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pursued-by-the-squid · 2 days ago

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vi. wait for the green light

pairing: gi-hun x gn!reader x in-ho

word count: 9.3k

content warning: the games are finally beginning and i'm not shying away from the violence, so just be aware.

[ also, happy birthday in-ho!!! ]

ao3 | masterlist

Everything is painfully bright. You can see the lights through your eyelids even before you wake, but they’re still brilliant enough to hurt your eyes when you open them. For a moment, there isn’t much of anything beyond the sterile tint of fluorescent lights. And then, suddenly, there is everything.

The figure in your apartment, Gi-hun’s departure, the kiss – it all comes rushing back. You frantically push yourself up so you’re sitting and very narrowly miss hitting your head on a metal beam. “Oh, shit!”

Your hands fly up to shield your face while you simultaneously twist to the side, but the sudden shift in weight throws your balance off and you topple over onto the floor. Your shin rams into something hard and your tailbone aches when you land, but you’re otherwise unharmed.

“What the–?”

There’s a massive metal bunkbed looming above you, stacked five beds high and devoid of any personality apart from utilitarian despair. You see another one when you tilt your head back, then another and another, until your head is swimming. What kind of kidnapper has rows and rows of empty bunkbeds, and for what purpose?

You’re just about to spiral into a full panic attack when you spot a flash of teal green, then a splash of white, and suddenly there’s a woman kneeling in front of you. She has pretty eyes and the kindest smile you’ve ever seen, and stitched onto the breast of her jacket is a patch with the number ‘120’. She offers you a hand. “Are you alright?”

What the hell is she wearing? You glance down and practically crawl out of your skin, because what in the hell are you wearing? It’s the same outfit as hers – green zip-up jacket, green tracksuit slacks, white shoes, and white stripes running down your shoulders and legs – only your number is different. 457. Is that supposed to mean something?

“Hey.” Her voice is soft, Miss 120, and her touch is even softer, little more than a brush of her fingertips on your kneecap. And even though you’ve never met this woman before in your life, the contact is enough to soothe you temporarily. “It’s alright. Here.” Her palm is offered with a little quirk of a smile. “Take my hand.”

She pulls you up with a remarkable display of strength, damn near hoisting you off your feet instead of to them, but her other hand quickly comes to your shoulder to help you settle and find your balance. It’s only once you’re standing that you’re afforded a better look around, though there still isn’t much to see that you haven’t already taken note of. Rows and rows of bunkbeds, a swarm of green jackets, and too-bright lights that make your eyes hurt.

“What’s your name?”

“Huh?” You’re so disoriented that you’re finding it difficult to focus on any one thing, let alone whatever it is she’s saying. “I-I’m sorry, I’m…Where are we?”

Miss 120 shakes her head as her mouth tips into a slight frown. “I don’t know. I don’t think any of us know.” She casts her eyes about for a moment, cataloging the high rise of the ceiling and the glimpses of strange murals peeking out from behind the beds, before turning her attention back to you. “Did you play ddakji too?”

All your life, you’ve never thought it possible for the world to come to screeching halt. It hadn’t even done that when Gi-hun kissed you – oh God, Gi-hun. Where is he? Is he safe? Is he dead? No, no, wait, you can’t… you can’t think about that right now. Your mind is scrambling to make sense of what little information you have readily available and it feels like twelve separate traffic accidents are all colliding on the same city block inside your head.

Ddakji. She asked if you had played ddakji. That can’t be a coincidence, can it? Looking down at your jacket, you run your fingers over the stitched on ‘457’. The number is remarkably close to the one Gi-hun had given you once, the number that’s been taking turns with the dead recruiter haunting your dreams each night. This… can’t be right. The recruiter’s dead. While that hadn’t been Gi-hun’s end goal, surely that would be enough to get either himself killed or to put an end to the entire witch hunt, right? What more is there for Gi-hun or the higher-ups to do either than to kill each other?

But then, what else could this place possibly be?

“The recruiter,” you start, whirling around to look at Miss 120 once more. “The person you played ddakji with. Was it a man in a suit?”

Her frown deepens considerably as she nods. “Yes. Why?”

You press further. You have to know for sure. “The card. Did he give you a card? With the shapes on it?”

“Yes,” she replies, baffled, “didn’t you get the same?”

The room starts to spin around you, the ceiling tilting one way and the floor tipping the other until you’re stumbling backward into the metal frame of your bed. The games are real, then. You’d always assumed they were, assumed that Gi-hun was tortured enough not to lie to you about something so awful, but it was a distant fear that never came any closer than the printing of shapes upon a business card and a dead man in a suit. Now his words ring clearer than ever before – I was worried they’d hurt you because of me.

You run. It’s the only thing that makes sense. You have to get out of here before the games start. You are not killing anyone, no matter how much money they give you. You don’t need it and you don’t want it. You just want to go back home. You want Gi-hun back, you want–

The doors on the far end of the room open to show a line of men in zip-up hoodie suits, tall and ominous like the one who drugged you, only their hoodies are a vibrant pink rather than black. And just like that, your feet are rooted to the floor. Maybe they aren’t horrifically menacing to anyone else, but one of them wears the same mask as your attacker – all black with a white square. Is that him? The same one?

Where you had wanted to run only moments before, now all you want to do is hide. You push your way through the small section of people you’d already cut through to get back to your bed, back to Miss 120, anywhere so long as it’s as far away from those masked creeps as you can get. What if they drug you again? What if they drugged everyone else here? Your back hits the wall; it’s cool to the touch, almost uncomfortably so against the blazing heat of your neck and palms.

The man in the square mask takes a step forward. “I would like to extend a hearty welcome to all of you.” His voice is as modulated as the voice in your apartment, but you can’t tell if it’s the same person or not. Maybe it doesn’t matter, but it’s unsettling either way. “Everyone here will participate in six different games over six days. Those who win all six games will receive a handsome cash prize.”

The sign hanging above his head – a digital display of Hangul and numerals – feels as ominous as the square emblazoned on his face. 457. The same number on your chest. 457 people, all gathered together so they might kill each other for money. What kind of sick fuck would design something like that?

It seems you’re not the only one wondering, even if no one else in the room has any idea what it is they’ve stumbled into. Miss 120 speaks up first, then another person, and another, and another until the entire room is buzzing with whispered musings and mild accusations thrown in the direction of the masked figures. Everyone is wondering what the hell is going on and how these strange, masked men have any authority over their lives.

And then everyone suddenly stops worrying about it so much because, rather than offer a genuine answer, Square Mask offers footage – men and women alike, ddakji colors flashing in their hands, their cheeks bright red from slap after shameful slap, and a massive debt attached to each name. One of them is Miss 120 – Cho Hyun-ju, apparently, at nearly two billion won. There’s another poor soul with ten billion won in debt. Gi-hun was right, they really do prey on the most vulnerable people they can find.

How is this even legal? Is there footage of you too? Did the woman who approached you so long ago have a camera in her pocket so she could secretly record you? And why? Why would anyone want to watch footage of desperate strangers getting publicly abused? What pleasure could possibly be found in something like that?

“All of you in this room have crippling debts and are now on a cliff-edge,” Square Mask asserts. “When we first came to you, you did not trust us either. But as you know, we played a game and gave you money as promised. And so you trusted us and volunteered to participate according to your own free will. You have one last chance to decide. Do you want to live like a piece of trash, running from creditors? Or will you seize the last opportunity we are offering?”

The room devolves into further whisperings and murmurs as people start leaning in to one another. You, personally, can hardly believe a word you’re hearing. The manipulation feels so blatant – he’s literally calling everyone in the room garbage, goading them into participating so they can rise above the name calling and the weight of financial stress, and they have no idea. They don’t know they’re walking into a death trap.

Someone should do something, or say something. But who, exactly? You? Who else is there?

Before you can wrestle with yourself further, the lights flash and flicker into a dim yellow glow, casting the edges of the room into shadow. A large, glowing orb descends from the ceiling – only it’s not an orb, but a pig. Plastic, maybe, or glass, you’re not really sure, and at first, you’re lost as to why they would choose such a strange design. It’s wildly out of place. Then you hear the sound of a clicking lottery machine projected over the speakers and you realize it isn’t out of place at all.

It's a joke. It’s a perverted, twisted, fucked up attempt at a joke and it’s enough to make you sick.

45.7 billion won. The number is so mindbogglingly high that you can hardly comprehend it. You’re not even sure how much that would be in your home country, just that it’s a lot. Enough to pay off that one gentleman’s debts 4 and a half times with close to another billion to spare. That’s lifechanging amounts of money. And they’re just giving it away freely?

Not freely, you have to remind yourself. There’s a price to pay and it’s steeped in blood. Even if no one else in this room knows it, you do.

Someone should really say something, you just wish that it could be anyone other than you. There are 456 other bodies in this room, 456 people who could be saved if you just had the courage to speak up, but something holds you back. You’re terrified. You’re frozen in place by the icy chill of fear and uncertainty that clings to your bones. 456 people could easily rise up and overwhelm five measly guards, so why can’t you just say it?

You’re so intent on beating yourself up for your cowardice that you almost miss it. That voice. You don’t actually comprehend the words, you’re too dissociated to understand much of anything apart from the rush of adrenaline in your veins, but you don’t have to understand him to recognize him. Because you’d know that voice anywhere.

Gi-hun’s always had such a distinctive timbre. You could pick him from a crowd of lookalikes simply by asking him to speak, so picking him from a crowd of 456 is light work. You trail blindly in the direction it had come from, somewhere at the back of the room, lost among the rows of bunkbeds and metal platforms, looking at every face, every shock of short, dark hair, every gently sloping pair of shoulders until you find him. Because you have to find him. Because he’s here, he has to be.

Your hand lands on someone’s shoulder, someone who has that same tall and lanky stature, and his name is already on your tongue by the time they turn to reveal that they are not, in fact, Seong Gi-hun. You weren’t imagining things, were you? That was definitely his voice, you’re sure of it.

And then you see him. Cloistered among the metal bedframes with his face tilted toward the back wall. You don’t know what he’s looking at, you don’t care, because all that matters is that he’s alive. He’s here. You’re not alone, you don’t have to face this hellscape by yourself.

“Gi-hun!”

His head snaps toward you, his eyes wide and body stiff, and for a moment you’re left with only the ability to stare and to study. The face swimming before you is familiar and foreign all at once. The angles of his cheekbones are more pronounced in this lighting and his scowl more severe, but it’s really him. Your Gi-hun. And then you’re sprinting, throwing yourself into his arms and choking on his name as you cling to him, the only solid lifeline you have left.

“You’re alive,” you weep. Your hands won’t stop shaking as they grasp at any bit of skin or clothing they can find, desperate to keep him close in case you wake up and find yourself living in a world without him in it. “Oh my god, you’re alive.”

“What are you doing here?” he mutters, all gravel and breathy disbelief.

You’re trying to find the words to tell him everything, but they come out as incoherent babblings. “I don’t know,” you cry. “There was this man, and he grabbed me, a-and then I woke up and I–”

Something iron strong wraps around your bicep and yanks on you until you’re tripping over your own feet. A long, hard rod of metal slams into your spine as Gi-hun wrenches the two of you apart, his neck arched and his face contorted as he transforms into some wild and snarling beast. “What are you doing here?” he demands. He’s shaking you, his fingernails digging into your skin even through the jacket, and he’s everywhere, too close and too angry. “I told you not to come here! You promised me, [___]. You promised! What were you thinking?”

You shake your head, you try to protest, but he won’t let you. “Gi-hun–”

“I told you!” he growls, and no amount of flinching away is enough to give him pause. “Don’t leave the apartment, I said. Don’t go outside. Why?”

You’re clawing at him now, trying desperately to push him back and away, but he’s stronger than you ever gave him credit for. You’d always thought he was just some tall, lanky thing, all bark but no real bite. Now you finally realize how much you’d underestimated him.

“Did you keep the card? You thought you’d call the number and play when my back was turned?”

“I didn’t call,” you explain tearfully, struggling against his grip yet still failing to free yourself from his wrath. “I-I didn’t do anything. Gi-hun, please, you’re hurting me!”

His hand smacks into your chest, and he hits you so hard that the ache he left in your bicep disappears entirely. Your player number is caught in his fist. “What is this, huh? You think this is a Game you can win? You think this is fun?”

“Gi-hun!” you screech, and this time you summon enough strength to tear yourself free. Your palms slam into his chest and shove him backward several steps before your legs finally give out, collapsing you upon the very bed he’d pinned you to, and by then you’re both breathless and wide-eyed, gazing wordlessly at one another as if the other person has just grown a second head. “I didn’t keep the fucking card.”

“Then how?” he asks, his nostrils flaring when his chin tilts in your direction.

“I…” You close your eyes for a moment, thinking that maybe if you squeeze them tightly enough, you’ll wake up back in your own bed, far away from all the death you know is yet to come. It’s a pretty thought, but you know better. You wish you didn’t.

Because you can remember it all so clearly. You can still feel the hands on your skin, the rough gloves and the blinding, gut-wrenching panic that had settled in your bones. Here and now in the arena Gi-hun’s been trying to keep you from for the last two years, your body finally curls in on itself as it threatens to collapse.

“Someone broke into my apartment. They drugged me.”

You’re shaking your head, trying to fight back the memory, the horror, trying and failing to keep your head above the waves of despair lapping at your throat, but instead you feel like you’re drowning.

Gi-hun is there, his hands hovering over you but never touching. You think maybe he sees the way you flinch when he comes close, but you don’t have the strength to either forgive him or indulge him. “Did they hurt you?” he asks softly.

“I fought him, Gi-hun. I really tried, but he grabbed me and I couldn’t…” You think you’re going to be sick.

“Listen to me.” Gone is the spitfire and rage. Now there’s just Gi-hun, a bit softer around the edges than you’ve seen from him in weeks. It’s in the eyes, you think, or the way his brows purse when he dips his head down to catch your gaze. “I’m going to get you out of here. Okay?”

Glancing up through tear dropped lashes, you shake your head. “How? You said they made you kill people.”

“It won’t come to that,” he promises. “I have a plan.”

It takes every ounce of restraint you have not to laugh in his face. A plan? Really, that’s what he’s got? “You almost got yourself killed twice this year,” you snap. “Was that all part of your plan too?” Was showing up at your front door with three hours left ‘til midnight and kissing you part of the plan? Or was that just the act of a desperate man determined to die?

You hate that that’s where your mind goes. You hate that your life and the lives of 455 other people are on the line and all you can think about is whether or not Gi-hun really meant it when he kissed you. You hate that when he looks away, either out of shame or embarrassment, your gaze dips to the bow of his lips and you’re suddenly standing in the open doorway of your apartment, yearning for him to kiss you again.

“This is all part of his game.” He looks back at you and you tear your eyes away as fast as you can, your pulse leaping inside your chest. You really hope he didn’t notice that. “He knows I’m here to burn everything down from the inside and he’s trying to stop me.”

It takes you a moment to comprehend what he’s saying. “‘He’?”

Gi-hun nods as he starts surveying the other players. “The man running these Games, the Captain.” He falls silent for a moment, and the bed squeaks a bit when he leans his weight into it, one of his arms extended to press against the frame by your knee. “Things are different this time. The money – last time it was 45.6 billion won, and now it’s 45.7. Like your number.”

The patch sewn into your jacket suddenly seems to weigh more than the entirety of the planet. “Maybe he got more money this year?” It seems like a far better option than considering that you might be a part of this Captain’s plans.

“No. This is intentional. Now that you’re here, both the money and player count are higher. Even the rules are different.”

“So, what, he’s playing mind games with you?”

Gi-hun nods again, his expression deadly serious. “With both of us. He’s trying to get inside my head. He’s trying to scare me.”

You have half a mind to admit that it’s working because you think you might actually have a panic attack if you have to sit through a single one of these games, but you lose the chance before you can even grasp it. There’s a man pushing through the nearby gathering of players. He looks like any other man you’d meet on the street – kind eyes, a smattering of facial hair, a big smile – but the way that Gi-hun reacts when he sees him is comparable to what you imagine it might be to meet a ghost.

“Gi-hun-a!” the man exclaims as he scrambles up to greet him.

“Jung-bae-ya?” You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this shocked in his life. Well, apart from just a moment ago.

They collide just as Gi-hun rises to his feet. The other man slaps a hand on his shoulder as he draws him into a hug, laughing in total disbelief. They’re talking so fast – or at least, Jung-bae is – that you can hardly keep up with him.

“I thought that was you. I’d know your voice anywhere, you old–”

“What are you doing here?”

Jung-bae’s head tilts to the side. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here? I thought you were dead!”

Dead? Your attention snaps to Gi-hun, who has enough decency to look mildly embarrassed, though he doesn’t say anything to defend himself. You made peace with his quirks a long time ago, but the fact that someone he once knew also thought him dead is concerning. It’s not just you.

“No one's heard from you for three years,” Jung-bae continues, and God, he’s chatty. You’re trying to keep up with him while also processing everything he’s saying. “I heard your mom passed away. I had to hear about it from my wife! What kind of friend are you?” And then he’s spinning to point at you, his eyes wide. “We haven’t been here a whole day yet and you’re already trying to replace me? Is this just because I didn't lend you money? You had to cut me out?”

There’s a beat of silence while Gi-hun struggles to explain himself, but whatever he comes up with seems to fall short in his mind. In the end, he settles for a dejected sigh and a bashful shrug. “Ah, it’s not like that. It’s a long story.”

“Right. I can imagine, seeing as you're here.” Jung-bae scowls a bit, his eyes flickering all over Gi-hun’s face, searching for what, though, you couldn’t say. Likely whatever’s left of the friend he knew three years ago. “Still, you should've told me about your mom. You know how much she liked me.”

Another tense few moments pass as Gi-hun processes this. While you’re not entirely sure what specifically he’s thinking about, his mother or his mistakes, it’s very clear that he’s upset about this turn of events.

“Why are you here?” he finally asks. “What about your wife?”

Jung-bae flounders for a bit as his shoulders crowd inward. “We got divorced. But let's not talk about it here, yeah?” His focus slides to you momentarily. “When we get out, let's go for a drink and talk.”

At the mention of a drink, of actually getting out of here, Gi-hun’s eyes flash dangerously. His face, softened a bit with the weight of his affection for his friend, suddenly hardens and he grabs his friend by the collar, pulling him in so the three of you are crowded together.

“Jung-bae-ya, [___], whatever happens from now on, stay close to me. Both of you.”

You nod immediately. That’s all the convincing you need. Jung-bae, on the other hand, doesn’t realize how serious this is. After all, how could he?

“‘Stay close’?” he laughs. “That’s a bit melodramatic.” He looks to you for confirmation, as if expecting you to chuckle and nod along, only to receive a deeply concerned stare in return.

Gi-hun’s face warps once more. “Just do as I say!” he grits out. “I’m trying to keep you both alive.”

Your little nook is quiet for a long moment as the weight of Gi-hun’s words begin to settle. You know bits and pieces of what these Games entail – fucked up scenarios that twist your mind into something unrecognizable, friend pitted against friend, a detached sort of heartlessness that seeps into your bones – but Gi-hun has always been vague about the details. All this time you’d thought it was to keep himself safe from the trauma of reliving and recounting everything that happened, but now you’re starting to wonder if he wasn’t also trying to protect you. The look on his face seems to say as much.

Jung-bae is swiftly guided to sit beside you on the bed. He glances at you again, tries to smile at you, but you can see that he’s rattled, or at least confused. But by the time he attempts to ask anything more, Gi-hun is already crouching before you, his elbows braced against his knees.

“We don’t have much time, so listen carefully. Whatever happens out there, do exactly as I say. Understand?”

“But Gi-hun-a, out where? What is all this, huh?”

He swallows heavily, his jaw clenching, and then suddenly, he’s lowering himself so he’s kneeling, pressing his fingers inside his own mouth. You and Jung-bae both immediately recoil.

“What are you doing?” you ask, mildly horrified at the sight of Gi-hun gagging with his hands in his mouth. It’s… well, it’s…

“Fuck,” he spits a moment later, holding a –

“Is that your fucking tooth?” you exclaim, and it comes out much louder than you had intended.

He waves his hand absently in your direction, too focused on turning the tooth over in his trembling hands. You catch a glimpse of metal prongs and what looks like a hollow space carved out of the tooth, but it’s gone before you can make proper sense of it, caught in Gi-hun’s fist as he slowly slumps in defeat.

What the fuck is going on?

You’re leaning down to reach for him – his hand, his arm, his face, anything that will bring him back to you so he can explain, so he can help you understand – when his head snaps up and his eyes bore directly into your skull. “Talk to me,” you implore. “What is it?”

His eyes, dark and glittering, squeeze shut for the briefest of moments before he suddenly draws himself to his full height. With the way you’re sitting on the bed, it makes him appear mountainous and detached, soaring high into the stratosphere while you’re left at ground level, alone and confused and so painfully far away. “I’ll explain everything later–”

“But we might not get a later!” And that, at last, is enough to give him pause. He watches you pull yourself up and shuffle close. “You told me these games were deadly. What if something happens out there and–”

Gi-hun rests a hand on your arm, as gentle and soothing as he can manage under the circumstances. “Nothing is going to happen. Trust me.”

“I do. But you’re not making it very easy.” Your chin drops against your chest. “I’m scared. I don’t want to die.”

He shakes his head. “You won’t. I won’t let you. Stick with Jung-bae-ya and me, alright? We’ll keep you safe.”

Whether he’ll be able to or not remains to be seen, but you know Gi-hun well enough to know he means it. He’ll do anything he can to keep you safe. You just hope that fate agrees with him.

Player consent forms. As much as you despise the people running these games – the Captain, Gi-hun had called him – you have to admit that it’s smart. Many of these people will have already signed their bodily autonomy away in return for unpaid debts, so a blanket consent form with no real context isn’t going to matter to much of anyone. It’s nothing they haven’t seen before.

Your palms are clammy, sweat already slickening your skin as the player ahead of you departs. You don’t have any qualms about choosing not to sign – you have no desire to be here any longer, not even for a chance at 45.7 billion won. Besides, you already have all the money you could ever need.

“Player 457. Your signature has already been taken.”

Your head snaps up forcefully enough that you hear the joint pop. “What?”

The man behind the table inclines his mask to you – all black with a white circle – as if he were merely a polite, mild-mannered secretary breaking some unfortunate news. “Your consent form has already been signed.”

Maybe you’re not translating him correctly. Your Korean has improved a lot over the past few years, but there are still some gaps in your fluency. You take a step forward. “I haven’t signed anything. I didn’t even ask to be here. Gi-hun,” you start, turning to look at him over your shoulder, “I’m not hearing that wrong, am I?”

He shakes his head. The lump in his throat bobs just slightly, but Gi-hun’s focus isn’t on you. He’s glaring a hole into the head of the masked figure before you, his jaw clenched tightly enough that you hear his teeth scrape against each other.

The guard, however, doesn’t even seem bothered by either of your responses. “Rest assured, Player 457, that your consent form has already been signed and filed. Please step aside to allow the other players to sign.”

“No.” Your hand smacks on the table between you, hard enough that the discarded pen used by the previous player rattles and lolls to one side. “I don’t want to be here. I haven’t signed anything, so if you have something with my name on it, it’s a forgery.”

A quiet, creeping feeling has begun to swell deep within your gut. Gi-hun going AWOL last night was one thing, getting kidnapped and taken to the very games he’d told you about was another, but now being forced to participate against your will? It’s all horribly wrong.

“If you do not allow the other players to sign their consent forms, then we will be forced to disqualify you,” says the guard. “Please step aside.”

“Good! I don’t want to be here, and I’m not letting you sign me up for this shitshow without my actual consent!”

Already, the players lined up closest to you are starting to murmur amongst themselves. Some of them are staring at you, whispering behind their hands, and even a few of the guards have turned their helmets to watch you. That quiet, creeping in your stomach quickly turns to dread, hot and heavy and nauseating.

“[___].” Gi-hun rests a hand on your shoulder, his voice low and soothing, but you don’t know how he can manage that. How can he be so calm when your consent has just been ripped from your hands?

“Player 457.”

Your chest is suddenly tight. It… hurts. It hurts to breathe, actually. You press your palm flat against your sternum for a moment, your eyes fluttering wildly as you attempt to find your breath, to focus, to think, but it’s overwhelmingly difficult. The tracksuit itches at your wrists and neck, and the shoes are uncomfortable around the back of your heel. Your palms are getting sweaty again. And your pulse is skyrocketing faster than you can catch your breath.

Your name is called again, louder this time, and you know it’s Gi-hun, you know he’s trying to help you, but you can’t find it in you to hear him. You feel like a tiny sailboat adrift in a great sea of teal jackets and numbered patches. Everyone is watching, but not a single face looks familiar. Not a single face holds an ounce of pity for you.

“Player 457.” Your head snaps to the right, toward the voice, and you’re met with a massive wall of pink. It’s a different guard, you think. Taller. “Please step aside or we will be forced to remove you.”

“No,” you mumble softly, one foot already dipping behind you. The room tilts, and for a moment you’re back in your apartment, the room dark and shadowed, and you’re crying out for help because you’re about to be assaulted or worse. You can still smell the chemicals they drugged you with.

Something grabs you by the arm – to steady or to harm you, you don’t know – but you spin around in a blind panic, teeth bared, terrified and ready to fight when–

“[___].” It’s Gi-hun. Your Gi-hun, but he’s all wrong in this light. You don’t like the tracksuit on him, how the color clashes with his eyes and marks him as the same helpless, frightened animal that you’ve become.

“I didn’t sign it,” you gasp as you uncoil in his hands. “I wouldn’t, I swear!”

You half expect him to explode. It might almost be worth it to see him lose his temper, to give the bastards running this place a piece of his mind, but he simply doesn’t. If anything, he seems to freeze. You can see his hands trembling at his sides as they drop and curl into fists. He turns toward the Circle Mask, the back of his neck stiff above the collar and his shoulders tense. “Are you certain? You have the right player?”

The guard inclines his head. “Player 457’s consent form has already been signed and filed. We apologize for any confusion on the terms of your participation, but once consent is given it cannot be rescinded.”

Consent cannot be rescinded.

You cast your eyes about the room in daze. Most of the other players have taken to ignoring you now that you’re not making a scene, though you do receive several wary glances. You catch Hyun-ju’s eye for a moment – the only other person in this place you recognize, the only person out of 455 strangers to have offered you a bit of kindness – and she smiles briefly at you. You’re too upset to even attempt smiling back.

Consent cannot be rescinded.

You’re stuck here. You’re going to have to play. Everything Gi-hun has already told you about, every waking nightmare he’s been living with in the three years since his first bout of bloody games, is now going to become a part of your reality. The blood. The death. The bodies. You think of the corpse in the suit, his brain splattered on the wall, and you choke on your own saliva. Oh God, the bodies.

“Come on.”

His hand wraps again around your bicep, urging you to move even when your feet refuse to answer, although he’s mercifully gentler this time. You stumble blindly alongside him, not protesting, not crying, not able to summon a single thought apart from the realization of your impending doom. He guides you to one of the beds and forces you to sit.

“It’s going to be alright,” he promises, but the words are empty. They ring in your ears like a bell that’s gone sour with time and disuse. “[___], listen to me, you’re going to live. Do you understand me?”

You understand that you’re going to die. You understand that whatever comes next might be your last moments on Earth. What if they force Gi-hun to kill you? Or force you to kill him? What about his friend, Jung-bae?

“Whatever happens,” you can hear him say, “you stay behind me. If I tell you to freeze, you do it.”

When you don’t respond – too horrified by the notion of your own execution to do anything more than sit and wheeze – you notice Jung-bae lingering nearby. They’re talking about you, you think, but even if they are, you don’t have it in you to care. You know you’re going to die today and you’re trying desperately to find some peace of mind in the certainty of it, but all you can feel is the yawning, gaping pit of terror that’s opened up in your stomach.

The whiskey burns pleasantly at the back of his throat when he swallows. Normally he would be indulging merely for the sake of the drink, but he’s restless today, almost abnormally on edge. He could pretend not to know the reason why, but In-ho has never been inclined to lie to himself. The reasons for his uncertainty are displayed on the television with striking clarity. There’s no hiding from it now.

The first game isn’t yet in motion, so he takes the opportunity to study you. A review, of sorts, before the real test begins. He studies the footage of your capture the previous night with a hint of pride. Your strength is no match for his finest Manager, of course, but you’d put up quite the fight. After the bouts of vulnerability he has seen from you in the past, he wasn’t entirely sure you would have the mental fortitude to defend yourself; he’s pleased to note that the opposite is, in fact, true. And while he’s loathe to admit it, seeing you so quickly subdued after 456’s startling display of emotion only minutes prior is something of a balm for the grating ache in his chest.

Now that he hadn’t liked. Something dangerously sharp had stabbed through his lungs when he first saw it, akin to disgust but not entirely separate from anger either. Why should Seong Gi-hun be granted the pleasure of your kiss when, after everything he had killed and bled for, In-ho was left widowed and childless? Why should a man who had abandoned his own daughter to America and betrayed your trust countless times be allowed to have even the slightest glimmer of hope when In-ho has been the one to lose everything?

The Game is an equalizer. It is meant to offer no advantages or disadvantages, only opportunity, and yet Player 456 has somehow managed to survive an entire six rounds of gameplay, a bout of roulette with the most deranged recruiter under his employ, and has found both purpose and pleasure in simultaneously courting you and tearing In-ho’s empire to the ground.

And so, an idea had taken shape. It had started with your capture and blossomed into something more the moment 456 had stepped into his limousine and demanded to return. Rather than taunting Gi-hun with anonymous images of your gameplay, or even of your death, why not allow him to witness your destruction firsthand? Why not twist the Games in In-ho’s favor, just this once, to prove that there is nothing a deadbeat gambler like Seong Gi-hun can do in the face of human greed and bloodlust?

He'd watched you throughout the night, mulling over the possibilities as he nursed a bottle of whiskey. He’d watched you through the camera installed in your bedframe, watched your brows wrinkle as you slept, how your chest rose and fell beneath your jacket, and found himself inexplicably entranced. In the years he has watched you from your apartment, In-ho had never breached the privacy of your bedroom. That was a line he was uninterested in crossing, yet even now he finds himself wondering what details of your life he’s missed because of that decision.

How many hours have you spent pouring over Magritte’s book? How many hours have you dedicated to late night phone calls or messages exchanged with Gi-hun that he was unaware of? And that kiss… What else have you two been doing outside of his reach? What opportunities for manipulation has he missed out on by attempting to be gentlemanly, knowing full well the monster he’s already become?

He shakes his head and pours himself another glass. It’s better not to dwell on such things. The board is set, the pieces are eager to move, and the Front Man has a job to do.

Settling back into his chair, one leg crossed over the other, In-ho watches your player photo flash across the screen. Your eyes are devoid of emotion, the lines of your smile distorted into a flat expression that is so unlike you it makes him physically uncomfortable. It’s a remnant of your shock and horror, he knows, but the difference in your face is startling all the same.

He tries not to think on that either. Instead, he tries to recapture the contentment he has come to know during the Games. There is always death, there is always fear and greed; a cycle that never changes and never ends, and there is comfort in that certainty. He grasps it firmly with both hands and doesn’t let go.

Gi-hun’s reaction to the arena is expected, but enjoyable all the same. It’s an exaggerated rendition of the horror he’d displayed upon realizing his dental tracker was missing. In-ho almost wishes he had been the one to remove it, that his hands were suited for such a task, if only to revel in the knowledge of besting 456 yet again. But he finds that the satisfaction he craves comes in another, more surprising form.

He's never been sure of how much you were told. Likely vague ideas of heartless and bloody murder that have no doubt been tainted by Gi-hun’s irritating inclination for self-righteousness and self-pity, left to fester in your imagination. He’d seen glimpses of it earlier – the bobbing of your throat, the fear in your eyes, the wash of panic as you began to realize that you were trapped in his game, all the result of Gi-hun’s carelessness, not that either of you would ever see it as such. But the trepidation in your face as you stumble into the arena tells him that you know more than he first suspected.

This should be interesting.

What he doesn’t expect, however, is for Gi-hun to start interfering so soon. Perhaps he should have anticipated as much, but In-ho finds him to be something of a mystery. Every time he thinks he’s figured 456 out, the man turns around and does something unexpected like dyeing his hair, or abandoning his daughter, or taking in a stray. This time it’s taking command of the arena. A desperate attempt to save lives that aren’t even worth the effort.

“Don’t move! Everyone freeze!”

There’s a muscle in the corner of In-ho’s jaw that begins to tick. The whiskey suddenly tastes like gasoline, all traces of its usual bittersweetness erased in the wake of 456’s mounting victory. He’s not concerned – it’s been years since he’s felt anything, fear or otherwise, beyond the yawning void his soul has become – but neither is he foolish. Gi-hun may be a lucky scrap dug out from the garbage heap, but he is also a gambler and gamblers are dangerous. They take too many risks. They’ll crawl in the dirt like animals rolling in their own filth if it equates to survival.

A problem, he muses. A problem he may just be inclined to solve himself. After all, his hands are itching to wrap around something fragile and squeeze, and the urge is strong enough to make his breath catch.

The table clatters softly when he snags the remote from the center tray. The little display across the room lights up in shades of red and pale yellow, and In-ho swirls his tongue over his teeth as the music begins. He turns his gaze to you, to the small corner of the screen set aside for your live cam feed, and he finds himself wondering.

Your mouth is pressed into a thin, trembling line as you cower behind another player’s back, an old friend of 456 if he’s remembering the number correctly. A thin streak of blood is splattered across your ankle, but he can see no other signs of injury or contamination. Ironic, really. You would already be dead if he hadn’t given the order to spare your life.

In-ho swirls his glass in a slow, circular motion, studying the watery sheen of your eyes when a player falls dead on your right before finally downing the rest. He catches glimpses of you as he begins pacing around the room, can hear you screaming when Gi-hun does something particularly foolish and self-righteous, but it quickly becomes little more than background radiation. Another layer of music that curtains his thoughts as he strips himself of his Front Man attire.

The last thing he sees before rushing out of the observation room is your grief-stricken face and the gangling, flailing limbs of 456 as he stumbles over the finish line. In-ho catches himself smiling.

It’s quite a remarkable sight.

The chaos is overwhelmingly loud. Everywhere you look, there are people chattering, grasping at their friends or loved ones, weeping, conspiring in the shadowed corners. Everywhere are eyes too sharp and smiles too vicious, all pointed teeth and bloodlust. And oh God, the blood. You see it splattered on one player’s face, on another player’s shoes. When you walk, the soles of your feet are slick with half-dried blood caked in dirt. It’s awful. It’s so, so awful.

All this time, this is what Gi-hun had feared. This was the hellscape he’d escaped from, the very thing he’d warned you against. You’d known it was terrible, but now that you’ve seen it firsthand? Everything you’ve come to learn about him clicks into place.

He doesn’t protest when you curl yourself into his side, your eyes unseeing and your breath coming to you in stuttering phrases. It’s a small mercy. You think that if he had turned you away when you wordlessly reached for him, you would have burst into tears. Or even a mild panic attack. As it is, you’re already struggling to stay composed. But his presence is stabilizing and that’s good enough for now.

You don’t pay much attention to the masked figures when they enter the room, their garish pink suits at odds with the gruesome horror of this place. You simply burrow further into Gi-hun’s chest, nuzzling against his ribcage until he shifts uncomfortably and is forced to bend his frame around yours to accommodate you. The weight of his arm around your back is grounding enough to bring you back down to reality, to remind you that you’re alive.

People are crying, you soon realize. Not the same crying as before. It’s different now, they’re begging, pleading for mercy as they get down on their knees to grovel. But don’t they realize what they’ve done? They’ve signed their rights away, there’s nothing they can do now but accept the fact that they’re as trapped here as you are.

“[___].”

You’re blinking, staring at nothing in particular, when you suddenly realize Gi-hun’s speaking to you. Your head tips back slightly, your eyes bleary as you struggle to focus on his face. “Hm?”

His hands are curling around your shoulders, gently this time, as he prompts you to sit up and move off of him, only you don’t want to move. You want him to stay, to keep holding you. It’s not as scary when he holds you.

“Here. Jung-bae-ya’s got you,” he murmurs.

He passes you off like you’re a piece of bread or a bag of groceries, like you’re some inconsequential thing that he has to be rid of as quickly as possible, and you don’t understand why until he’s suddenly standing, staring down the masked men who have turned your life upside down. Some of the other players turn to look at him. Jung-bae rests an awkward hand on your arm and you try not to be rude and shrug it off; he’s only being polite, it’s just not what you want right now. It’s not Gi-hun.

“Clause three of the consent form,” Gi-hun announces suddenly, “‘the games may be terminated upon a majority vote.’ Correct?”

“That is correct,” says the Square Mask. He doesn’t nod.

“Then let us take a vote right now.”

There’s a bit of confusion between the decision to vote and the actual occurrence. As the shock and dissociation from the day’s events begin to wear off, you slowly become more and more cognizant of your surroundings. You note the decreased number of players and the newly accumulated prize money – 365 survivors out of the original 457 and a whopping 9.1 billion won.

A voting booth is displayed near the front of the room, designed to resemble a gift box with two buttons on display – a red X and a blue O to match the markings on the floor. Rules are announced, what each button means and how much money each player will receive should you all vote to leave now. (It’s ₩24,931,506 per person. You’ve never felt so thoroughly sickened by the thought of money before in your life.)

“If you wish to continue the Games, press the O button. If you wish to end them, press the X button. The vote will be held in reverse order of your player numbers.” The guard suddenly raises his hand and points to the back of the room. “Player 457.”

It takes you a moment to remember who Player 457 is. Gi-hun has to nudge you after several seconds tick by and you don’t budge. “Go,” he whispers, pressing his hand to the curve of your spine to urge you forward.

Everyone is watching, which only makes it worse. It’s not that you care what these people think of you because you know your own conscience, you’re not worried about your choice, but the memory of the game still lingers in the back of your head. With so many eyes on you, it’s almost like you’re back in the arena. One move and you’re dead.

“Aish, [___],” says Gi-hun, giving you another gentle push, “go. I’ll be right behind you.”

Maybe that’s what you were waiting for, this subconscious need for his permission. Whether you’re right or not, though, you don’t even want to guess. You just want this over with. You want to go home. The thought of crawling into bed in your own apartment is less appealing than it should be after being drugged in your own home, but at least it would be better than this.

That’s what finally gets your feet going. Home. Home with Gi-hun. A warm bowl of ramyeon, a movie, and his arm around your shoulder. You’re not sure that’s something he would ever want, but you allow the fantasy to persist anyway, if only because you can still remember the press of his lips over yours. It’s something to hope for, a light at the end of the tunnel.

“This one ends the Game, right?” You point to the red X button on your left. Now that it comes down to it, you’re illogically terrified of accidentally mistranslating every word spoken around you and pressing the wrong button, dooming yourself, Gi-hun, and every other soul in this room to another round of torment. “X means no.”

The guard nods. “Correct.”

You don’t even need to think about it. Your palm slams down on the button and the voting podium briefly flashes fully red before returning to normal. A patch is offered to you – a white X on a red background – which you proudly display on your right breast. Gi-hun is quick to follow, having already started toward the display while you were casting your vote, and when he joins you a moment later, your entire body goes limp with relief. He rests his hand on your shoulder, gives you an affirming nod and an almost-smile that you think you’ll treasure for the rest of your life, before guiding you to the designated waiting area.

You’ve both done your part. Now all you have to do is wait for the rest to follow.

If only it were truly that easy. While you were busy mourning the lives lost and yearning for home, many of the other players have been calculating. They’re greedy. You understand it to a point – life is never easy and money solves just as many problems as it causes – but you find it difficult to understand how anyone could choose to stay in the games after witnessing such a horrific and violent loss of life. Player after player chooses to stay. Young people likely around your own age, older folks with decades worth of debt, the awful man with the purple hair (not a surprise in the least), Miss Hyun-ju (it hurts your heart to watch – she seems so nice that her decision almost feels like a betrayal), all of them choose to stand in the blood and the gore for the sake of a little extra cash.

And when they aren’t dooming all the rest of you to unnecessarily violent deaths, they’re rioting at the slightest inclination of wisdom or sense. Gi-hun tries, he really does, to explain just how dangerous the games are. You can see it in his eyes how much it hurts him. The people who listen aren’t difficult to convince, but the ones who remain have hardened their hearts to anything he has to say, and that becomes a burden in itself. What hope had started to blossom in his chest and lift his shoulders is squashed the longer the voting goes on.

You want to take his hand and reassure him that everything will be fine, if only because the sight of his crestfallen face and haunted eyes makes you want to vomit what little remains of yesterday’s dinner, but it would be a lie. The only thing you’re capable of doing is waiting.

Ultimately, it comes down to Player 001. He’s been sticking to the shadows the entire time, the details of his face hidden behind other players and whatever uncertainties he carries with him. You catch a glimpse of his shoulder when he passes between the X and O groups, then the player number on the back of his jacket, but then he’s swallowed up by the crowd. Standing on your toes doesn’t offer you much more of a vantage point either, so you settle for leaning into Gi-hun and hoping for the best.

The room, once clamoring with competing voices all calling for their group to win, falls deathly silent. 001 pauses for a moment. If he says no, you get to go home. You get safety and freedom, you get Gi-hun, you get hope. But if he says yes…

Your eyes flicker to the scoreboard hanging overhead. A buzzer sounds when his choice is made and the number for the O team clicks up by one. All around you, your fellow players are groaning, hanging their heads in despair. Defeat rises up so quickly and so strongly in your chest that it feels like bile. Tears sting along your waterline as your surroundings grow blurry.

Somewhere in your vicinity, you think you hear Jung-bae attempting to comfort you and Gi-hun, but his words are hollow. Even grabbing for Gi-hun’s hand, clinging to him like some frightened thing lost in a storm offers little comfort.

When the sun rises tomorrow, you won’t be able to see it because you’ll be trapped here, forced into a game to kill or be killed, and you don’t even know if you or Gi-hun will be around long enough to survive to the end.

#seong gi hun x reader #gi hun x reader #hwang in ho x reader #in ho x reader #squid game #my fics

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astrcmoni · 23 hours ago

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just woke up and y’all already pissing me off. i understand that everyone is still upset from the grammys last night, rightfully so, but do not make her personal sadness your comfort.

you can crash out, you can feel some type of way but don’t make it about yourself because you as an individual are not affected by this situation neither positively or negatively. none of us are.

yall do shit like that along with spreading around the images of her crying and then wonder why she doesn’t like to post shit anymore. cause yall do bullshit like that. who the fuck wants to see themselves on the internet crying after not winning a single award for their most rawest and passionate project yet, it’s already being televised live, and after the internet dragged you for your new cut and fit. nobody wants to see that.

this goes for everyone too and i really don’t care if she’s going to see it or not it’s still odd. that’s like saying ‘oh someone just shot billie’s grandpa or someone just burned her house down….make something to where we comfort her through that’…. (just an example cause this ain’t the first time i seen this bs😒)

are you going to heal her grandpa or build her a new house in real life? no, you won’t cause you can’t. like i stated earlier its perfectly okay to be upset on her behalf but this will never hit hard for you like it does her and her brother. they put their entire being, time, efforts, money and so much more into this album. as a community we need to step back, go back to your regularly scheduled program. cause these awards are not definitive to her as an artist nor as a person.

let their loss be what it is and give them the room to handle it and deal with it gracefully.

once again this goes towards everything i’ve been seeing since last night, these are just some examples, no one in specific. but if you feel like this applies to you and the shoe fits, you better wear it.

#was going to post today too now i don’t want to anymore #vay speaks #astrcmoni #billie eilish x reader

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wildernessuntothemselves · 1 day ago

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Soulmate(s) | Part 2

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Word Count: 7.1k

Summary: In a world where you get the name of your soulmate tattooed on your skin the night you turn 21, there should be no reason to even think about fucking around with anyone else. Why would you when you know that the perfect person who is made just for you is somewhere out there waiting for you to find them?

So how the hell did you end up messing around with your two best friends and what are you going to do if neither of them ends up being your soulmate or worse, what if one of them is your soulmate?

Warnings: fem!reader, soulmates au, this is not a light fic, there will be backstabbing and manipulation, sub!soobin, dom!gyu, switch/gyu, handjob, cunnilingus, blowjob, tit-fucking, cumming all over oc lol

____________________________

Beomgyu and Soobin have been trying to convince you to hook up with them again since you’ve last done it, something you’ve been very hesitant to do. You’d only really meant to kiss Soobin. You didn’t mean for Beomgyu to get involved or for things to go this far, but it seems you’ve opened Pandora's box now as the two boys have only become bolder and more insatiable since then–begging and pleading you to join them every time you were alone together.

Yes, join them, as they clearly have not been waiting for your permission to continue their forbidden rendezvous, and they’re making sure you know. Like right now, you were supposed to have your regular movie night together but none of you were paying any attention to the movie. The two boys are loudly kissing on the couch as Beomgyu’s hand moves under Soobin’s pants– the wet sounds of their kissing and their heavy moans and grunts would make it impossible to hear the movie if you were even trying to.

But you’re not, and you can’t pretend you are. They can clearly see the stern frown you’re throwing at them, but they don’t care, Beomgyu’s face buried in the older boy’s neck as he jerks him off in his pants.

Soobin whines your name out, the plea clear in his voice, and it would make you wet if you weren’t already soaked. “Come here, please. I want to kiss you.”

Ugh, the siren call. It was one thing for Beomgyu to beckon you towards this sin with his smirking face and cocky attitude, but it’s another thing entirely for your good little Soobin to so sweetly, so cunningly, try to break your inhibitions. No, he’s not sweet or innocent. He knows what he’s doing and it’s fucking working.

Beomgyu lifts his head from Soobin’s wet neck to level you with his heavy gaze as he pulls Soobin’s cock out of his pants. “Come on, baby, look how much he needs you.”

You can’t help but rub your thighs together. Damn them. Damn them to hell.

“It doesn’t look like he needs me. Looks like you’re taking care of him all right on your own.” You impress yourself by being able to speak through your completely parched throat.

“Yeah, but I’m sure he’d like it extra hard if your pretty mouth was on his cock.” At this, he twists his hand around Soobin’s head and the older boy cries out. “Yes, please, please, want it.”

“Shut up.” You curse him under your breath as your hand finally moves between your legs to soothe the burning need there. You’ve watched them do this way too many times now. It burned you with both need and jealousy because, damn it, you want to be with them too but it’s wrong! You can’t do this. You need to stop it and remain loyal to your destined soulmate.

But like a vulture, Beomgyu jumps at the first sign of weakness from you. “Oh, baby, don’t be like that.” He tugs on your arm, pulling it away from your pussy, making you almost growl at him. How dare he?! Hasn’t he tortured you enough?

But you don’t get the chance to chew him out because he pulls you onto his lap, your back facing his front and his very hard cock pressing against your lower back, his large warm hands on your inner thighs and the precum from Soobin’s dick sticking to your skin.

“Let us take care of you.” He purrs in your ears, his hands massaging your sensitive thighs, so close yet so far from where you need him the most. You try to close your legs but he doesn’t let you, and you can’t fucking think with his hot breath on your skin. “Let us make it stop hurting.”

“Fucking asshole.”

He laughs at your response, one of his hands getting impossibly close to your pussy. “Is that a yes?”

“Just get it over with.”

Now you know Beomgyu would’ve liked a more enthusiastic response than that but you also know that he’ll take what he can get, and after weeks of begging and whoring around, he finally gets to touch you, his long fingers pressing over your covered slit.

“Fuck. You’re so wet.” He moans, greedily pushing your shorts to the side so he can fully feel how wet you really are, his fingers easily gliding over your wet lips, and you keen, your back arching at the sudden intense stimulation.

“I hate you.” You still put up your act, but Beomgyu doesn’t care, just focusing on breaking you down on his fingers. And break you do, gushing out even more slick as he alternates between rubbing your clit and sliding his fingers up and down your pussy.

You almost forget that you’re not the only two people there for a second, too lost in the intense pleasure, until Soobin whines and you see him moving out of the periphery of your vision to take center stage on the floor in front of you.

“Can I try it now, Beommie?” The older boy’s hands sear your skin as he pushes your thighs further apart and presses his face right between them. You shriek, reflexively attempting to close your legs once again at the embarrassing and exposed position you’ve found yourself in but you stand no chance against the two boys splaying you open for their pleasure.

“You’re scaring her, idiot.” Beomgyu snaps at Soobin but you can see that the older boy is only half listening, too focused on the way Beomgyu’s fingers continue to play with your pussy. “Should’ve waited a bit.”

“But I can’t wait any longer!” Soobin whines and you crane your head to try to catch Beomgyu’s eyes. “Wait for what? What are you two shits planning?”

Beomgyu uses the opportunity of you turning your head towards him to steal a quick kiss from your lips. “Binnie just wanted a taste. He’s been talking about it nonstop. Will you let him have a little taste?”

Your eyes widen. “You’ve both lost your minds. You really think I’ll let him do that? You’re both perverts!”

Soobin starts loudly whining, attempting to plead his case, attempting to convince you that he–the man with his dick out at your feet and begging to eat you out–is not a pervert. But Beomgyu snaps at him, shutting him up.

“Forget it. You ruined it. She doesn’t want it.” He hisses at the older boy who amazingly cowers back and shuts up. “Here, this is enough for you.” He takes his hand off your pussy and pushes the wet fingers against Soobin’s pillowy lips. You gasp as the other boy immediately opens up to suck them in, moaning out obscenely as if it’s the tastiest sweet he’s ever had.

“Beomgyu!” You cry out, pulling his hand away from Soobin and making them both protest.

“Why?!”

“Come on, let him have this.”

“You’re both disgusting.”

“What’s disgusting about wanting to taste our lover?” Beomgyu asks, and you shiver at the word–lover. Are you lovers? Why does that word make your heart flutter so much? “You must’ve seen the educational tapes. This is a perfectly normal part of pleasuring your mate, just like if you were to suck his cock.”

“Oh, I would not do that. No way.” Your face flushes heatedly as you vehemently deny you’d do such a dirty thing. “It wouldn’t even fit…”

You know cunnilingus is a normal sex act but it feels too intimate to share with someone who isn’t your soulmate–with your two fucking best friends.

“Now you’re just being a tease.” Beomgyu growls, eyes darkening at your choice of words.

“Please,” Soobin inches closer to you again, his big bunny eyes staring up at you as his plush lips stop centimeters away from your needy pussy, so deprived that even his breath makes you shiver.

You’ve already done so much together. Would it really be so bad to let him do this? He seems to really want it, and you can’t deny the fact that you want it too. They’ve both teased you way too much already. Why are you teasing yourself?

“Okay.”

“Oh, than–” You can’t even hear the rest of his appreciation as it gets smushed against your lower lips.

“Fuck.” You curse lowly, feeling a strange mixture of awkwardness and pleasure as Soobin finds his way around your pussy–first very clumsily but slowly getting more deliberate, guided by the boy behind you.

“Slow down.” He tells him when Soobin gets too rowdy, “Flatten your tongue out. Focus here.” He instructs as if he’s done this before and somehow it’s working. You’re slowly but surely feeling your high build up.

“How the fuck do you know so much?” You grit out, asking Beomgyu.

“I watch the videos a lot.” He admits easily, referring again to the education videos all of you are provided when you get closer to your 21st birthday so you’d know what to expect when you finally meet your lover. “Wanna make sure my soulmate will be thanking their lucky stars they ended up with me.”

You roll your eyes. Yeah, right. The pervert probably is just using them to get off every night if what you’ve witnessed of his libido these past few weeks is any indication. “I don’t remember the educational videos containing such filth. Are you sure you haven’t been watching those soulmateless degenerates instead?” You accuse, referring to the taboo tapes sold secretly by some of those who have either never gotten a soulmate or have lost them in one way or another.

In a society such as your own, where almost everyone has a second half, those without their fated partners end up being shunned. They simply freak people out. After all, why don’t they have someone? What is so wrong with them that the universe has chosen to curse them to a life where they’ll never know the touch of true love?

Even still, not all of them start out totally isolated. After all, they were once just like all of you with loving families and supportive friends before their terrible fates were revealed on the very day that was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives–expecting to be given eternal love and instead finding themselves with a gaping hole in their hearts that is only fated to grow bigger and bigger every passing day.

Their loved ones may try to cheer them up. They may try to convince them that they could still lead a normal life. They try to pretend that nothing has changed, but everything has changed. Their lives could never be the same after that. They know it and everyone around them knows it too. They would never be in love. They would never marry and have a family. They would never know what it’s like to finally feel whole. And it slowly gets to them. The older they grow, the bigger the gap in their heart grows and they begin to resent those around them. They begin to begrudge those who have what they never will. They turn angry and bitter and they start lashing out at the very people who tried to help them.

They start to seek out the passion that is missing from their lives in other places. Some turn to drugs, some turn to sex and some take on dangerous and risky jobs just to feel alive. They may even come to gain some respect and prominence in society depending on how they choose to chase those thrills. But it would never be enough. They would always have to do more and more to get even a fraction of the natural bliss that comes from finding your soulmate and knowing you’re finally home, and they start losing themselves bit by bit, chasing even riskier and riskier highs until they burn out.

You shudder at the thought. That is your worst fear. To be left abandoned by the universe.

You’re thankfully torn out of your gloomy thoughts when Beomgyu unceremoniously pulls your shirt up over your chest to expose your breasts which he cups in his hands and expertly kneads, massaging the soft flesh and pulling at your pebbled nipples.

Instantly, pleasure floods your brain and drowns out the scary thoughts until all you can think of is how strong and solid he feels against you, how his long sure fingers touch you so well, and how sexy his deep voice sounds in your ear as he continues to instruct Soobin on what to do.

“Fuck.” You cry, arching into his touch, throwing your legs wider apart and inadvertently pushing your pussy against Soobin’s face, his nose brushing against your clit and causing a spasm to go through your body. “I’m close. Don’t stop.”

Through blurry eyes you see Beomgyu grab Soobin’s hair and push him even further against your pussy, rubbing his face against you as the older boy excitedly lets his tongue flick between your lower lips, filling the room with an obscene wet noise that rises even louder than the ringing in your ears.

“Soobinnie, fuck!” You groan and Beomgyu nips at your neck, lightly grazing the skin of your neck with his teeth, careful not to mark you, and pinches your nipples between his fingers, pulling your orgasm right out of you.

“Yes, yes, I’m cumming!” You scream out, your orgasm ripping through your body as both boys ruthlessly continue playing with you, not letting up until you start tearing up. “Enough, enough, too much.”

Beomgyu is the first to stop. It takes him pushing Soobin away for the other boy to stop too–whether not caring or not hearing, you don’t know, but when he is detached from your pussy, you see how his entire lower face is now covered in your slick–his pretty lips even bigger and puffier from the activity.

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath and Beomgyu laughs.

“He's so good, isn't he baby? Those dirty lips were made just for this.” He pulls Soobin's head back to run his thumb over his wet lips. “He’s got a mouth that can drive you crazy, huh?”

Beomgyu's the one who’s got a mouth that can drive you crazy. Though Soobin has done most of the work, it’s Beomgyu's constant filth in your ears that worked you up so much. It’s like he can get you both to do anything and it scares you.

What if you end up cursed because you’ve gotten greedy and chose to seek out the pleasure and intimacy that is supposed to only come from your soulmate from someone else?

“This is so wrong.” You slur and Soobin frowns, pulling your leg down so he can place your foot over his hard cock, blissfully oblivious to the turmoil happening inside your brain. “It would still be wrong after you get us off.”

You glare at him as Beomgyu bursts out laughing behind you. “Fucker.”

“He’s right, baby. It’s unfair to say this after we’ve already gotten you off.” He grinds his cock against your ass and you hate how that still makes you burn. “I said it from the start, asshole.”

“Well then it won’t make a difference if you get us off too.”

He slips out from under you to stand up in front of you, pushing his shorts down and shamelessly giving his hard cock a few pumps right in front of your face. “Look how hard you got me with your pretty little moans.”

“You're disgusting.” You scoff but Soobin also rushes to his feet, his own cock already out ages ago.

“Me too. Wanna feel your touch too. Beommie is too mean. He always teases too much.”

At the mention of their previous hookups you get jealous again. They have done so much without you it’s not fair. What if one of them is your soulmate and you’re missing out on all your first experiences together because you won’t join them. You know you like them both, and you know they like you too. Soulmates can feel a connection even before the names are revealed so it’s not unlikely that one of them is destined for you.

At least that is how you justify to yourself the jealous drive that prompts you to reach out to grab their cocks, one in each hand, jerking them off slowly but firmly.

“Fuck yeah.” Beomgyu groans, throwing his head back slightly in pleasure but keeping his eyes on you

“Your hands are so small.” Soobin marvels and Beomgyu adds, “And so soft.”

You blush, feeling shy under their intense gazes. You try to fix your clothes to cover yourself up but they immediately protest.

“No, why? You look so sexy.” Soobin cries, grabbing your hand and putting it back on his cock.

“Come on, it will get us off much faster seeing your pretty tits out like this.” Beomgyu spews filthily, and you glare up at him, but he just smirks. “Fuck, you’re even sexy when you’re angry. Wonder how much better you’ll look with your face covered in my cum and your tits covered in Soobin’s.”

The older boy squeaks at that, pushing his hips forward so the head of his long cock brushes against your nipple, smearing a light sheen of precum over it.

“Soobin!” You gasp, glaring at him, but Beomgyu cups your face and turns it towards him. “Come on, baby, let him have his fun. He’s been so good to you, hasn’t he? Eaten out that pretty little pussy so well, yeah?” He drawls out, his thumb brushing over your lips.

You get so pulled in by his heated gaze that you let Soobin do what he wants, rubbing his cock again and again across your tits while Beomgyu pushes his thumb into your mouth.

“Good girl. You wanna be such a good girl for us, don’t you?” He purrs, completely enchanting you somehow. He uses his thumb in your mouth and his grip on your face to make you nod and you let him. How is he so good at this? And why are you letting him?

“Wanna try your mouth.” He pleads, taking his thumb out of your mouth and gliding the head of his cock over your lips instead. You feel the wetness smear over them and your tongue instinctively peaks out to clean it up, in the process coming into contact with Beomgyu��s cock and making him gasp out in need. “Please.”

If you had planned to refuse him before, you couldn’t after seeing how weak and desperate just that little touch made him. You’ve been fantasizing about seeing him break again since that last time. He just looks so pretty when he loses it.

“Just the tip.” You say and he curses. “Fuck, okay, baby, anything. Need it so bad.”

And he pushes in. Just the tip as promised, but you feel like even that fills up your mouth. You wrap your lips around his head and press your tongue against the slit to lap up his precum like a lollipop. It immediately drives him mad and he throws his head back and cries out like a desperate slut. It makes you want to push him more and more so you intensify your efforts, hollowing out your cheeks and swirling your tongue around the head, watching his whole body shake as you suck and lap at the head of his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me lose it.”

“Hey, no fair, we promised to share her.” Soobin’s whine jolts you out of the spell Beomgyu cast on you and your turn your head towards him to see him try to push his cock towards your mouth too.

You take your mouth off Beomgyu, making him growl and snap at Soobin. “What the fuck, man? I was so close!”

“Beomgyu, play nice.” You scold him, secretly loving the fact that they’re fighting for your attention. Those two have made your life a hot hell for the last few weeks with their little lewd shows. They made you horny and jealous and frustrated and you love giving them just a little bit of that energy back. And secretly you’re happy and relieved that they want you too–that they have not just found each other and abandoned you–that you still have a chance with one of them.

“Binnie, I thought you wanted to fuck my tits.” You purr, repeating Beomgyu’s choice of words and making the tall boy shudder and his eyes grow heavy. Those boys really are suckers for dirty talk, huh?

“Yeah but Beomgyu–”

“No buts.” You tighten your hand around his cock and pull him forward, pressing his cock flush against the middle of your chest and shutting him up. “Press my tits together so you can fuck them nice and hard. Don’t want you to stop until they’re covered in your cum.”

Soobin sucks in a sharp breath and rushes to do as you ordered, grabbing your breasts in his big hands and pressing them together before going off at a rough choppy pace.

You feel a harsh tug at your hair as Beomgyu turns your head back towards him, your eyes meeting his narrowed ones, but as you open your mouth to chastise him for his roughness, he pushes his cock back in your mouth.

You attempt to say something but with his incessant grip at the back of your head and his sloppy thrusts into your mouth, all that comes out is a wet garbled mess. Soon, you give up, just letting your two best friends use your body to get off, their tall frames looming over you and their filthy gazes eating you up as one fucks your mouth and the other fucks your tits.

You feel so dirty yet so hot, and in that moment you understand the urge that drives those without soulmates to seek such lurid pleasures. If they end up together and you end up alone, you can see yourself falling victim to these desires. You just love them both so much, it scares you. You want them to be yours, and that terrifies you. Only one of them could be your soulmate. Neither of them could be your soulmate…

“Ah, I’m so close.” You hear Soobin whine. You try to look at him but Beomgyu doesn’t let you. Instead you see him reach out of the corner of your eyes to wrap his hand around Soobin’s cock and jerk him off fast, quickly pushing him over the edge.

You can’t see it but you know he has cum when you hear the breathy shouts of your and Beomgyu’s names and feel his hot cum splattering across your chest. You whine around Beomgyu’s cock and start resisting the way he’s moving you over his cock as you feel your jaw becoming sore and your lips getting bruised.

He sighs, letting you pull away a little bit, drool following behind his swollen length out of your mouth and down your chin and his hand as he grabs his cock it with the same hand he used to jerk Soobin off so he can now pump his own cock inches away from your face. “Ready for it, baby?”

Your mouth is so numb you can only muster out a little whimper that makes Beomgyu curse under his breath and his grip falter over his cock as he loses it, his cum shooting out in thick, white ropes over your face. You instinctively close your eyes, wincing as the warm sticky substance lands on your face.

“No, look at me.” Beomgyu growls, tugging at your hair, the sting making your eyelids crack open slightly to lock eyes with Beomgyu and witness the last of his orgasm. “Good girl. Such a good girl.”

“Fuck, that is so hot.” You hear Soobin mutter and the unmistakable wet sound of his hand moving over his spent cock as he watches Beomgyu treat you like a fucktoy.

You feel so filthy–sitting there with your shirt pulled up and your shorts pushed to the side, exposed and absolutely covered in both their cums while they stare at you as if they’re not even close to having their fill.

And you’re not either. God help you but you know that this is just the start. You’ve been pulled in and now you don’t think you can resist them anymore.

This is bad. This is so bad and you know it won’t end well.

______________________________

A/N: second chapter here, still not much plot but it will come I swear lol. the fics I have rn are so different, one only plot so far and one only smut. anyway let me know how we're feeling

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #soobin smut #ask and you shall receive #my writings

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jjtheresidentbaby · 3 days ago

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regressuary day 1: bathing/washing

» for @regressuary & link to bingo card here

» cg!vi & rg!caitlyn & cg!ekko | on my ao3 | wrd count: 2.1k+

» summary: vi finds cait beaten in an alleyway without an explanation as to why and has to care for her, thankfully ekko shows up to help

» tags: arcane agere, set sometime in season 1, hurt/comfort, injuries & blood, other enforcers hurting cait, mentioned undercity & piltover conflict, slight baby talk, nicknames

Vi scoops Caitlyn into her arms carefully, swallowing hard when she hears Cait whine in pain before clinging herself to Vi as tight as she can.

Vi isn’t sure what happened that left Caitlyn in the state she’s in: her enforcer uniform torn, scrapes at her knees, blood on her knuckles, a bruise blooming over her left eye and a split lip on her right. It’s obvious she’s been fighting, Vi just wish she knew who and why.

“Let’s get you home.” She starts the trek from the hidden alleyway towards the Kiramman property but is quickly stopped when Cait lifts her head with a shake.

“Can’t go home.” Caitlyn more mumbles than anything which worries Vi, did she hit her head? Should Vi be taking her to a doctor rather than home for some at-home-patchwork?

“Did you bump your head honey?” Truly Vi doesn’t know why she takes the soft and gentle tone with Cait when nine times out of ten they’re pretty brash with one another, but it seems to help Caitlyn relax a little.

“No jus’ my face got hurt.” Under the streetlights Vi is able to see how nasty the bruise she has really is. It’ll take weeks for that thing to fade and Vi thinks she’ll start to feel her own face ache if she keeps staring.

“Okay, I’ll talk you to my place.” Not that she really wants to take Cait in her enforcer uniform down to the Undercity but she doesn’t see any other option.

It’s rough to get to the lanes with Cait cradled in Vi’s arms but she manages somehow and only gets a couple winces from Cait. They haven’t been talking back and forth and that’s worrying Vi so she’s been trying to fill the silence on her own.

“One day I’ll talk you into eating the food down here, it’s better than it looks.” There’s so many people out tonight and every few steps Vi almost knocks into someone. It’s making her buzz with anxious energy.

“Oh and I’ll show you where me and Ekko used to train as kids, you’ll like it there. Would you wanna do that cupcake?” The nickname sounds far too dainty coming from Vi’s mouth right now, Cait nuzzles her face in further to Vi’s neck with a small nod, only making Vi more nervous. Caitlyn has never been this quiet around Vi, even when they were about to talk to the Councilors she was muttering about what to say and what not to.

“Vi?” The redhead stops in her tracks at the voice calling her name from in front of her- as if they just summoned him, it’s Ekko. At least it’s not someone looking to settle a decade old score.

“Hey Ekko.” Protectively Vi tugs Cait closer despite knowing fully well that Ekko is everything but a threat.

“I heard you were walking through the lanes carrying an enforcer around.” Ekko smirks a little as he crosses his arms and Vi falters to reply.

“Who told you that? I haven’t been down here that long.” Anyone could’ve told Ekko and the Undercity moves so quickly it’s really a useless line of questioning.

“When someone has a beaten enforcer held in their arms like a baby, it gets around pretty fast. So, you and Caitlyn get into a fight or something?” A scowl appears on Vi’s face, nearly disgusted by the thought of her doing this to Cait. Ekko just shakes his head at the expression.

“I found her like this, I don’t know what happened.” They start to walk again, Ekko leading Vi towards the path that will bring them to the firelights base, which she’s thankful for. It’ll be safer for Cait to be there than the rickety old apartment Vi’s been staying in.

“You just found her? How did you know she was hurt?”

“I didn’t. I… I was going to see if she’d let me crash for the night but she wasn’t home when I snuck in so I thought she was on patrol for the night and that’s when I found her. Nobody else was around and she hasn’t said anything about what happened.” Part of Vi thinks the other enforcers did this, Cait said she was having problems with a couple of them the last time Vi stayed over. If it’s true, she doubts Cait will want to give them up. That job means so much to her.

“You guys can stay with us tonight. I have a place you can clean her up and patch those wounds.” There’s definitely more Ekko wants to say but he’s holding back, probably because they’re still in public, Vi can’t blame him. She feels unnerved walking around like this even if nobody’s said anything to them or done more than shoot Vi a strange look.

“Thanks Ekko.”

The firelights base is just as lively and inviting as the first time Vi came in here: people buzzing around with smiles on their faces, fresh air wafting into Vi’s senses in a much nicer way than the lingering smog in the lanes, and most of all, this bass feels safe. Vi doesn’t see a single weapon around or even an angry face seeing Caitlyn’s enforcer uniform when they pass groups of people.

“I’ll go grab some water, you can untangle her from you.” There’s half a chuckle that Vi rolls her eyes at. Cait still hasn’t moved so much as an inch away from Vi, maybe Ekko’s right about untangling her being its own task.

“Hey cupcake we’re safe in here, you can take a bath and I’ll patch you up.” Gently Vi wraps a hand around the back of Cait’s head, still using the other to hold Cait up.

“Mhm.” Is the muffled reply she gets and Caitlyn’s hands gripping Vi’s jacket harder.

“Is that so? Well Ekko is being very nice by letting us use his bath, don’t you think we should oh I don’t know… actually use it?” Her voice falls to the one she’d pull out when Powder was being fussy about something when they were younger: all soft and playful teasing, nothing harsh that could make the kid feel worse. Which is funny to think about, considering Cait is not a kid and is far from it but- Vi thinks she needs to be babied a little right now.

“Hur’s.” It’s slurred and young sounding, Vi sucks in a breath. She hates seeing Cait like this when she’s usually so strong and put together.

“Oh honey. The bath will help it not hurt, okay? I’ll clean you up nice and good.” It’s not necessarily a lie but Vi isn’t sure if patching Cait’s wounds will cause less pain than what she’s already in. It has to be done though.

“That’s it little one.” Slowly, almost like she’s afraid Vi is going to disappear into thin air if she’s too far away, Caitlyn lets go of her and Vi’s able to sit her up on a chair next to the unfilled bath.

Cait looks even smaller than before. Her arms are tucked into her chest instantly, big doe eyes staring up at Vi in waiting with a wet blink, shoulders hunched together, and Vi swears there’s even a pout in her bottom lip. It makes Vi want to pull her right back up to her chest and apologize for ever putting her down until she’s blue in the face.

“Hey you got her down.” Thankfully Ekko comes back into the room with buckets of water before Vi can act on gut instinct alone and have to start the process of getting Cait to let go of her all over again.

“That should warm up quickly.” Ekko kneels on the floor for a minute, flipping a switch so some type of heating system beneath the tub starts up. Vi makes a mental note to ask how he came up with that later on.

“Stay.” Before Ekko can walk past the girls and leave them alone, Cait reaches a hand out to stop his wrist.

The room pauses for a beat until Caitlyn’s face falls and she instantly reels her hand back as if it’s been burned. Her cheeks flush in embarrassment but Ekko only smiles softly, kneeling beside the chair and taking Cait’s trembling hand into his own.

“That’s alright princess, I can stay.” He assures and gives a kiss to the top of Cait’s hand. Vi feels something like happiness swell in her chest seeing the only family she’s really got interacting in good faith. With how Cait and Powder interacted before… she’s more than grateful Ekko is being kind to Caitlyn even under the circumstances.

“Do you think you can talk blue?” Ekko is busy distracting Cait where she sits in the tub while Vi tends to the wound on the back of her shoulders. Vi can’t tell what the slice is from or how Caitlyn hasn’t been crying in pain from it. It’s long and thick, maybe a sword? But it’s not deep enough to hit anything major but still has crimson blood dribbling down it slowly.

“I can talk, m’big.” A short laugh comes from Ekko and he reaches to brush some hair off Cait’s face. Him and Vi had a quick conversation as Cait undressed about Caitlyn possibly being in a younger headspace than normal, Vi is only starting to believe Ekko’s theory more and more.

“That’s good. Do you know who did this to you?” A small whimper comes from Cait’s chest, Vi isn’t sure if it’s because she’s pressing antiseptic to her wound or because of Ekko’s question.

“It’s alright sweetheart, I’m almost done.” She murmurs just incase it is the pain causing Cait to shrink in on herself.

“And we won’t tell anyone you don’t want us to if you tell us who hurt you.” Ekko glances behind Cait’s shoulder to share a stern look with Vi- no they won’t tell anyone about who hurt Caitlyn, they won’t need to, they’ll be able to handle whoever it is on their own.

“Was the other enforcers.” ‘Enforcers’ comes out in a mumbled lisp with a sniffle that only makes the rage that quickly starts to simmer in Vi burn hotter.

“They don’t like me ‘cause I’m not like them.” From the angle Vi is leaning over the tub at, she can see how Ekko rubs his thumb at Cait’s cheek while simultaneously clenching his jaw so hard Vi can almost hear them grinding together.

“What do you mean you’re not like them?” Cait shrugs and looks away from Ekko, hands moving the water around her anxiously. She hesitates for a moment before going to speak again.

“I like you guys. I care bout you.” They don’t like her because she’s friends with people from the Undercity, because she actually gives a damn about what happens down here.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of, and you don’t deserve to get hurt for it. I’m sorry that they did that.” Vi leans herself to press her cheek to the top of Caitlyn’s shoulder where the cut doesn’t reach, Cait easily drops her head atop Vi’s, getting Vi’s hair and face wet in the process but it doesn’t matter.

“Do you know their names?” The gears turning in Ekko’s head are practically as audible as his teeth grinding, Vi can’t wait to hear what he’s planning to do to those bastards.

“Mhm. Uh Johnny, Charlotte and um.. Triv? I don’t know them very well. I fought back but..” She trails off and lifts her hands out of the water, her busted knuckles still red with the dried blood that hasn’t fully washed away.

“You did amazing baby, you did everything you could outnumbered like that.” Vi shifts to press a quick kiss to Cait’s damp skin. She really is proud of Cait for fighting back against the other enforcers, she knows it couldn’t have been easy.

“I stay the night?” One of Caitlyn’s hands reaches to rub clumsily at her eyes before she yawns all small and childish.

“Of course you can. I’ll go get some clothes for you and Vi can dry you off.” Ekko stands and grabs a towel to hand Vi before disappearing out of the room.

Vi almost expects Ekko to go off right then and there and track those enforcers down to get them back for hurting Cait but he comes back quickly with some clothes and blankets. It’s not til Cait is asleep and Professor Heimerdinger is sat by her bed that Ekko and Vi go up to Piltover to defend Caitlyn. They return out of breath and a little bruised up but before Cait wakes up. The three of them spend the rest of the night snuggled up together and safe.

#jj writes #regressuary bingo #regressuary 2025 #arcane agere #caregiver!vi arcane #little!cait kiramman #caregiver!ekko arcane #vi arcane #caitlyn kiramman #ekko arcane #caitvi #caitlyn & vi & ekko

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teslasucks37 · 2 days ago

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CW: NSFW under the cut (MDNI), semi-public sex, choking (reader receiving), afab!reader (single mention of “good girl”), dom!Charlie

A/N: This vision was thrust upon me like an act of divine intervention so it must be done

Charlie Slimecicle x Reader

Car Sex Hcs!!!

Despite his joking persona online, Charlie is usually a very calm and collected person.

He can often hold off on his… “urges” long enough to make it to an appropriate place to take care of them.

But sometimes, every once in a while, he just can’t fucking wait.

You and Charlie and a bunch of other creators all went out to a kickball field to film a video.

And despite the fact that it was for a video, everyone was trying pretty hard.

He felt sweaty, pumped up, and every time he glanced at you, he felt a tightness in his pants that he was pretty familiar with at this point.

He sighed in frustration, anxious for the game to just be over already.

When the two of you finally got back to the car, he was practically pulling you into the backseat with him.

He was pulling your shorts and panties down before you’d even settled in.

Your chest is pushed up against the cushion of the seat, your face pressed against the headrest, and your hips pulled back into him as he slides inside you.

The backseat is much too small for the both of you, but Charlie doesn’t give a damn.

He pulls as far out as he can before his back hits the front seat and slams in as far as he can go at this angle.

And he sets such a brutal fucking pace cause he’s just so damn pent up.

His hips snap back and forth, in and out, his cock slicking over your gummy walls.

Fuck it feels so good.

He’s so big and strong against you, completely overtaking any sense of control between you two.

And you would never fucking expect it from him because he’s Charlie.

Sweet, sensible, caring, Charlie.

“Fuck! Charlie~” You mumble in pleasure against the head rest.

You never would have guessed when you started seeing him that he would fuck you like this.

When you feel his hand on your head move to wrap around your throat and squeeze lightly, you know you’re fucking done for.

He’s so deep in you and every time he pulls you back he hits the perfect spot in you that makes your vision blur.

His fingers grip into the head rest next to you, trying to show even the slightest restraint.

But as your ass claps back against him, a groan falling from his mouth at the sound, he grinds deeper inside you and makes your back arch against him.

You grab at his shirt, his thighs, the seat, anything to attempt to ground yourself as the car rocks with both of your motions.

“Yeah, you like this?” He asks almost teasingly, his breath ragged and needy.

“Uh huh!” You whimper through his tantalizing grip on your neck.

Charlie struggles to maintain his composure with you at his complete mercy. “You like it when I use you?”

“Yes, yes~ Ahhh!”

“Oh, fuck…” He groans out at your response.

His brain is running on overtime to practically stay conscious, barely able to hold himself back from losing control, regardless if it breaks you.

But the slutty moans you’re letting out, not worried if anyone is still around to hear or see the car rock furiously and know exactly what was happening, imply that you wouldn’t even care if he did.

You feel your eyes rolling back, your pussy fluttering around him like a warning.

“Go ahead, baby~”

You don’t even let out a sound, just an open mouthed exhale as you squirt around his cock and soak the pleather of his car seats.

Charlie groans at the sensation, a crooked smile lighting up his face. “That’s it… Good girl~”

Let’s just say he keeps you there until the sun starts to set and the windows fog up.

He, of course, lets you get any fast food you want on the way home.

#smut #charlie slimecicle #slimecicle #charlie slimesicle x reader #slimecicle x reader #charlie slimecicle smut #moots help

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boybandbaby · 2 days ago

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The Sweet Escape Part III

911 AU (Prince!Evan Buckley x Fem!Baker!Reader)

previous part

word count: 1926

warnings/tags: angst (I’m a pick me with the way I love the dramatics), classist comment, as always if I miss anything lmk

note: this is a short chapter

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You’re anxious to deliver today and hoping Buck isn’t waiting for you. Though, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see him. After yesterday, your crush is no longer just that but is fully realized and developed into love for him.

You can’t say you didn’t try, you almost got engaged to the man. You think Buck might know that you actually do have feelings for him even if you didn’t outright state it.

Somewhere between the lines of your statement, “It’ll never work between us. We come from different worlds. We’re too different” lies a confession, you think. One that says I want to be with you but it’ll be too hard and I’ll never live up to the expectations people have for me as your wife.

You think he might actually be in love with you too. “She’s perfect for me.” He had said. All the years of his antics and kitchen visits might be saying everything he can’t.

None of that matters now. He’s engaged. And not to you.

As you descend the stairs, the place just the previous night where yours and Buck’s hearts broke, you hear Bobby explaining the process of making a perfect omelette to Buck. You know he’s there because of course he’s asking questions while Bobby speaks, impatient for knowledge.

“Good morning.” You smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Hi.” Buck breathes airily, grabbing the box from you.

“Thanks.” You don’t fight him like you usually do, something about being a strong independent woman who doesn’t need his help. Your hands graze each others as you pass him the box.

“Hi Bobby.” You wave to him, hoping to act as normal as you possibly can. “What’s for breakfast?”

You already know but you need any conversation to fill the space.

“Omelettes. Would you like one?” He asks, eyes flickering between you and Buck. Buck has already told him everything that happened yesterday, made sure to do it before you arrived.

“Yes, please. If that’s okay.” You quietly state.

Bobby is surprised as you’ve always turned down his offers to eat. He figures you’ve had a long night and he can see it on your face. He asks what you’d like in yours and you tell him.

Buck is surprisingly quiet as he watches you slip gloves on. You pass him a pair and silently work side by side as he hands you each baked good from the box.

“Congratulations, by the way.” You whisper, only for him to hear.

“Oh… yeah, thanks.” He matches your volume.

“And thank you for inviting me. I never got to say that last night.”

“I’m sorry about the way things turned out. I hope you know I never would’ve put you in that position had I known it was going be like that.” He holds onto your hand instead of handing you the next pastry.

“I don’t blame you for anything, Buck. Your parents are who they are and they have their beliefs and we can’t change that.” You smile softly, pulling your hands from his. “Plus, they’re thinking about what’s best for everyone.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

“When you’re King, I hope you’re not a jerk like your dad though.” You laugh.

“And hopefully I don’t get his hairline and wrinkles.” He adds.

You’re both laughing as you finish adding the last piece of coffee cake.

“Buck, here, I made you something to eat too.” Bobby hands him two plates with forks tucked under the omelette. Bobby widens his eyes, trying to send Buck a message. Buck surprisingly understand immediately.

Buck nods his head to the side, a small wooden table that the kitchen crew uses for their breaks. You slip off your gloves, hands clammy as you wipe them on your apron. Buck sets both plates down, one next to the other.

He jumps into action as he sees you slipping your apron strap over your head. He puts both hands on your shoulders and turn you around. His hands slowly run along the two straps tied around your back. It’s unnecessary but feels really nice. He pulls the ties loose and you catch the apron before it hits the ground. You throw it over the edge of the table before he pulls the chair out for you to sit.

It oddly feels like a first date but you know it’s just breakfast with a friend. A friend you may not be able to actually be friends with for much longer. His duties will take him away and you’ll see him less and less. You’ll get the feeling you felt in his absence when he went away for college. He came back that time but you’re not sure you’ll get him back this time.

“How’s your grandma?” He asks as he fills two glasses of water, setting them down then sitting.

“She’s good. Just working a lot. She won’t admit it but she’s starting to slow down. It’s great having Ravi around but he’ll be leaving soon to travel.” You admit.

“You plan on hiring someone else?” He inquires.

“Yeah, we’ll have to. We already have someone in mind but not sure when he can get here.”

“At least you have someone in mind. I could always come help out.” He offers.

“Have you ever baked anything in your life?” You laugh.

“No, but I could try. I’m a fast learner, right Bobby?” Buck calls out to him.

“He just needs to be coached, y/n. Takes a few tries but once he gets it, he’s good. I will say he creates a mess in my kitchen though.”

“That was one time! I spilled the soup one time.”

“Spilled an entire pot of soup just minutes before it was going to be served.” Bobby gives him a look. “Had to take the blame when his mom came down here.”

“Which I’m still sorry about by the way.” He laughs.

You watch him as he goes back and forth with Bobby. He seems so comfortable and carefree unlike when he’s in the spotlight. He has to put on a mask and persona when he’s outside of these walls.

“Well, I’ve got to get going before the bakery opens. Thank you for the food, Bobby.” You collect the plates and utensils before Buck takes them from you.

“And thank you for the hospitality.” You look down to your shoes, the toes touching Buck’s as he stands in front of you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He lightly kicks your toe.

“Always.” You smile, kicking his toe back.

Buck lingers in the kitchen, hoping to avoid his duties today. Luck is not on his side.

“Why are you down here?” He heard the voice of his fiancé.

“I like to help out in the mornings.” He says softly.

“Well, I don’t want to worry about my husband sneaking off with some villager.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

“She’s just a friend, June.” Buck refrains from rolling his eyes.

“Is this another friend you’ve slept with or?” June checks her nails, disgust in her tone.

“No, we’ve never slept together.” He sighs. “If we’re going to be married then you’re going to have to trust me.”

“If we’re going to be married then you’re going to have to cut her out of your life.”

You groan as you realize you’ve forgotten your apron on the table. You make your way back into the kitchen when you hear his voice.

“June, Y/n doesn’t mean anything to me. I swear.”

You’d wish you didn’t hear it but you did. You wished you didn’t forget your apron, that way you would’ve never heard it but you wish most of all he didn’t say it.

You think you really need to stop eavesdropping because it does no good for your mental health. The apron is not important, you can always get a new one. You sneak back out and head home, for good.

The bell above the door rings, bringing you out of your dazed state. You’d gotten too much sleep this morning, having given Ravi your palace delivery and hours. In almost 10 years, you hadn’t slept past 5:30am so your body is not used to the rest.

You continue writing in your notebook, brainstorming ideas for new seasonal recipes, not looking to see who has just come in. Your mind is unfocused, bouncing between Buck’s words and the summer strawberry rhubarb pie recipe.

“Good morning.” Buck smiles, bright and chirpy.

When you don’t answer, Ravi steps in. “Uhh good morning sir, welcome in.”

“Hey Ravi.” He waves. “Y/n, you didn’t come by this morning. You forgot your apron yesterday,” Buck tosses you the apron, walking towards the windows where you have a table displaying different pastries.

“Don’t touch anything, Buckley.” You scold.

“I’m just looking.” He raises his hands, smiling. You roll your eyes at him and watch as he intertwines his hands behind his back and leans over to smell a basket of muffins.

“Don’t hover. You’re going to get germs on the bread and then we can’t sell it.” You slam the notebook you were writing in.

“Sorry, bossy.” He smirks. He thinks you’re back to your regularly scheduled banter.

You look up from the counter where you’d begin assembling boxes and meet his eyes. You ignore his question before taking a stack of built boxes over to the storage wall.

“Here let me.” He runs over and attempts to take the boxes from you.

“I can do it.” You pull back from him.

“Just let me help, you’re so stubborn.” He nudges your shoulder.

“I don’t want your help!” You screech before the boxes tumble to the floor. “Look what you made me do! Why are you even here?” You grumble before dropping to your knees to collect the boxes.

Your face is turned down as tears roll down your cheeks and nose, dripping from the tip of your nose and off your chin.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I just wanted to help. That’s all.” Bucks eyes widen when he sees a tear fall onto your cream colored apron. “I came because I was worried about you. You’ve been doing deliveries to us every day since you were 15.”

“Worried about me? Yeah right.” You stand on wobbly feet and make your way to the storage and stack the boxes one by one.

Buck is stunned at your change of behavior. He no longer believes you’re bantering like friends but that you’re hurt by something he did. Yesterday morning had been the happiest he’s been in months despite being engaged to a woman he barely knew. It was the first time you both had “hung out.” A short 20 minute breakfast where he wasn’t Prince Evan and you weren’t doing bakery duties.

All it took was 20 minutes for Buck to feel what it could be like to be normal and maybe be with you. 20 minutes that allowed him to breathe and just be.

He’s wondering what happened in the span of 24 hours to get you to do a 180 on him. He follows you, face confused and flushed with fear.

“Y/n, what’s going on?” He places a hand on your waist, trying to get you to turn back to him. Trying to get you to communicate what he did that’s made you so angry.

“Just go, Buckley.” You wave him off. “And please don’t come back here.” It’s not yelled or spat with venom. He realizes now that you’re not angry with him but hurt by him.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

next part

#911 abc #911 x you #evan buckley x reader #911 x reader #evan buckley x you

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crdteezv · 8 hours ago

Text

The Project - Haechan + Ten

Paring: !popular guy! haechan x ! popular guy! ten x f! reader

Genre: college! au, smut

Synopsis: You're paired with the most popular guys in your school, Ten and Haechan, for a group project. Everyone seems to love them and fall for their charm but you simply couldn’t understand it why. But now you are caught between two best friends feeling yourself entangled by them…

Warnings: smut. !teasing dom! haechan/ten, the reader can be a little shy at times, sub reader, mention/use of alcohol, dirty talk, teasing, praise/ slight degradation, heavy cumplay(you have been warned…) (3some), oral (f. giving), thigh riding, edging, hair pulling, manhelded, light voyeurism, slight dacryphilia, drunk/unprotected sex

Word Count: 10.5k words

A/N: Listen I made this fic to feed into my own delusions because I want them both so bad. It’s the way I never see anyone make a fic of the both of them…

At first, the library was silent, except for the soft rustling of pages and the quiet footsteps of those browsing the shelves. You sat at a wooden table near the back, chin propped on your hand, eyes flicking between the textbook in front of you and the half-empty Word document glowing dimly on your laptop. The project was due next week, and despite your better judgment, you’d somehow end up stuck with the most well-known people in your school: Ten and Haechan.

Everyone at the college loved them—Ten for his effortless charm and quick wit, and Haechan for his playful smirk and endless energy. Together, they were practically irresistible. You, however, weren’t so easily impressed. Sure, they were undeniably attractive—maybe even annoyingly so, but their constant antics were exhausting.

Ten lounged across from you, lazily twirling a pen between his fingers as he skimmed through a stack of notes. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and every so often, he’d push it back with an easy flick of his wrist. Meanwhile, Haechan slouched to your left, half-heartedly typing while humming a pop song under his breath. They were supposed to help with the presentation, but all they did was interrupt and bicker.

“Seriously, can you guys focus?” you snapped, patience wearing thin.

Haechan huffed, crossing his arms. “Tell him to stop acting like he’s some kind of gaming expert.”

Ten scoffed, leaning back. “I can’t help it if I’m just naturally better.”

“You’re not,” Haechan shot back.

“Your aim is trash.”

“And yet, I still clutched that last round,” Ten said smugly. “

That was lag!”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Oh my god, can you two drop it and actually help? You’re annoying everyone.”

Haechan snickered, leaning back in his chair. “Relax. No one cares. They’re too busy pretending to study while sneaking glances at me and Ten.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe if you spent less time worrying about your stupid little video game, we’d get something done.”

Ten leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm, eyes glittering with amusement. “Are you always this uptight, or are you planning hard to get and you secretly love being in our group?”

That was the last straw. “I don’t love anything about this group, except how fast I’m leaving once we’re done.”

Your voice had risen just enough to catch the librarian’s attention. She shot you a sharp glare over her glasses, arms crossed in clear disapproval.

“Enough. Take your noise elsewhere—you’re too loud.”

Before you could protest, she was already ushering you, Haechan, and Ten toward the exit. You muttered apologies, but it was clear you weren’t welcome back anytime soon.

Once outside, you whirled on them. “Great. Where are we supposed to work now?”

Ten and Haechan were laughing, clearly not taking you seriously.

“Oh, you think this is funny?” you snapped.

Haechan tried to collect himself, but his grin gave him away. “Sorry, it’s just… we’ve didn’ never seen you this mad before.”

“Well, maybe that’s because I actually wanted to start this project, and neither of you has even looked at it,” you huffed.

That seemed to guilt them—at least a little. Ten placed a hand on your shoulder, offering a small smile. “Hey, we’re sorry for the dumb arguments. It’s always this guy’s fault for starting them anyway.”

“Hey!” Haechan protested, offended.

You chuckled despite yourself, feeling a bit better. With a sigh, you said, “Come on, let’s just work at my dorm.”

They exchanged glances before nodding.

Ten smirked. “Good idea. At least your dorm won’t have a cranky librarian.”

You all laughed as you headed off together.

Back in your apartment dorm, the air felt heavier, more intimate. The space seemed to amplify the tension, especially knowing you’d be stuck with Ten and Haechan for the next few hours, your sanctuary invaded.

Trying to ignore their amused chatter, you moved through the space, heading to your room to change into something more comfortable—a cropped top and loose shorts. It was nothing unusual, but when you stepped back out, you noticed their eyes lingering.

Haechan’s usual smirk faltered for just a second, his gaze flicking from your bare waist to your thighs before he quickly looked away. Ten, on the other hand, didn’t even try to hide it. His eyes roamed over you with an intensity that sent a prickle down your spine, a slow smile tugging at his lips.

“Nice outfit,” he said casually, leaning back against the wall. His tone was light, but there was something else in his gaze—something new.

“Yeah,” Haechan added, his voice quieter than usual. “It’s… cute.”

You crossed your arms, ignoring the sudden warmth in your face. “Thanks… now let's focus, we have a lot of work to do.”

But as the evening dragged on, the shift in the air became impossible to ignore. Ten’s gaze lingered a little too long, and Haechan’s teasing remarks carried a different edge. You became hyper-aware of every move, every accidental brush of skin as you worked side by side. And though you’d never admit it, a small part of you didn’t entirely mind.

You start to wonder if you can even handle being in a group with them…

A few days had passed, and the three of you had gradually started working more on the project together. But today, it was just you and Ten. Haechan was stuck at soccer practice so he wasn’t able to make it. You couldn’t ignore the tension between you.

Ten sat across from you at the dining table, his dark eyes scanning his screen, though his focus seemed divided. You could feel his gaze lingering—on your face, your hands, the curve of your neck.

“Something wrong?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you typed away.

“No.” He leaned back in his chair, stretching with an exaggerated sigh. The hem of his hoodie lifted slightly, revealing a sliver of toned skin. “Just thinking about how weird it is without Haechan here. It’s so quiet.”

It was noticeably quieter without Haechan filling every silence with endless chatter.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” you muttered, glancing up at him. “We might actually get something done.”

Ten’s lips curled into a slow, almost dangerous smile. “You don’t like working with him?”

“I don’t like either of you, to be honest. But I don’t have a choice,” you corrected.

His gaze sharpened, watching you intently, and it was starting to unravel something inside you.

“Are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“This cranky,” he teased. “Every time we work on this project, you never loosen up.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be if I wasn’t the one doing all the work. “You two barely help as it is and never focus when I try to talk to you about it.”

Ten pushed his laptop aside, folding his arms on the table as he leaned in closer, his eyes tracing over your features. “I can fix that,” he murmured. “I’ll start paying more attention.” His gaze flickered downward, lingering just a moment too long.

You shifted in your seat, avoiding his eyes.

“You know, you’re different when we’re alone.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re… more shy,” he said.

His gaze dipped briefly before returning to yours, amusement dancing in his eyes. “And you’re more on edge…maybe even nervous?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He smirked. “Then why can’t you look me in the eye, love?”

The pet name caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you could respond, his fingers grazed the back of your hand—a fleeting touch, but one that sent a trail of warmth up your arm.

The air between you shifted. The room felt smaller, the distance between you shrinking even though neither of you had moved.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured.

“I—” you started, but the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing in the world worth focusing on—made your voice falter. He got up from his seat and made his way over to you and sat beside you.

He then leaned in, closing the space between you. His lips met yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening it. Before you knew it, you were on the couch, straddling his lap.

Ten’s hands found your waist as your fingers tangled in his hair. The soft groan he let out when you shifted against him sent a shiver down your spine. You tested the friction between you, and his fingers tightened their grip, anchoring you in place. His lips left yours, trailing hot kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“Fuck, Ten… we shouldn’t be doing this. We have so much—”

Your words cut off with a sharp inhale as his hands slid lower, cupping your ass.

A quiet whimper escaped before you could stop it.

“Oh, come on, sweetie,” he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips. “We’re just taking a little break, right?”

Typical. He always found a way to get what he wanted.

“Besides… you could use one after working so hard on this project, don’t you think?”

You could only nod, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him closer. Your hips rolled against him, and his grip on you tightened. He let out a low groan, his control slipping.

“Mhm, since you love grinding on me so much,” he murmured, his voice low, “how about you do that for me on my thigh?”

You blinked, taken aback. “You can’t be serious…”

“Very.” His gaze darkened, sharp, and unwavering.

Hesitantly, you straddled his thigh, your body already aching for more. As you began to move, the friction sent a rush of pleasure through you, a soft whimper slipping past your lips. Ten’s grip on your waist tightened, his breath hitching.

“God, you look so good like this,” he coaxed.

“Shut up—”

He flexed his thigh beneath you, and the sudden pressure made you moan—a sound that caught both of you off guard.

“Aww,” he cooed, voice dripping with amusement. “It’s cute that you think you can talk back to me.” His fingers traced slow circles over your hips. “Besides… you like the attention I’m giving you.”

You finally understood the pull he had on people. He always knew exactly what to say, effortlessly drawing them in, keeping them hanging on his every word. And somehow, you’d fallen right into his hands.

Your movements quickened, the tension in your body coiling tighter. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, barely able to hold yourself together.

“Mhm, are you close, my pretty girl?” he hummed and all you could do was nod.

“Then let go for me.”

With a final roll of your hips, pleasure crashed over you, leaving you trembling against him. You barely registered the mess you had made, too lost in the lingering high.

“Damn,” Ten chuckled, running a hand through your hair. “You were really pent up, huh?”

Embarrassment flooded through you. You couldn’t even look at him. You had completely fallen into his trap.

“Whatever,” you muttered, scrambling off him. "Can we just clean up now and actually get back to work on this project?"

He laughed and agreed, the teasing glint in his eyes never fading. But as you got up to grab a washcloth, he caught your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Just know this isn’t over,” he murmured, his voice lower, more serious. “We’ll continue this another time.”

You stared at him, startled by the weight of his words—like he meant every single one. Slowly, you nodded, signaling your understanding.

The two of you cleaned up and got back to work, but no matter how hard you tried to focus, you couldn’t shake what had just happened. And the worst part? You weren’t sure if you wanted to.

A few days later…

Haechan showed up at your dorm much earlier than expected, that same cocky look on his face as he breezed in, making himself at home. You should’ve been annoyed, but strangely, you weren’t.

"Where’s Ten?" he asked, walking right past you and flopping onto your bed like he actually lives here.

“He’s coming later,” you muttered, trying to ignore how his legs sprawled out, taking up way too much of the bed.

“Guess it’s just us then,” he said, his smirk widening as he propped himself up on his elbows. “You don’t look thrilled.”

You rolled your eyes and tried to focus on the project in front of you, but before you could, Haechan was leaning over your shoulder, his breath brushing your ear as he glanced at your screen.

“So, how was working with Ten last time? I bet you missed me,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You couldn’t help but think back to the last time you’d worked with Ten. The memory of it made heat rise in your chest, and you wondered, just for a moment, if Ten had told Haechan about what had happened between you two.

“Not in the slightest,” you shot back. “I get more work done with him than I ever do with you.”

“So you like him more than me?” Haechan asked, his voice laced with a mock pout.

“Well, I didn’t say all that…” You paused, looking down at your hands. “It’s just quieter when you’re not around. And I will admit, I sometimes kind of miss—actually, never mind.”

You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. He wanted to tease you about whatever you were about to say.

“Don’t stop now, sweetheart. What were you going to say?” His voice turned flirtatious, the kind of tone that made your stomach twist in ways you hated to admit.

You hated when he did this—when he played with you, knowing just how to push your buttons. He loved seeing you become a mess, trying to keep your composure while he unraveled you bit by bit.

“It’s nothing, alright? Now, unlike you, I actually care about passing, so can you please stop teasing me and help me with this work?” you snapped, trying to get back to the project.

But instead of listening, he swiveled your chair to face him, locking eyes with you. His usual playful gaze was now replaced with something deeper, something more intense. He was towering over you as you sat up to look at him, his hands resting firmly on the armrests of your chair as he leaned down, looking at you with an intensity that made you catch your breath.

“Forget about the work for a second and focus on me,” he murmured, with one of his hands slowly creeping down to your thigh. “I want to know what you were going to say.”

Your breath hitched, and your heart raced as his thumb moved in slow circles against your skin. You couldn’t find your words. His touch felt like fire, and it left you frozen.

“I was going to say that I kind of missed you…” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you immediately regretted it.

He gave a low, amused chuckle. “Wait, really? I thought you didn’t like me because I always talk your ear off. ”His tone was playful, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice.

You swallowed hard, fingers gripping the edge of the chair. “Well, I don’t mind it, to be honest. You kind of help me unwind when you make me laugh. Your jokes really do help, and they make me forget about the project for a bit. Not that Ten isn’t funny... he is, just quieter and mostly keeps to himself, you know?”

Haechan was quiet for a moment, clearly surprised by your confession. He genuinely thought you didn’t like him. But now, hearing you say this, something shifted in his expression. Maybe you’d grown a little soft for him after all.

Haechan’s eyes softened, just for a moment, before the smirk returned, wider and more confident than before. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as his fingers lingered on your thigh, the contact sending a jolt of heat through you.

“Didn’t think I had that effect on you,” he murmured, voice low and teasing.

You tried to steady your breath, feeling his proximity like a weight pressing against you. Every inch of your body screamed for you to move away, but something in you didn’t want to. Something was pulling you in, and you couldn’t quite understand why.

“I bet you do this to all the girls you mess with,” you said, rolling your eyes as you turned your chair back around to focus on the work.

Haechan chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear in a way that made it hard to think. “Only the ones I really want,” he replied, his voice low, almost a whisper.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying to focus on the work in front of you, but it felt impossible with him so close. The heat from his body, the way his breath ghosted over your skin—it was all too much.

"Why are you doing this?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper as your typed away on your laptop.

His lips curled into that familiar smirk, but now it had a sharper edge. "Because I can," he said simply, his thumb making slow, deliberate circles on your skin. "And because you haven’t told me to stop."

You gasped at his words, but couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. Instead, something inside you shifted, and the line between annoyance and attraction started to come together.

"I-I thought you were here to help me with the project," you said, trying to break the tension with a half-hearted attempt at humor.

"Who says we can’t multitask?" His grin widened as he moved to side of you so he can look down at you and see the bashful look on your face. "Besides, I think we’re doing a pretty good job of it already."

Your pulse quickened, and you realized you weren’t sure where this was headed anymore. The teasing and flirting were growing more intense, more real, and you couldn’t decide if you wanted him to stop or keep going.

Before you could respond, he lowered his voice again, towering down to the side of your face with his lips dangerously close to your ear. “So, what’s it gonna be? You want me to help with the work... or something else?”

The question hung in the air, thick with anticipation, and you knew there was no turning back now.

Haechan's eyes never left yours, his smirk deepening as he slowly, deliberately, moved closer. His hands found the armrests of your chair, trapping you in place as he loomed over you, his presence all-consuming. Your breath hitched, heart hammering against your ribs as the heat between you both thickened.

“I’m still waiting for an answer,” he murmured, his voice like velvet, wrapping around you, making it impossible to ignore the way he was looking at you—like he had already won.

Your fingers twitched over your laptop keyboard, but your mind was blank. The work in front of you might as well have been in another language for all the attention you could give it. Haechan knew it too. He could see the way your lips parted slightly, the way your body betrayed you, leaning in despite yourself.

He then knelt down for a kiss.

Soft at first, like he was testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull away, he tilted his head and deepened it. His lips moved against yours with slow, intoxicating confidence, his tongue slipping between them, tasting you, claiming you. A low hum of satisfaction rumbled from his chest as he pressed closer, bending down to make up for the height difference while you sat frozen in your chair.

But he didn’t want to keep bending down to reach you.

Without warning, he grabbed your laptop, placed it on the bed, and shoved everything off your desk, letting it scatter carelessly.

He grabbed you, and picked you up as if it was nothing. A small gasp left your lips, but it was swallowed by the intensity of his kiss as he carried you to the desk.

“Hey—” you barely got the protest out before he set you down on the cleared desk, stepping between your thighs and pulling you flush against him.

“You’ll live,” he murmured against your lips, his hands already roaming, fingers tracing the hem of your shirt, gripping your waist like he owned you.

Your hands found his broad shoulders, gripping onto him for stability, but really, you just wanted to feel him, to confirm this was real. He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his dark eyes flickering with something dangerous. “You taste even better than I thought,” he admitted, smirking as he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, teasing, testing.

You swallowed hard, your skin burning from his touch, from the way he was looking at you like he wanted to devour you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him close, not wanting him to leave.

“You’re so full of yourself,” you muttered, though your voice lacked any real bite.

“Only because I know what I want.”

He was kissing you again, harder this time, hungrier. His hands slid up your thighs, gripping them as he pressed closer, trapping you between his body and the desk.You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but the way he tasted, the way his fingers gripped your skin and how his tongue moved with yours as if he had all the time in the world.

Then, suddenly, he pulled away, only to take your place in the chair. He sat down, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer, settling you on his lap like you belonged there.

“There,” he breathed, looking up at you with hooded eyes, his fingers brushing your hair back before trailing down your spine. “Much better.”

Your heart raced in your chest, your fingers threading through his dark hair as you looked down at him, breathless, caught between disbelief and raw desire. The way he gazed up at you, lips swollen from kissing, hands on your hips, fingers grazing the hem of your shirt—it was clear this wasn’t over.

Haechan’s touch grew bolder, his fingers slipping under your shirt, leaving a trail of fire on your skin as he leaned in, his lips brushing your neck. His hand moved lower, fingertips skimming the waistband of your shorts before slipping inside. Your breath caught as his fingers found your heat, his touch deliberate and teasing.

“Look at you,” he whispered, voice thick with desire, his fingers pressing where you needed them most. “Already so wet for me.”

Your grip on his shoulders tightened as he worked you slowly, his fingers curling, coaxing pleasure from you with each calculated stroke. The way he watched you, reveling in your little reactions. Your hips moved against his hand, chasing the sensation, but he kept you on the edge, never giving you quite enough.

Just as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge, a sharp knock at your front door broke the moment.

Both of you froze. Your breath was ragged, your body trembling as you tried to make sense of reality again. Haechan’s fingers still rested inside you, a silent, frustrated pause between you before the knock came again, louder this time.

“Shit,” you whispered, scrambling to reach for your phone as it buzzed on the desk beside you.

Haechan smirked, watching you with lazy amusement as you answered the call, pressing the phone to your ear while attempting to steady your breathing.

“Hey, I’m here I’ve been knocking on your door for awhile now,” Ten’s voice came through, oblivious to what he had just interrupted. “Are you home? Also, I remember Haechan told me he was going to be there earlier than me. Is he with you right now?”

You were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t hear Ten knocking on your door for the past five minutes. You swallowed hard, forcing your voice to sound normal, despite the heat still pulsing through your veins. “Uh—yeah! Yes, I’m home and yeah he is here. I’ll be there in a second.”

You ended the call, exhaling sharply, your gaze snapping to Haechan, who hadn’t moved an inch. His smirk deepened, his fingers brushing over your thigh before pulling away completely, leaving you aching, unsatisfied.

“Guess you have to go let him in,” he murmured, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You shot him a glare before scrambling off his lap, your legs still shaky as you hurried to fix your clothes. The smug look on his face only made your frustration grow.

The project was finally turned in, freeing the three of you from hours of cramped sessions, awkward tension, and the intense moments that had built up between you and each of them.You thought you could finally breathe—maybe even return to normal. But as you sat in your dorm with Ten and Haechan sprawled lazily on your bed, your mind kept drifting back to everything that had happened.

Since you had all worked so hard on the project, you figured you deserved to celebrate, cracking open a bottle of your favorite alcohol and passing around shot glasses. The familiar burn of liquor settled in your stomach as the three of you took turns, the warmth spreading through your veins.

Haechan, as usual, wore that signature smirk of his, arm draped over the edge of the bed as he teased Ten about something trivial. Ten, leaning back against your headboard with his legs crossed, watched in quiet amusement, his dark eyes flicking between you and Haechan. The dynamic between them was as natural as ever—so why did it feel like you were under a microscope every time Ten’s gaze lingered on you?

“You’re quiet,” he noted, his voice smooth yet concerned. “You’re always like that, but this time it feels… different.”

“I’m fine,” you said, forcing reassurance into your tone. “Just relieved we finally finished the project.”

“You want to get rid of us that quickly, huh?” Haechan teased, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“Well, not necessarily… I just—”

“Oh, stop teasing her. You’re making her uncomfortable when you do that,” Ten interjected, rolling his eyes.

“What? It’s a valid question,” Haechan scoffed, sitting up a little. “She even said herself that once the project was over, she was done with us. Hell, I’m surprised she even invited us back to her place.”

You hesitated, his words lingering. He wasn’t entirely wrong. At the beginning, you hadn’t wanted to be grouped with them. But after spending so much time together, you had started to see them differently—especially after everything that had happened between the three of you.

Ten studied you, sharp gaze reading you too well. “Actually… he has a point.” His voice was quieter now, more curious than teasing. “What changed?”

You swallowed, glancing between them. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “Maybe... maybe I just got used to you guys.”

Haechan smirked, leaning in slightly. “Got used to us, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

The air in the room thickened again, that same tension from the past week creeping back in. But this time, there was no project keeping you together—only whatever this was, simmering beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged.

Haechan’s playful expression never wavered, the alcohol loosening his tongue. “Oh, you got used to us alright—especially with me. Do you remember what happened the other day when it was just us alone?”

Your heart stopped. He was bluffing. He had to be. He wouldn’t—

Ten’s eyebrows lifted, his smirk deepening. “The other day? What happened the other day?”

“Nothing,” you blurted, shooting Haechan a sharp look. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. The alcohol just getting to him.

“Oh, but you know exactly what I’m talking about, love.” Haechan leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he grinned at you placing his hand on his cheek. “And I think Ten might want to know how—”

“Okay!” you cut him off, your voice a bit too loud. “How about we play a game instead of… whatever this is?”

Ten’s gaze flicked between you and Haechan, curiosity piqued, but he let it slide—for now. He reached for his drink, shrugging. “Sure. What game?”

“Truth or dare,” Haechan suggested immediately, his grin looking sinster.

You hesitated, knowing full well this could only end badly. But with both of them watching you expectantly, you nodded. “Fine.”

At first, the game was harmless. Ten dared Haechan to chug his drink; Haechan asked Ten about the weirdest place he’d ever hooked up with someone. But it didn’t take long for the questions to turn more personal, the tension thickening with each round.

Finally, it was Haechan’s turn to ask you. He leaned back, swirling his drink lazily as he fixed you with a look that made your stomach churn. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.

His grin widened. “What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to try but never had the chance to?”

You hesitated, your mind racing. You could lie and say something safe, but the alcohol buzzing in your veins made your tongue slip. “I’ve…always kind of wanted to try a threesome,” you admitted, your face burning the moment the words left your mouth.

The room went silent.

You didn’t dare look at either of them, but you could feel their stares, the weight of their shock, and something else entirely.

“Wow,” Ten finally said, his voice low and laced with amusement. “Did not see that coming.”

Haechan, on the other hand, laughed outright, his grin practically splitting his face. “Shit, really? A threesome?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, covering your face with your hands. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Oh no, no, no,” Ten said, his tone teasing. “You can’t drop something like that and then get shy about it. That’s not how this works.”

“Yeah,” Haechan added, shifting closer to you on the bed. “Now we’re curious.”

You peeked through your fingers, gaze darting between them. Ten’s smirk was sharper than ever, and Haechan was looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive.

“What are you guys doing?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” Ten said innocently, though the look in his eyes told a different story. “Just wondering if that’s something you’d want to… explore.”

Your heart pounded. “You’re joking.”

“Does it look like we’re joking?” Haechan asked, his hand coming to rest on your knee. The touch was light, but it sent a shiver up your spine.

“This is crazy,” you said, shaking your head, but neither of them moved away.

“Maybe,” Ten said, leaning in closer. “But you’re not telling us to stop.”

Before you could respond, Haechan’s hand slid higher, his fingers brushing against your thigh. At the same time, Ten’s fingers found your chin, tilting your face toward him. His dark eyes searched yours, waiting for hesitation. When he didn’t find any, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft yet teasing, coaxing you to relax.

Haechan wasn’t as patient. His lips found your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your skin, his hand still inching up your thigh.

Ten’s touch slid beneath your shirt, tracing the curve of your waist. “You’re shaking,” he murmured against your lips, voice low, almost cruel. “What’s the matter? Too much for you?”

Haechan chuckled against your skin, his teeth grazing your collarbone. “Bet you’re loving every second of this, though. Aren’t you?”

You couldn’t answer—couldn’t do anything but let out a soft whimper as Ten’s hands slid higher, fingertips grazing your heated skin. Haechan’s lips found your ear, his breath warm and teasing as he whispered darkly,

“Let’s see how much you can take.”

Ten’s lips left yours, but his dark eyes never wavered from your face. A slow smirk played on his lips as he studied you—needy, breathless, already trembling. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice cutting through the thick haze of arousal clouding your mind. “So worked up already, and we’ve barely even touched you.”

Haechan’s grip on your thigh tightened, his palm searing through the thin fabric of your shorts. He leaned back slightly, gaze raking over your parted lips, the way your chest rose and fell with each uneven breath. “You’re acting so shy,” he murmured, voice laced with amusement, “but I can feel how much you want this. You’re practically shaking.”

You opened your mouth to retort, to defend yourself, but the words died in your throat when Ten’s hand slid beneath the hem of your shirt, his fingertips grazing your bare skin. He started to grope at your chest, making you whimper. The teasing softness of his touch sent a shiver up your spine, and Haechan let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the sight of you caught between the two of them.

Haechan chuckled lowly, clearly enjoying how easily you melted between them. “What’s the matter?” His voice dripped with mockery. “Are you scared? Or are you too busy imagining what it’d be like if we really gave you what you wanted?

Your breath hitched, and warmth rushed to your face at the bluntness of his words. “You’re… you’re both ridiculous,” you managed, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Ten tilted his head, his smirk widening. “Oh, we’re ridiculous?” His fingers trailed down to your ribs, causing you to shudder. “Says the one who just admitted they’ve been fantasizing about a threesome.” He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “You’re not very good at hiding how much you want this, you know.”

The warmth in your face spreads down your neck and throughout your whole body. The alcohol was starting to take effect, making you feel hot all over. You instinctively tried to pull back, but Haechan’s grip on your thigh tightened, keeping you locked in place.

“Don’t go running now,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “We’re just getting started.”

Ten’s fingers found your chin again, tilting your face toward his. “That’s right,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “You’re going to stay right here and take what we give you, aren’t you?”

Your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might die in this moment, and when Ten’s lips captured yours again, you felt like you were going to pass out. This kiss was deeper—hungrier—his tongue teasing yours with a deliberate slowness that drove you insane. You couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped you when Haechan’s hand slid higher, his fingertips teasing the edge of your shorts.

Ten pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “Why don’t you show us how much you want this?” he said, his tone equal parts coaxing and commanding. “Go ahead, pick one of us.”

Your eyes widened, darting between the two of them. The weight of their gazes, the smugness of their smirks—it was overwhelming. It sent a hot pulse of anticipation pooling between your thighs. Finally, you reached out, fingers trembling slightly as they pressed against Ten’s chest.

His smirk softened into something darker, more possessive. “Good choice,” he murmured, and before you could second-guess yourself, he was pulling you onto his lap. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you to straddle him.

“You’re lucky,” Haechan drawled from behind, his tone rich with amusement as he leaned lazily against the headboard, watching the two of you with a grin.

Ten chuckled, his hands sliding up your sides as he kissed you again. This time, his lips and tongue worked with slow, deliberate precision, savoring the way you melted beneath him. Behind you, Haechan’s presence loomed—his gaze burning into your back as he observed every shift, every sound you made.

“You look good like this,” Haechan murmured after a moment, voice low and teasing. “All desperate and needy. I wonder if you’ll look even better bent over for us.”

The words sent a jolt of heat through you, and Ten must have felt it because he smirked against your lips. “Looks like someone likes the sound of that,” he murmured, fingers tightening around your waist. He shifted beneath you, letting you feel just how much he was enjoying this. “Go on, then. Show us what you can do.”

Your breath hitched, but your body moved before your mind could catch up. You slid off Ten’s lap, hands pressing into the mattress as you bent yourself over for Haechan, heat crawling up your neck as you met Ten’s gaze. His eyes darkened as he looked down at you. When you hesitated, his hand found your chin, tilting your face up to meet his.

“Don’t be shy,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Behind you, Haechan moved closer, his hands sliding over your shoulders as he leaned down to murmur in your ear. “Better make it good,” he said, his voice low and taunting. “We’ve been waiting for this all night.”

The room felt impossibly small, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Your hands trembled slightly as you reached for Ten, fingers working at his belt. His smirk deepened, and when Haechan’s hands slid down to your waist, pulling you back against him, you realized there was no turning back now.

The soft clink of metal filled the space between you. Ten’s gaze was dark, heavy-lidded with anticipation, watching as you tugged his jeans down just enough to expose the growing bulge straining against his boxers.

“You’re eager,” Ten murmured, his voice low and teasing, watching as your fingers trembled slightly while sliding under the waistband of his boxers. “I like that.”

You swallowed hard, unsure if it was his words, the sheer intensity of the moment, or the way Haechan’s grip tightened around your hips that sent another wave of heat coursing through your body.

“Let me help you with that,” Haechan murmured from behind, his hands sliding down to the hem of your shorts. You gasped softly as he tugged them down, the cool air against your skin a stark contrast to the warmth of his hands.

“Fuck,” Haechan muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with approval as he let his fingers trail over the curve of your bare ass. “You’ve been hiding this from us?”

Ten chuckled above you, his fingers threading into your hair. "Don't distract her, Haechan. She has a job to do."

Haechan smirked, his hands lingering for a moment before shifting to his pants. “Fine. But don’t keep all the fun to yourself.”

You barely had time to process their banter before Ten’s hand guided your head closer, his cock now free and standing tall before you. The sight of it made your stomach twist in nervous excitement, and the weight of his gaze as he looked down at you made your skin tingle.

“Open up,” he said, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, his tone calm but commanding.

You parted your lips hesitantly, and he groaned softly as you took him into your mouth, your tongue running along his length as you adjusted to the feeling of him filling you. He was thick, and the stretch was enough to make your jaw ache slightly, but the low, breathy curses he let out encouraged you to keep going.

“Good,” he murmured, his fingers tightening in your hair as he guided you into a steady rhythm. “Just like that.”

Behind you, Haechan’s hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you back until you were bent over in front of him, your knees spread wide. He slid his fingers along your inner thigh, teasingly close but never quite where you needed them most.

“You’re dripping,” he said, his tone dripping with smugness as he slid a finger through your slick folds. You whined softly around Ten’s cock, the vibrations making him groan and tighten his grip on your hair.

“Don’t tease,” Ten muttered, his voice rough with arousal. “You’ll break her before we even get started.”

Haechan laughed softly, but his teasing didn’t last much longer. He started to finger at your cunt at a rough and delibrate pace. You felt yourself squeezed around him and he took notice of that.

"Mhm, you like this, don’t you, baby? Who would’ve thought you could be such a little slut?"

Your core clenched around his fingers at his degrading words.

“Woah, you’re so needy—it reminds me of last time.”

You froze. Just for a second.

Ten was struggling to keep his composure, drowning in the way you were sucking the life out of him, trying to tune out Haechan’s blabbering. But his ears perked up at those words. Last time?

“Wait… what do you mean by that?” Ten’s voice was sharp now, cutting through the heat in the room.

“Oh? She really didn’t tell you?” Haechan chuckled, his tone dripping with amusement. “Well, that day I came over early to work on our project together… let’s just say she was making a fucking mess in my lap, with my fingers shoved so deep inside her. She was close—so fucking close—until you showed up and cockblocked us.”

Ten stiffened. His grip on you tightened.

He thought he was the only one. Turns out, you’d been spreading your legs for Haechan too.

His voice dropped, laced with something darker. “Is that true, baby?”

You couldn’t answer. Shame burned through you. It wasn’t like you meant to lead them on… you just wanted them both.

Your silence pissed him off. His fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Answer me.”

For the first time, you felt intimidated by him. A little afraid.

But also… excited.

A part of you liked seeing him like this—possessive.

“Y-yes… it’s true…”

Ten didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. His silence spoke volumes as he suddenly shoved you all the way down to the base of his cock. Your eyes widened, tears welling up as you instinctively gripped the sheets, your throat tightening around him.

“So, I’m guessing, love, you haven’t told Haechan about what we did not too long ago either?”

Haechan’s eyes flicked toward Ten, curiosity piqued. His fingers never slowed as they worked inside you, meticulous, teasing, pushing deeper as he turned his attention toward him.

“Wait… don’t tell me something happened between you two, too.”

Ten smirked. Arrogant. Smug. One hand braced on the mattress as he leaned back slightly, the other still tangled in your hair, keeping you in place as he pushed you even deeper on his cock.

“Oh, we did something, alright. Unlike you, I actually made her cum—right on my thigh, at that.”

Haechan’s brows lifted in surprise. He hadn’t realized just how desperate you were. How needy. He gave your ass a light smack, making you jolt, a muffled moan vibrating around Ten’s cock, causing him to moan and throw his head back.

“No way… wow. And here I thought we were the slutty ones.” Haechan chuckled, shaking his head. “But you? You really just like getting passed around by the both us, huh?”

His words alone made your whole body tighten, pleasure pooling low in your stomach. You squirmed, barely able to control yourself. And he noticed.

“Oh? Are you close, sweetie?”

You couldn’t answer. Not properly. But you tried to mouth a desperate "yes" around Ten’s cock, the vibrations of your voice making his hips twitch, sending him closer to the edge. Haechan didn’t waste a second, fingers moving faster, deeper, maliciously curling until you shattered around them, a slick mess pooling beneath you.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he groaned, his fingers slowing as he pulled them out, coated in your release. “I can’t believe you came so quick… but I’m not done with you yet.”

Your breath hitched as you heard the unmistakable sound of his zipper lowering. Then the rustle of fabric.

A moment later, you felt it—the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance. Your body trembled as he pushed forward, the stretch immediate, overwhelming, sending a gasp tearing from your throat.

“Shit,” Haechan hissed, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulled you back onto him, sinking inch by inch. “So fucking tight.”

The fullness of him made your thighs shake, made your fingers curl into the sheets. He didn’t give you long to adjust. Not even a second. He pulled out almost entirely before slamming back in, the force knocking the breath from your lungs, making you jolt around Ten’s cock.

“Careful,” Ten warned, though his voice was strained, his fingers flexing in your hair. “She can’t exactly focus on me if you’re going to fuck them like that.”

Haechan only smirked, setting a punishing rhythm, hips snapping against your ass with enough force to make the room echo with the sound of skin meeting skin.

“Maybe I don’t want her to focus,” he shot back, his voice laced with amusement. “I want her to have no thoughts in that pretty head of hers.”

Your moans were muffled, choked by the cock filling your mouth, and the sensation sent Ten spiraling, his hips rocking up to meet you, his grip on your hair unrelenting. His other hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing over your skin as he guided you, helping you take him deeper.

“You’re so good at this,” he murmured, his voice softer now, but still laced with heat. “So eager to please… I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Behind you, Haechan let out a low chuckle, his hands sliding up your waist before gripping you harder. “Guess we bring the slutty side out of them.”

His words were punctuated by a particularly hard thrust that made you cry out around Ten’s cock, your whole body quivering. The overwhelming sensation of being completely filled by both of them made your head spin.

“Shit,” Ten groaned, his fingers tightening. “I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.”

Ten’s hips stilled. His grip on your hair tightened as he let out a low, guttural moan, his release spilling into your throat. You swallowed on instinct, the warmth flooding your senses as his hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you still for just a moment before he slowly eased you off him.

“Good.” His thumb brushed over your swollen lips, his gaze dark, approving. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?”

Before you could catch your breath and process what just happened, Haechan’s hands slid up your back, pressing you down slightly as his thrusts grew rougher. More desperate. Bruising.

And he wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

“Don’t think I’m letting you off easy,” Ten muttered, his voice taut with restraint as he chased his own release.

Your body trembled, every nerve lit up, tension coiling tighter and tighter. You were long past resistance—willing, desperate, ready to let them take whatever they wanted.

Ten wanted more. Wanted control.

He moved to take Haechan’s place, pushing him aside effortlessly.

His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you further apart, forcing you open beneath him. Your legs shook as he adjusted you at the very edge of the bed, your head hanging back over the side, hair spilling to the floor. The sudden inversion sent blood rushing to your face, making your vision swim, but the only thing you could focus on was Ten looming over you, his dark, hungry gaze drinking you in like he’d waited his whole life for this.

Behind him, Haechan leaned back lazily in your desk chair, arms crossed, amusement curling at the corners of his lips. He wasn’t going anywhere—he wanted to sit back and watch, wanted to see exactly how much of a mess you became beneath Ten. His cock, still slick from your arousal, lay heavy in his hand as he stroked himself leisurely, the sight sending another wave of heat flooding through you.

“Look at you,” Ten murmured, voice smooth, taunting, as he slid his hands up your thighs, thumbs pressing into your soft flesh. “All laid out for us, completely at our mercy. Is this what you wanted all along?”

You turned your face, the heat of shame burning at your chest, but Ten wasn’t having it. His fingers caught your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Don’t get shy now,” he smirked, eyes glinting with something wicked. “You’ve been begging for this for weeks, haven’t you? Strutting around in those little crop tops, teasing us while we worked on that stupid project. Did you think we wouldn’t notice?”

“You didn’t make it easy for us,” Haechan chimed in, voice dripping with mockery. “Bending over in front of us, dropping pens like it was an accident. You wanted us to look. You wanted us to see what we could do to you.”

“That’s not—”

Your protest was cut off with a sharp thrust, Ten pushing inside, stretching you open inch by inch. A startled gasp tore from your throat as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, filling you completely.

“Don’t lie,” he growled, his voice dropping lower as he gripped your waist, holding you still as your body clenched around him. “Your body doesn’t lie. You’re soaking wet—dripping all over me like you’ve been dying for this.”

The position made every thrust hit impossibly deep, your body arching off the bed as he moved, slow and deliberate at first, dragging pleasure through you with every stroke.

“Fuck,” Haechan muttered from his chair, his hand moving over himself as he watched, eyes heavy-lidded with lust. “You’re really taking him, huh? Bet you’ve been fantasizing about this every time you pretended to hate us.”

“Remember that day you yelled at us for being too loud?” Ten taunted, his pace quickening, each thrust sending a shockwave through you. He leaned in close, lips brushing your ear, voice dark and sinful. “Bet the only reason you wanted us to keep coming over was because you were hoping we’d fuck you right then and there. Probably got yourself off to the thought of it, didn’t you?”

Your pride flared, warring with the undeniable truth. You shook your head weakly, but your body betrayed you, hips tilting up, chasing more.

Haechan clicked his tongue, unimpressed. He pushed himself out of the chair, stepping forward, leaning down until his face hovered inches from yours. His hand wrapped around his cock, lazily stroking himself as he spoke.

“Answer him,” he ordered, voice sharp. “Tell the truth, or we’ll stop right now.”

The thought of them stopping—leaving you like this, empty, aching—was unbearable.

“I…” Your breath hitched, voice barely a whisper. “You’re right. About everything…”

Haechan laughed, low and dark, standing straight again as he resumed stroking himself. “Knew it. You’ve been obsessed with us this whole time.”

Ten groaned at your admission, fingers tightening around your thighs as he thrust into you harder, his control slipping. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered, voice ragged. “Can’t believe we wasted all that time working on that stupid project when we could’ve been doing this.”

You whimpered, fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you as he fucked you faster, the sound of his hips slamming into yours filling the room. Each thrust pushed you closer, every nerve in your body strung so tight you thought you might snap.

“You’re such a mess,” Haechan mused, eyes locked on where Ten disappeared inside you over and over. “Moaning like a desperate little whore, like this is all you’ve ever wanted.”

Ten smirked, leaning down again, lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Maybe if you’d just been honest from the start, we could’ve given you this sooner.” His teeth grazed your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “You didn’t have to play so hard to get.”

The words sent you over the edge. Your body tensed, pleasure ripping through you in an overwhelming wave, a choked cry spilling from your lips as you clenched down hard around him.

Ten cursed under his breath, movements stuttering as your orgasm dragged him closer to his own. And he wasn’t far behind.

"Fuck," he muttered, voice tight as he pounded into you harder, fingers digging into your thighs, sure to leave bruises. "You’re gonna make me—"

Before he could finish, his hips slammed flush against yours, a guttural moan ripping from his throat as warmth flooded deep inside you. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine as he collapsed onto you, breath ragged.

"Don’t think you’re done yet," Haechan’s voice cut through the haze, dark and amused. He stepped closer, cock still hard, still ready. "It’s my turn now."

Ten’s pace never faltered, each thrust deep and ruthless, fucking you through your orgasm like he had no intention of stopping. Your head hung off the edge of the bed, back arched as he drove into you with a force that left your whole body trembling. His grip on your thighs was bruising, possessive, dragging you onto his cock with every sharp snap of his hips.

"Look at you," Ten growled, eyes raking over you, voice rough with hunger. "Taking it so well. Like you were made for this."

A low chuckle came from the side—Haechan, stepping in closer, dark amusement curling at the edge of his voice. "You’re hogging all the fun, Ten. Move over. I’ve got a better idea."

Ten smirked but didn’t stop. "Go ahead. They’ve got a mouth too, don’t they?"

Your chest heaved as Haechan came to stand by the bed, stroking himself lazily, already hard again. His grin was sharp, wicked.

"Open up," he ordered, tone laced with amusement. "You’ve been so good for us so far. Let’s see how much more you can take."

Your body was already shaking from Ten’s relentless thrusts, but the demand in Haechan’s voice sent another shiver through you. Lips parted, breath ragged, you let him grip your face, guiding himself between your lips.

"That’s it," he murmured, mockingly sweet, fingers tightening against your jaw. "Such a good girl, aren’t you? Always eager to please."

The moment he pushed past your lips, Haechan groaned—low, filthy—as he slid deeper, his grip keeping you in place. The angle forced your throat to stretch around him, and at first, he moved slow, savoring it, before picking up speed, using your mouth like it was his to claim.

"Fuck, you feel good," he muttered, voice strained as his fingers curled around your neck, using it like a handle. He thrust deeper, his other hand tangling in your hair. "Always running that mouth, acting like you’re too good for us. Look at you now, getting fucked from both ends."

Ten groaned above you, pace growing erratic as he slammed into you, every drag of his cock against your walls leaving you shuddering, overstimulated and wrecked. "Your such a fucking mess," he muttered through gritted teeth, grip tightening on your thighs. "Can’t get enough, can you? So desperate to be filled up."

Your muffled moans vibrated around Haechan’s cock, making him hiss through his teeth. His hips snapped forward, pushing even deeper, your throat tightening around him as tears welled in your eyes. His fingers dug into your jaw, holding you there.

"Look at you," Haechan purred, voice dripping mockery. "Drooling all over yourself, tears running down your face. You’re such a fucking slut... but you love it, don’t you?"

You could barely think, body trembling, pleasure unraveling into something raw as Ten’s rhythm turned frantic. His grip was almost punishing as he chased his release.

But this time, he didn’t finish inside you. He pulled out, breath heavy, stepping back to stand beside Haechan. His hand wrapped around himself, stroking slow, watching you with a dark, satisfied smirk.

"I’m not done yet," Ten murmured, voice low, commanding. "We’re going to make sure you’re completely covered by the time we’re finished with you."

Haechan chuckled, thrusts turning erratic, both hands now gripping your hair as he fucked your throat deep. "You hear that?" His tone was a promise, sharp and teasing. "You’re not just taking us—you’re going to wear us."

The words sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your moans muffled as Haechan’s cock twitched deep in your throat. With a rough groan, he pulled out, moved to where Ten had been, and thrust his length into your dripping cunt. The wet slap of skin against skin filled the room as he fucked Ten’s release deeper into you, the filthy sensation making your body tremble.

Soon, it would be his turn to fill you up.

Behind you, Ten stroked himself furiously, his breathing ragged, his eyes fixed on your face.

“Stick out your tongue,” he ordered, voice thick with arousal.

You obeyed, tongue darting out just as Ten groaned and shoved his cock deep into your throat again. His taste coated your tongue, the lingering traces of his release making you shudder as he pulsed against the tight warmth of your mouth.

Haechan grunted, gripping the back of your thighs and pushing your legs up, nearly folding you in half as he picked up the pace. His cock drove into you mercilessly, each thrust hitting that spot inside you that had your body convulsing beneath him.

Once again, you were being fucked from both ends, completely at their mercy.

You never could have imagined this happening—all of it, just because of some stupid project. But now? You couldn’t be more satisfied with the outcome. The way Haechan’s cock bullied that sensitive spot inside you, the way Ten’s length filled your throat, stretching it with every ruthless thrust—it was overwhelming in the best way.

A loud, muffled scream tore from your throat, but it was swallowed by Ten’s cock as he fucked into your mouth with a brutal pace. The sounds in the room were obscene, bouncing off the walls—your muffled cries, the wet slap of Haechan’s hips against you, the rhythmic creaking of the bedframe as it slammed against the wall. Your tears only turned them on more, and you felt them harden inside you.

You clenched hard around Haechan, your walls gripping him tight as the intensity built inside you, your orgasm just out of reach. He felt it, groaning as he dug his fingers into your thighs.

“Oh, you’re close, aren’t you?” His voice was strained, breathless. “F-fuck… I think I am too. Ten, how’re you holding up over there?”

“Shit, I’m right there,” Ten panted, his grip tightening in your hair as he fucked your throat harder.

That was all it took for them to lose control.

Ten came first, spilling across your tongue, the warmth of it coating your lips and dripping down your chin. His breath hitched as he pulled back, watching the mess he’d made of you, satisfaction clear in his dark eyes.

Haechan wasn’t far behind. He cursed low under his breath, thrusting deep one final time as he came, filling you to the brim before pulling out, the last spurts of his release spilling across your stomach and chest, hot and sticky against your skin.

“Fuck,” Ten grunted, stepping back to admire his work. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths as he smirked. “You look perfect like this. Completely ruined.”

Haechan chuckled, trailing his fingers through the mess on your face before gripping your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “And to think you wanted to get rid of us,” he mused, voice dripping amusement. “Now look at you. Completely fucked out by us.”

The room was thick with heat, the scent of sweat and sex lingering in the air. Your breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps, your body trembling from the sheer intensity of it all.

Haechan smirked, brushing his fingers lazily down your thigh, a silent reminder of the claim he’d left on you. There was still hunger in his eyes, but beneath the cocky exterior, something softer flickered there. “You really outdid yourself,” he murmured, voice low and teasing. “Didn’t think you’d last this long. Guess we underestimated you.”

He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, leaning against the desk with that same smug grin. “What did I tell you? All those little outfits, all that attitude—you were just waiting for this to happen. Should’ve made a move sooner.”

You were too exhausted to reply, your body still thrumming from the aftershocks. You lay there, head hanging off the edge of the bed, limbs boneless, chest heaving as you tried to process everything. Their gazes were heavy on you, but for once, you didn’t feel embarrassed.

Instead, a small, tired smile tugged at your lips. “You two are… so annoying,” you muttered weakly.

Ten and Haechan both laughed.

“Annoying?” Haechan echoed, crouching beside you. His fingers gripped your chin again, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You weren’t saying that a few minutes ago, sweetheart”

Ten leaned in, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his smirk softening just a little. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, voice smooth.“We’ll give you time to recover… but don’t think this will be the last time you will see us.”

The weight of his words sent a fresh jolt of heat through you, despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs. Haechan caught it, the way your eyes widened slightly, and let out a low chuckle.

“For now,” Ten continued, fingers trailing down your arm, “we should clean you up. Can’t have you looking like this all night, can we?”

Haechan stretched, grabbing a towel from the desk before tossing it to Ten. His grin never faded. “And after that? Maybe we’ll play another game,” he mused, teasing. “Who knows? You might be able to go another round.”

You groaned, throwing an arm over your face as you let your head sink back against the mattress. “You two are crazy,” you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words.

Ten laughed, wiping you down with surprisingly gentle hands. “You love that though,” he murmured, certain.

And as you lay there, your body exhausted but your heart pounding with the lingering adrenaline, you realized you couldn’t argue with him…

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