❥ summary: where our ex-marine can't help but feel strangely attracted to the beautiful girl with blonde hair and cute freckles.
❥ word count: 1.7k
❥ warnings: fem!Reader, mention of death and blood
❥ authors note: Hi! I'm Abi. This is my first time writing on Tumblr :) and my first language is not English, so if I misspelled anything please let me know!
From the moment he saw her smile and pose for the photo they were taking at the start, Dae-ho couldn’t help but notice her. Not because he wanted to, but because something about her presence seemed to draw attention effortlessly. She was the blonde girl with long hair, the kind of golden tone that caught the soft light in the room, making it appear gentler than anyone in a place like this had a right to be. And those freckles... damn, they were like tiny specks of art scattered across her face, framing eyes that shone with a mix of calmness and determination.
Not that Dae-ho cared, of course. He wasn’t there to admire anyone’s beauty. He was there to win. But somehow, his gaze kept drifting back to her, no matter how hard he tried to resist. It was absurd how his mind insisted on taking in every detail—from the way she tucked her hair behind her ear to how she seemed to analyze the situation with a precision that intrigued him.
“She’s nothing special,” he told himself in an attempt to cut off those thoughts. But almost immediately, he corrected himself: “Well, yeah, she’s cute, I guess.” That simple admission made him frown at himself. This wasn’t the time or place to be thinking about things like that, and he knew it.
When the first game began, "Red Light, Green Light," she caught his attention again—this time because of the way she stepped slightly away from the crowd. It was a smart move, albeit risky. Most people stuck to the center, as if being surrounded offered some false sense of security. But not her. She stayed near the edge, choosing an open space where no one could sabotage her. That’s when Dae-ho realized something else about her: she wasn’t just cute—she was clever.
Her decision paid off. Soon enough, some players started pushing each other for no reason, and gunshots rang out as the cameras detected even the smallest movements. The chaos that erupted only confirmed what he already suspected: the girl knew how to think strategically.
For his part, Dae-ho decided that sticking close to her wasn’t a bad idea. Not because she was cute, of course, but because she seemed to know what she was doing. At least, that’s what he told himself as he carefully advanced.
Step by step, syncing his movements with the game, he eventually positioned himself behind her. Just when he thought he had everything under control, something unexpected happened: she stumbled. It was a small movement, almost imperceptible, but enough to make her lurch forward. Before she could hit the ground and risk her life, Dae-ho acted purely on instinct. He lunged forward and grabbed her by the waist, his hands finding a firm hold to steady her.
The contact was brief but intense. Gently yet firmly, he helped her stand upright, making sure she didn’t move more than necessary. She turned slightly to look at him, her eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and gratitude, while he tried to keep his composure as if it were no big deal.
“Be careful,” he muttered quietly, his tone more commanding than he intended. But inside, his heart was pounding, and it had nothing to do with the stress of the game.
Dae-ho didn’t think twice before stepping forward and placing himself in front of her, shielding her with his broad frame. It was as if some protective instinct had taken over—a reflex he couldn’t explain. If that doll detected any movement, he’d rather it be his than hers.
“Stay behind me and don’t move,” he whispered firmly, without looking back at her. He knew that even the slightest distraction could cost them their lives.
She obeyed, but couldn’t help whispering back, her voice so soft it almost blended with the wind:
“Thank you… that was really brave of you.”
Dae-ho didn’t respond right away. His jaw was tight, his eyes locked on the path ahead. Talking during the game was risky, but he couldn’t deny that a small part of him was affected by her words. Even so, he forced himself to stay focused, blocking out any emotions that could betray him.
“Just focus on moving forward,” he replied, curt but not cold. It was his way of protecting her, of keeping her from letting her guard down too soon.
Long seconds passed that felt like hours. Each pause in the doll’s song brought a brief sense of relief, but every time the music stopped, the danger pulsed in the air again. Dae-ho moved with precise steps, ensuring his body remained a shield between her and that fucking doll.
When they were close to the finish line, the tension in his body was almost suffocating. He could feel the pressure behind him, as if she were holding her breath, waiting for his next move. That’s when he made a decision: he subtly reached his hand back, his fingers searching for hers until he found them.
“When the music starts again, run with me, okay?” he murmured, his tone more of a command than a suggestion.
She didn’t reply, but her hand gripped his firmly—a silent confirmation that she was ready. The song resumed, and without a second thought, Dae-ho pulled her forward with him, sprinting full speed toward the finish line. His heart pounded, not just from the physical exertion but because he knew one wrong move could doom them both.
When they finally crossed to the other side, relief hit them like a wave. She dropped to her knees, gasping for air, while Dae-ho bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. There were no victory cries or triumphant smiles—just the sound of their breathing, mingling with the screams of those still struggling to survive.
When they’d both calmed down a little, their eyes met at last. It was a strange moment, charged with something neither of them could put into words.
“Y/n…” she said finally, breaking the silence as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “My name’s Y/n.”
Dae-ho straightened, still not looking away from her. His voice, when he replied, was softer than usual, as if saying her name was a privilege.
“Kang Dae-ho.”
“Thank you, Dae-ho,” she whispered, her gaze filled with a mix of gratitude and something else—something he wasn’t ready to figure out.
(...)
The massive room, packed with bunk beds stacked to dizzying heights, was enveloped in an eerie silence, broken only by scattered murmurs and the muffled sobs of a few players. The cold lights cast long shadows, making the space feel even more oppressive. Dae-ho, sitting on his bunk, couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was on the highest bed of one of the rows across the dorm, sitting cross-legged with her gaze fixed somewhere on the floor. Her blonde hair fell messily over her shoulders, though it was clear she didn’t care. There was something different about her now, a glow that was no longer there.
Without thinking too much about it, Dae-ho stood up and began climbing the bunks toward her. He didn’t care about the curious glances from the others. He just knew he had to get closer. When he reached her bed, he leaned in carefully so as not to startle her.
“Can I sit here?” he asked, his voice low but gentle.
She looked up, visibly surprised to see him there. She hesitated for a moment but finally nodded, scooting over slightly to make room for him.
Dae-ho sat next to her, observing her quietly. He could see how she nervously fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, twisting and untwisting it, as if she needed something tangible to occupy her restless mind.
“What’s wrong?” he finally asked, his tone direct but tinged with concern.
She sighed, keeping her gaze down, avoiding his.
“I didn’t expect… this,” she murmured, gesturing vaguely at the emptiness around them, as if trying to encompass everything that had happened. “The deaths, the blood… I didn’t think it would be like this.”
Dae-ho waited silently, giving her space to continue.
“I thought they’d just be kids’ games. Harder, sure, but not so… inhuman,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I can’t believe how many people died out there… and I… I just want to leave.”
Her confession hung in the air. Dae-ho watched her in silence, seeing how her strong, determined facade was crumbling. It was hard to process, but he understood exactly how she felt.
“Listen,” he said firmly, turning slightly to face her. “None of us thought it would be like this. We’re all scared, but you survived, okay? You made it through that game. It’s not easy, but if you want to make it out of here alive, you have to keep going.”
She looked at him, her brown eyes glistening with tears she didn’t dare let fall.
“What if I can’t?”
“You can.” he said without hesitation. “And I’ll make sure you do.”
She let out a nervous, almost incredulous laugh.
“Why do you care so much? You barely know me.”
Dae-ho shrugged, though his gaze was intense.
“Why do you trust me so much? You barely know me.” he countered with the same logic.
“I don’t know… something tells me I should,” She said, shrugging as a shy smile crept onto her face.
“Exactly. Something tells us to.” he replied, his tone unwavering.
For a moment, she studied him in silence. Eventually, a small, tired smile formed on her lips.
“Thanks, Dae-ho.” she whispered, her voice softer now.
He nodded and, almost instinctively, placed his large hand over her delicate one, giving it a gentle squeeze of encouragement.
“Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s a new day, and you’ll need to be rested.”
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