it felt strangely domestic, too normal given everything that had recently happened.

By the time you stepped out ready to go, Su-bong was already standing and pulling on his hoodie. Without a word the two of you headed for your apartment door.

The walk to your work was quiet, neither of you spoke yet his presence was impossible to ignore. Every so often your arm would brush against his, you weren’t sure if it was intentional or just the way your steps fell naturally in sync.

You stole a quick glance at him, he seemed relaxed but there was something distant about the way his eyes flickered between the pavement and the street ahead.

It felt eerily similar to the last time he had walked you home. The same silence and internal struggle in your mind about whether you should say something. Though this time you had a feeling he was going through the same thing

As you neared the cafe Su-Bong asked ‘What time you finishing?’

‘Uh, I’ll be done at 5,’ you replied.

He gave a small nod but didn’t say anything else. His footsteps slowed as you approached the door. You turned to him, and there was that feeling again, the unspoken tension that darted between you.

You watched as he pulled his hoodie up, giving you a small tilt of his chin as a goodbye before turning and walking off down the street. You caught yourself watching him go, the unease spreading across your chest.

As you pushed the door to the cafe open you were surprised to find your boss already stood watching you walk in. She gave you that same knowing look as she crossed her arms.

‘He’s walking you to work now as well?’ A teasing edge in her voice that you couldn’t help but smile at.

‘It’s nothing,’ you said as you pulled off your coat. ‘He stayed on the couch last night.’

‘Mmhmm,’ she hummed.

You busied yourself tying your apron, trying to ignore the way your heart still felt unsteady from the morning.

‘Well whatever's going on there, I’m sure you two will figure it out soon.’ Your boss said before she turned and went back to the counter.

You hoped she was right, but more than anything you hoped that Su-Bong wasn’t going to just disappear from your life again.

Yet another one of your shifts was spent wondering about Su-Bong, it was becoming a habit now.

Take an order, check your phone, serve some cake, check the clock, steam some milk, check outside.

By the time your shift neared its end, rain had begun to fall outside. You watched it streak down the windows, washing away the last of your hope. He wasn’t gonna show up in this weather.

Accepting that, you slipped into the back to grab your things. As you slung your bag over your shoulder you heard your boss’s voice from the front of the cafe.

‘Oh for goodness sake, you’ll be soaked through, come inside before you catch a cold.’ You smiled, it was no surprise hearing her fussing over someone like that, what did surprise you was what she said next.

‘You can just wait for her in here.’

Your breath caught. He was here, he hadn’t disappeared again. You quickly moved back into the cafe. And there he was. Su-Bong was stood near the entrance, his hair sticking down from the rain.

You had to stifle a laugh at the sight of him standing stiffly, not knowing what to do with himself as your boss fussed over him, brushing droplets from his shoulders. She turned and reached for one of the umbrellas she kept by the door and thrust it towards him.

You lingered for a moment, watching the amusing scene unfold - him standing in a place that didn’t quite suit him being doted on like a stray someone had taken pity on.

Like he knew you were watching him, he looked up. Your eyes met, and you felt that same shiver from the morning. You didn’t have time to dwell on it as your boss was ushering you forward.

‘Here,’ she gestured to the umbrella as you approached. ‘You two can share so you don’t get wet.’

You smiled and thanked her before turning back to Su-Bong. He was scratching the back of his head, still looking vaguely uncomfortable.

‘You ready to go?’ He asked.

‘Yeah,’ you stepped forward as he began to push the door open.

He headed out before you, opening the umbrella so you could step out under it too.

The rain drummed against the umbrella, as the two of you began walking. You tried to not let your thoughts dwell on how close you were, how you could feel his warmth or how you could smell the faint scent of smoke that clung to his jacket.

‘She like your mum or something?’ Su-Bong asked, nodding back toward the cafe.

You couldn’t help but laugh, ‘no she’s not my mum, she’s just like that with everyone.’

Su-Bong laughed too. ‘Could’ve fooled me, if we stayed any longer she’d be giving me a packed lunch and getting me to tuck my shirt in.’

You grinned, this was easy, this is how you two were supposed to be. The lighthearted conversation drifted between you, an easy back and forth that came naturally to the two of you. You talked about your day, a weird customer who insisted on paying in loose change, and about how your boss has been trying to convince you to take up knitting.

Su-Bong hummed in amusement. ‘She’s probably already knitting me a scarf.’

As your apartment building came into sight the conversation tapered off. The air between you was completely different from that morning, the tension was gone leaving you with the familiar comfort he usually brought.

‘You wanna get takeout señorita?’ And there it was. That nickname again, the one you hadn’t heard in nearly a week at this point. The one that had you forgetting everything that happened.

A grin tugged at your lips as you pushed open the door. ‘Yeah I’d like that, but you’re paying.’

Things between you and Su-Bong settled into a new normal. There was still that unspoken cloud hanging over you both, but neither of you acknowledged it. Opting to choose the easy route.

He never said anything about the four days of silence, never explained why he chose to answer you in the middle of the night and you never asked. But in his own way, it seemed like he was trying to make up for it.

You’d catch him clearing the dishes after dinner, or replacing the flickering bulb in your lamp without a word. If you dropped something, he was bending down to get it before it even hit the floor. He even attempted to fix your wobbley coffee table, he did a pretty good job even if he managed to leave it with a slight lean.

He never made a big deal out of any of it, never tried to get a thanks out of you. But you understood, this was his way of apologising. And, for now, that was enough.

Although every time he did something it became harder and harder to ignore the growing warmth in your chest. It was the way he did them, casually, like it was the simplest thing in the world. It was getting harder to pretend your feelings weren’t shifting, harder to ignore the way you found yourself looking at him when he wasn’t paying attention, harder to push down the thought that maybe he felt it too.

But then you’d remember that night.

The dazed, half lidded way he’d looked at you. How you’d wanted to give in to him, to let him pull you close. You kept telling yourself he hadn’t meant it, that it was just the high talking. Yet, you couldn’t quite shake the hope that it had come from somewhere real.

So you never said anything, letting that warmth settle in your chest without giving it a name. Because if you asked, if you pushed, he might disappear again. And you weren’t ready for that.

One evening whilst he was sprawled out across your couch as you watched TV, he said something that made your heart lift.

‘I’ve written some new songs recently,’ he said offhandedly like he expected you to brush past it.

You perked up at his words, he never spoke about his music career. For a split second all you could do was look at him. You’d heard what people had said in the games about him. How his career had started to slip, how he was forgetting the lyrics to his own songs. You’d never mentioned it, not sure if it was something he’d want to go back to.

‘Wait, really?’ You managed to say as you shifted towards him.

He kept his eyes on the TV but nodded. ‘Yeah, got a gig in a couple of days. Nothing big though.’

Your chest tightened, because you knew it was a big deal even if he was acting like it wasn’t, he was trying again. ‘Su-Bong, that's amazing!’

He shrugged but you caught the smile tugging at his lips. ‘It’s just a little set, nothing like what I used to do, need something to get me started again you know?’

‘I’m sure the world is ready to hear some new Thanos material,’ you wiggled your eyebrows at him.

Su-Bong didn’t laugh, his expression shifted subtly, but still enough for you to notice. He exhaled slowly before his eyes flickered to you.

‘I’m not using that name anymore,’ he said simply.

That caught you off guard, he was letting go of something so big, something that had defined him, and he was saying it like it was something so simple. ‘Seriously?’

‘Doesn’t feel right anymore,’ he gave a small shrug.

You nodded slowly, it made sense. Maybe this was his way of starting over properly, like he was getting rid of a piece that no longer fit. You could tell there was something else he wanted to say so you remained quiet, giving him the time to think it through.

‘Anyways, if you’re not busy you could come if you want?’ He cleared his throat, was he nervous? ‘It’s probably not your kinda scene but y’know, if you’re not busy you could.’

The way he danced through the words made your chest ache, he was really trying to act like this whole thing wasn’t important. But you could read between the lines - he wanted you there. And there was no way in hell you were gonna say no.

-> Part 7 Coming Soon Series Masterlist

Taglist: @andersonslove @fallout-girl219 @olasz-2003 @l5byrinth @hotdxdragon @cherrypied0lly @nicklet94 @learninglinesintherainn @tebteb @lotsa-juicy-shit @onecojg @the-iridescent-phoenix @red22wolf

104 notes View Post

l5byrinth

1 month ago

𝑭𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝑭𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕‧₊˚✧ . ˚

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

┈┈┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈┈┈

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

815 notes View Post

l5byrinth

1 year ago

Jude Bellingham x journalist!Reader. Drabble.

warning for language. no dialogue. jude is whipped.

Jude can feel blood rush in his veins, the gentle thrumming of his heart occupying his ears. Jesus, was it always this loud?

Cool. Calm. Collected. Weren't those the words that would always accompany his name? But God, right now he felt anything but.

Enamoured. Enraptured. Enchanted.

The waves of your sweet cadence of your voice washing over him, the tide so strong that it kept pulling Jude back into you. The dips in your pitch almost itching a scratch in Jude's brain that he didn't even know he had.

God he hopes he's hiding it well; pleads to some unknowing force that his face isn't plastered by the affairs of his heart.

You must be a new hire because he has never seen you before. Or at least he doesn't recall seeing you before. Yeah right, he almost scoffs to himself, like he could ever forget a face like yours; so bright and warm. Was the light fucking bending in your presence to you?

The soft curl of your lips has Jude in a daze. He wonders if they taste sweet, wonders if you taste sweet, almost sickengly like your perfume; peach and hints of vanilla. Sinful.

The pause in your voice snaps him out of his reverie. Your eyes were wide, eyebrows turned up expectantly, the microphone clutched in your grip was now turned towards him. Shit. You had asked him a question. What did you ask? Think Jude, think. Something about his goal tonight? How beautiful it was and if he had any comments on it?

He wanted to laugh. Beautiful? What did he know about beauty when he had only now met you? Jude felt like an inadequate apprentice, yearning to be under your tutelage so you could teach him. What business did a blind man have in describing a starry sky?

Jude licked his lips. He didn't want to disappoint you. So he spoke, stringing together words as best he could, not even sure what he was saying. You were smiling now, eyes crinkling near your edges as he spoke. Fucking angelic. You must have liked what he said, your light giggle almost sending him to heaven.

He wanted to hear it again, mind abuzz with how he could make that happen.

Jude felt himself be gently pushed. What was their problem? Couldn't they see he was busy? Dressing room, he heard someone mutter, almost paying no attention to those words. Everything else was so dull in comparison to you.

His feet were moving now despite his reluctance, eyes still stuck to the vision that you were, your shy wave of farewell clutching his heart in a death grip. Jude couldn't resist the smile that adorned his face, the sound of your giggle reverberating in his chest and echoing in his ears.

What had you just done to him?

457 notes View Post

l5byrinth

1 month ago

Just strong enough to love you

Ahn Su-ho x fem!reader

..................................................................................

The sky held that pale hue, somewhere between grey and blue, as if the sun hesitated to show itself that morning. A fine drizzle fell on the glistening sidewalks of Seoul, caressing passersby with a damp, almost soft breath. In this blurred light, two figures struggled at the end of an alley. Nothing new in this neighborhood. Another score settled, more high schoolers with more rage than future. And yet...

Y/N's camera captured everything.

She wasn't there for them. She was filming another shot, an urban life scene for an experimental montage. Y/N loved the textures of the city, the way sounds and movements overlapped like a chaotic symphony. But her lens had slipped for a moment. Just a moment. And in that fleeting instant, she had captured them: two boys. One frail, intelligent, calm like an inner storm. The other, a living fire, sure, quick, powerful blows. And that look...

Ahn Su-ho.

She hadn't deleted the video. Not because she was looking for trouble. She simply found the scene beautiful. An almost choreographed, rhythmic brutality, and above all, that silent tension between the two boys. A kind of raw loyalty. She had posted a short excerpt, blurring the faces. The video had gone viral. She didn't really understand why.

Two days later, he was there. In front of her high school. The rain was now just a memory. Su-ho, dressed in his slightly crumpled uniform, had his hands in his pockets, his gaze furious, his cheeks flushed from the cold or annoyance. She recognized him immediately.

"Is that you?" he asked. "Were you the one who filmed?"

His voice was deep, slightly hoarse. Not threatening. But there was a tension in his shoulders, as if he was holding himself back from exploding. Y/N, calm, looked at him for a long moment before answering.

"It's blurry. You can't see anyone clearly."

He sighed, ran a hand through his hair.

"That's not the problem. If someone recognizes Si-eun, he could get into trouble. And so could I. Delete it."

She shook her head.

"It's a work of art. I don't delete my works."

He stared at her, incredulous. His face tightened with annoyance.

"Seriously? You want to be an artist? This puts us in danger."

"I blurred the faces."

"You think that's enough?"

She shrugged. She wasn't provoking him. She was simply... sincere. Y/N never smiled without a reason. That day, she didn't smile. But she didn't lower her eyes either. And Su-ho noticed that.

It was Si-eun who solved the problem. As always. A week later, Su-ho told him about the scene.

"She won't delete it. That girl is stubborn."

Si-eun gave him a slow look, like an exasperated teacher.

"I'll ask her. I'm sure she'll say yes."

"And why would she say yes to you?"

"Because I didn't try to scare her."

Si-eun was right. Two days later, the video was offline. And Su-ho had no more excuses to think about her.

But he thought about her anyway.

He found her annoying. Absolutely frustrating. And, in a way, fascinating. She wasn't like the others. Not because she was mysterious or silent, but because she seemed to have an unwavering inner compass. She knew what she wanted. What she didn't want. And she wasn't going to bend to his demands, even though he could take down five guys without batting an eyelid.

It wasn't until Si-eun asked her, in a calm but firm tone, that she finally deleted the video. Without complaint. Without justification. Just a nod, and the clip disappeared from her phone as if it had never existed.

Su-ho should have moved on.

But he didn't.

He started to notice her. To watch for her passing. Sometimes, he lingered for no reason near her high school. Just... in case. And sometimes, he would run into her, and she would give him a neutral, almost bored look, but he felt his heart leap as if he had just run a marathon.

He didn't know what it was, that warmth in his chest, that need to see her, even for a second. He didn't understand why he smiled like an idiot when he thought about her calm demeanor, her composed voice. Y/N soothed him as much as she annoyed him.

A ball of energy, Su-ho. Always ready to fight to defend, to protect. But in front of her, he became clumsy. He would flirt sometimes, to mask what he didn't yet understand. And she... she didn't laugh at his jokes. But she listened to him. And that was worse. It touched him more than any forced laughter.

Then there was that night at the restaurant. He worked sometimes after school. He loved that little job. Serving, joking with customers, feeling the warmth of the kitchen, hearing the clatter of dishes and conversations. It was alive. Like him.

And she was there.

Sitting alone, a notebook in front of her. She was drawing, or taking notes, he didn't know. He approached, his heart beating faster than usual.

"Are you lost? Or did you come to see the most handsome waiter in Seoul?"

She looked up. Her calm gaze pierced him like a blade.

"I came to eat."

He laughed. Really laughed. This girl had a knack for breaking his opening lines.

"In that case, you're in luck. My service is exceptional."

"I'll judge for myself."

She still wasn't smiling. But there was a spark in the depths of her eyes. As if she was slowly letting herself be contaminated by his light.

And that night, he knew. He knew. He was screwed.

In love.

Not with an idea. Not with a fantasy. With her. With her silences. With her rigor. With her way of being upright in a crooked world. He loved her like one loves a rare light. A star fallen in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and yet so bright that one cannot help but reach out.

He talked to Si-eun about it one night as they walked in silence after a tense confrontation.

"I think I'm in love," he said simply.

Si-eun raised an eyebrow.

"Y/N?"

Su-ho stared at him, mouth slightly open.

"You knew?"

"You shine when you talk about her."

Su-ho smiled faintly.

"She's... different."

"Stop. You already said that."

"Damn it. Okay... Do you think it's possible? To love someone like that? For no reason? Just because when I think about her, I feel like everything else gets lighter?"

Si-eun, who wasn't one for giving advice, replied in a calm tone:

"I think that's the best reason."

And Su-ho began to dream. Not of fairy tales. Just of simple moments. Of sharing. Of seeing her smile. A real smile. He didn't care if he was "good enough" for her. Those kinds of thoughts sometimes gnawed at him, especially when he saw himself as a fighting, impulsive, rough boy. But there was an immense tenderness within him. A capacity to love without measure. And that tenderness, Y/N deserved it.

He didn't want to save her. She didn't need saving.

He just wanted to... walk beside her.

And he hoped, more than anything, that one day she would let him.

---

The next day, it rained again. Not the same soft drizzle as at the beginning of their story, no. This time, it was a more distinct rain, almost vibrant, as if the sky shared a certain nervousness.

Y/N had stopped under the high school awning, nervously rummaging through her bag. She knew it. Her notebook wasn't there anymore. And she wasn't stupid—she knew exactly where she had forgotten it. On that small restaurant table, half-hidden under her coat.

And above all, she knew who had found it.

When Su-ho arrived, soaked despite his hood, he spotted her right away. He had that look, a little playful, a little too bright. He approached silently, slipped his hand into his backpack, and pulled out the black notebook, one corner slightly dog-eared.

"I believe you left something," he said, his voice calm but his gaze filled with a mocking gleam.

She snatched the notebook, a little too quickly, as if she wanted to shield it from his eyes. But it was too late. He had seen it. And not just seen it. He had read it.

"Page 17," he murmured, feigning distraction. "Nice drawing. I'm even more handsome in a drawing than in real life, don't you think?"

She froze, her fingers clenched on the cover. She looked up at him. That look. Always the same. Calm. Cold, for some. But Su-ho knew. She was boiling inside.

"You read it," she said simply. It wasn't a question.

He shrugged, looking a little guilty but mostly, sincerely moved.

"Just a little. By accident. Well... page 17, then 18... 19... I got a little carried away."

A silence. Then he continued, taking a folded piece of paper from the notebook's cover.

"I added something. I hope you don't mind. It's at the end."

She opened it. Slowly. And there, on the last page, was a drawing of her. Clumsy, clearly not done by a hand used to art. But touching. There she was, head down, focused, with that little crease between her eyebrows she made when she was thinking.

And below it, he had written, in slightly shaky handwriting:

"I think I like her too... maybe even a little too much. And given the masterpiece she made of me, I think we're meant to be a team."

She closed the notebook. Slowly. Her heart was beating too fast. He saw it, she knew it. He read her. And strangely, she didn't want to run away this time.

"A team, huh?" she said finally, without any apparent emotion.

"A dream team," he replied with a wink. "You film, I punch. You draw, I model. You create silences, I fill them with nonsense."

And for the first time since he had known her, she smiled. Not a half-smile. A real one. Slight. Shy. But there.

Su-ho looked surprised. Then, slowly, he smiled too. Not his usual superficial smile. Not his smile to deflect. A real one.

"You see, you're even more beautiful when you smile," he whispered.

She rolled her eyes, feigning exasperation.

"And you're even more unbearable when you start."

He laughed. Then, gently, he held out his hand.

"Walk together? Just for a bit?"

She hesitated. Just for a second.

And then, she slipped her fingers into his.

"A bit, then."