Pairing: Frontman/Hwang In-Ho x Pregnant!Wife!Reader
Summary: You give in to your late-night pregnancy cravings and slip out quietly, leaving your husband, Hwang In-ho, to wake up in a frenzy when he finds you missing.
Warnings: Angst, Fear of losing someone, grief, pregnancy, cravings, gun, slight fluff, soft-Inho.
Late into the night, you stretch quietly in bed, your mind drifting through sleepy fog and growing sharper with an insistent craving. Turning to your side, you see your husband, Hwang In-ho, sleeping peacefully beside you. The chill of the night air sends shivers down your spine, but the thought of satisfying your craving warms you with determination. The clock reads 2:47 AM.
Knowing how hard In-ho has been working and how much rest he needs, you decide to slip out discreetly, believing you can make it back before he even notices. You pull on a warm coat, gather your essentials, and tiptoe out the door, careful to close it softly behind you.
Hours seem to pass in what feels like minutes. In-ho stirs awake, reaching out to find your side of the bed cold and empty. He blinks groggily, thinking you might be in another room. "Y/N?" he calls softly, expecting a quick reply or the distant hum of your voice.
When no response comes, he rises slowly, the initial calm giving way to a creeping unease. He checks the adjoining bathroom, then the kitchen, and each empty room sends another pang of worry coursing through him. The house feels eerily quiet, and with each step, the calm facade he tried to maintain begins to crack.
As he makes his way through the silent hallways and finds no sign of you anywhere, panic floods through him instantly. Memories of losing his first wife surge into his mind, and the dread of facing the same heart-wrenching loss with you engulfs him like a tidal wave.
Terror grips his chest as he moves more frantically now. "Yeobo?" he calls out again, his voice slicing through the silence like a knife, but only the echo of his own voice answers him back. His heart races uncontrollably as he grabs his phone, his hands shaking with a mix of fear and urgency.
"I can't find my wife," he says, his voice quivering as he speaks to his guards. "Search the building immediately," he commands, his tone rigid and leaving no room for delay. The icy fingers of fear grip his heart, the stakes now higher than ever with the thought of losing you and the baby—his entire world teetering on the brink of uncertainty.
As he listens to the hurried replies of his guards springing into action, he pulls open the drawer beside his bed and grabs his gun, the cold weight of the metal feeling reassuring in his hand. The transformation is swift—his usual calm demeanor gives way to the steely resolve of the Front Man.
He methodically sweeps through the apartment, each shadow and creak heightening his anxiety. Has something sinister befallen you? Could Gi-hun, that determined Player 456, have somehow found you? The uncertainty gnaws at him, each tick of the clock echoing louder in the eerily quiet apartment. His thoughts race wildly, the sense of impending dread building with each passing second.
Just as his mind threatens to overwhelm him, the soft click of the door breaks the silence. He pivots sharply, raising his gun, only to freeze as you step back inside with a small stack of snacks and an apologetic smile. The weight of the moment crashes over him, the relief almost too much to bear.
"In-ho," you start, but the torrent of emotions inside him is already surging to the surface. He lowers the gun, his hands trembling.
"Where were you?" His voice is a mix of anger, relief, and lingering fear. He steps forward, his eyes scanning you from head to toe, ensuring you're really there and unharmed.
"I... I couldn’t sleep," you say softly, holding up the snacks as a peace offering. "I thought some comfort food might help. I’m sorry if I worried you."
He releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, the tension in his shoulders slowly fading. He pulls you into a fierce embrace, holding you as if you might disappear if he let go. The feel of you, warm and real in his arms, does more to calm his racing heart than anything else.
"I thought..." his voice breaks, unable to finish the sentence. The memories of his first loss are still too raw, the pain too fresh.
You pull back slightly and cup his face in your hands, your eyes filled with understanding and love. "I'm here. I’m not going anywhere," you reassure him, gently stroking his cheek.
He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. When he opens them, there's a new resolve mirrored in their depths. "Next time, wake me," he pleads softly. "I can't... I won't lose you and the baby. You both mean everything to me."
You nod, your heart aching for the pain he’s been through. "I promise," you whisper, and he takes a deep breath, slowly finding his composure again.
With his arm protectively around you, he leads you back to the bedroom. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm, reassuring light on your path.
With measured steps, he walks over to the dresser and slides the gun back into the drawer, locking it firmly to ensure it’s secure. The sight of him putting the weapon away brings a greater sense of calm to both of you.
As you reach the bed, he gently guides you to sit on the edge before kneeling in front of you.
His eyes soften as he places his hands on your growing belly, the life inside a beacon of hope amidst his fears. He leans in, tenderly kissing your pregnant belly, a silent vow of protection and love to both you and the unborn child.
"We’re in this together," he murmurs, his lips lingering on your skin. You smile down at him, your hand resting on his head.
Under the covers, he keeps you close, one arm wrapped protectively around you, his hand resting gently on your stomach. The snacks are forgotten on the bedside table as sleep finally takes over, but this time, it’s a peaceful sleep, secure in the knowledge that you’re safe and by his side.
pairing: hwang inho/young-il/frontman x fem reader
part: 2/3 [finished]
warnings: large age gap (20 vs late 40s) angst. slow burn. slight infantilization. no use of y/n. codependency. obsession from both sides. unhealthy dynamics. plot with porn. fingering. oral fixation. brat tamer inho. sub!reader. reader is very touch starved. a little yandere vibes. emotional manipulation. i made him very fatherly but toxic oops.
summary: he promised that you will make it out alive. he will make sure of it, no matter what it takes.
word count: 8k more or less
SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST
please ignore mistakes.
you can't remember half of it. everything happened so quickly— your little moment of bliss shattered by 388's quick warning. the lights went out. one moment you were in young-il's arms, the next he was dragging you down towards 456, who was hiding under another bed. he shifted to make room for you and you crawled to his side. young-il followed.
"stay quiet," 456 whispered, looking around. not much was visible in the dark, but soon enough, the loud noise of bottles shattering and people screaming began echoing through the hall.
"they're killing each other—" you whisper, eyes wide. you shift slightly, raising your head. you try to sit up. "they're killing our side of the people—"
young-il halted your movements with a hand on your arm, "don't move." he hissed. "we can't leave till the guards come in."
"what?" you snap, voice hushed, "if they kill all our people, what's gonna happen in the next vote? we'll lose!"
"there won't be a next vote," 456 added, flinching slightly at another sharp cry. he looked determined. "we're stopping this today."
you glanced at him, heartbroken. you looked out again, heartbeat picking up as you saw player 380 run away from nam-gyu. he was on her tail, visibly trying to kill her. a bottle lay there by the bed, and before young-il could stop you, you slid it out. nam-gyu tripped on it and fell on his face. luckily, it was too dark and he was too worked up to check who it was. you just hoped it gave player 380 enough time to hide.
young-il restrained you then, pushing you down slightly so you were fully sandwiched between him and 456, "don't compromise our position!"
"how much longer?" you whispered, ignoring him. you winced as more sounds of bones cracking and people choking on their own blood took over the entire room. neither of them answered, but even 456 jumped a little as the body of one of the girls on your side fell to the floor.
your eyes widened as the girl's eyes met yours, and then she sputtered out blood before laying there, lifeless.
"don't look." young-il voiced out, craning his neck down to meet your gaze. he clenched his jaw, settling you with a cold glare, "look at me."
"you should've told me this was the plan," you hissed through gritted teeth, squinting as the flashing of lights overwhelmed your senses, "would you be okay if that was m—mphh!"
he put a finger to your lips, shaking slightly as he gave you another warning glare. 456 watched with bated breath, as if counting all the people dying.
the lights go off again, and the room remains dark. only the noises of people fighting can be heard.
"time to move," 456 tells young-il, who nods and begins shifting out of the bed. you follow along, but he pushes you back in, "don't get out until i tell you."
"what?" you frown, confused. your words are quick, "you expect me to hide here while you go out there to do god knows what—
as you speak, young-il grits his teeth, frustrated. he's desperate as he grabs your shoulders. he glances back, makes sure no one sees before silencing you with a kiss. it leaves you breathless. he cups your face and looks into your eyes intensely, "don't get out until i tell you to." his voice is urgent, "close your eyes, put your hands to your ears. trust me, and listen to me for once."
you blink rapidly before nodding, still a little out of it. you don't think you'll ever get used to how good kissing him feels. you wish you could feel it again and again, under better circumstances.
456 hisses for young-il, and he pats your head before rushing away as soon as the doors open. the guards come in, rapidly firing their machine guns towards the ceiling, stopping the fight. you watch carefully, heart dropping to your stomach as young-il and 456 lay there, as if dead, along with 390 and 388. you almost rush out to check on them, but young-il's previous words hold you back. you watch as the guards start putting those devices to the dead bodies' ears, and when they reach your team members, 456 suddenly attacks. the rest of the team similarly manages to take their guns away, and kill the remaining guards. you almost jump out of your skin as a firing match starts— and young-il and player 120 skillfully kill most of them. you look on with bated breath, flinching as the guards fall to the floors. you begin to get out from under the bed, panting. one of the guards was still hiding, and he immediately aimed the gun at you. before you could move, young-il shoots him dead.
you look around the room, swallowing the lump in your throat at the sight of all the dead bodies. so many people with hopes and dreams. people with families, laying there, lifeless. cautiously, you looked around with purpose, before your eyes fell on player 380's body.
she couldn't hide.
you look away, sweat rolling down the side of your head. you clench your jaw and glare at the other team, eyes narrowing with resentment as you catch sight of nam-gyu. swallowing hard, you walk past the bodies, careful not to step on them. your eyes fell on your team members gathering the guards' weapons.
so this was the plan. you frown, rushing forward to help them. the guns are heavy, but you manage to place many of them along with some ammo on the bedsheet laying there.
456 announces the plan— something about capturing the ones who captured them all, and going to their headquarters to make them pay. you shift your gaze to young-il, who stares ahead blankly, as if thinking hard. you wonder if he's scared.
"anyone who knows how to use guns and wishes to join us—" 456 calls out, "please step forward!"
the players are silent, frozen. cowards, you think to yourself. you step forward immediately, and young-il's face hardens so dramatically, it almost makes you laugh. he takes a step towards you, "absolutely not!" he snaps, "stay right there."
"you need all the help you can get!" you argue back sharply. you point an accusatory finger at player 100 and his team. "don't you see? even these so called tough guys aren't willing to go with you! don't put your trust in these people, i can help more than they can! my aim's great!"
while you talk, young-il pinches the bridge of his nose, calls your name again gruffly. a warning.
"don't drag us into this!" player 100 interrupts angrily, his lip curling with disgust. "this is madness! you don't stand a chance against them!"
you quite literally snarl as you rush towards him, jabbing a finger to his chest. it makes him stumble backwards, "you had no issue with risking our lives and your own for money, but standing up to those who caught you is where you draw the line?" you glower at him, scoff at the rest of his team. to emphasize your point, you gather saliva in your mouth, spit it by his shoe. "fucking pussy !"
young-il quite literally snatches you away by the collar of your jacket before the other team can do anything. it's a little baffling how swiftly he moves, even while carrying such a big gun. he takes you to your side of the bunker, shoves you onto the bed, "don't make me tie you up." he grunts threateningly, "you are not going and that's final. you're built like a bird, you won't stand a chance against armed guards. i refuse to watch you get killed."
456 calls out for you, voice soft but urgent, "it's best if you stay here. we won't be able to focus if he's— if we're worried about you."
you grit your teeth as you scowl at young-il with glassy eyes. they're tears of anger. you want to scream at him. you want to pull him towards you and never let him go. you look at your team, watch with longing as player 120 guides them on how to use their guns. she's brave and badass, it makes you want to be like her.
"and you're okay with getting killed?" you drift your attention back to young-il, voice cracking. "what am i supposed to do if something happens to you?"
young-il sighs, gaze softening as he kneels before you . your lips wobble as you glare daggers at him, eyes narrowed. he shakes his head, "i'll come back to you alive."
you scoff bitterly. "how can you be so sure?"
"i just am."
"promise me." you hold your pinky up, clenching your jaw as you stare at him intensely, "promise me you won't die. promise me you'll come back for me."
he looks at your pinky, and then at you. you've always found him harder to read than other people. but you see reluctance in his eyes. he sighs, before raising his own pinky, joining it with yours. the contrast between your hands would've been comical if you were not in this shithole. he gives you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.
"i promise."
you can hear player 100 yelling at his team, clearly talking shit about you. you look over young-il's shoulder, and he glances at the old man too before turning to you knowingly.
"don't get in any trouble while i'm gone." he whispers softly. he reaches behind his back. "and just in case— i want you to have this."
it's a pistol. he probably took it from one of the dead guards. your eyes widen and you look at young-il. he teaches you how to unload it, and reload it, and how to work the safety, before placing it in your palm. your gaze never leaves his face. questioning.
"you've made enemies here," he explains, as if it's obvious, "if any of the men there try anything—"
"you want me to kill them?" you quirk an eyebrow.
his mouth curls into a smirk, "i want you to be safe."
he gets up, and as player 100 looks at you again, you jokingly aim the gun towards him. he jumps back in fear, stumbling into the younger men at his side. you chuckle, and young-il lowers your hand. "behave."
it makes your heart jump.
"why does that kid get a gun and we don't?!" one of the younger men yells. young-il ignores him.
you grin at him almost childishly. he shakes his head before addressing 149— the old lady who got here with her son.
"don't let her leave," he tells her, giving you a stern, sidelong glance. you roll your eyes.
before he can leave, you grab his hand and look at him intensely. you can only hope your eyes can convey what you can't verbally, not in front of people. for his sake.
"be careful." you decide to say, voice cracking. you memorize every feature of his face, with only one thought in your mind.
you're not allowed to leave me.
he nods, looking away before walking to his team. you yell at them too, telling them to be careful and watch as they carefully exit. you look on with longing as you watch them go, before glancing down at the gun in your hand, and then at the door again. soon enough, you can hear the faint sounds of guns firing. it makes you jump, but player 149 puts a hand on your shoulder, comfortingly guiding you to sit beside her.
you almost contemplate rushing out, what would these people even do? stop you? you have a gun in your hand, although you wouldn't want to pull it on 149. she's a good lady. people are already scared. you don't want to make it worse.
so you stay, and hope that young-il keeps his promise. pinky promises are sacred. you either keep them, or you die.
you decide that if he dies, you'll just bring him back to life somehow and kill him again.
you don't remember how long you wait. multiple times, you stand up and pace around the room. agitated, scared. every gunshot has you looking at the door again and again, hoping that somehow young-il will decide to burst through it. 149 tells you to be calm, tries to distract you with your life outside the games. it doesn't work.
thankfully, the pistol in your hand had scared the other team enough to not try anything with you. they talk within themselves, trying to busy themselves with conversations and anxiously bouncing their legs as they look at the ceiling. you wonder how they can be so calm after killing your team.
"you people are cowards." you say to no one in particular. the message hits the target though, because the ones who weren't willing to go and help shift uncomfortably.
"you'd rather die losing to a stupid game instead of a noble death trying to help people," you chide, chuckling bitterly. 149 tries to stop you from talking, but you shrug her words off with a shake of your head. you stand up and face the other team again. "it's shameful. you had no problem killing others who were in the same position as you, but your oppressors is where you decide to stop?" you gesture towards the dead bodies. the sight of blood doesn't make you squeamish anymore. it just makes you sad.
"these people died because you wanted to keep playing." you hiss, "you killed them."
the people on the other side don't respond, instead lowering their gaze to the floor. you look at nam-gyu sitting on the side, fiddling with something. you want to kill him. you want to kill everyone who stopped you from going home, who became the reason more innocent people died. your morals are a bit fucked, you think, but you're okay with it. people who do bad things deserve to die. you raise the gun, aim it at player 100. he flinches, and sits straight up, raising his hands. his team members shuffle away from him, and it makes you snicker. when he's on death's door, they abandon him. "have you gone crazy!?"
"game or no game, you were meant to die." you clench your jaw, your mouth twitching. "shall i kill you, old man?"
you don't get to pull the trigger. you're interrupted by player 388 rushing inside, panicked and covered in blood. your eyes widen, and you go straight to him, grabbing his shoulders. he looks shaken up, "what happened? where's 001? is he okay? did you find—"
"gather all the remaining ammo," he says shakily, fumbling over his words, "we ran out. i need to take some back."
you nod, and 149's son comes to help you check the dead guards' gear and gather the remaining ammunition. 388 wraps it up in a jacket, and rushes to the door, before suddenly stopping. you pause, looking at him, sweat breaking out across your skin. there's a bad feeling in your stomach. "what's wrong? aren't you going?"
he doesn't respond. you can't see his face because his back is turned to you. a moment passes and you step forward cautiously. he drops the walkie talkie, and your eyes fall to the floor where it lands— where you can hear the voice of player 120 asking where he is. they have no ammo.
"i can't do it." 388 whispers, shaking. he rushes back to his bed, drops the little makeshift bag full of ammo and cowers into himself. your eyes widen. you look at the walkie talkie, and back to him. if they don't get ammo soon, they're going to die. you rush to the bed, shoot 388 a frown— you consider comforting him, but you have another priority now. you grab the bundle and turn to leave.
149 runs after you along with a few others, pulling you by the sleeve of your jacket. she's trembling with worry. "your father told me not to let you leave—"
amidst the chaos, you let out a chuckle.
"he's not my father," you reply, yanking your jacket from her grip and composing yourself. the sentence would've had you cackling in a better situation. you can't wait to tell young-il about it. you can understand why she'd think so, even though you and young-il look literally nothing alike. the opposite, really. he's like a father in spirit.
your face hardens and you address the crowd. "they need help. is anyone gonna come with me?”
nobody moves. you scoff bitterly. predictable.
149 looks at you helplessly, pushes her son to grab you. when he advances towards you, you pull out the gun and hold it to his head, eyes crazed as you pull the safety. you warn him dangerously, "step back."
he raises his hands and steps back, lowering his gaze. holding the bundle to your chest, you walk backwards, aiming the gun to both sides of the room and ensuring no one grabs you. you look at 149, meet her crushed gaze and mouth an 'im sorry' to her before running out as fast as you can.
you're quite sure you got lost. you're running as fast as you can, trying to follow the sounds of the gunshots, and looking for any bullet holes or signs of struggle. you look up and see broken cameras, and recall 120 shooting them back in the hall. you follow them until one of the red guards encounters you, immediately raising his gun. he's slow, infuriatingly so— but it doesn't matter because in your panicked haze, you shoot him in the stomach, then rush forward and kick his gun away before running off.
you can see your team. you let out a breath of relief, and as soon as 120 meets your gaze, she gasps. you shake your head and quickly slide over to her, giving her the rest of the ammunition. she quickly reloads, and you toss the rest to the other players, before looking around frantically, flinching at the gunshots. "where's 001 and 456?" you ask her.
"control room!" she points towards the end of the hallway, and you nod before advancing. she tries to protest but you're quicker, and she's preoccupied with firing. luckily, the guards never seem to fire at you.
there are two sides. you hesitate, before finally taking the left one where you just heard two gunshots. you quickly rush forward, pistol held protectively. the whole area looks like some sort of purple maze, and you're wary as you walk, scared that a guard might jump out and shoot you.
finally, you see your young-il's back. he's crouching on the floor, looking at a dying player. the relief you feel is baffling. your eyes widen, and you call out his name. "young-il sir!"
he tenses, turning back so fast that you worry he'd get a whiplash. visibly stressed, he rushes towards you, shaking his head, "no— no, no, no, no, no, what are you doing here!”
you run towards him, almost tripping on the stairs. he grabs your shoulders, shakes you aggressively, "i told you not to fucking leave!"
you almost flinch at his tone. it's strange to see him swear. you answer him shakily, panting, "they— they ran out of ammo, i couldn't leave you!"
he looks upset and shaken up, clenching his jaw as he pinches the bridge of his nose, mumbling incoherently to himself. you turn towards the dying player, your expression pained. he tries to point at something, but you don't understand what. you kneel towards him, and his hand falls down. his croaking stops.
suddenly, you hear the footsteps of guards heading towards you. before you can move, you're surrounded. you hold onto your gun, shaking as you quickly stand up. you swallow hard, unblinking as they aim their guns at you.
that’s when you notice it.
they're aiming at only you, and not young-il. it makes you feel strange.
you look at him, and he's taking sharp breaths, as if trying to compose himself. or trying not to scream with rage. it's odd, how relaxed he looks. tense in the face, but relaxed in the way that he didn't take an offensive stance, or feel surprised at the sight of the guards. you frown in confusion, before he flicks his hand. the guards lower their guns.
you blink a few times, swallowing the lump in your throat, dread settling in your stomach. you look at the guards, then at young-il, who refuses to meet your gaze. you repeat the action.
guards. young-il. guards. young-il. then the players on the floor. then back at young-il's face. and it takes you a moment, but the realization sets in.
the guard letting you go to the restroom when young-il was by your side, him conveniently appearing to save you when you went exploring, him walking with that air of authority. how the guards never seemed to look at him too long. how easily he killed the man during mingle without a second thought. how one look from him had the guard lowering his gun during voting. how he was sure he wouldn't die. things that you never should've looked over.
you step back, your breathing getting ragged as you slowly raise your gun towards young-il. the guards point their guns at you again, ready to shoot. he stops them by raising his hand in warning. he clenches his jaw, his eyes unreadable and guarded.
"who are you." you demand tightly. your voice shakes pathetically, it makes you wince. you've never been this scared of anything in your life. not even the games.
"it doesn't have to be this way." he says quietly. his voice seems different, deeper. gravely. he holds his hand out to you in what he hopes is a comforting fashion. "put the gun down."
you step back, putting your finger on the trigger, just the way he taught you. ‘i want you to be safe,’ he'd said.
"i asked you a fucking question!" you yell, voice cracking. your gun feels slippery in your hands. it almost falls. you fumble trying to keep a tight grip on it. all this time, the prospect of death felt a little comforting with the idea that you'd have young-il by your side if it happened. but now, it just terrifies you. it looks bleak.
you sniffle, lips wobbling as fresh tears roll down your cheeks. you were always fucking unlucky. the first time you like a man this much, he turns out to be the bad guy. you feel utterly pathetic and terrified.
his eyes dart all over your panicked face before he gestures towards one of the guards, who raises his gun. there's a flash of guilt in his eyes that you can't miss. it makes your blood freeze. you refuse to die alone.
you straighten your aim towards young-il and pull the trigger. two gunshots ring out, and you don't get the time to react before something stings your chest, and you fall to the ground.
your vision goes black.
there are no dreams, no last memories. no flashes of your life. there's this heaviness in your chest, like someone is suffocating you.
you wake up with a startled gasp, sitting up immediately. your vision looks blurry, but with a few blinks you can make out a room. a lavish room with a closed window on the side. you frown in confusion, before putting your hand to your chest. there's no bleeding, no pain except the one in your muscles.
you swallow hard, your throat feeling dry. for a moment you wonder if it was all a dream, but when you try to move, you realize your right hand is chained to the side of the bed— with those strong black straps with locks that they used in the second game. you pull at it a few times, breathing getting heavy as you look down on yourself. your bloodied green jersey has been replaced by a comfortable pair of pink pyjamas that cover your arms and legs. you raise your hand to your head, and there's a small bandage on the right side of your face that you remember previously scratching in the bathroom.
you struggle a little, try to look for a way to unlock the straps, but it's like the room is purposely empty. absolutely no sharp or heavy objects to help you escape. like a prison cell.
you think of young-il. is he dead? you remember pulling the trigger. you knew the risk that came with aiming the gun at him when you were surrounded by guards— you just had this thought that if you were going to die, you would drag him with you. he won't get to live after what he'd done.
you don't get to brood about your thoughts for long, because the door opens and he steps inside— a man dressed in black, with a creepy mask. it makes you feel uneasy. you touch your chest again, look at him with a questioning gaze.
“it was just a tranquilizer.” he answers your silent question, voice distorted through the mask.
“is this really necessary?” you ask dryly, rattling the chain on your right hand.
“do you feel comfortable?” the man asks, gesturing towards your clothes.
you grit your teeth, “cut the bullshit. who are you?”
the man sighs, looking down, as if disappointed. he looks at you again before taking off the mask, and you feel like throwing up.
his hair looks different — slicked back with gel. his eyes look tired, even more so than back at the games. he looks more intimidating this way. you feel a strong urge to leap across the bed and ruffle his hair so he can look familiar again.
you have so much to say.
why did you do this? who the fuck are you? how are you still here, when i so clearly remember shooting you?
“you're alive,” you instead remark dryly. young-il gives you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.
“your aim needs more practice,” he says quietly, patting his right shoulder. “barely grazed me.”
the idea of having hurt him almost makes your chest ache, but you remind yourself of who he is.
you sniffle, lips wobbling as you look at him. your dear young-il. who comforted you, protected you, held you and kissed you so dearly. he really made a fucking fool out of you.
“and what's all that for?” you tilt your head towards his hand. trying to put on a mask, just like him. a brave face.
he places the mask on the table, walks over to sit on the side of the bed. you flinch, moving away from him slightly.
he notices, and it hurts more than getting shot. he doesn't dare reveal that on his face.
“is your name even young-il?” you ask quietly, voice strained.
he shakes his head. you snort bitterly.
“i'm guessing you're the big boss then.” you remark flatly, looking around the room. forcing yourself to appear nonchalant. he wants to tell you to drop the act, because he can still hear your voice faltering.
he nods, “something like that. i design the games.”
you bite down on your lower lip to stop it from wobbling. nobody knows the strength it takes trying not to cry. you lower your gaze to your lap.
your next question is pathetic. you would expect yourself to scream and threaten him to let you go, but there's only one thing on your mind.
“was i a game to you too?” you ask quietly. you don't want to know the answer. perhaps you would've preferred it if he killed you.
he sighs, averting his gaze. he utters your name softly, and you feel like a weak woman because you still like the way he says it.
your voice almost waivers when you ask, “are you going to hurt me?”
he looks at you, blinks a few times before answering honestly. “don't make me.”
you hold back the urge to sob. your left hand comes up to clap over your mouth, and he looks away as you cower in on yourself. how can he say that, after covering your eyes and pulling you into him to ensure you didn't get scared by people getting killed? you wish there was atleast a lamp on the side table, maybe you could've cracked his skull to free yourself from this fear. and to take revenge for playing with your heart.
“you ruined everything.” he admits, voice growing tight. solemn. he clenches his jaw, mouth twitching with barely disguised anger. “i went into the games because of gi-hun, to make sure he doesn't stop the game. and then ended up paying more attention to you than him.”
you release a shaky breath, pulling your knees to your chest. your mouth twists with emotion. gi-hun. player 456. your eyes widen, heart leaping out of your throat.
“is he okay?” you ask, voice cracking with concern, “is he alive?”
his head snaps up— gaze hardening almost dramatically. his eye twitches, and he gives you a tight smile. it doesn't suit him because it's not the one you're familiar with. “are you worried about him?”
you glare at him, eyes narrowing.
“he’ll be fine.” he adds nonchalantly. his voice sounds different— cold in a way that makes goosebumps rise on your skin. “would you rather be with him than me?”
you snort bitterly, looking away with a roll of your eyes. he can't be fucking serious. he has the audacity to be jealous after what he's done to you. he is so unbelievably ridiculous.
“put me back in the game.” you hiss through gritted teeth.
“i can't do that.” he shakes his head, “you will die in there. you won't survive the next games. i made sure they get increasingly difficult—”
“i'll win!” you argue, “i’ll beat them all and win, stop treating me like a fucking child—”
“you are a fucking child compared to me!” he bellows, making you flinch. your gaze never falters as you grit your teeth, looking at him with all the rage you can muster. he grabs your jaw, squishing your cheeks so hard that your lips pucker. he would've kissed you if he wasn't so fucking angry. his voice is harsh as he continues, shaking your head. “you! are quite literally a baby compared to me and the others in there. they're ruthless animals who won't hesitate to rip you apart to win. you're going to die in there and i wouldn't be there to save you!”
his words have your stomach churning, because he's right. but that doesn't matter to you.
“since when do you care?!” you snap challengingly. your words come out muffled.
he glares back at you, his nostrils flaring with anger, “i wish i didn't care.” he hisses, voice low. hoarse. he leans towards you. “oh how desperately i wish i didn't care about you.”
your heart begins to race as you stare at him, dumbfounded, unable to speak. he looks into your eyes, then glances down at your lips, before making eye contact again. he lets go of your face and straightens up, composing himself.
“you almost ruined my entire plan.” his voice is collected, almost guarded. “you consume my every waking thought ever since i felt your head against my chest. do you know how many times i had to warn my guards not to shoot you? especially with how many times you kept crossing the line?”
your breath hitches, and you open your mouth to argue. he doesn't give you a moment to speak.
“i'm not sending you back in the games where you can die.” he continues darkly. he brings his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. the action is gentle— a stark contrast against what he previously did. the situation you're in, the kind of man he is. you blink at him, eyes teary. his gaze softens just slightly. “you made me promise not to abandon you. I don't plan to.”
“you're a sick man,” you whisper. you can't believe he's holding that against you— your promises from when he was deceiving you, “you designed those fucking games. you can stop them anytime you wanted. i got stuck here because of you, you killed all those innocent people. you're a sadistic, psychotic asshole—”
he shoots you a warning glare, pressing his hand against your mouth. “don’t test me, brat. ”
you sniffle, letting out a pained whimper. you push his hand off your mouth, “let me go.”
he looks unamused, “i can't do that.”
“were you not planning to leave me?” you try to reason with him, desperate. “when you left with the rest of the team? you wouldn't have come back after that—”
“i would've found a way to get you home.” he admits quietly. “i had a plan. but then you came running after me like the brat you are. you never listen.”
“then let me go now!” you protest heatedly. his words have your heart hurting. if that's true, then you're the one who sealed your fate. another impulsive decision ruined your life. “i told you about me. i told you about my mom! i miss her. she and my sister—" you almost choke on a sob as you croak the words out, the mere thought of them driving you to insanity, "they need me."
“i've settled your father's debt,” he mentions after a moment of silence, looking deeply into your eyes. he hopes it gives you some comfort, stops you from wanting to leave him. “you don't have to go back. they'll live a life of ease.”
your blood runs cold. that means he knows where they are.
“do you expect me to fucking thank you?” you can't hold back the tears rolling down your cheeks, shaking your head, “i wanna go home.” you sniffle, “you ruined our lives. you played with my feelings and my life. people are dead because of you. how can you say you'd have let me go home one moment, and then refuse it the next?”
"don't hurt them," you speak again, leaning forward almost pleadingly. perhaps you shouldn't piss him off. you're not the kind to beg for your life. but your family? now that's another thing. "please keep them out of this. dont hurt them, please."
"i won't," he says airily, his dark eyes deeply boring into yours, "not if you don't give me a reason to. just be good."
you sniffle, violently trembling. be good. you'll be good. for your family's sake.
his hands cup your face and you flinch. his thumbs brush the tears away. you avert your gaze. you can't meet his eyes— you resent him.
you resent yourself because his touch still makes you feel an odd sense of comfort.
"this is torture," you choke out, "why are you doing this to me?"
he says your name softly, guides your face up to look at him, “i’m selfish.” he admits. “the moments i spent with you.. was the happiest i've been in a… long, long time. i'm not ready to let go of that. ever. ”
he has lost everything. his wife, his baby. his brother. his humanity. only now he has control over his life, enough resources. he can change fate with a flick of his finger. he's not going to lose you, not after you've made him feel human again, for the first time in years. you've ripped open his ribcage and climbed inside, sealed it shut with your touch. he hasn't been needed by anyone like this— it gives him a sense of purpose. he doesn't trust himself to not lose his mind if you're ever out of his sight. he'll make sure you're by his side, where he can hold you and comfort you. whatever it takes.
you shake your head, lips wobbling. you try to pull away, your free hand coming up to hold onto his, to pry it off your face. he doesn't let up, instead climbing towards you and invading your personal space as he presses your foreheads together.
“i don't know about you kids, but in my time, pinky promises were a big deal,” he says lowly, the side of his mouth quirking up. he's trying to joke, he wants to see you smile again. the way you did when you looked at him— with stars in your eyes. like he's your hero. nothing else has ever made him feel more alive. “i’m afraid i can't let you go.”
you let out a shudder, squeezing your eyes shut as he pushes you till your back collides with the bed. you shake your head, voice tired. “just kill me.”
his face drops, and he looks at you coldly, “you think i'd have you here like this if i planned to kill you?”
you don't respond to that, your chest heaving. everything hurts. your head is pounding, and you feel faint.
his thumb brushes across your cheekbone. he looks at you tenderly, analyzing every feature of your face.
“you know, i really expected you to struggle harder against me.” he observes. the words make you feel embarrassed. your skin heats up with shame, and you clear your throat, looking anywhere but him.
he might be right, you think. you've struggled a little, yes, but he can tell you have the ability to be so much more insufferable. but you're not, not yet. it's fucked up. because even after everything, for some reason you can't seem to brush him off you. you can't seem to let go of the comfort and hope he provided you in one of the most terrifying moments of your life.
you convince yourself it's because your family's life is on the line. not because of your personal feelings.
you don't answer him. you don't have to either, because judging by the small smirk creeping on his face, he knows.
“i'll take care of you,” his face softens. he's trying to convince you. there's a desperate edge to his voice. you look so utterly beautiful to him— your complexion glowing even more because of the pink pyjamas he got for you. in that moment he makes a mental note of what color clothes he'd shower you in the most. “those people down there that you're so desperate to save? they would've thrown you under the bus to win. they don't care about you. i'll make sure you're safe. the life you were living before was worthless. let me look after you.”
“i hate you,” you whisper, voice cracking. another tear rolls down your cheek, and he wipes it away. you don't mean it. he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.
“i know.”
you don't get to speak again, because he tilts your head up and crashes his mouth onto yours in a bruising, punishing kiss. it makes you wince, and you choke on a soft sob. against your better judgement, you kiss him back.
the moment your mouth parts under his, he takes the chance to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding in. he moans into your mouth, holding your face as he climbs over you completely. you contemplate biting his tongue off, but you don't. as if reading your mind, his hand comes down to gently squeeze your throat— just enough to make you feel a little lightheaded. you gasp softly, eyes blinking dazedly at him. he pulls his mouth away, then places a soft peck upon your lips. then another. and another. you take greedy breaths as you squirm under him. his hand leaves your throat and slips under your top and you jolt at the feeling of his warm hands against your tummy. his mouth trails down, leaving soft kisses across the smooth skin of your neck.
“you’re sick.” you gasp shakily, throwing your head back, giving him more room to place his wet kisses upon you.
“you're the one letting a man like me touch you,” he whispers hoarsely against your neck, voice slightly teasing. “maybe you're just as sick as i am.”
his words make you shiver. you consider them, and you force yourself to think of all the people back there in the hall, ready to march to their deaths tomorrow. your eyes open and you snap out of your trance.
you use your free hand to push slightly at his chest, gaze pleading, “don't kill them,” you whisper. “let them go. atleast our team. they're good people—”
“are you really doing this?” the switch in his voice has you quivering slightly. his hand comes up, grabs your hair. it stings just slightly. a warning. "do you think they would've been this desperate to save you?"
you let out a noise of protest, looking at him helplessly. trying to touch a string of empathy within him. he has none, not anymore.
“they knew what they were getting themselves into. there's no favoritism. you either win, or die.”
your ears ring, heart pounding against your chest. “then what am i?”
he smirks, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip.
“you're my little girl.” he noses the side of your neck. goosebumps rise on your skin, “don't bring that up again.”
you grit your teeth, feeling even more remorseful. is there no way to change his mind? even being responsive to his affection doesn't help.
but you're not being docile to change his mind.
you realize you're pliant because you like being under him.
your logical side forces you to speak. your guilty conscience doesn't allow you to get too comfortable under a killer. "this feels wrong."
he stops, clenches his jaw with restrained anger. he squeezes his eyes shut, mentally counts from 1-10 to avoid doing anything he might regret later.
"let me make you an offer," he pulls back, cocking his head to the side. his eyes are unreadable, voice flat, "i'll let them go on one condition."
your eyes widen with hope, and you nod enthusiastically, eager for him to speak.
"with every player i leave alive—" a small smirk appears on his face, despite his best efforts to hide it. "i'll kill someone you love."
the way terror seized you was suffocating. your throat immediately felt dry, eyes widening with shock. you stared at him, motionless, images of your family, your friends, flashing through your head. his hand gently splayed across your stomach, pressing down a little.
"a life for a life." he announced again, giving you a tight lipped smile, "how does that sound?"
"no." you warned, clasping his wrist desperately with your free hand, breathing rapidly. "no— no. please don't. i'll— i'll stay with you. i'll do anything you say, just—" you held back a sob, "please don't hurt them."
in life threatening situations— people only look out for two types of people. themselves, and the ones dearest to them.
he smiled fully then, amused. predictable, he thinks, before leaning back down, "then conversation's over."
"you made the right choice," he whispered. you didn't bother struggling, squeezing your eyes shut. his hand pulls down your top just enough. his mouth quite literally waters as he bites down on your exposed skin, leaving cherry red bruises across your collarbones.
you have no choice, you tell yourself. it's okay to get comfortable now. you couldn't have done anything.
you mewl, and he slips two of his fingers in your mouth, watching intently with a hungry gaze as you suck on them enthusiastically— just like back in the hall. your eyes flutter, and you mumble incoherently as his fingers gently thrust in and out of your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. it’s messy and sloppy, and the sight of your saliva slipping down your chin makes him moan softly, “my pretty baby.”
you whimper as his hand slides down to your bottoms. you wait with bated breath as you look at him with hazy eyes. his hand slips down into your panties, and a desperate moan escapes your bruised lips.
“i just want to ruin you,” he chuckles breathlessly, teasing your entrance. he hovers over you, looks at you like a starving man as he pinches your clit. you yelp slightly. he taunts you, gaze full of faux innocence as he raises his eyebrows. “does it hurt, huh, sweetheart? do you want daddy to make you feel good?”
“oh fuck—” the moment that word comes out of his mouth, in his soft, breathy voice— you moan. you're pathetic. it's whiney and high pitched and so utterly desperate, it makes him proud to get a reaction like that out of you. and suddenly he understands a little more why you got so attached to him. he pecks your lips again, and smirks against your mouth. he teases your entrance with a single finger.
you whine, “please.”
“what did you say, hm?” he pretends not to hear you, pushing two fingers in. you've never been brave enough to use two even while masturbating— and his are long and thick. the stretch makes you wince. “come on, baby, tell your old man what you said.”
you try to capture his lips with yours again in hopes that he would stop teasing you. he chuckles breathlessly, then lets out a soft moan at the way your walls clench around him.
“i’m a sadistic, psychotic asshole, right?” he throws your words back at you, and you wince. you squeeze your eyes shut, bite down on your lips to hold back a needy whine. his fingers pull back and then thrust again, curling slightly. his thumb goes to your clit, rubbing it. you take a sharp breath, squirming on the bed as you moan again. he doesn't let up, “is that not what you called me? and now you want me to make you feel good?”
his voice grows serious again, face hardening. his motions stop. “apologize.”
your eyes snap open, and you look at him, surprised. “huh?”
“apologize,” he repeats, “for everything you said earlier. and i'll consider making you cum.”
that gets you to clench your jaw. you glare at him with narrowed eyes, chest heaving with frustration. but you won't do it. if anyone should be apologizing— it's him. he was the one who deceived you and ruined your life. and he hasn't apologized even once. he must think you're stupid. hell would freeze over before you apologize.
you almost reconsider your decision— but then again, his threat only stands if he leaves the players alive. he didn't say anything about language. you shake your head, your previous stubbornness taking over. “not a chance in hell.”
he snorts, looking at you, unamused. his facial expressions don't change, but you can see it in his eyes. little things like a twitch give him away. your heart drops as he pulls his hand out completely, his fingers glistening and wet. he brings them to his mouth, sucks the juices off so casually that it leaves you dumbfounded and flustered.
“i have no patience for brats.” he nods, standing up. you stutter over your words, mouth opening and closing like a fish. much like it did when you first met.
“b-but—”
“i have some work to do.” he announces coldly. you wonder if he's going to do something bad. he's having the time of his life, sexually and emotionally tormenting you. “i'll be back in a bit. i asked the guards to bring you some chocolate milk. feel free to tell them your favourite food for dinner.”
the sudden change in events has you so unbelievably baffled that you can't say a thing as he begins to leave. it's brutal, and it almost makes you want to cry.
“sir?” you call out softly, almost timidly. unsure of how to address him. you're not going to take a risk.
he stops midway, before sighing to himself. he turns to you, looks at the desperation in your eyes.
“inho is fine.” he remarks flatly, swallowing hard. he doesn't know why he decided to reveal his name to you.
perhaps because it would give him another excuse to not let go of you.
you keep looking at him, a devastated expression on your face. like you're dying inside. and maybe you are.
your only source of comfort is gone. you'd gotten too used to it in the past few days. now you wish you'd never met him.
the emotion on his face is unreadable as he walks back to you. he places a soft kiss to your forehead and turns to leave. you grab his hand. the prospect of being alone leaves you terrified. maybe if you can convince him to stay, be good for him, he wouldn't hurt your loved ones. you'll behave.
you start to miss how things used to be.
if things were different, he would have come back to you. he would smile as he walked through the door, and you would finally feel your heart pumping blood as you run to him. he'd drop his gun and hold you, and you'd cry into his chest. he'd ask you if you caused any trouble, and you would take him to your bed and tell him everything. you would tell him that 149 called him your father, and he would laugh— his old man laugh which sounds so sweet and makes his eyes crinkle. he would ruffle your hair and say something along the lines of, ‘with how many times i've saved your ass, i might as well be.’
from a younger age, all you've ever desired is comfort, something you never received. someone to hold you when you cry, to take care of you. protect you. you're sick of being the tough one. the mere idea of it was so far away for you, that the first show of affection and reassurance had you getting this terribly attached. perhaps, inho's biggest crime was taking that away from you.
“inho.” you whisper, visibly crushed. you don't even feel horny anymore. you just miss his comfort, his soft words of reassurance. his laugh. your eyes grow teary. “please don't leave me.”
he looks at you, contemplating. he sighs defeatedly, before grasping your hand properly. it's so warm, and you choke on a soft sob as the reality of your situation sinks in again. you're done for. there's no escape. you're alone, and there's no one to save you. your young-il will not come swooping in to protect you, because he was never there in the first place. you don't even realize when you break down into heartbreaking sobs, breathing ragged.
he isn't used to showing much physical affection. not after what he went through, not until you. and now with you like this, something softens within him. he sits back down on the bed, wordlessly leaning into you, his arms open. you feel utterly pathetic at how quickly you crawl into his lap, burying your face in his chest. you feel like you're betraying your team, but do you have a choice? perhaps you did. you could've chosen to be tough and refuse his affection. but the stakes are different now. your family's life is on the line.
you never stood a chance, not after you met him.
and you don't want to think of a single instance where you don't get to experience being held by him.
your morals are more fucked than you thought. even after all the threats, after him practically forcing you to stay, you can't help but desire his affection. you'll be selfish for once. what could you have done anyway? you would've died in there, and your family would be alone. if what he said is true, atleast now they can live a life of ease without any debts.
as for your team, 456 will look out for them. he's alive, afterall.
you force your mind to be silent.
“i miss you,” you wail painfully, your free hand clutching the fabric of his shirt.
he holds you like a child, a hand pressing your head close, the other wrapping around your waist. he shushes you gently, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. he doesn't regret anything he did. you'd made him promise to come back for you, afterall. he always keeps his word. “i'm right here.”
you lean into his neck, and breathe in the smell of him. you squeeze your eyes shut till your sobs die down into the occasional hiccup. the stretch of your right hand and the rattling of the chains is another reminder of where you are.
perhaps if you stay hidden against his chest, you can try to convince yourself it's still your young-il holding you like this.
A/N: so! that's the end of dusk till dawn. this story truly was my joker. i tend to add a lot of psychological elements and character interactions so the fic feels more immersive and realistic, like you're really part of the game. i hope you liked it. can y'all tell who my favourite characters are? lol. also, i'm very horrible with smut so i really tried but i just can't write too much 💔 I'm mostly an angst girl as you can tell. anyways, this was a little self indulgent. thank you so much for the support you guys showed me, it truly means everything! i might write blurbs related to this specific couple from time to time, but no promises! maybe if i get good ideas or requests. anyways i rambled a lot. thank you for reading. feedback is always motivating.
wc: 2.6k
a/n: Ahh i had so much fun writing this request!! if you would like a happier ending do please send me a message or inbox me i don't mind
warning: (spelling errors possibly?)
Pt 2 | masterlist
You nervously played with your hands as you walked around the room, every team had gotten a sixth player, it didn't help that you were seemingly the only foreigner there.
“Excuse me, could I join you all?” You questioned as you walked up to a group of elders.
Player 100 scoffed and dismissed you with a wave of his hand. “Please sir, I see your team is short a member..” You tried to convince him. He groaned at you before turning towards you. “Can’t you take a hint and leave...entitled americans!” He scoffed at you, looking you up and down in disgust.
“I’m sorry.” You apologized before walking away. You sat down near the wall and let tears well up in your eyes. As you let out a shakily breath, covering your face with your hands. You didn't even want to play more games, all you wished was to go home.
As you cried, a gentle hand was placed on you shoulder, making you peek through your hands. Player 388 was squatted next to you. “Are you alright, miss?” He questioned, concern in his eyes, you nodded and wiped your eyes with your jacket sleeve.
“Do you have a team?” He asked, helping you stand up; You shook your head at him, “Everyone claimed to have a sixth player..” You explained, he nodded slowly at your words before motioning for you to follow him.
Trailing behind him, he led you to a group of three older men and one girl around your age. “I have found our sixth!” He announced happily before stepping to the side to show you.
They all blinked as you waved to them, a small polite smile on your face.
“The foreigner?!” Player 390 exclaimed, one of the other men; player 456 smacked his arm before greeting you with a nod.
“In my game we had a foreigner, he did well, he just got given the wrong kind of person during a game...” Player 456 explained.
“Welcome!” Player 001 greeted, you smiled and nodded your head in acknowledgment “Thank you for having me.” You bowed slightly.
- - - - - - - - - - -
You all sat together in a line as the games got announced.
Ddakji, flying stones, gong-gi, spinning top, jegi and jacks.
“Jacks?” All of your teammates questioned. “You have to bounce a ball and collect little metal jacks and have to pick them up before the ball falls.” You explained, perking up.
“Are you any good?” Player 001 questioned. You held your hand out and shook it side to side, “somewhat.” He nodded as the others began to claim the other games.
You all watched as the other teams went, before you knew it, you were the last team to go.
You all got up and waited as the guards chained you; Your team had done well til it had gotten to spinning top.
You groaned as he managed to toss it behind you all, he broke down, yelling at himself for his mistake, you leaned forward a bit and looked towards player 001, “We all make mistakes, maybe try your left hand!” You suggested, he nodded and winded the toy up before letting it go, you all waited with baited breath as it spun.
You all walked to the next mini game and began to hype player 456 up as he did jegi, you all moved forwards as both player 456 and 001 caught it with their legs that were tied together.
“You got this!” Player 388 smiled as the guard handed you the ball, you and your team squatted down so you could play on the small table, shaking you tossed the ball up, you had failed to catch the jack in time due to your shaking hands. You groaned, you had tried twice to get the jacks before the ball fell but failed, you were on the verge of a panic attack as you glanced up to the counter.
“Calm down, we all make mistakes!” 001 tried to reassure. You just nodded and tried once more, you waited as the ball went up, with a swift hand you swiped up the mini jacks and the ball, you all yelled out in relief before running the fastest you could tied together.
You all cheered as you crossed the finish line; your beginning was cut short. Gunshots made you all flinch; The opposite team didn’t make it. You all stared horrified at the corpses while being unshackled.
- - - - - - - - - - -
You all walked back to the dorm, everyone's eyes on your backs. You had linked arms with 222, she had explained she was pregnant at the beginning of the game, you had gained a need to protect her ever since. As you passed player 100 and his friends you stopped at his words, “Both the foreigner and the pregnant girl lived, they’re definitely not making it to the next round!” He laughed, you turned and went to open your mouth but stopped as 001 walked over to them.
“What does that say about you? Your team is all old men, who’s to say none of you don’t have heart failure in the middle of the next game? What kind of men are you all, denying an expecting mother and an innocent foreigner help?!” He scoffed as the group of older men stumbled over their words.
He wordlessly walked away to his bed by the others.
You unlinked your arms as 222 walked towards another player, leaving you to follow after 001.
He sat on his bed, sighing. You quietly approached his bed, watching as he rubbed his shoulder, trying to give his muscles a bit of comfort. “Thank you again mister.” You muttered out, earning his attention, he looked in your direction.
“For letting me on your team, and standing up to that player…thank you mister!” You clarified, nervously playing with your fingers.
“Someone had to put them in their place, it was a matter of time really.” He lightly chuckled, patting the space next to him on his bed, you sit down.
“Why are you in the game?” He questioned, you softly laughed. “I originally came here to study abroad. emergencies happened in my home country, I trusted the wrong shady guy to send money to my family..” You explained, he listened.
“What brought you here mister?” you questioned, sitting up. “Hospital’s build up a lot of debt..” He sighed, you nodded.
He snickered, making you look at him confused. “You don’t have to call me mister, it’s-!” As he went to give you his name the others walked over, talking about the next vote.
“I think I threw my shoulder out!” Player 390 sighed, moving his arm in a circle motion. “I’m sorry about earlier, everyone..” 001 apologized. You all dismissed his apology
Player 222 had walked over and sat on the steps beside your shoes; she looked around as the group sat down together and talked. “Oh what about her ddakji play, im surprised she didn’t break the ground when she threw it!” Player 390 laughed, she looked bashfully to the ground, a smile on her face.
“Or what about her jacks play, swiped them better than a thief!” 388 complimented making you giggle; Player 222 bowed her head as she looked at you all. “Thank you for including me on your team.” she thanked. You quickly nodded in agreement, “thank you, i’d probably be dead if i hadn't found a team in time..” They all nodded.
“I think we’re lucky you two joined us, we’d be lost with the jacks or stuck on ddakji forever.” 390 joked, earning laughs from everyone. 388 stood up in front of you all, “listen since we’re sticking together, i think we should learn each other's names, it would be a good idea right?” He questioned, waiting for someone to disagree but it never came, you all nodded.
“I’ll start, my name is kang dae-ho; dae means big and ho means tiger!” He grinned, you all nodded.
“That’s a very cool meaning!” You grinned at him. Player 390 cleared his throat, “My parents didn't give me a cool name, it's just park jung-bae. Righteous and twice.. I guess they want me to be twice as righteous.” He sighed.
“My name is kim jun-hee, i dunno what it means though..” She gave a soft look before glancing down to her hands.
“Jun-hee, once we get out of here you need to go see a doctor, stress isn't good for either you or the baby.” 001 told the young girl, who nodded.
“I’m oh young il.” He introduced himself, you all nodded.
“It kinda sounds like your number!” You pointed out. “It’s easy to remember,” He laughed, before turning to 456.
“You’ve all heard my name, it's gi-hun.” He dismissed you all, “What’s your last name gi-hun?” Young il questioned. “It’s seong gi-hun.” He explained, earning nods.
“I’m y/n y/l/n, my name doesn’t have any meaning like your guys.” You smiled, earning a laugh from jungbae.
“Very american!” He commented, earning more comments of your nationality.
“Is it true americans carry guns everywhere?” Jung-bae asked, earning a laugh from you. “Um, certain states..yes.” You grinned.
You all had continued talking till a loud buzz, out walked the guards with the voting machine, you all watched as they set it up and went over the rules once more.
You all looked at one another’s badges. Young il cover his as you looked at him with a slight frown. ‘I’m voting to leave this time.” He nodded at you. You grinned and nodded “Maybe when we get out, me and you can go for dinner?” You suggested, a smile on your face, he chuckled at you “I’d enjoy that.”
You grinned at him as he walked to the machine and pressed the X.
You watched as the screen counting the votes go up as more people voted to stay, you began to shake as gi-hun pressed the X but was outvoted, you swallowed a knot in your throat.
You stood beside dae-ho and jun-hee in shock at the results, “I’m gonna be sick.” You muttered before running to the restrooms.
In-ho waited til everyone had disbursed before signalling towards the guard in your direction, you were to busy trying not to vomit in the dorm to notice anyone gaze.
- - - - - - - - - - -
Gi-hun had you all move your mattresses to the ground, he was on edge. He had told your group in his past game by the third game players had gotten violent during the night.
You sighed, laying down under the bed frame on your mattress. Slowly you had drifted off to sleep while the others continued to move more beds and set up a watch system.
You woke up during the night, having to use the restroom. You glanced over and saw everyone had fallen asleep. You quietly got up and walked to gi-hun, who watched for other players.
“I need to go use the restroom.” you told him, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “It's dangerous out there!” He warned, you glanced around the dorm, no one was actively awake.
“I'll be ok, no one seems to be up yet either!”
Before he could respond, you walked past and towards the side door and knocked. A triangle guard opened the small hatch, before you could say anything the door opened fully for you. “oh, thank you! I won't be long.” You thanked them, before walking into the restroom.
Gi-hun silently watched, holding back his yawns. A tap of his shoulder alerted him, in-ho smiled at the man. “Ready to switch off?” He asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes, gi-hun nodded and traded spots; In-ho waited til he knew gi-hun was asleep before getting up from the floor and walked to the side door and knocked in a pattern, the triangle guard bowed their head and stepped to the side.
- - - - - - - - - - -
You yawned as you walked out of the restroom, as you went to leave back to the dorm, the guard stopped you, standing in front of the door, facing you.
“Can i get by please?” You motioned to the door with your hand. They shook their head at you before speaking. “Follow the guard.”
You gave him a confused look, as you followed their raised hand you were surprised to see another guard, this guard was dressed different, his clothing was black and his mask had a sqaure. “Ok?” You quickly followed as the guard let you through the stairs, as you go to a certain part, they turned around and handed you a piece of black cloth. “Put it on.” They commanded, you nodded and tied it over your eyes, your heart began to pick up.
What did they want from you? Are they going to execute you?
Your thoughts ran wild as the guard guided you through the halls. Finally you had stopped. The sound of shoes filled your ears.
Your blood ran cold as your vision was restored, you flinched covering your eyes due to the lights. You squinted at the figure.
“Who are you?” You questioned, your eyes adjusting to the room’s light, the man’s mask was matte black, it had a sort of 3D design to it.
“I am the frontman, owner of these games.” He introduced himself, your heart stopped.
“Why am i here?” You questioned, too busy to see the guard grabbed rope and slowly approaching you. “I see you have gotten very close with one of the players…001.” You nodded, watching his every move.
“What did you do to him?” You questioned, the frontman stepping closer to you. “Nothing, just if your safe and away from him, he’ll do better at these games.” He explained, motioning for the guard.
As you turned your head the guard grabbed your arms and began to tie them together. You let out a yell as they pinned you and tied your legs together. “No one can hear you from here.” He explained, running one of his gloved fingers over your cheek as tears fell down.
He motioned to the guard to help move you to the bed he had in an adjacent room. You cried and thrashed the best you could.
He shushed you as you cried, he sighed, knowing it wasn't helping. He grabbed a remote he had on the bedside; he waited til the guard confirmed you were sacred in the bed before pressing a button, a small hiss filled the room. You stared at him in horror as gas filled the room.
“Goodnight.” He nodded to you before shutting the room door, feeling drowsy, you tired to look around the room for any way out but stopped as your eyes forced shut.
- - - - - - - - - - -
Gi-hun and the others were startled awake as in-ho yelled at the guards. “What happened?” Jung-bae questioned, rubbing his eyes and began to stand up to see the commotion.
“YOU TOOK HER, I KNOW IT SHE’S BEEN GONE FOR 5 HOURS!” In-ho yelled, pounding at the door where the hatch was closed.
Gi-hun and the others ran over to him, concerned and confused. “What’s going on?” Gi-hun asked looking at his teammate who sobbed squatting down to his knees, playing the grieving act.
“Those masked guards took y/n, she had been gone for sometime and i went to see if she was there and-!” He sobbed, earning worried looks from the group.
“Player 129 has been eliminated!” The voice rang out in the room.
Everyone stared at each other in shock. Jun-hee covered her mouth in shock. Gi-hun sighed and squatted down to in-ho’s level and patted him on the back in comfort. “Help stop these games for her.”
In-ho nodded and wiped the tears away. “For her..” He repeated sadly, knowing full well you were peacefully sleeping in his bed at the moment.
Lee Byung Hun, your teacher. ADULT CONTENT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
more of teacher byung hun · contains: teacher x student, huge age gap: reader is in school, byung hun in mid 50s. smut, dry humping.
byung hun was never the type to want someone so young, no, never— that was until you came into the picture. the little glances he'd share with you in his classroom, your perfect body all dolled up in skimpy clothing just for him, he could tell you do it for him, how desperate you were for his attention. his eyes would be fixated on the gentle slopes of your waist, the curves of your ass and the plush of your thighs. he just wanted to devour you whole. keep you all to himself.
and you weren't oblivious to that. you would always feel his gaze lingering on your figure a bit longer than usual, heat pooling down your core as you squeezed your thighs together in attempts to find something to grind onto. he made you such a mess.
he wanted to keep things professional; keep his distance. but the way you'd look up at him with those fuck me eyes had him running into the staff bathroom stalls, unable to handle any more of the ache growing between his legs, beads of precum spilling out of his uncontrollably swollen tip before he even got to take his boxers off. he needed you. needed you to take his load out into. but he knew he couldn't make his move; poor little byung hun knows he'd get in so much trouble if he tried messing with you.
and he doesn't care.
because right now you were straddling his lap and the growing bulge you thought you were supposed to ignore, as he tutored you after keeping you back when school had ended. the school halls were empty, save for the faint echoes of laughter drifting in from outside. the room was locked, he made sure of that. he doesn't anyone walking in and seeing what he does to his pretty girl.
“such a dumb girl, hm?“ he'd make a remark, pointing to the big red C on your test papers. and all you could do was nod calculus was never your strong suit— but you were beginning to feel like mr. byung hun gave you a C just to keep you back in his classroom.
your breath hitched as he laid a big heavy hand on your thigh, the other held a pen fixing the mistakes on your test paper. you craned your neck back to look at him, faces so close you were practically breathing each other's faces in. he had a dumb smirk plastered on his face— one so subtle you weren't sure if he knew what he was doing right now. if he knew you, his student, was on his fuckin’ lap right now. what a whore.
he tilted his head, removing his hand from your thigh to take off his glasses before setting them on the desk, and clasping his hand on your thigh back again. this time, he'd rub small circles and grab small chunks of meat occasionally. poor you, you didn't even know what to do at that point— but you wanted it. you were down right pathetic for him.
without warning, he'd buck his hips up into the softness of your ass, prevailing in rubbing the growing boner just into the right spot. your breathing got faster, as you bit your now-bleeding bottom lip once again. you were—
“grind.“
and holy fuck. you were absolutely leaking after that. you were so, so, desperate, you started drawing circles into his lap with your hips without giving it much thought. he'd shut his eyes close, nipping at your neck as his free hand reaches around and clamps the base of your throat and pulls it back slightly; all whilst you two were going back and forth, taking turns grinding on each other.
and byung hun was so effing cute, he creamed his boxers before you guys could properly even start. you can't be mad at him, after all, he was your beloved teacher.
Summary: Quick one shot about the mingle game, reader is a participant in the games.
Part 2
You inhaled a deep breath as your eyes took in the circular room you just entered, a comically large merry go around horse in the center of it, surrounded by a round red platform. You looked at the walls next, seeing different colored doors before Gi-Hun grabbed your arm to pull you along with him and the others towards the platform.
“Do you have any idea what this is supposed to be?” Gi-Hun asked, shaking your head in response before you turned to Young-Il stood on your other side, a cold look on his face, snapping out of it when your eyes met his. “How about you?” You asked him, a sigh escaping Young-Il’s lips before shaking his head, “I’m blanking as well”
“It could be a form of Mingle? Make teams and enter a room” Jung-Bae joined in, before the lights suddenly turned off, feeling a hand grabbing either of your arms. Some smaller lights turned on instead, seeing the hands belonged to Gi-Hun and Young-Il. A children’s song started to play as you felt the platform beneath your feet kick into motion, grabbing onto the two men beside you to steady yourself.
You closed your eyes for a moment to keep your ground, feeling yourself grow dizzy because of the spinning platform, the colored doors zooming past your vision. “Y/N, you okay?” Young-Il’s voice sounded close to your ear, making you open your eyes again as you looked up at him to quickly nod your head. The platform suddenly came to a halt which almost sent the three of you to the floor when Gi-Hun lost his footing, but he managed to hold his balance.
“Five, please form a group and enter a room” A female voice spoke over the speaker when the song stopped, making you look back at Jung-Bae who was already making his way over. “One more” Gi-Hun sighed, before your eyes fell on Hyun-Ju looking around frantically, searching for people to join. “Hyun-Ju!” You yelled, making her eyes snap to yours before running over, the five of you running towards an empty room.
Young-Il closed the door behind you as a lock slipped into place, locking you inside. After 1 minute passed some people still hadn’t made it into a room, all the doors closing suddenly, gunshots sounding through the room not much later before the lights turned off again. You sank down to the ground as you felt your heart beat loudly against your chest, placing your hand on top and taking a few deep breaths.
You could feel someone sit down next to you and could make out the contours of Hyun-Ju’s face as she wrapped an arm around you, the seconds ticking by painfully slow before the door swung open again as the lights came back on. Young-Il extended a hand to you to help you up, the five of you walking back to the red platform, blood splatters scattered around the room. You held on to Hyun-Ju when the platform started spinning again as the song sounded too, fighting the urge to close your eyes.
“Four” The female voice sounded when the platform came to a halt, panic in your eyes when you looked at your group of five. “Go! I’ll find another group” Young-Il yelled, pushing the four of you off the platform. You reached out to grab his arm but before you could clutch onto his jacket he turned around to make his way through the crowd, calling out his name but Gi-Hun and Hyun-Ju pulled you along with them to follow Jung-Bae to an empty room.
When the door locked behind you again you moved on your tiptoes to look through the slit in the door, but it was too difficult to locate him in the chaos outside. When the gunshots sounded again the hairs on your arms stood up as a shiver went down your spine, the wait for the door to open somehow feeling even longer than the previous round.
When the door finally opened you pushed it open as quick as you could, the four of you looking around before your eyes finally fell on the man you were searching for, a broad smile on his lips when he walked over to your group. “Thank god you made it” Gi-Hun breathed out as he grabbed onto Young-Il’s shoulder. You tried to hide your shaking hands as Young-Il rubbed your back shortly, before you all moved back on the platform.
“Seven” The voice sounded, making your way off the platform as Gi-Hun called out to 007 and 149, the mother and son looking around for a group. Now that you were with seven people the search started for an empty room, noticing not even half the doors had opened, and a lot of them were already occupied. “There!” You yelled as you saw an empty chamber at the other side of the room, your group running over. Everyone made it inside until you noticed Young-Il wasn’t close behind you anymore, seeing someone pushed him to the floor who was now running in your direction. You moved to stand in the doorway as you grabbed onto the edges of the frame, holding yourself tight and waiting for the man to close in. You moved your leg back before kicking the man in the stomach with all of your strength, sending him flying on his back with a loud thud.
Young-Il ran over to you and tackled you to the floor with him, managing to break your fall as he landed on top of you with his arms wrapped around your body, the door swinging shut not a second later. The only sound filling the room the next few seconds were both of your heavy breaths, the others stood in shock against the wall at what just happened. “Thank you..” Young-Il softly spoke, making you lift your head from the floor to meet his dark eyes. “You’re welcome” You dryly replied, somehow also in shock at where your sudden strength had come from.
You felt your face go red as Young-Il finally moved to get off of you, helping you up again as the others let out a laugh of relief. “What a move, y/n!” Jung-Bae laughed, making you join their laughter as you wiped a drop of sweat away that had rolled down the side of your head. “Are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Young-Il asked as he grabbed your shoulder, concern clear on his face as he looked down at you. “No, I’m fine. I’m just glad you made it” You replied, making a smile form on his face before he patted your head, the door opening again.
“This should be the final round” Gi-Hun spoke when the platform started spinning again, “What do you reckon? It’s probably two now right?” You asked him, Gi-Hun nodding his head. “I was thinking the same” Gi-Hun replied, before the platform came to a halt. “Two” Sounded from the speakers just like you’d expected, your group running over to the doors. Your foot landed in a puddle of blood however, causing you to lose your footing as you fell to your knees. Young-Il was the first to notice, quickly stopping as he called for the group to continue running, making his way back to you.
“What are you doing?! You’ll never make it, find someone else” You yelled at him when he ran back over to you, but that didn’t matter to him, leaning down to pull you up as he grabbed onto your hand. Both of you were looking around to find an empty room, only to see there wasn’t one, the only door still open had people fighting for it. Young-Il however pulled you in that direction, clutching his hand tightly as you followed him towards it. He pushed someone out of the way roughly as he tugged you inside the room with him, pulling the door close behind him.
You both turned towards a sound in the corner of the room to see someone was already inside, feeling panic start to rise within you as you knew what this meant. Young-Il suddenly moved towards the man however, swiftly moving behind him as he wrapped his arm around the man’s neck, both of them sinking to the ground as Young-Il started to choke him. “What are you-!” You started before you realized what was happening, closing your mouth as you looked down at Young-Il before he snapped the man’s neck, letting his body drop to the floor with a loud thud right before the timer hit zero.
You could hear your own loud breathing as Young-Il stood up, walking over to you as you pressed your back against the wall, Young-Il moving to stand right in front of you. You had to move your head back against the wall to meet his eyes, his hand coming up to your cheek. “I still had to repay you for saving me earlier” He softly spoke, his eyes moving down to your lips for a short moment before moving back up to your eyes. “Thank you” You muttered, in a weird state of shock at what you just saw and how he was now only inches away from you.
He suddenly leaned down to press too short of a kiss on your lips before he parted his lips to say something, but the door opened again, Young-Il nodding his head towards the door as he followed you outside. The rest of your group had made it as well as they came running over to you, a fake smile back on Young-Il’s face as he celebrated with them, but you had seen right through his facade.
Not much later you returned through the stair maze back to the sleeping quarters, Young-Il and you walking at the back of the group as you felt him walk closer to you and lean down next to your ear. “You’re smart enough not to tell anyone about what happened inside that room, hm?” He softly spoke, goosebumps raising on your skin as you felt his breath against the side of your neck. “You saved our lives, that’s all that happened right?” You replied, hearing a soft chuckle leave him. “Good girl” He whispered as he moved back upright again, you looking back to meet his eyes one last time before making your way to your bunk bed.
synposis: it's in the title! first dates with squid game characters... where they would take you, how they would act, etc
warnings: a little bit suggestive? gi-hun's is post-games. not proofread
a/n: based on this request! i drank a whole bottle of carrot juice while writing this + fell 10x more in love with wi hajoon.. lmk if you guys want me to expand on any of these with a mini oneshot or something
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hwang in-ho
• where he takes you: a fancy restaurant— not to show off his money but because in-ho expects a certain level of quality and wants to create a good first impression for you. the restaurant is upscale and modern with a rooftop view.
• how he acts: stoic and composed. he's pretty quiet, but will participate in the conversation just enough to not give anything away about his job. he'll compliment you once throughout the night, something simple but sincere, enough to make you remember it for the rest of the week.
• end of the night: drives you home. he'll walk you up to your apartment and if he senses that you're interested in him (and c'mon how could you not be?) he'll kiss you— soft and sweet. he won't try to initiate anything else and will end the night with the promise to call.
cho sang-woo
• where he takes you: a quiet restaurant that you've never heard of but he swears it's his favorite. sang-woo likes this place because it's just elegant enough without being flashy and quiet, tucked away from the busy main street.
• how he acts: quiet, but more so because he's nervous and not good at letting people in. sang-woo's good at keeping conversation going, but honestly, doesn't want to waste his time or yours, so he might ask some deeper, personal questions.
• end of the night: walks you home and gives you his jacket to drape over your shoulders. he'll walk you up to your front door and might hesitate a little bit but will probably lean in to kiss you softly. if you invite him inside for drinks, he won't say no but won't do anything more than kissing.
kang dae-ho
• where he takes you: to an arcade. dae-ho likes to have fun on dates, especially on first dates, since it eases some of the pressure / expectations and to him, it's the best way to get to know someone. he'll have so much fun playing with you throughout the night and will probably do his best to get a cute stuffed animal from the crane to gift you.
• how he acts: lighthearted and funny. the kind to genuinely want to have fun on a first date and get to know you, playing every single game and secretly trying to impress you.
• end of the night: walks you home with the plushie he won you in your arms. he'll hold your hand on the walk home and has probably been working up the courage to find the right time to kiss you the whole night. when he gets to your front door, he looks like he wants to kiss you, but chickens out last minute and just kisses your cheek quickly before nearly tripping down the stairs.
hwang jun-ho
• where he takes you: his apartment, for a homemade meal. a true romantic. he'll cook a whole meal for you, probably some traditional food. he'll have a table set up with candles to provide dim lighting, and you just know that he thought about every small detail.
• how he acts: sooo charming and romantic— hell, this guy is making a whole meal for you. jun-ho listens intensely to everything you say, absentmindedly reaching for your hand across the table and tracing small circles on the back of your hand.
• end of the night: definitely gets shy at the end of the night, wondering if it's the right moment or not to kiss you. he'll lean in cautiously but will kiss you softly, one hand cupping your face. jun-ho definitely likes to take things slow, so he wouldn't try to initiate anything else, but would ask if you need a ride home.
thanos (choi su-bong)
• where he takes you: his penthouse. partly for convenience, to show off the house he bought when he blew up as a rapper, and well... because his bed is there. he'll probably order some takeout for the two of you and put on a movie or you'll play video games together.
• how he acts: definitely overconfident, especially if this is in the peak of his career. su-bong is the kind of guy who pulls the corniest moves— pretending to stretch and somehow draping his arm over you. he doesn't wait till the end of the night to kiss you, he'll do it in the middle of the movie when you so happen to meet his gaze that's been flickering back and forth between you and the screen for the past half hour.
• end of the night: it's not necessarily because he's not looking for anything serious, but su-bong just moves fast. the kisses throughout the night will eventually get more heated, so don't be surprised if you end up tangled up in his sheets. he has absolutely no objection to you spending the night, and honestly probably prefers it.
namgyu
• where he takes you: just a regular restaurant. not fast-food, but also not luxurious. it's very rare for namgyu to do serious relationships, so he likes to think of first dates as a middle ground to see how he feels about you, a simple restaurant is just the place to do so.
• how he acts: if he actually likes you, a little shy— hands fidgeting as he nods intensely to whatever you're talking about. if he's not looking for anything serious, he might look a little disinterested, eyes roaming over your figure. he thinks you can't notice but he's not very subtle.
• end of the night: it totally depends on how namgyu feels. if he wasn't looking for anything serious or felt like you guys didn't really click, he'll probably ask if you want to come over to his place. he'll take your yes as an answer and once at his apartment, he'll kiss you quickly and messily, hands slipping under your shirt. however— if namgyu actually likes you, he'll be a bit shyer and will probably only kiss you at the end of the night, although the kiss itself is intense.
the salesman
• where he takes you: a fancy restaurant. the salesman likes to show off the money he has, so expect the place to be luxurious. chandeliers, dim lighting, and white tablecloths.
• how he acts: confident and always with a small smirk on his face. the type of guy to order your meal for you. he listens intensely to everything you say, preferring that you talk, although he probably already knows everything about you. knows how to hold eye contact so well, making you look away and your heart flutter. with the salesman, it's all in the subtleties that will make you obsessed with him.
• end of the night: he'll drive you home, a hand resting on your hand the whole ride. also the type to kiss your hand softly while he drives— another small detail that he knows you'll be thinking about for weeks. he'll kiss you at the end of the night, slow yet intense, but won't try to initiate anything else.
myung-gi
• where he takes you: the aquarium. he'd want to do something more interesting on the first date and to him, going to an aquarium is such a cute idea. it could make a special place for the two of you as the relationship gets serious.
• how he acts: somehow both confident and nervous. confident in the way that he holds your hand and points to a pair of fish— "look, that's us!" but nervous in the way that he'll stumble over his words and his cheeks will flush every time you look up at him.
• end of the night: drives you home, his hand holding yours on the center console the whole time. he'll kiss you in his car, his hand cradling your face, slow and sweet. it's enough to leave you wanting more, but honestly, if you invite him up to your apartment, things could definitely escalate.
gi-hun
• where he takes you: similar to namgyu, just a simple restaurant where you can get to know each other. despite being somewhat of a romantic at heart, he likes to keep it simple on the first date but will definitely be willing to splurge more for you once it becomes official.
• how he acts: quiet and guarded, but sincere. he doesn't talk much, but has genuine interest in what you're saying. his eyes are always soft when he meets your eyes, but intense. he's hesitant to tell you about himself, feeling like his life before and during the games is completely separate to the one he's living now.
• end of the night: walks you home, hand holding yours softly. he'll kiss you softly but hesitantly, like he's scared to drive you away. he won't try to take things further, but wouldn't mind to continue getting to know you better if you invite him inside.
gyeong-seok
• where he takes you: (yes i'm going to romanticize him because i can) an art museum. as someone who's introverted, gyeong-seok loves dates like these because it gives space for conversation and silence.
• how he acts: a subtle gentleman— will open doors for you and gently place a hand on your back to guide you. he doesn't speak much, but always loves to share his thoughts or observations on certain art pieces.
• end of the night: gyeong-seok will buy you something small from the gift shop, like a small print of a piece that you mentioned you really liked. he's shy about it when he gives it to you, but wants you to have something to remember the night by. he'll walk you home and lend you his jacket if you're cold. definitely more hesitant on kissing you at the end of the night because he's scared you might not feel the same, but if he does it's soft and slow.
