dyingofcookies

[dyingofcookies]

JEALOUS

———

Pairing: Thanos x Fem!Reader

Summary: you tried making Thanos jealous by teaming up with Myung-gi during one of the games, he punishes you during lights out.

P-link <3

Warnings: minors DNI (18+), punishment, rough sex, dom! Thanos, sub! Reader, fingering, intercourse, slapping, breeding, Thanos is mean, unprotected sex, let me know if I missed anything.

———

The masked guards stood rigid, their red jumpsuits stark against the sterile white walls of the large room.

Thanos stood among the players, he seemed jittery and in his own world. His lover, y/n was beside him, her hand brushing against his arm in quiet reassurance, but he pulled away, annoyed and tense.

“You’ll stay with me this time,” Thanos muttered, it wasn’t a request.

TEAM GAME. SELECT A PARTNER.

Chaos erupted instantly. The players lunged for allies, shouting names, marking desperate bargains. Y/N’s heartbeat quickened as she glanced at Thanos, knowing he expected her to fall in line beside him like a fan, like she usually did. But then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Myung-gi.

The loan stark stood a few feet away, his sharp gaze scanning the room, his eyes on Jun-hee, the pregnant girl, or the “skank” as Nam-gyu called her. He was hoping she’d pick him, but she was teaming with Dae-ho, leaving Myung-gi stranded.

Myung-gi and Thanos weren’t getting along here after the coin scandal, they despised eachother and have been at each others throats since they got here.

A reckless idea sparked y/n’s mind. If she wanted to get under Thanos’ skin this was the way to do it.

She turned abruptly and strode towards Myung-gi. “You need a partner?”

His brow lifted in surprise, a hesitation. “Aren’t you Thanos’ girl, he’d kill me if I..”

Y/n heard Thanos’ calls behind her and glanced over her shoulder, Nam-gyu had his arm draped around him and Thanos started at her with anger.

Good.

“I’ll take my chances.”

AFTER THE GAME

That night, after the lights dimmed and most of the players asleep, y/n could feel the shadow looming over her before she even turned around.

He flipped her onto her back and pinned her arms above her head with a massive hand before she could react.

“You think you’re clever?” Thanos voice was deceptively calm, but there was an edge to it, a warning, and his hands tightened painfully on her wrists.

Y/n met his gaze, defiant. “It was just a game.”

His grip tightened, making her breath hitch. “You chose him.”

“You still had Nam-gyu,” she whined, squirming under him.

Thanos’ expression darkened, “I had no other choice.”

To her surprise, he loosened his grip on her wrists and placed his free hand on her waist. “You enjoy making me jealous, don’t you?” His fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns against her hip, his touch teasing and possessive.”

“Maybe,” she whispered, tilting her chin up. “You get all broody and it’s kind of cute.”

Thanos hummed, his cross chain dangling in her face as he squeezed her hip hard. “Cute?” He mused. “That’s not the word I’d use for what’s about to happen.”

Without warning, he tossed her over his lap and she kicked. “Thanos!” She whined.

Thanos ignored her pleas and began to take off her pants and panties, leaving her in nothing but her oversized sweater.

He flipped her over onto her back and grabbed her hair, hard, forcing her head back to meet his hungry gaze. He brought his hand to her soaked folds.

“I see you’re enjoying yourself.”

He delivered a firm slap to her clit, causing her to gasp and close her legs.

He tutted, shaking his head as he spread her legs wide, pushing them up to her chest.

“Keep them open, or it’ll be worse for you.

He slapped her clit again and she cried out, but kept her legs open. He hummed in approval, rubbing her clit hard and fast.

She moaned and whimpered, arching her back and struggling keep her legs open. He paused to open her legs again. “Don’t make me have to stop again.”

He resumed his relentless assault on her clit, rubbing merciless circles on your ball of nerves. Y/n moaned and cried, grasping onto his shirt. He chuckled down at her, and he finally stopped after what seemed like forever.

He stood up and took his pants and boxers down, before grabbing her ankles and yanking her to him, spreading her legs wide.

“ If you want to act like a brat, I’ll treat you like one.”

he aligned himself at her entrance without warning and slammed in, hard.

Y/n moaned loud and gripped the sheets. Thanos pumped his hips urgently, grabbing her legs for support, each thrust hitting that delicious spot inside of her.

The bed creaked rhythmically under his vigorous movements. “So fucking tight.”

Y/n’s cries only spurred him on further as he slapped her tits and face, before using her legs as leverage to slam into her even harder.

“This is what you wanted huh?” He moaned and gasped as he pounded into her relentlessly

Y/n could only whine in reply. “Im gonna cum!”

He groaned in reply, gripping her thighs hard enough to leave bruises. “come on, tighten around my cock.”

Y/n came, hard, spilling all over his cock and the sheets below her. He groaned as he came inside of her, not allowing her to close her shaking legs. He immediately bent over and kissed her face and forehead, mumbling praises and how much he loves her.

In the quiet that followed, she understood, she wouldn’t dare tease him like that again.

———

[dyingofcookies]

I'll break it

character: Cho hyun ju X fem!reader

Summary: You manage to stub your toe, and while you think nothing of it...hyun ju is thinking of 99 ways to end that tables life🦑🦑

Warnings: none

You don’t think much of it at first. It’s just a stubbed toe—an unfortunately hard impact against the leg of your coffee table that sends a sharp jolt of pain up your foot. You hiss through your teeth, wobbling slightly as you clutch your foot, waiting for the sting to fade.

Then, you hear Hyun-Ju inhale sharply.

You glance up, and she’s already locked onto the table, staring at it like it personally insulted her entire bloodline.

"I’ll break it."

You blink. "What?"

She doesn’t look at you. Her jaw clenches slightly. "The table."

You stare at her, waiting for the joke. There is no joke. Hyun-Ju is absolutely, completely serious.

"You—Hyun-Ju, it’s a table."

She finally turns to look at you, arms crossed. "And?"

"And… you can’t fight a table."

She doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she assesses the offending piece of furniture like she’s calculating the exact force required to flip it over. And honestly? You’re a little concerned that she actually could.

"You’re hurt," she states plainly, like that justifies everything.

You sigh, shaking your head. "I stubbed my toe. That’s it. I’ll live."

But Hyun-Ju still looks like she wants vengeance. Like the table has personally wronged her by daring to be in your way.

You can’t help it—you laugh. It starts as a snicker, then a full laugh that has you leaning against the very table she’s about to declare war on. Her expression shifts slightly, the corner of her lips twitching upward despite her attempts to stay serious.

"Stop laughing," she mutters, nudging your arm with her knuckle.

"I can’t," you gasp between chuckles. "You were really about to fight my coffee table."

She huffs, but she’s obviously not mad. "Not fight it. Just... make sure it never hurts you again."

You wipe a tear from your eye, still grinning. "By breaking it?"

"If necessary."

You groan, resting your forehead against her shoulder. "You’re impossible."

Hyun-Ju doesn't argue. Instead, she sighs and—without a word—grabs your ankle, lifting your foot slightly to examine your toe. It’s not swollen, but she runs her thumb over it gently before nodding.

"You’ll live," she confirms, echoing your own words.

"Oh, now you believe me?"

She just shrugs. Then, after a pause, she adds, "But if it happens again, I’m throwing the table out."

You shake your head, still laughing, and lean into her just a little bit more. Hyun-Ju, your overprotective menace.

by daring to be in your way. You can’t help it—you laugh. It starts as a snicker, then a full laugh that has you leaning against the very table she’s about to declare war on. Her expression shifts slightly, the corner of her lips twitching upward despite her attempts to stay serious.

"Stop laughing," she mutters, nudging your arm with her knuckle.

"I can’t," you gasp between chuckles.

"You were really about to fight my coffee table." She huffs, but she’s obviously not mad. "

Not fight it. Just... make sure it never hurts you again."

You wipe a tear from your eye, still grinning.

"By breaking it?"

"If necessary."

You groan, resting your forehead against her shoulder. "You’re impossible." Hyun-Ju doesn't argue. Instead, she sighs and—without a word—grabs your ankle, lifting your foot slightly to examine your toe. It’s not swollen, but she runs her thumb over it gently before nodding.

"You’ll live," she confirms, echoing your own words. "Oh, now you believe me?" She just shrugs. Then, after a pause, she adds, "But if it happens again, I’m throwing the table out." You shake your head, still laughing, and lean into her just a little bit more.

🦑🦑🦑

[dyingofcookies]

Can you please write part 2 of yandere headcanons for Jae Jun and yandere headcanons for do yeong?

(If it's comfortable for you can you please write nsfw headcanons for them too?)

Yandere Jeon Jae-Joon, Ha Do-yeong Headcanons

Pairing: Jeon Jae-Joon x reader, Ha Do-yeong x reader (Separate)

Author's note: I had to go back and edit it because I forgot it was a gn reader 😭🙏🏻

Jeon Jae-Joon

Jae-joon is insanely possessive of you. You’re not just his spouse—you’re his everything, and he makes sure the world knows it.

If another man so much as looks at you, Jae-joon is already sizing him up, deciding to beat him senseless.

He doesn’t believe in boundaries when it comes to you. Where you go, who you see, what you do—he wants to know everything.

Jae-joon thrives on control, but he’s not subtle about it. If he wants something from you, he’ll demand it.

He hates when you disobey him or try to push him away—it makes him desperate, and desperation leads to dangerous actions.

If you ever tried to leave him, expect him to hunt you down, drag you back, and make sure you never think of leaving again.

“You’re mine. I don’t care what it takes—you’ll always be mine.”

If he sees someone flirting with you, he will immediately react, whether it’s throwing punches or making sure that person loses everything.

He has zero remorse about ruining lives for your sake. If someone tries to take you from him, they’ll simply disappear.

He’ll remind you that no one else can love you the way he does.

Soft for You Only

You are his only weakness. He can be a monster to the world, but to you? He just wants to be loved.

When you hold him, when you kiss him, he melts. He lives for your affection.

The only time he lets his guard down is when you're with him, safe in his arms.

NSFW

Jae-joon doesn’t hold back in bed.

He’s aggressive, passionate, and absolutely obsessed with making you feel owned.

He grips your hips so tightly they bruise, bites your skin to mark you, and growls into your ear, reminding you that you belong to him.

He hates the idea of anyone else even imagining you this way.

The only name you’ll be moaning is his, and he’ll make sure of that.

He forces eye contact, making you say his name over and over.

After he’s absolutely wrecked you, he pulls you into his arms, running his hands through your hair, pressing soft kisses against your skin.

Ha Do-yeong

Do-yeong isn’t loud about his yandere tendencies—he’s silent, patient, and suffocating.

He watches you closely, controlling every aspect of your life without you realizing it.

You’ll never escape him, not because he’ll chase you, but because he’s already planned so far ahead that there’s nowhere for you to go.

Do-yeong doesn’t rely on threats—he uses guilt, persuasion, and logic to make sure you stay.

“Why would you leave, my love? I’ve given you everything. Are you unhappy?” His tone is gentle, but the message is clear—you can’t leave.

He makes you feel like you need him—even if deep down, you know he’s the one trapping you.

He doesn’t get violent—he doesn’t need to. If someone tries to take you from him, they’ll find their entire life ruined overnight.

He ensures that no matter what, you always end up back in his arms.

“You don’t need to fight me, sweetheart. This is for your own good.”

Do-yeong worships you. You’re his perfect spouse, his greatest treasure.

He doesn’t love you normally—his love is overwhelming, inescapable, and eternal.

No matter what happens, he will never let you go.

NSFW

He takes his time, building you up slowly, whispering how much he loves you, how you’ll never belong to anyone else.

He makes you beg for him. He’ll tease you endlessly, dragging out pleasure until you’re pleading for release, making you say, “I’m yours, only yours.”

He never raises his voice, even in the bedroom. But the way he commands you—low, deep, and unwavering—makes you shiver. “Let me hear you, sweetheart. That’s it….”

He decides when and how you come. He holds your wrists, keeps your legs open, making you take everything he gives you.

He decides when and how you come. He holds your wrists, keeps your legs open, making you take everything he gives you.

He wipes you down gently, kisses your forehead, and holds you close. But his grip is firm, his touch lingering—a silent promise that you’ll never escape him.

Taglist: @petersasteria

[dyingofcookies]

Hello sailor!!!

[dyingofcookies]

I want her all over me 🙂

[dyingofcookies]

You bump into them‼️

[dyingofcookies]

Hey bae♡ can you write about the glory bully characters x quiet female reader?

I know you already did the other one but this one however it's more like female reader is quiet but except she's creepy, stares into your soul type

in this scenario: Park Yeon Jin was the one killed So Hee and thought no one would find out

But when creepy quiet female reader reunited with the bullies, she stares into Yeon Jin's soul and she eerily says "I know it was you who killed her" and left.

Leaving the bullies in stunned, especially leaving Yeon Jin scared

(No need to rush babygirl as always ♡ ̆̈)

Bury A Friend

Pairing: The Glory Bullies x Creepy Quiet Fem Reader

Summary: Yeon-jin’s guilt over a tragic accident she caused resurfaces when a mysterious, silent girl from her past confronts her at a high school reunion, exposing her dark secret and leaving her fearful of the consequences.

Word Count: 1.3k

Author's note: Okay sooo I feel reader isn't as creepy as I wanted her to be.

“Oh, I think I really messed up.” Yeon-jin’s voice trembled over the phone, barely above a whisper. Her hands shook as she gripped the cold edge of the abandoned building, her heart pounding like a drum. “We were being dumb, just messing around on the roof, and something caught on fire.”

Her gaze fell to the still body of So-hee sprawled on the hard, unforgiving floor. The girl’s clothes were charred and torn, smoke still rising faintly from the edges. Yeon-jin’s stomach churned, her throat tightening as she fought back a wave of panic. The weight of what had happened was too much. She didn’t know what to do.

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as her mother’s voice cut through the chaos on the other end of the line.

“There was this girl...” Yeon-jin’s words cracked as she glanced down at the piece of So-hee’s clothing, which was now smoldering. “She started screaming and freaking out and then she… fell. It’s true, I swear! She just—she just… fell.” Her voice broke, but she quickly stifled the sob that threatened to escape.

“We were alone! Just messing around. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” Yeon-jin could feel the panic rising in her chest, suffocating her. “Mom, what do I do now? Huh? Are you there?”

Her mother’s sharp voice sliced through the air, harsh and demanding. “Get a grip, Yeon-jin! First, get away from there. I’ll have Mr. Shin call you right away.”

She could feel the panic draining her strength as she mechanically followed her mother’s instructions. What else could she do? She wasn’t equipped for this, for the mess she had created.

“Stop crying and get it together! Did anyone see you? Any witnesses?”

Yeon-jin glanced around the rooftop, her eyes darting frantically. The space was eerily still. No one. No one was there.

“Uh, no. I don’t think so,” she said, her voice trembling.

“You better make sure! Look around you!”

“I did, Mom. There isn’t anyone here! There’s no witnesses!” she yelled, her voice breaking.

If only she had checked more thoroughly. If only she had been more aware. If only she had seen you standing just beyond the corner, your presence blending into the shadows. You, the girl who never spoke, who never quite fit in with the others. The girl who always watched.

Sunghan High School organized a reunion for its former students. Yeon-jin had been hesitant, not wanting to face anyone, but when she learned that the others were attending, she couldn’t resist. They had to keep up appearances, right? She couldn’t let them see her as weak or scared.

The gymnasium buzzed with chatter, laughter, and the occasional reunion hug. Yeon-jin entered with the same air of confidence she had cultivated, dressed in a sleek black dress that made her feel untouchable. She walked toward the table where the others were already gathered: Sa-ra, Hye-jeong, Jeo-joon, and Myeong-oh.

"Can you believe they set up a high school reunion?" Sa-ra asked, laughing as Yeon-jin approached. Yeon-jin laughed softly, setting her purse down on the table, but her mind was elsewhere.

An hour passed as the others joked and reminisced, but all the while, Yeon-jin couldn’t shake the sense that something was wrong. Her heart started to race when she noticed a quiet, familiar figure standing in the corner of the gym. A presence she couldn’t ignore.

You were there.

Standing alone, like a shadow. Your unnerving gaze locked onto her from across the room. Her breath hitched, and a wave of unease spread through her.

The others didn’t seem to notice the tension mounting in the air. Sa-ra kept talking, oblivious to the growing discomfort around Yeon-jin. But Yeon-jin knew. She recognized you instantly. It was you—the quiet, eerie girl from high school. The one everyone ignored, the one who kept to herself. The one who never said a word, but always watched.

The tension thickened as your gaze never wavered. Not once. It was like you were looking straight through her, like you knew something she had buried deep inside. Yeon-jin’s heart hammered in her chest, her throat tightening.

The conversation around her seemed to fade, replaced by the pounding rhythm of her pulse in her ears. You hadn’t moved. Your eyes never left her. It was like you were studying her, dissecting her every reaction. A shiver ran down Yeon-jin’s spine.

“I think that’s y/n,” Sa-ra said, laughing. The others glanced over, unsure of who you were, but Sa-ra’s voice broke the heavy silence. Yeon-jin wanted to look away but couldn’t.

Hye-jeong, Myeong-oh, and Jeo-joon joined in the conversation, all of them casually commenting on how “awkward” it was to see you back at the reunion. But Yeon-jin didn’t care. She was too busy trying to breathe, trying to ignore the creeping sensation that something was terribly wrong.

And then, it happened.

The gymnasium, once filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter, seemed to quiet as you began to move toward their table. Slowly, as though every step was deliberate, you closed the distance between yourself and the group. The air grew heavier, like a storm was building. Everyone watched you, confused and curious, but also unsure of what to expect.

When you reached their table, you stopped. You didn’t say a word. You simply stood there, your cold, intense gaze still fixed on Yeon-jin. The others fell silent, the tension palpable, as if the very atmosphere around you had changed.

Yeon-jin felt her pulse skyrocket, her breath shallow. She tried to move, to say something, anything, but she couldn’t find her voice. She could only watch as you stood, unmoving, staring at her like she was a mere insect beneath your gaze.

Finally, you spoke. Your voice was low and soft, but it carried the weight of something far darker.

"I know it was you who killed her."

The words were like ice-cold water splashing on her face. Yeon-jin’s world seemed to slow, her body frozen in place as your words echoed in the room.

It wasn’t an accusation. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of undeniable fact. And in that moment, it felt like the world had tilted on its axis.

Yeon-jin’s face went pale. Her stomach churned as fear seeped into every bone in her body. Her eyes flicked around the table, but the others were silent, unsure of what to say. Her pulse hammered in her ears, drowning out everything else.

"You..." Yeon-jin tried to speak, her voice a mere whisper. “You—”

But she couldn’t finish the sentence. Her words were swallowed by her fear.

And then, without another word, you turned and walked away, your presence still hanging in the air long after you had disappeared into the crowd.

Yeon-jin stood there, frozen, as her world shattered around her.

The others looked at each other in stunned silence, unsure of what just happened. None of them dared to speak. Sa-ra’s smile faltered, her previous laughter now a distant memory.

Yeon-jin couldn’t move. Her heart pounded in her chest, her skin cold as ice. You knew. You saw everything. The weight of your gaze still lingered, suffocating her with the knowledge that you were out there, watching, waiting for the right moment to expose her.

The reunion, once filled with warmth and nostalgia, now felt like a nightmare. And Yeon-jin couldn’t shake the feeling that you were out there, lurking in the shadows, ready to bring everything crashing down.

And with that thought, she knew: It wasn’t over. It was just beginning.

And there was nowhere she could hide.

[dyingofcookies]

a chance encounter - a cho hyun-ju x reader fic (part 11)

summary: a story about how you and hyun-ju met and the following years of your relationship. masterlist cw: no use of y/n, reader is afab, life being fucking hard can't my girls get a fucking break, pre squid game, domesticity, slice of life, salesman, wtf was she doing in that field, hyunju is a capricorn. a/n: hello lovelies! got crazy writer’s block while writing this, so do NOT get your hopes up. then got into a crazy spiral while writing thinking ‘omg i’m making so much stuff up, sounds weird’ but then i remembered… it’s literally fanfiction lol anyway, enjoy xx as usual comments are always welcome taglist: @strayteez3staner @dekiruxxx @jeongteen @sunnysurvives @3leni @etta-huracan @honeyhyunju @basoressia @antisocial-aina @googie-jeon @christinamadsen @deernat @vvlwvvy @psychobitchsthings @dikeu-yoiz

part 11. when cards fall, we build

for two years, hyun-ju had been your home. it wasn’t just about love—it was in the way you had shaped each other’s lives, molded the contours of your days to fit together so seamlessly that the thought of being apart felt unnatural. she had once told you, in that quiet, thoughtful way of hers, “i never thought i’d have this. not like this, not with someone like you.” she hadn’t needed to elaborate; you had known exactly what she meant.

you had your own apartments, technically, but they had long since blurred into shared spaces. her sweatshirts lived in your closet, your earrings mysteriously ended up on her dresser, and neither of you knew who had originally bought the vanilla-scented hand cream that now sat in both bathrooms. you borrowed each other’s makeup without asking, left notes in the margins of each other’s books, and it was an unspoken rule that her fridge would always have your favorite yogurt, just like your cabinet would always have her preferred brand of coffee.

your routines had entwined just as naturally. she had introduced you to weight training, and though you still claimed to hate it, you went with her to the gym anyway—mostly for the way she would smirk at you in the mirror and whisper, “one more set, you’ll thank me later.” you booked your nail appointments together, sat side by side at the hair salon flipping through magazines. saturday mornings were for errands, grocery shopping side by side, your carts always ending up with at least two things you didn’t need because “aein, look, it’s cute.” even on the busiest of days, you always found time for each other, whether it was a quiet meal after work or simply falling asleep with your head on her chest, her fingers idly stroking your back.

hyun-ju had never expected this. she had never imagined waking up to someone who kissed her shoulder before getting out of bed, never thought she would come home to someone waiting for her, smiling at her like she was their favorite part of the day. but it had happened, and she had never felt more grateful. she was head over heels, in the way she watched you when you weren’t looking, in the way she always pulled you close like she was afraid you might slip away.

she had never imagined this for herself, not really. for so long, she had been cautious, guarded, always aware of how she was perceived. but with you, she had let herself be. and then, there was her. the version of herself she had kept locked away for so long, the parts of her that had once felt too indulgent, too exposed. she had always been careful, deliberate, measured in her presence. but with you? with you, she had begun to relax into herself again.

she started dressing the way she truly wanted—not just comfortable, but expressive. she let herself enjoy the way she looked, the way she felt in her own skin. you never commented on the shift outright, never made a big deal out of it—but the way your eyes lit up every time, the way your fingers would trace the collar of her shirt and murmur, “you look so good, hyun-ju,” was enough to make her feel like she was glowing.

and then, there was the dancing.

hyun-ju didn’t dance. at least, that was what she had always claimed. too self-conscious, too aware of her body, of the way people watched, judged. but one night, after too much alcohol, after you had pulled her by the hands and twirled her around the living room, she had caved. and after that? it had become a thing. behind closed doors, with only you, she let herself move freely—laughing as you made her spin, rolling her eyes as you made her sway to whatever song was playing, letting herself press close when the music slowed. she still grumbled about it, still claimed it was your thing, not hers, but you both knew the truth.

she was happy. happier than she ever remembered being.

with you, she didn’t have to think so hard. she didn’t have to weigh every action, didn’t have to anticipate every reaction. she could just be, and for someone like her, someone who had spent so much of her life trying to navigate the world carefully, that was everything.

she never told you all of this outright, never put it into words the way you might, but she showed you in the way she touched you, the way she always pulled you close in sleep, the way she whispered your name like it was something sacred. “i never thought i’d have this,” she had admitted once, voice barely above a whisper in the dark. “not like this.”

and now, she couldn’t imagine being without it. you belonged to each other, in every possible way.

everything happened so fast. in the last six months, your life had turned completely upside down. it began with a desperate call from your mother one saturday morning in march. you had been sitting at hyun-ju’s small kitchen table, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the warmth of sunlight streaming through the window. breakfast was simple but comforting—scrambled eggs, toast, and jam you’d bought from a street vendor the week before.

your phone buzzed, and when you saw your mom’s name on the screen, a chill ran through you. her voice was frantic, the words tumbling out in a rush: your father had collapsed at the factory and was being rushed to the er.

your fork clattered onto your plate as you scrambled to stand. your hands shook as you tried to grab your bag, your mind already spinning with worst-case scenarios. hyun-ju was by your side in an instant, her hands on your arms, steadying you. “aein, breathe,” she said softly, her voice grounding. “i’ll drive you.”

the drive to the hospital passed in a blur. hyun-ju kept one hand on the wheel and the other on your knee, her touch grounding as your mind raced through worst-case scenarios.

at the hospital, she held you tight in the waiting area, her arms wrapped securely around you as you sobbed into her shirt. she didn’t flinch when your tears soaked through the fabric. her hand moved in slow circles on your back, her voice a quiet murmur in your ear. “he’ll be okay,” she whispered, though you could feel her own fear in the way her grip tightened around you.

your father survived. it was a heart attack, but the doctors said he’d need medication for the rest of his life. you drained your savings to pay for his hospital stay, the medicine, and the endless tests they had to run.

but he didn’t get better. the heart attack left him with heart failure, and soon, he needed a pacemaker. that meant more tests, surgery, and the device itself—each expense piling higher than the last. this time, there were no savings left to drain. you had to go to the bank, taking out a loan you prayed you could repay in small installments.

but what you never expected was to lose your job. the office felt different when you walked in that morning—quieter, heavier, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. you’d been back for only two days after taking time off to care for your father, but you could already feel the strain in the air. deadlines loomed, and your desk was a chaotic mess of files and unfinished designs. you’d spent the last two nights working late to catch up, but it wasn’t enough.

when the email from hr landed in your inbox, asking you to come to the head manager’s office, your stomach dropped. the walk to the office felt interminable. every step echoed in your ears, and when you opened the door, the sight of three people waiting for you confirmed your worst fears.

the head manager sat at the center of the table, his hands folded neatly in front of him. your direct boss sat to his right, her gaze fixed firmly on the surface of the table. the hr representative sat to the left, her face carefully neutral.

“please, have a seat,” the head manager said, gesturing to the chair across from them. you sat down, your hands gripping the edge of the chair to steady yourself.

the head manager began with a practiced speech, his tone polished but impersonal. he praised your skills, your creativity, your contributions to the agency. “you’ve been an invaluable member of the team,” he said, as if that softened the blow of what was coming next.

“but,” he continued, his tone shifting, “your recent absence has caused significant disruptions. your projects had to be reassigned, which placed an undue burden on your colleagues.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but he held up a hand to stop you.

“we understand that your reasons for taking time off were personal and important,” he said. “but the reality is that the agency cannot afford this level of unpredictability.”

“i’ll make it up,” you said quickly, your voice trembling. “i’ll take on extra projects, whatever it takes. just give me a chance.”

the head manager sighed, glancing at the hr representative. “it’s not just about the workload. there have also been concerns raised about… personal choices.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and pointed. your stomach churned, and your eyes darted to your direct boss. she still wouldn’t look at you.

you knew exactly what he meant. your relationship with hyun-ju wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t something you flaunted either. a photo of the two of you sat on your desk, and you’d mentioned her in passing to colleagues. apparently, that was enough.

“i see,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible.

the rest of the meeting passed in a blur. by the time you walked out, clutching the severance paperwork in your trembling hands, tears were already spilling down your cheeks.

back at your desk, you began packing your things. your wacom tablet, your paper blocks, pens and markers. a small succulent your colleagues had given you on your first day and you were very proud of keeping alive for years. the framed photo of you and hyun-ju, her arms wrapped around you, both of you smiling like nothing in the world could touch you.

your friends gathered around you, their hugs and words of encouragement breaking what little composure you had left. ha-neul sobbed openly, clutching your arm. “i’m quitting,” she declared, her voice thick with emotion. “if they’re going to treat you like this, i’m done.”

“don’t be absurd,” you said, forcing a weak smile as you wiped her tears. “you have a facelift to pay for, remember?”

she let out a watery laugh, but the pain in her eyes mirrored your own.

meanwhile, hyun-ju found work as a shooting range instructor in gwangmyeong. she excelled at it, her ease with firearms both impressive and a little unnerving. she’d taken you to the range once, laughing when the gun’s recoil sent you stumbling. she made it look effortless, her arm steady as she hit the target with precision every time.

weeks later, the weight of your dismissal still lingered. freelance jobs trickled in, thanks to the kindness of your friends and ex-boss, but the debt loomed like a shadow over everything. your father’s medical expenses were relentless, and the loan payments barely made a dent.

hyun-ju wasn’t faring much better. her job paid decently, but her own debt was staggering. ₩330 million—years of hormone treatments, surgeries, and the recovery periods that kept her out of work. she tried to hide her stress from you, but you saw it in the way her shoulders slumped after long days and the way she stared at her bank statements for far too long.

one evening, as you worked at your desk, you heard her sigh heavily from the bed behind you. “i’m thinking about moving to gwangmyeong,” she said.

you turned to see her sprawled across your mattress, still in her uniform, her arm draped over her eyes.

“i’m sorry?”

she lifted her arm, exhaustion clear in her face. “i can’t keep doing this, aein. the commute is killing me. it’s too much.” she had recently sold her car to help paying her debt and was taking the bus back and forth everyday.

her voice was steady, but you could hear the strain beneath it. you nodded, though the thought of her moving farther away made your chest tighten. “i get it. makes sense.”

you turned back to your computer, pretending to focus on the screen.

“i’ve already started looking,” she said.

that caught your attention. you frowned, glancing back at her again. “you have?”

she sat up, her expression unreadable. “i found a small house. it’s two stories—tiny, but enough. one bedroom, one bathroom. there’s even a little front yard.”

you hummed in response, trying to sound indifferent, though a knot of sadness twisted in your stomach. had she been planning this without you? not that she couldn’t, but it’d be nice to know.

hyun-ju stood and walked over to you, her footsteps soft on the floor. she stopped behind you, her hands settling on your shoulders. “and there’s a space by the window for a desk. natural light, just like you love.”

her words were so careful, so deliberate, that you finally turned to look at her.

“let’s move in together,” she said suddenly, her voice steady but her eyes searching for yours.

“what?” you asked, startled.

“let’s move in together,” she repeated, her hands tightening on your shoulders. “you work from home, and i work there. it makes sense. we’ve been spending almost all our time together anyway.”

you opened your mouth to respond, but she kept going, her words tumbling out in a nervous rush. “i’ve done the math. we’d save so much money. and i know it’s farther from your parents, but you can still visit them every week. i’ll make sure of it. there’s enough space for all your things. and it’s not perfect, it’s not thailand, but we’ll make it work. together.”

“hyun-ju,” you said softly, placing your hands over hers.

her ramble came to an abrupt stop, her eyes wide and uncertain.

“yes,” you said, your voice steady.

“yes?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

“yes!” you said again, laughing as she pulled you to your feet and wrapped her arms around you. she lifted you effortlessly, spinning you around as you squealed in surprise.

for a moment, the weight of debt and worry melted away, replaced by the simple joy of knowing you’d face it together.

everything had unraveled so quickly, and now, three months later, you could barely recognize the life you used to have.

the week after you and hyun-ju decided to move in together, you gave up the lease on your apartment and put your car up to sale as well—it had been sitting with little to no use for a while since you lost your job. packing up your things felt bittersweet—each item carefully folded or boxed carried memories of independence, of a life you’d built on your own. ha-neul, of course, made the biggest fuss when you told her. “what do you mean you’re leaving seoul?” she wailed, clutching her chest dramatically. “you can’t just abandon me in this overpriced hellhole!”

but she came around, as she always did, even helping you sort through your furniture. deciding what to keep and what to sell was a delicate negotiation between you and hyun-ju, with plenty of compromises along the way. your parents, surprisingly, took the news well. they had been slowly warming up to the idea of having a lesbian daughter, and now your mother even asked about hyun-ju and your possible future babies whenever you visited. “how’s our hyun-ju doing?” she’d say, sending her greetings over the phone.

despite the challenges, the two of you settled into your new home with a sense of cautious optimism. the house was small, and finding space for both your belongings required a lot of planning—and a few arguments—but it worked. there were moments of quiet joy that made all the struggles worthwhile: sharing coffee on the front steps in the morning, cooking dinner together in the tiny kitchen, and falling asleep tangled in each other’s arms at the end of a long day.

but those moments couldn’t erase the reality of your financial situation.

the bills arrived like clockwork, along with the dunning letters that seemed to mock you every month. hyun-ju’s last surgery, breast implants six months ago, had been a long-awaited milestone for her. you’d told her she was perfect the way she was, but she wanted this for herself, and you supported her wholeheartedly. still, it left her with little room to help with your own growing debt.

at night, when the two of you wound down from your days, hyun-ju sometimes voiced her frustrations in whispers. “i hate this,” she’d say, her arms wrapped tightly around you. “i hate that we’re stuck like this.”

when you tried to reassure her, she’d shake her head, guilt clouding her eyes. “you lost your job because of me. if it weren’t for—”

“stop,” you’d interrupt, pulling her closer. “don’t say that. i’d choose you over any job, any day.”

but the truth was, it was hard. some weeks, you scraped by—barely covering rent, utilities, internet, transportation, food, your father’s insurance, hyun-ju’s insurance, her hormones and supplements, and the surprise expenses that always seemed to crop up. by july 2024, your combined debt had reached a staggering ₩455 million.

*

on september 10th, you found yourself at a bus stop in seoul, waiting for the bus to take you home after visiting your family. the air at the bus stop was cool but not biting, a gentle reminder that autumn was on its way. you adjusted your cardigan, pulling it tighter around you as you sat on the cold metal bench. beside you, the large reusable bag filled with pots of homemade food from your mom was a comforting presence. she’d insisted on packing enough to last a week—soups, stews, and side dishes carefully labeled and stacked.

the street was quiet, eerily so. the faint hum of distant traffic was the only sound, and the empty road stretched out before you like an endless void. you glanced at your phone, checking the bus schedule. ten more minutes.

that was when you noticed him.

he seemed to materialize out of nowhere, stepping into the glow of the streetlight with an air of purpose. his suit was immaculate, a tailored gray that clung perfectly to his frame. his black shoes gleamed like polished obsidian, and his hair was parted and slicked back without a single strand out of place. in his hand, he carried a sleek black case.

he stopped a few feet away, his posture unnervingly still, and smiled at you. it wasn’t a warm smile—it was toothless and hollow, like a mask of politeness stretched over something much darker.

“good evening,” he said, his voice smooth and practiced, like a salesman greeting a potential client.

you blinked, caught off guard. “good evening,” you replied cautiously, your voice tinged with unease. “look, i respect your faith, but i’m not interested.”

he chuckled softly, the sound low and almost amused. “oh, i’m not here to preach.”

you frowned, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. “then what do you want?”

he took a step closer, his hands resting lightly on the handle of his case. “i want to help you.”

you scoffed, glancing back at the road. still no sign of the bus. “help me?”

he said your name and your heart stopped.

“w-what?” you stammered, your head snapping toward him. “how do you know my name?”

the man’s smile widened—calm, practiced, a predator’s grin masquerading as polite amusement. it didn’t reach his eyes.

“oh, i know a lot about you.”

the air in your lungs turned to stone. your fingers twitched at your sides.

“what…?” the word barely stumbled out.

he adjusted his cufflinks, as if this was just another business transaction, as if he wasn’t about to peel back the layers of your life with surgical precision. “your name. your age. twenty-eight, right? born and raised in mangu-dong.” he tilted his head, watching you closely, savoring the way your muscles tensed. “smart girl. seoul national university, college of fine arts. design major. graduated with debt so steep it followed you like a shadow for years. you finally managed to pay it off—not that it helped much in the grand scheme of things, did it?”

your stomach twisted, the words sinking into you, anchoring you to the chair.

“i know about your parents. your mother is a seamstress. still working herself to the bone for so little, still ignoring the pain in her hands because she can’t afford to stop. and your father, the factory worker with a heart that turned against him before he could ever retire. the pacemaker alone cost ₩38 million.that hospital? dongguk university hospital? they love seeing his name on their patient list, don’t they?”

a slow, barely-there chuckle left him, as if this was amusing. as if your father’s failing heart was just another line on a page.

“and then,” he continued, ever so smoothly, “there’s the agency job. hanul creative. your fresh start. your dream, wasn’t it?” his eyes flickered with something like delight when you flinched. “you were good—no, you were great. but that didn’t matter in the end, did it?because talent doesn’t mean anything when the people above you decide you’re wrong for their ‘company image.’”

your mouth felt dry. you swallowed, hard.

“and then there’s her.”

the world tilted.

“cho hyun-ju.” The way he said her name—slow, deliberate—sent a spike of ice through your chest. “Your dear, your girl.” his lips curled, relishing the way your breath hitched. “two years together, six months in that tiny shoebox you call 'home' in gwangmyeong. the life you were trying so hard to build, despite everything crumbling around you.”

he let the silence stretch, his smile sharpening as he watched the war play out behind your eyes.

“she’s drowning too, isn’t she?” he mused, almost pitying. almost. “all that military service, all those years, and what does she have to show for it? a pension that barely scratches the surface of her debts? the loans she took out when she left? a future, maybe?” he exhaled, as if it was exhausting just talking about it. “i know she tried. tried to take the burden off your shoulders. but in the end… it was never enough.”

your throat burned. you felt exposed, gutted, like he had reached into your chest and dragged your ribs apart.

“h-how…” the question barely formed, your voice cracking under its own weight. “how do you know all this?”

the salesman tilted his head, the faintest ghost of amusement dancing in his gaze. “ah, now that’s the wrong question.” he leaned forward, voice lowering to something smooth, something dangerous. “it doesn’t matter how i know.” his fingers tapped against the briefcase beside him, rhythmic, calculated. “what matters… is that i have a proposal for you.”

he crouched slightly, setting the black case on the ground. your mind raced. was there a weapon inside? was he going to rob you? kill you?

you tensed, ready to run, but when he opened the case, there were no weapons—just two square tiles of ddakji and stacks of 50,000 bills.

“i’m sure you’ve played before,” he said, holding them up with a faint smile. “let’s play a few rounds. each time you win, i’ll pay you ₩100,000.”

you stared at him, your brow furrowing. “i don’t have any money to play with.”

“you can pay with your body,” he said matter-of-factly.

your stomach churned, and you recoiled. he must have seen the disgust on your face because he chuckled again. “not like that. if you lose, i slap your face. simple as that.”

the thought of ₩100,000—real, tangible money—made you pause. you could buy groceries with that. pay a bill. maybe even have something left over.

reluctantly, you took the blue tile.

“good choice,” he said, tossing the red tile onto the ground.

you threw your tile, trying to remember the strategies you’d used as a child. it spun through the air but landed flat, barely moving the red tile.

the man smiled, crouching to pick up his tile. with a practiced flick of his wrist, he sent it flying, and it flipped your tile effortlessly.

before you could react, his hand connected with your cheek in a sharp, stinging slap. your head snapped to the side, your ear ringing as you stumbled back.

the shame burned almost as much as the slap itself.

“again,” you said, your voice trembling.

the next round, you won. he handed you two crisp bills, and you stared at it, half-expecting it to dissolve in your hand. but it was real.

you played several more rounds, losing three and winning ₩700,000. each slap left your cheek burning, but the weight of the money in your hand kept you going.

finally, the man packed up his tiles, his movements calm and deliberate. “you’re good at this,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “you have potential.”

he handed you a small brown card. one side bore three symbols—a circle, a square, and a triangle. the other side had a single phone number.

“call this number,” he said, his voice almost kind. “you won’t regret it.”

you stared at the card, your heart racing. “who are you?”

“i’m just a messenger,” he replied, his toothless smile returning. “oh, look. there’s your bus.”

you turned, and sure enough, the bus was pulling up to the curb. you grabbed your bag and rushed to board, your hands trembling.

as you sat by the window, clutching the card, you looked back at the bus stop. the man was gone. but the sting on your cheek, the weight of the money in your pocket, and the card in your hand told you he had been very real.

*

you decided not to tell hyun-ju about the encounter.

you knew her too well—she’d worry, and get upset. the last thing you needed was for her to add another burden to her already heavy load. when she noticed the redness on your cheek that night, her eyes narrowed with concern.

“what happened here?” she asked, brushing her fingers gently over the tender skin.

“oh, i tripped,” you said quickly, offering a sheepish smile. “i’m so clumsy.”

her brows knit together, and for a moment, you thought she might press further. but instead, she sighed, shaking her head as she grabbed an ice pack from the freezer. “you need to be more careful,” she said softly, holding it to your cheek.

you winced at the cold but didn’t protest. her eyes lingered on you, doubtful but unwilling to push.

three days later, the secret unraveled.

you were working at your desk when you heard hyun-ju’s voice call your name from upstairs.

“yes, aein?” you called back, standing and making your way to the bedroom.

when you reached the doorway, you saw her holding the black jeans you’d worn on your trip to seoul. her other hand held the small brown card, its sharp edges catching the light.

your breath hitched.

she turned to you, her expression unreadable as she held up the card. “what’s this?”

“i can explain—” you started, but the words faltered as she walked past you.

you turned, watching as she went to her side of the wardrobe. she opened a drawer, rummaging for a moment before pulling something out. when she turned back, your heart nearly stopped.

she was holding an identical card.

“when?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“last month,” she said, her tone steady but low. “when you spent the weekend at ha-neul's. i was leaving work. and you?”

“when i went to seoul this week,” you replied.

she nodded, her gaze dropping to the cards in her hands. “have you called?”

“no,” she admitted. “have you?”

you shook your head. “no. but i’ve thought about it.”

you sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. the weight of the past few days pressed down on you as you tried to gather your thoughts. hyun-ju joined you, sitting close enough that your knees touched. she handed you your card, her fingers brushing against yours.

“i’ve thought about it too,” she confessed, biting her lip. “i made ₩300,000. how much did you make?”

“₩700,000,” you said, letting out a soft chuckle, and getting her card from her hands. “i put it in the savings account.”

her eyes widened. “that’s a lot. good. that’s good. i used mine to pay off an installment at the bank.”

you turned the cards over in your hands, comparing them. the symbols on the front were identical, but the numbers on the back were different. “they’re different numbers,” you noted, holding them up for her to see.

hyun-ju leaned closer, her eyes narrowing as she studied them. “we made ₩1 million together just playing ddakji,” she murmured. her gaze shifted to yours, her expression a mix of curiosity and apprehension. “what do you think it’s about?”

“i don’t know,” you admitted, your voice low. “but he knew everything about me—my name, my debt, my father. he even knew about you.”

hyun-ju’s jaw tightened. “the man who approached you… was he wearing a suit?”

you nodded and she sighed. “he knew about you too. he said there’d be a lot more where that came from.”

the room fell silent for a moment, the weight of unspoken possibilities hanging between you.

“what if we call?” you suggested tentatively. “just to… see what they say.”

hyun-ju hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. then she nodded. “okay. let’s call.”

you ran downstairs to grab your phone, your heart pounding as you climbed back up. sitting beside hyun-ju on the bed, you dialed the number on your card and hit speaker.

the phone rang once before a deep, robotic voice answered.

“say your name and birthday.”

you swallowed hard and replied.

“welcome. be at cheolmangsan park at 9 p.m. on october 30th.”

the line went dead.

hyun-ju stared at the phone, her brows furrowing. she grabbed hers and quickly dialed the number on her card.

the same voice answered.

“say your name and birthday.”

“cho hyun-ju, december 27th, 1991.” she said, her voice steady despite the tension in her shoulders.

“welcome. be at dogonaegogae trail at 9 p.m. on october 30th.”

the call ended abruptly.

“two different places,” you murmured, turning the cards over in your hands. “the same time and day.”

hyun-ju’s gaze was fixed on the cards, her expression unreadable. “what do you think is going to happen?”

you shook your head, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. “i guess we’ll find out.”

hyun-ju turned to you, her eyes softening as she leaned in. her lips brushed against yours in a kiss that was both tender and grounding, a silent reassurance that whatever lay ahead, you’d face it together.

now that hyun-ju found the card, her sharp intuition pieced together parts of the story you hadn’t shared.

when you told her you’d tripped, she didn’t press you that night. but as she held the ice pack to your cheek, her eyes lingered on you, scrutinizing the redness. “that’s an odd place for a fall,” she’d said softly, almost to herself. you’d brushed it off, smiling through the ache in your cheek and the guilt bubbling in your chest.

now, as the two of you sat on the bed with the cards in hand, you could feel the tension radiating from her.

“i knew you were lying,” hyun-ju said suddenly, her voice quiet but firm.

you froze, your fingers tightening around the card. “what?”

“about tripping,” she clarified, her gaze steady. “i didn’t push because i thought you’d tell me when you were ready. but now…” she held up her card. “now i know why you didn’t.”

you sighed, guilt settling heavily on your shoulders. “i didn’t want to worry you,” you admitted. “i thought if i told you, you’d try to find him or—”

“of course i’d try to find him,” she interrupted, her voice tinged with frustration. “you came home with a red cheek and a lie, and i knew something wasn’t right. i just didn’t think it’d be this.”

her tone softened as she looked down at the card in her hand. “when he slapped me, i didn’t expect it. it wasn’t just the pain—it was the humiliation. it felt… calculated. like he knew exactly how to make you feel powerless.”

you reached for her hand, intertwining your fingers. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you. i just… i didn’t want to make things harder for you.”

hyun-ju squeezed your hand, her lips pressing into a thin line. “i get it. but we’re in this together, okay? no more hiding things like this.”

you nodded, the weight of her words settling in your chest.

the next few days were a blur of restless energy and unanswered questions.

you both tried searching for any clues about the cards, the symbols, or the phone numbers. late at night, you sat side by side on the couch, your laptops open as you scoured forums and social media.

“try searching the symbols,” hyun-ju suggested, her brow furrowed as she typed furiously.

you typed “circle square triangle card korea” into the search bar, hoping for something—anything—that would shed light on what you’d gotten yourselves into. the results were sparse, mostly unrelated posts about geometry or design.

“nothing,” you muttered, leaning back with a frustrated sigh.

hyun-ju let out a soft hum of agreement, her eyes scanning the screen in front of her. “it’s like it doesn’t exist,” she said, her voice tinged with unease.

occasionally, you’d stumble across a vague post or comment about “invitations” or “games,” but they were always cryptic and unhelpful. one post on an obscure forum mentioned a man in a suit handing out cards, but the thread was abandoned, with no replies or follow-ups.

“it’s like chasing shadows,” hyun-ju said one night, closing her laptop with a sigh.

despite the dead ends, the cards remained a constant presence, sitting on the coffee table like silent witnesses to your growing anxiety.

in the quiet moments, the weight of what might happen began to creep in.

“what if it’s dangerous?” hyun-ju asked one evening, her voice barely above a whisper.

you glanced at her, surprised by the vulnerability in her tone. hyun-ju was rarely one to admit fear, her years in the military giving her an air of steady confidence.

“i’ve thought about that,” you admitted. “but… what if it’s not? what if it’s the answer we’ve been looking for?”

hyun-ju didn’t reply immediately, her gaze fixed on the card in her hand. “it’s just… we’re already so far in debt. if this goes wrong, it could ruin everything.”

you reached for her, pulling her into your arms. “we don’t have to do this,” you said softly. “we can just throw the cards away and forget this ever happened.”

hyun-ju leaned into you, her head resting on your shoulder. “but what if it’s our way out?” she whispered.

the question hung in the air, unanswered.

the days leading up to october 30th felt both excruciatingly slow and suffocatingly fast. time moved like molasses when you tried to distract yourself with work or chores, yet every time you glanced at the calendar, the date seemed closer than it had any right to be.

*

on the morning of october 30th, the tension was palpable.

you spent the day trying to focus on work, but your mind kept drifting to the card sitting on the table. every time you glanced at the clock, your stomach churned.

hyun-ju was quieter than usual, her movements deliberate as she went about her day. when she caught you staring at her, she gave you a small, reassuring smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

by evening, the two of you were ready to leave. hyun-ju adjusted the strap of her bag, her expression unreadable. “are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice steady but low.

you nodded, clutching the card in your hand. “i am if you are.”

she reached out, her fingers brushing against yours. “whatever happens, we do this together. okay?”

“okay,” you replied, squeezing her hand.

the night air was cool, carrying with it the faint scent of autumn leaves and damp earth. you and hyun-ju stood at the edge of your small front yard, the cards tucked safely into your pockets. the house behind you, your shared sanctuary, seemed so much smaller now, dwarfed by the enormity of what you were about to do.

hyun-ju reached out, her fingers brushing against yours before clasping your hand firmly. her grip was warm, grounding you in the moment.

“you call me, no matter what,” you said, your voice steady despite the unease bubbling in your chest.

she nodded, her dark eyes fixed on yours. “sure. you call me too.”

the two of you lingered, neither willing to let go just yet. when she pulled you into a tight embrace, you melted into her arms, the familiar scent of her and the warmth of her body momentarily easing the tension.

hyun-ju tilted her head down, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, as if she were trying to pour every unspoken word into that single moment. when you finally pulled apart, her hand lingered on your cheek.

“we’ll be okay,” she said softly.

you nodded, not trusting your voice.

then, with a shared glance that held both fear and determination, you turned and began walking in opposite directions. the weight of her absence hit you immediately, but you resisted the urge to look back.

*

you arrived at cheolmangsan park fifteen minutes early, the chill in the air doing little to calm your nerves. the park was eerily quiet, the usual hum of city life replaced by an oppressive stillness. you paced along the path, your hands shoved deep into your pockets as you tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach.

unable to bear the silence any longer, you pulled out your phone and called hyun-ju.

“hello?” she answered on the first ring, her voice steady but tinged with tension.

“are you there yet?” you asked, your breath visible in the cool air.

“i’ve been here for a few minutes,” she replied. “dogonaegogae trail is just as creepy as it sounds.”

you let out a soft laugh, though it felt hollow. “i hate this.”

“me too,” she admitted. “but we’re here now.”

the two of you talked quietly, your voices filling the void as you tried to reassure each other. the conversation was a lifeline, a thread connecting you across the city.

then, headlights cut through the darkness, and you turned to see a black van pulling up to the curb.

“there’s a van here,” you said, your heart pounding.

“same here,” hyun-ju replied. her voice grew quieter. “it’s stopping.”

“so is mine,” you said, your grip tightening on the phone.

the van’s door slid open, and a voice crackled through a speaker inside. “enter.”

you hesitated, your pulse racing.

“i think… i think this is it,” hyun-ju said.

you swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. “be careful, okay?”

“you too,” she said softly. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you replied, your voice breaking slightly.

the line went dead.

you slipped your phone into your pocket and stepped toward the van, your legs feeling like lead. the interior was dark, the faint glow of a light casting long shadows across the seats.

as you climbed in, your eyes landed on a man slumped in the seat ahead of you, his mouth open and his head resting against the window. he wasn’t moving.

“what… what’s happening?” you asked, your voice trembling. you reached for the door, but it wouldn’t budge. panic set in, your breaths coming faster as you fumbled for your phone.

before you could dial hyun-ju’s number, a faint hiss filled the air. you turned just in time to see a small pig-shaped sculpture on the dashboard release a spray of gas.

your vision blurred, your limbs growing heavy as you struggled to stay conscious. “no… wait…” you mumbled, your body slumping against the seat.

[dyingofcookies]

a letter to Juliet

A/N: this is short I'm sorry, I just wanted to get something out cause I have major writers block right now 😭

summery: love letter Hyun-Ju wrote to reader.

warning: extreme fluff, use of (y/n), use of the term "sweet girl"

______________________________________________________________

Dear (y/n),

I have no idea if I'm even gonna let you read this or not, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to write it anyways.

I love you (y/n), more than anything. You've been nothing but kind to me since the moment we met, even if I haven't always deserved it. You mean so much to me and even through my worst you've only seen good, I have no idea how but you do, and I will always admire that about you.

you make me wanna be the best version of myself, someone who you can rely on, someone who can protect you from all the hurt in this world. You're like a precious gemstone I just wanna protect and admire.

I can't express with much words how much I love you, but I can say for certain I see a peaceful future with you sweet girl. I see a future were we can move to Thailand together, get a small house, maybe even kids, but only if you want them, but most of all, I see a future where I can be your wife.

If I do ever let this letter see the light of day, just know I love you (y/n), forever and always..

Sincerely, Cho Hyun-Ju.

[dyingofcookies]

🤤

Hyun-ju look-alike contest in my bed tonight!

I need her so bad it's not even funny!

[dyingofcookies]

🥳 whooo!

Happy Birthday, Park Sung-Hoon!

40!

[dyingofcookies]

I can, actually see them text like this

[dyingofcookies]

I'm not in control anymore...

[dyingofcookies]

Hi! Can I please request Ha Do-yeong and Jeon Jae-jun falling in love with the same reader? She is Moon Dong-eun's friend and helped her in getting her revenge. So she started working at jae jun's shop / do yeong's company. When she met them, both fell in love with her, become obsessed with her and gets jealous of each other.

Caught in Between

Pairing: Ha Do-yeong x Reader, Jeon Jae-jun x Reader

Since JaeJun was not really invested in the shop I thought her working in the golf club would be better..

You never expected to get tangled up in a love triangle between two men who were as different as fire and ice. But maybe that was inevitable.

After all, you had helped Moon Dong-eun in her revenge, tearing down the powerful people who once thought themselves untouchable. You had seen the cracks in their carefully built lives, the destruction that followed.

And yet, here you were, working at Jeon Jae-jun’s golf club, a place where wealth and arrogance mixed like whiskey and ice.

The first time you met Jae-jun, he had leaned against the counter, a cocky smirk on his lips “Didn’t expect someone like you here,” he had mused, looking you up and down, eyes filled with something far too dangerous to be casual interest. “Are you here to keep an eye on me? Or did you just miss me?”

You had scoffed. “I think you’re confusing me with someone who actually enjoys your company.” He had laughed—really laughed—and from that moment on, he made it his mission to get under your skin.

But then, there was Ha Do-yeong.

One day, you were cleaning up after a long shift, and the next, you turned around to find him standing there—watching you.

He didn’t play games like Jae-jun. He didn’t smirk or flirt outright. He simply studied you, eyes calculating, as if trying to figure you out before making a move.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said one evening, voice low, unreadable.

You wiped your hands on a towel, meeting his gaze. “Neither did I.” He stepped closer, slow and deliberate. “And yet… here we are.”

Obsession is a dangerous thing.

Jae-jun was bold about it. He liked having you around, liked the way your presence irritated Do-yeong, liked the way you challenged him instead of falling at his feet.

“You like me,” he teased one afternoon, cornering you in the hallway, arms braced against the wall beside your head.

You arched a brow. “You wish.”

He leaned in, breath fanning against your cheek. “You don’t have to admit it. I already know.”

Do-yeong was quieter in his obsession, but it ran just as deep.

You caught it in the way he watched you, how his hand would linger when he passed you something, how his usually composed expression would darken every time he caught Jae-jun getting too close.

One evening, after closing, you found yourself alone with him outside the club. The air was thick with something unspoken, something heavy.

“Why are you here?” you asked, crossing your arms.

He exhaled, gaze sharp. “Because I don’t like the idea of you being around him.”

Your heart skipped. “That’s not for you to decide.”

His jaw tightened. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t change the way I feel.”

And so it continued—a silent war between them with you caught in the middle.

Jae-jun would pull you into his world, filled with luxury, reckless flirting, and the kind of passion that threatened to consume everything in its path.

Do-yeong would ground you, offering quiet intensity, lingering glances, and a stability that felt far more dangerous than recklessness.

You knew you couldn’t have them both.

But you weren’t ready to choose.

Not yet.

[dyingofcookies]

Hi! Can I please request Ha Do-yeong and Jeon Jae-jun falling in love with the same reader? She is Moon Dong-eun's friend and helped her in getting her revenge. So she started working at jae jun's shop / do yeong's company. When she met them, both fell in love with her, become obsessed with her and gets jealous of each other.

Caught in Between

Pairing: Ha Do-yeong x Reader, Jeon Jae-jun x Reader

Since JaeJun was not really invested in the shop I thought her working in the golf club would be better..

You never expected to get tangled up in a love triangle between two men who were as different as fire and ice. But maybe that was inevitable.

After all, you had helped Moon Dong-eun in her revenge, tearing down the powerful people who once thought themselves untouchable. You had seen the cracks in their carefully built lives, the destruction that followed.

And yet, here you were, working at Jeon Jae-jun’s golf club, a place where wealth and arrogance mixed like whiskey and ice.

The first time you met Jae-jun, he had leaned against the counter, a cocky smirk on his lips “Didn’t expect someone like you here,” he had mused, looking you up and down, eyes filled with something far too dangerous to be casual interest. “Are you here to keep an eye on me? Or did you just miss me?”

You had scoffed. “I think you’re confusing me with someone who actually enjoys your company.” He had laughed—really laughed—and from that moment on, he made it his mission to get under your skin.

But then, there was Ha Do-yeong.

One day, you were cleaning up after a long shift, and the next, you turned around to find him standing there—watching you.

He didn’t play games like Jae-jun. He didn’t smirk or flirt outright. He simply studied you, eyes calculating, as if trying to figure you out before making a move.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said one evening, voice low, unreadable.

You wiped your hands on a towel, meeting his gaze. “Neither did I.” He stepped closer, slow and deliberate. “And yet… here we are.”

Obsession is a dangerous thing.

Jae-jun was bold about it. He liked having you around, liked the way your presence irritated Do-yeong, liked the way you challenged him instead of falling at his feet.

“You like me,” he teased one afternoon, cornering you in the hallway, arms braced against the wall beside your head.

You arched a brow. “You wish.”

He leaned in, breath fanning against your cheek. “You don’t have to admit it. I already know.”

Do-yeong was quieter in his obsession, but it ran just as deep.

You caught it in the way he watched you, how his hand would linger when he passed you something, how his usually composed expression would darken every time he caught Jae-jun getting too close.

One evening, after closing, you found yourself alone with him outside the club. The air was thick with something unspoken, something heavy.

“Why are you here?” you asked, crossing your arms.

He exhaled, gaze sharp. “Because I don’t like the idea of you being around him.”

Your heart skipped. “That’s not for you to decide.”

His jaw tightened. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t change the way I feel.”

And so it continued—a silent war between them with you caught in the middle.

Jae-jun would pull you into his world, filled with luxury, reckless flirting, and the kind of passion that threatened to consume everything in its path.

Do-yeong would ground you, offering quiet intensity, lingering glances, and a stability that felt far more dangerous than recklessness.

You knew you couldn’t have them both.

But you weren’t ready to choose.

Not yet.

[dyingofcookies]

can you write about Jae Jun x CURVY female reader please like I'm talking about hourglass, lil bit of tummy and huge Badonkers and whole bakery factory AHAHAHAHHa 👁👄👁

Also she's a foreigner aswell

Jeon Jae-Joon x Foreigner Reader headcanons

The first time Jae-joon laid eyes on you, he was immediately struck by how stunning you were.

Jae-joon is constantly complimenting you, and not just about how you look.

Sure, he’ll tell you how beautiful your body is (he's not shy about that), but he also loves how you carry yourself with confidence and pride.

When you’re feeling down, he always reminds you that you're a work of art—a masterpiece in his eyes.

You’re a foreigner, and Jae-joon lives for hearing you speak in your native tongue.

He always asks you to teach him phrases or say random words, especially when you pronounce something in a way that makes him smile.

Your accent gives everything you say an extra layer of allure, and he never gets enough of it.

Whether it's a possessive hand around your waist or his fingers lightly grazing your hip, Jae-joon can’t keep his hands off you.

He loves feeling the soft curves of your body and the way you fit perfectly against him.

It’s not just about attraction—it’s about comfort and connection for him.

If anyone dares to look at you for a second too long, Jae-joon can’t help but subtly (or not-so-subtly) get possessive.

He’ll throw a casual arm around your shoulders or casually place a hand on your lower back when you’re out in public.

He loves the attention you get but makes it clear—you're his.

You and Jae-joon have a playful, teasing dynamic. When you talk about your curves, he’s the first to joke along with you.

"Are you sure you need that extra dessert? Or are you just giving me more reason to carry you home?"

He’s flirty and cheeky, but it never feels disrespectful—more like fun banter that only strengthens your bond.

When it's just the two of you, Jae-joon is all about giving you love and affection.

He’ll pull you close, letting his hands roam gently over your curves, telling you how much he adores your body.

He loves being close to you, whether it’s cuddling on the couch or having you on his lap, your curves pressing against him.

As a foreigner, you bring a unique perspective to the table, and Jae-joon loves hearing about your culture, traditions, and the things you miss from home.

He’s fascinated by how you navigate two worlds and appreciates the depth you bring to every conversation.

Your differences only make your connection stronger, and he’s always there to support you as you balance both.

Jae-joon isn't shy about showing affection in public.

He’ll place his hand on your back, give you quick pecks on your cheek, or even brush his fingers against your curves when you're standing next to him.

He’s proud to have you by his side and doesn’t care who sees.

[dyingofcookies]

Headcanons: Jeon Jae Joon is in love with you🖤

Featuring: Jeon Jae Joon x Reader(f)

Warnings: Bullying, yandere guy

A/N: I'm sorry that I'm not publishing a work on SG. I just wanted to diversify my blog somehow. If you like this job, I will be happy!

🖤🖤🖤

School years

• It all started after Dong Eun dropped out of school. Yeon Jin immediately found a new victim. And it was you. She also mocked you with her company. Jae Joon was always on the sidelines and laughed at the way his girlfriend humiliated you. But everything will change in the future.

• Once you saw how the guy beat his classmate again because he insulted his eyes and laughed at color blindness. You even felt sorry for Joon, despite the fact that he was your bully. You decided to come up and support him. You waited until he was left alone and quietly approached.

- Jae Joon..

- Fuck! What do you need, bitch?

• He screamed and very loudly, you were scared, but you continued anyway.

- I wanted to say..don't pay attention to what people say. I mean..that there is nothing wrong that you are different from others..you have beautiful eyes and your color blindness is just your feature, you don't need to listen to insults about it, they don't understand anything and it's low to condemn a person for the fact that he didn't even choose at birth.

• After your words, you quickly ran away, leaving the guy alone. He just looked after you, processing the words you told him.

• He realized that you were the only person who told him such a thing. With this act, you changed his attitude towards you. But don't think it means that you're saved, it means you have your guardian demon. After all, he was very interested in you and he looked at you differently.

• The next day, he told Yeon Jin and the others to leave you alone and threatened that if they did something to you, he would kill them.

• He didn't beat or touch you, he didn't use physical violence against you, only moral violence. He could humiliate you with his words, and then laugh at your reaction.

• He forbids everyone to touch you, and if someone offends you, Joon will beat that man until he barely breathes, lying in a pool of his blood.

• You are only his. No one dares to look at you anymore.

• His friends didn't understand his behavior, especially Jin, as he began to cool off to her.

• He had one answer to all the questions: "FUCK YOU!"

• He watched your every step. He watched from afar as you walked home from school or from some store, he was always next to you, but you didn't suspect it.

• He scared all your gentlemen to such an extent that many were afraid to just approach you.

• He doesn't want you to understand that it's his business, so he tries by all means to hide his guilt.

Adult life

• He didn't leave you alone, he also kept you close to him.

• He arranged you in his store and ordered you to fulfill his requests, but you were not like Son Myeong Oh, he treated you more carefully and did not ask you to do something difficult.

• He made that you had nowhere to live, and then offered you to stay with him. He wants you to always be there for him.

- Why do you want me to move in with you? I'm just your classmate, we're not even friends.

- You shouldn't care about it. If you don't want to live in a dump, then agree to my offer.

• He knew you would agree. He knows how to manipulate you.

• When everyone found out that you lived with him, they were in complete shock, especially Yeon Jin

- Why are you to take care of her?! Did you fall in love with her??? Did you trade this me for this worthless bitch?!?!

- Don't you dare call her that. It's none of your business what I feel for her, leave us alone.

• He also secretly spoils your dates with other men. He can't let you leave him.

• He continues to follow you and will always do so. After all, you are only him.

• Joon realized a long time ago that he was in love with you, but he believes that this is how you need to show your love.

• He will probably never admit your feelings to you, because Joon knows that you will refuse, so he will enjoy you at a distance.

🖤🖤🖤