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too-deviant · 9 months ago

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strategic manoeuvre.

— WITH…ART DONALDSON!

contains...babysitter!reader, age gap, 18+ MDNI, art cheats w reader but it is lowkey implied that tashi planned the whole thing, car sex, semi-public sex, head (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, inspired by this post from @traumatrios

You had never been interested in tennis before Art.

You weren’t interested in sports at all, really — you just wanted to buckle down and focus on your college work, earn some money with an easy part-time job. You didn’t have time to follow sports, or anything else.

But then you got a call. You had been in the middle of a lecture when your phone buzzed against your notebook, a California number shining up at you and enticing you to pick up. Normally you would’ve let it go to voicemail, but you had recently gone around some of the fancier hotels in your city with flyers, asking for babysitting jobs and posting your number, so you excused yourself with a wave and took the call in the hallway.

You didn’t know who Tashi Donaldson was when she introduced herself, but the hotel she’d asked you to come to later that night was fancy enough that you didn’t question it. You had done an extensive google search afterwards, of course, but simply raised an impressed brow at her repertoire.

Then you met Art, her tennis player husband and the father of the lovely little girl you would be taking care of, and suddenly you were pretty interested in tennis.

It started when Lily had a bad nightmare and you couldn’t get her down — well, it started when you met the guy, palm sweaty in his own as he introduced himself, but it didn’t really start until you had to put one of his old games on the TV for the girl to watch until she fell asleep at your side, tear tracks from her bad dream dry on her cheeks.

You had been planning on carrying her back to her bed when she was down for the count, but you had been so fixated on Art’s movements; his determined look, his arms, his legs, that you ended up dropping out too. You woke up a few hours later with a blanket over your body and Art standing quietly at the kitchen island behind the sofa.

“You looked peaceful. Didn't wanna wake you.” He’d said, sipping at his tea, and you knew you were done for.

Now all of a sudden you had time to watch a tennis match in the morning, play one as background noise while you studied. You had started following his tennis journey right from the Junior Open in 2006 — you didn’t think you'd ever actually see him again, but you could fantasise about it whenever you remembered the smell of his cologne as he thanked you for taking care of Lily, promising a big tip would go straight into your account in the morning.

(The money went in fifteen minutes after you’d left).

It came as a pleasant surprise when Tashi’s number popped up on your screen once more, a few months later. You had been in your kitchen, and took the call the moment you recognised the digits.

“We’re a little ways out of town.” She’d said, “But Lily raved about you for days after last time, and we know you better than a stranger. If you can’t make it out here, don’t worry, but we still wanted to try our luck.”

We she’d said. As in her and Art.

You cursed yourself for lusting after a married man in the uber to the hotel.

From then on out, you became their primary babysitter. Since they travelled a lot, and Tashi’s mom was with them most of the time, you only really sat for them once every couple of months. The town you lived in was sunny and had a huge private sports centre for professional athletes — a fact you weren’t aware of until Art told you over a cup of tea — so they always came back. You were glad you could count on them coming back — it was like magic, the way your phone lit up with Tashi’s now saved contact whenever the late night bingeing of matches and interviews stopped fueling your infatuation.

The guilt was almost enough to make you ignore it, say you were busy or just get a new number all together. But you never did. As much as you knew it was wrong, you always dropped what you were doing and drove to that cushy hotel where the receptionist knew your face and let you in with a smile. You travelled that same memorised route to the master suite, knocked on the door and made sure you were standing far enough away from the peep hole that you didn’t look weird and distorted when Art would look through before letting you in.

It was always Art now. Tashi had greeted you a few times but lately it had always been him — a sick part of you thought she might’ve known about your crush on him, played with it for fun because she couldn’t play tennis anymore. But that was crazy, and you really needed to sort yourself out.

You would greet him with a smile, push through the small talk, lean up against the kitchen island and watch his shirt stretch around the planes of his back as he made you coffee (On those unlucky days he would be wearing a shirt. Sometimes he would be just done with warm ups and physio and would answer the door half naked and covered in sweat. Those were the good days). Then Lily would come running at you from her room, hug you around your waist and pull you in to play; Art would laugh and grin at you, sliding the coffee cup in your direction and holding your eyes before heading to his room to get ready.

You would be knee deep in headless barbies and chewed up polly pocket clothes when he and would return, dressed up and ready to go. He would lean down, kiss Lily on the forehead, and press his hand to your back in a silent goodbye. Then he would leave, and you would spend the whole day trying to pull yourself together.

He was married. He was ten years older than you. He had a child, and was paying you to look after her.

But he always made you coffee when you arrived — just how you liked it because he remembered. He always checked in on you, asked you how your life was while you nursed the mug that was warm from the beverage and his hands. He would tell Lily to behave for you because We like her, and we don’t want to scare her off. He would let his land linger on your back half a second longer every single time he left.

But.

But Tashi was the one who would call you. She was the one who made you coffee the first time, told you it was the least they could do for you. She would walk out of her room with Art, smile at you and tell you how beautiful you look in that shirt. She would grin at you before leaving, waiting patiently by the door for her husband to take his hand off your back.

You were evil. Truly. The guy was married.

But as evil as you were, you always made sure there was an old game of his playing on the TV when they would return — because then Art would prompt you to stay and listen to him talk about it. And you would have an excuse to lean up against that island and watch him make tea while Tashi excused herself to bed. Hours would pass before he was checking his watch and hissing out an apology for keeping you so late, and then letting you leave.

The first couple of times he’d simply make sure you got in your uber safely. Then he started calling cars himself, the same ones that would drive him and his family to and from matches, press events. The same sort of service celebrites used, not their babysitters. You didn’t mind — it was a thrill, listening to him ask the person behind the wheel to make sure you got back safely.

(The bar was under the court at this point, but at least you were aware of that).

But tonight was different. In more ways than one.

In the beginning, all was the same. You were left sitting on the plush carpet of Lily’s room surrounded by lego pieces, a burning in your gut and guilt in your heart. You played doctor, you made dinner, ordered room service after her relentless begging, put on a movie, carried her sleeping form to bed, came back and watched Art play tennis until he returned.

You had started to run out of games to watch, ones you hadn’t already seen, so settled for an old game from 2006. He was playing against his old partner, Patrick something, and you wondered where the lesser known second half of Fire and Ice had disappeared to after that night.

Then Art came back, Tashi right behind him, and you smiled at them both over the back of the sofa. Tashi watched the game, something unfamiliar glinting in her irises, before blinking back at Art, “I’m going to bed.”

He responded a little slower, kissing her goodnight and looking back at you, “Tea? This game was one of my most memorable.”

“Even though you lost?” You teased, leaning against the marble.

He paused, looking back at you. He blinked, “Yeah.”

You drank your tea. You pretended like you weren’t full of shame for standing that inch closer to him. You let him talk until he had nothing left to talk about, and watched him check his watch. You waited for him to pick up the phone and call the car — only he paused by the phone, hand floating just before it, and retracted his steps to the kitchen, “I’m gonna drive you back, if it’s not too much trouble. Saves waking up my driver.”

“Oh.” Your fingers twitched, and you told them to stop. “Sure, of course.”

Art’s car wasn’t what you had expected. Thinking back on it, he didn’t seem like the sports car type, but his status and riches led you to assume you were about to get into one of the two seats in his Bugatti — you didn’t. The black jeep was expensive enough for someone like him, but close enough to home that you didn’t feel like an outsider climbing into the passenger seat.

The drive wasn’t all that far — twenty minutes both ways, so Art would’ve been back before Tashi fell asleep if he hadn't pulled into a parking lot five minutes out.

Your lips parted, eyes following his hands as they slid slowly off the wheel and into his thighs. His chest rose with a deep breath and his jaw constricted when he swallowed. Then he was looking at you, eyes piercing.

“Lily likes you.”

You were unsure, feet shifting beneath you, the sound encasing the silence of the space and forcing you to stop and blink, “I’m glad. I like her.”

“Tashi likes you.”

You weren’t too positive that she would like you if she could feel how you were feeling now — that all too familiar heartbeat pulsing between your legs with every one of Art’s breaths.

“I like you.” He finished, tilting his head until his temple rested softly on the headrest of his seat. His smile was almost taunting when he undid his seatbelt, “Which is your favourite?”

“What?”

“The games.” He clarified, knowing his question was too broad and that you would have to ask, “The ones you watch every time you’re over. The ones I assume you watch even when you aren’t sitting for us. My games. Which is your favourite?”

“Oh. Um —“ Slightly distracted by the way he shed his jacket, dumping it in the backseat. He’d lent all the way forward to take it off and his eyes didn’t leave yours once. “I don’t know.”

“The one you were watching tonight.” He asked then, “What’d you think of it? Honestly.”

“Honestly?” You swallowed, mortified that you were even entertaining this, “You looked a little distracted.”

He huffed a laugh, finally looking away and letting you breathe. It didn’t last long, because he was then getting out of the car and rounding the front of it.

The breeze was cool when it hit you, Art blocking most of it from where he stood in the gap. His hand was still on the handle, but you were busy unbuckling your own seatbelt — the message had been received, you had crossed a line and he was kicking you out of his car.

But when you turned, legs swinging carefully into the cold, his hand on your knee stopped you from really getting out. Your eyes snapped up to his, and you realised you had been caged — with one hand on the door and one hand on you, Art Donaldson had you right where you had been dreaming of him having you. It felt surreal.

“My opponent. In the game from tonight.” He breathed, glancing around casually like you were having one of your simple conversations over tea. “He slept with my wife.”

Out of all the things…

“What?” Your eyes darted between his, but the rest of your body otherwise remained still. Even when his hand on your knee travelled upwards.

“He’d slept with her before. In college. We weren’t together then.” He was now watching his hand move, like he wasn’t the one moving it, “But then he slept with her again, in Atlanta. After I’d already married her.”

“Wow.” You breathed, mainly because it was the easiest word you could slide out of your mouth whilst holding your breath. His fingers reached your thigh, begged to dip between them. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He was quick to respond. Your legs parted on instinct, and at this point you had surrendered to being an awful person — although maybe you’d fallen asleep on the couch and this was all a dream. You didn’t think you’d be able to face Art if it was. You couldn’t even face him now.

He took the newfound space for granted, stepping between your legs and holding them open with his body. His hand on the door followed him, taking its new place on your other leg. He rubbed up and down your thighs, but you couldn’t look away from his face.

“I don’t want you watching him play.” He spoke lowly, tracing his fingertips around your waistband, “I’ve seen enough of his games.”

“Okay.” You didn’t hesitate to let out, swallowing the hungered saliva that had built up in your mouth.

He unbuttoned your jeans, pulled the zipper down — painstakingly slow, but it allowed you time to brace your hands on the seat and the dashboard so you could raise your hips and let him slide them off you.

You were stuck in your head, but Art didn’t seem to notice since he was too busy folding your jeans and hanging them over the open car door. You dared question it through a heavy breath but he just moved on to your panties, throwing them precariously on the dashboard and exposing your glittering cunt to his bright eyes.

“We shouldn’t —“ It was a half-assed attempt at reconciling with your guilt, but the fact that you were half naked and spread eagle made it lose its meaning.

Art shushed you, kneeling down so he was looking at your pussy, “We can, and we will.” Then he glanced back at you, brow arched, “Unless you don’t want to.”

Any sense of rationale had fucked off when he put his hand on your leg, so you swallowed and said, “I want to.”

He wasted no time, licking a thick stripe from your asshole to your clit. You knocked your head back with a gasped moan, bucking into him and hissing when the gear stick poked you in the back when you led back too far.

You let out a shaky breath as he lapped you up, tongue dipping inside of you before travelling up to that sweet spot and sucking at it gently. You gasped and moaned, hands scrambling between holding yourself up and holding him down. His own were resting on your thighs — his calm and collected demeanour was a drastic contradiction from your own.

His head nodded calmly between your legs, relaxed in its position — yours, shaky and tense all at once, neck bracing whenever you fell back. His hands tapped soft melodies on your skin whereas yours tightened around whatever was in their old, whether that be the leather of the seats or the blonde of Art’s hair.

When he finally came up for air, his chin was coated in your slick, and he licked his lips clean before straightening up above you. You watched, paralysed, while he unbuckled his belt, threw it over the door with your jeans, and sent you a look under his lashes that you’d only seen him wear during his tennis matches.

You had been keeping quiet earlier, but when he bottomed out inside you and started to piston, your mind went wild. Choruses of Oh my God and Fuck!, shouts of Art’s name and whimpers under your breath — it all came tumbling out and you couldn’t even try and stop it.

Not that you wanted to; your vocality seemed to make him go faster, harder. It made him vocal, no longer calm and relaxed as he had been when eating you out, but loud and gruff. Grunts and moans you had dreamt about hearing outside of a television screen, now being huffed into the air you shared.

You came with a whine and Art followed not long after, and you settled there for a moment — legs spread in his passenger seat with him standing between them — until you could muster up the strength to push yourself up.

Five minutes later and you were both dressed, Art’s black jeep parked outside of your apartment building. You hadn’t exchanged any more words, but when you turned to slam the door once you had jumped out, you found his eyes on yours.

“I have a game this weekend. Two hours out. Tashi wanted you to come. A gift, for all you’ve done for us.”

(You went to the game. Art won. Tashi grinned like she’d made it happen and then offered to buy you a drink).

divider by @cafekitsune !!

#art donaldson #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #art challengers #art donaldson smut #babysitter!reader #challengers #challengers movie #@lia’s works #tashi duncan

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vauer · 2 months ago

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𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Reader x Jinx

SUMMARY: you are a thief who steals from people who are passing through your town. this time you came across the wrong person. that didn't stop you from fucking her though.

CW: sub!Jinx, fem!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, some kind of plot(?), fastburn

(English isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes💌)

★∻∹⋰⋰ ☆∻∹⋰⋰ ★∻∹⋰⋰ ☆∻∹⋰⋰★∻∹⋰⋰ ☆∻∹⋰⋰

Jinx moaned softly as she kissed her new friend's thin lips. The edge of the countertop rests uncomfortably against her lower back, forcing her to arch her back and make a dissatisfied mumble, only to hear a quiet chuckle in response. She couldn't believe how quickly this girl had managed to win her over.

A couple of weeks ago, a strange woman came into her small workshop. You were pretty and looked to be no more than twenty, but your piercing gaze was too intently and sharply jumping over various details of the interior, studying the situation. And you were wearing some ugly kind of wig.

“I haven't met you here before. May I know the name of such a charming lady?” your eyes sparkled playfull. Your intonation and body language put Jinx in a stupor. Since she faked her death and fled to the edge of the world, away from Piltover, changing her appearance, she has not yet received any attention from anyone. Jinx wasn't really sure if it was sarcasm, because she didn't look her best right now: crookedly cropped hair had grown back and looked even more untidy, and bright blue hair roots were starting to grow out from under the purple dye. And that's not to mention the oil and dust stains on the clothes.

“Powder," Jinx said after a couple of seconds of reflection. Lately, she's been using her old name to avoid attracting attention.

“Like baby powder or gunpowder?” you grinned annoyingly, leaning slightly on the table.

"Like gunpowder," Jinx replied grimly, rolling her eyes.

"Then you can call me Fuse," you grinned again, winking. Despite your outspoken flirtation, Jinx didn't miss the way your gaze appraisingly scanned her hideout.

"I have a business here, not a dating club," she grumbled, lazily rolling a blue hexteck ball around the table. Jinx chuckled inwardly, noticing how your gaze immediately eagerly darted to the jewel, as she suspected.

A couple of days later, she finally caught you trying to sneak into her workshop late at night.

“Are you looking for this?” Jinx appeared behind you, inserting a blue ball into the gun and pointing it at you.

“Rather for you,” not confused, you took a seductive pose, leaning on the table. “Jinx, right?”

“Well, how did you find out?” She rolled her eyes, pouting and moving closer to use the edge of the gun to push the hood off your head. Well, at least you weren't wearing an ugly burgundy wig right now. "I don't want to kill you. I'm kind of done with it.”

“Who else would have this round blue thing but Jinx? You're almost a legend. Almost,” you shrugged. You didn't seem to care much about the hextek-loaded pistol next to your temple. "You don't have to hide your identity here. No one cares who you are.”

"Except for you, of course," Jinx rolled her eyes.

“I don't care either. But I can say that you are too charming for the inadequate maniac they call you," you grinned flirtatiously again.

The shot cut off the edge of your bangs.

“Shut up!” Jinx said tiredly, going upstairs to sleep. Anyway, there was nothing to steal from her except the blue ball.She earned a couple of coins by repairing all kinds of utensils for the residents of the city, and that was all her money.

You had been coming to her several times a day for the past two weeks, but at least hadn't tried to steal anything. You just stared at Jinx while she worked, fixing something or building custom devices. After a while, you started chatting about little things, you brought her a snack when Jinx sat in the workshop for hours without leaving. She had to admit that she liked such a quiet life much more than the hustle, intrigue and dangers of Piltover.

Day after day, and at some point Jinx found herself pinned against her own desk, whimpering softly in need as your deft hands pulled off her top, tracing the contours of her tattoos with your fingers. You leaned to her neck, leaving weightless kisses on the pale, almost transparent skin.

Jinx's knees were already buckling with impatience and excitement, and a fog of lust filled her head. Squeezing the thin skin of her thighs, you lifted her up, setting her down on the table. You lips gently touched the skin between Jinx's breasts, saying one word.

— Perfect.

Jinx flinched, her eyes widening. Then a purple flash followed and she practically hung on to you, wrapping her legs around your waist and kissing you deeply, simultaneously taking off your top.

Meanwhile, you reached for her pants, pulling them off along with her underwear. Jinx leaned back, supporting her reclining position with her hands. Her stomach was trembling slightly with excitement as your lips dropped a kiss just below her waist.

Finally, you wrapped your arms around her hips, lifting her legs and pressing your lips to her wet and throbbing flesh, making Jinx moan and arch her back.

Your soft tongue explored her folds inside and out, knocking more whimpers and moans out of her and causing her muscles to contract from overexcitation.

"You're doing great for the first time," you purred, pulling back slightly to run a finger over her sensitive clit, lightly teasing her entrance before gently pushing two fingers inside. Jinx tensed slightly, but then relaxed, and feeling pleasantly full, began to move her hips towards your hand. The wet sounds only added to their excitement.

You smiled contentedly at the sight of Jinx’s eyes closed with pleasure and her bitten lower lip. When you curled your fingers upward slightly inside her, Jinx screamed at the unusual sensations, breathing heavily.

“What is it?” She mumbled plaintively as you plugged her with a wet kiss, continuing to move your fingers inside her. You showered Jinx's chin and neck with soothing kisses, feeling her inner muscles begin to contract, bringing orgasm closer.

You accelerated your movements slightly, pressing your fingers against her upper wall and applying pressure to her swollen clit. Jinx didn't have time to figure out what happened when she felt a clear liquid squirting out of her on her thighs and stomach. Blushing, she tilted her head back, allowing the orgasm to swallow her.

***

A few weeks of being alone and talking to herself had loosened Jinx's tongue. She desperately wanted to brag about how brilliantly she had convinced the whole of Piltover and her own sister of her death.

“And then I slipped out through the ventilation and hijacked the airship while they mourned the dead and me,” Jinx enthusiastically talked about her adventures, while you lazily braided her short hair into small pigtails.

“And then where did you put it?” you asked.

“And that's beside the point, as far as I remember," Jinx narrowed her eyes in displeasure. You grinned, pulling her closer to your chest.

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botanicalsword · 10 days ago

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Career ✹ Finance Support in Solar Return

The 8th house in astrology is about money that comes from other people, like financial support, gifts, or inheritances. It focuses on other people's finances, which can lead to big financial opportunities.

People with strong placements in the 8th house often find ways to build wealth using resources from others, resulting in more financial growth than what the 2nd house offers. However, while they can earn a lot, it also involves significant risks, highlighting the idea that great wealth can come with great danger.

8th house - influence on financial matters

8th house ruler in the 1st house

a strong ability to gain trust and financial support from others

If well-aspected - opportunities for unexpected wealth, particularly beneficial for those in business

If afflicted - it may lead to financial losses or health issues

8th house ruler in the 2nd house

challenges / financial instability / debt

If well-aspected - it may also point to inheritances or financial gains through partnerships

8th house ruler in the 3rd house

financial interactions with siblings, but it may also indicate potential accidents or health issues related to them

Caution is advised regarding travel and transportation

8th house ruler in the 4th house

a wealthy family background or financial gains through family connections

raise concerns about parental health or property investments

8th house ruler in the 5th house

lead to financial gains through creativity or entertainment

challenges in raising children or potential health issues for them

>> What's coming in 2025 >> Life Purpose ✧ Lost in Life? revealing the direction we've been searching for (In-depth)

8th house ruler in the 6th house

favorable for careers in finance or administration

health problems or issues with employees

8th house ruler in the 7th house

financially stable partner

an afflicted aspect - challenges in the relationship

enhances personal magnetism and financial acumen, but caution is advised against excessive external investments.

8th house ruler in the 8th house

enhances personal charm

boosts one's luck with wealth

If well-placed - strong investment acumen and good fortune

If afflicted - avoid excessive investments

8th house ruler in the 9th house

financial opportunities through travel or education

suggest potential financial losses due to in-laws or legal issues

8th house ruler in the 10th house

a strong potential for wealth - through career or entrepreneurial ventures

if well-placed - financial support from others or secure investments

if afflicted - the possibility of facing repercussions from superiors or encountering unexpected harm related to one’s profession

a risk of reputational damage - career prospects may not be particularly favorable.

if well-aspected - lead to recognition and status through endeavors related to the themes of the 8th house

8th house ruler in the 11th house

a favorable condition

connections with influential people and unexpected financial gains

if afflicted - hinder the formation of genuine friendships, leading to associations with unreliable companions

if afflicted - caution against unforeseen accidents

8th house ruler is in the 12th house

A mix of fortune and misfortune

Opportunities for success in law enforcement, healthcare, or healing fields

if afflicted, there is a warning against deception and the presence of deceitful people - challenges in a partner's financial situation

if well-aspected - potential affinity for careers related to fate, psychology, or mystical studies

>> Career ✧ What challenges will you encounter in your work? • Solar Returns / Lunar Returns >> Career • work a job or start a business? ✧ Natal Chart Observation >> Career • A Sudden Change - What Happens Next? ✧ Solar Return / Lunar Return >> Career • Indicators for your potential and talents (Part 1) >> Career • Indicators for your potential and talents (Part 2)

>> Back to Masterlist ✧ Explicit Content

Exclusive access : Patreon

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rqnarok · 4 months ago

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LINGER | 4,3k

old man!logan x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Being another mutant who survived Charles’ seizures, you are forced to live alongside Logan. The things between you and Logan goes on and off, fragile and indefinite—yet it always lingers.

TAGS AND WARNINGS: smut, mdni! mentions of blood, death, and grief (not logan), lots of angst but lots of fluff too, old man!logan x mutant!reader but unspecified mutation so it’s up to you! minor injuries, nightmares, miscommunication, kind of slow burning (?), pining, logan calls himself ‘old man’ several times, petnames, reader being called ‘kid’ by logan, unrequited love but actually requited (just angst all over…), logan howlett is bad at feelings, love confessions, virgin!reader, dirty talk, praise kink, p with little plot, fingering (f receiving), insecure!reader and insecure!logan, logan loves reader, unprotected p in v.

NOTES: not proofread! bello! ‘m not new to writing but new to writing fan fictions hehe! old man!logan is kinda my everything and this fic is kindaaaa self indulgent. listened to “linger” by the cranberries while writing this :0 feel free to send reqs and feedback to my inbox. this was mere my writing practice and my attempt to gain motivation in life. oh, sorry for the spelling and grammar mistakes, eng is not my first language! hope this isn’t my first and last fic.. see u all <3 or not....:p

'Shamed what happened back in the East.

A saying you heard but don’t know where. Even who said it. Still, you remember all of it—their cries of death, their pain, their suffering.

A haunting vivid memory in X-Mansion, where all of your friends are lying on the ground, in pain—and you could not do anything. You just watched. In pain, too. There was a thought which you think that it was the end. You were already accepting it with open arms, welcoming your exit.

Then your mutation saved you from your fate. Your survival, at the price of grief.

“You’re doing it again.”

Jolted by his comment, you dart your eyes away from the road and into your lap. “Do what?” You mutter quietly, not sure if he even hears it.

But he always does. “Never mind.” Logan sighs in the damp air. You both know it is better not to talk about what exactly happened back then. Talking is not what you two are best at either. “I asked you a question earlier, you hungry?”

“A little, yeah. Yeah.” Your gaze sways to his driving figure: how his right hand grips the steering wheel way too tightly, how his soft blue shirt is all wrinkled, how his tired eyes look with those heavy eye bags, and the grey hairs all over his untrimmed beard. He looks worn out. But so are you.

The two of you have been doing this for God knows how long. Wandering from one place to the other with Charles in the backseat. Looking for a place to settle but not really looking for it either. It’s simply a suicide travel.

He makes a turn towards a cheap-looking diner on your left.

Northern Mexico.

A place where you both decided to settle indefinitely. Alongside Charles, who lives in the abandoned smelting plant not so far away. Logan takes up a job as a limo driver in El Paso and every time you tell him you don’t want him to be so far away during the daytime, he always says: One of us has to earn the money, kid.

Kid.

To this day, after time living together, you aren’t sure of the nature of the relationship between you and Logan. Companions? Friends? Strangers?

Well, one thing you are sure of is you are not his adopted child and he does not see you in that way, either. He sees you in the same way he sees Charles, as his responsibility.

Before all this, you were aware of him: what he looked like, his mutation, his reputation. But you do not know him personally. You passed him once or twice in the hallways after your studies. That was it.

All of a sudden, he’s all you have. The only other sane mutant you are fully sure, survived Charles’ seizure. Still, you two weren’t friends before and sure aren’t friends now. In this shared house, you and Logan are strangers—forced to live together on the sole base of sentimentality.

Deep down, you know there is something more. Something vulnerable, down there. Something fragile. There are moments like where-

Your thoughts are frozen by the sudden creaking sound of the front door. The sight of Logan all bloody and bruised entered your wandering vision. The book you were reading is now abandoned as you get up from the comfortable sofa.

“W-what happened?” Rushing into him with quick movements, this is not the first time he returns all beaten up but it is still a blow to you every single time. You can’t stand the thought of losing another person in your life, even if you convince yourself that he is a mere stranger.

His white shirt has reds in many parts, and he’s bleeding all over the house, “Some fuckin’ kids tried to mess up with the limo. F-fuck.” With the blood smeared all over his hand, he managed to get into the shared bathroom, his breath coming out short.

“Wait!” You rushed to his figure with an aid kit in your trembling hands. He slouched forward, cursing himself. Gently, you wrap your arms around him before he falls and help him lean his back on the white tiles behind.

He shakily opened the buttons of his shirt and you could see everything. While you grab all you need and start cleaning his wounds, he looks at you with his half-lidded eyes. The intense gaze that always makes you want to shy away from him—you are not so sure why.

After a while, you kneel beside him and break eye contact, “Did you kill them?” you question him carefully as you tread his wounds. Not sure how he would answer tonight.

Logan grunts when you touch one of his nasty wounds, still looking at you, “No. But you should see them.”

You feel uncomfortable at his reply, retreating your hands and facing the mirror, looking down at the sink, “I don’t want to see them, Logan.” At some point, as you search around for more supplies to treat his injuries that still haven’t healed by his mutation, you break down crying. Out of your realisation, you have been holding back your worries and sobs since you saw him.

Logan, who notices this, pulls you abruptly into him and seats you on one of his thighs. “Hey, hey, why y’crying huh? Hm?”

You hate this. You hate how you suddenly cry at the sight of him, at the reminder that this is all finite. His big calloused hand starts rubbing up and down your back, gently shushing you. You hate how he knows you all too well by now.

“I told you to stop doing the job. I-I told you that this… this would happen. I’m always scared. I thought— ” You let out one big sob or whimper, you’re not so sure. Not when he’s cradling you in his arms like this. “You can’t heal like you used to, you can’t barely–”

“Hey, shh, pretty girl,” Pretty girl. You blush at that. “I’m here with you now, aren’t I? That’s all that matters.” He shushed you oh, so tenderly. Such a paradox could live inside a man like him. Logan forces himself to smile, “Aren’t I? Come on, feel me up.” Logan sits you up straight on his lap.

He always does this. Giving out, you delicately place both of your hands on the sides of his face, feeling him up. He watches you brush around his greying beard while holding your waist in place, drawing circles on your skin. “There ‘ya go. I’m here.”

When you feel calm down and tired, you rest your heavy head on his shoulders, “Maybe I should take a turn going to town–”

He cuts you off while lifting your chin, forcing you to look at him right in the eyes that you were trying so hard to dodge. Without him saying any words, you know he is saying no. Your assumption is confirmed when he shakes his head slightly, looking down at you sternly.

“It’s just me and you, Logan.” You say meekly and defeatedly.

“Exactly. That's why it’s gotta be me, baby.”

Moments later, you continue mending his cuts. And moments after that, you’re both lying together on the bed. Holding each other in slumber. Your head on his chest, his hands on your back.

Through these delicate moments, you know him. That he is not simply a stranger to you. That this means something more.

But he does not talk about those moments. Which makes you feel like your perspective is an illusion that you made by yourself, untrue. A false memory that you created in your head because you do feel something for him.

In the morning, you wake up alone. Logan is nowhere to be seen around the room. Only traces of his scent are left on the white sheets wrapping around your figure.

When you open the bedroom door, there he is. Sitting on the kitchen chair, his slouched back facing you while he sips on his black coffee which he secretly hates. He likes the coffees that you frequently make for him more. You don’t know that. He never told you.

“Logan?” you call out to him. But he didn’t budge away from reading the newspaper. As if you weren’t there at all. As if moments like last night never happened. As if it’s true that you are merely a responsibility to him. A burden, even. You hang your head low at his ignorance and retreat to your room.

Such a paradox could live inside a man like him.

Other moments happened too. One afternoon, his phone suddenly rings while he is out visiting Charles. With all the self-control you have, you try to ignore it, ignore everything that connects to him because it upsets you. But your curiosity gets ahead of your mind and you pick his phone up.

“Hello?” you place the thing on the side of your left ear. No sound, nothing, nada. Before you know it, you feel a presence behind you and Logan is looking down at you with that look again.

Snatching his phone away from you, not so gently, he mutters, “How many times do I have to tell you not to touch my stuff, huh?” The way he remarks and the way he looks at you makes you feel small and embarrassed. These are the moments where he is not going to cradle you in his arms–you know that.

Your eyes darted to the floor. The lines on the wood oak floor suddenly seemed very interesting, “I’m- Your phone wouldn’t stop ringing. So I thought–”

“You thought? What? You have the right to?” Logan cuts you off before you finish your poor excuse of explanation. “You have your own pile of shit and I have mine. Stay out of my shit. You understand?”

Sometimes there are sparks of rage inside of you that make you gain bits of confidence, “Well, we technically live in the same place, so–”

Though, Logan quickly dims off that spirit by not letting you finish, “Understand?”

You limit yourself to a nod in agreement because you don’t trust your voice. Confusion often fills up your body to the brim. These are the moments you hate. How he treats you differently at one time and another. You hate how he makes you so weak. You hate how he has you wrapped around his fingers. You hate that you don’t have the same effect on him.

“It’s not your fault, darling.” Charles reasons you one time when you visit him for weekly check-ups. “That man has issues! Even after all these years, I still could not fully understand him and his... complexities.” You force your lips to quirk up a little and pretend as if you justify that, too. But you're in so deep.

Weeks after weeks, it went on like that. You, confused. Logan, indifferent all the time. You miss his touches. Was it just a game to him?

Paralyzed, the color red clouded your vision. You see bodies lying everywhere, dead bodies. The room smells like dread. With what is left, your power manages to slow down the pain that rushes in you. Protect you from the incursion.

Here, there is no way to hide. Their cries echo through the halls. Their screams still haunt you.

If you could have saved yourself, you could have saved them too. But you watched them die.

You watched them die.

Inside the dark of your room, you did not realize that you had been thrashing and screaming in your sleep. The nightmare came to you again. Grief shows through in the form of tears, flowing into your cheeks as you open your eyes in fear, “I let them die, I let them die, I let them die–”

“Sweetheart?” a voice comes from outside your room. Near but so far away.

You kept repeating those words until a figure finally came up in front of you, Logan. He calls out your name, “Hey, no, no–” Now he is touching you all over, trying to stop you from moving rapidly and hurting yourself in the process. Sitting you in front of him and making you face him. Closing your eyes for a brief second, your chest heaving up and down, you remember again and you panic, “I-I watched them die–” your voice wavers.

“No, shh, keep those eyes open. You’re okay. I’m here.” His hands hold your face and his thumb brush off some of the hair in your wet cheeks.

“I could’ve saved them. They were dying, they were in pain–” You cry out as the scene on that day played out again. Daunting and haunting you without your consent. Always lingering around on the back of your neck. Only one person knows what it feels like.

Logan’s eyes soften while he remembers that bitter memory too, “So were you,” His voice coaks out, soothing you, “So were you. ‘s not your responsibility.”

At this, you put your arms around his neck and grip him tightly, finally comprehending what is happening. “Calm down, baby. Logan’s here. ‘M not leaving.” He hushed you back to your senses.

After minutes of him comforting you in silence, his eyes dart to your bleeding lips which you bite to stifle your sobs. With much surprise, Logan parts them and caresses them. Looking at them then back at your eyes, then at your lips again. Your foreheads are now touching and you find yourself nose-to-nose to him.

In your chest, your heart beats so loudly that you fear he may actually hear it. Then with that look that he gives you again, every logical thought and pride you were trying to build, collapses inside you, making you putty in his arms. As you always do.

But tonight, something more is happening, “Logan.” You managed to call out his name in a whisper, begging for something. He feels the same way too, “I know, baby. I know.”

Logan scans your face, searching for any signs of discomfort as he starts to kiss each one of your cheeks. He tells himself repeatedly in his mind, “No, not her. Anyone but her, you dipshit. You’ll lose her if you do this.” A belief that he has been telling himself every day.

What you don’t know about Logan, after all this time, is how he is afraid that if he touches you, if he shows you his feelings, you will be gone from this world. If he cares about you, he will lose you. He is in fear that the cruel world will take you away. As it always does to people he cared.

Bad shit happens to people I care about. And he managed to hold onto this thinking and compose himself every time.

Until now.

Your whimpers and pleads get to him–he cannot hold back anymore, he doesn’t want to hold back anymore. He peppers your face with kisses, everywhere but where you need him the most, your lips. “L-Logan…” you feel your face getting hotter every moment. “Ah, p-please–”, you greedily grind your lower body onto his thighs.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He groans while breathing all over your face, “You have no idea what I would do to you, the shit I’d do for you.” One of his hands gets under your nightgown and he succeeds in squeezing your tit. “Ah!” you squeak in surprise and quickly get embarrassed when he chuckles at the noises you make.

When your gaze meets him, the force can no longer be stopped. What you both try to bury deep down, what you two were locking away in a box, is bolting itself abruptly. The thumps of his heart match yours. There is no going back now.

While breaking a promise, he makes a new promise to himself: that he’d protect you before all the bad shit happens. He will not let any of it get to you.

After a brief staring contest and lingering doubts, he loses himself, mutters ‘Fuck this shit’ under his breath, and locks his lips on yours, melting you completely into his embrace. You gasp into his mouth and tighten your hug around him. His tongue finds yours sensually as he cradles your head to deepen the kiss. It was the first time he kissed you.

“It’s just you and me, kid.” He blurted out against your mouth and you could not conceal your smile. Whatever you both were trying to suppress, it’s now roaming free in liberation.

His mouth grins at your reaction and before he can stop himself, he confesses, “‘M sorry for how I acted these days. This old man was so fuckin’ afraid of how things would turn out.”

You were about to say it’s okay but he continues, “But he will try his best from now on. What d’ya think? Hm?” Logan looks over at you hesitantly, afraid of what you’d reply. His ‘confession’ does sound way better in his head, when he practiced beforehand. You didn’t know that, of course.

A giggle went out of your lips, “I think I’d like that.” you say breathlessly before kissing him again.

Our brain is meant to be effective. It is not designed to be right at all times. Well, sometimes we are right, but we experience the wrongs more. What we thought we knew, we don’t. What we thought we didn't know–maybe we do. Especially about another person and their feelings. Similar to what you thought Logan Howlett feels.

Following that night, things had changed between the both of you. The ‘boundaries’ separating you two are torn into pieces, in a good way. Now you are reminded by the nature of your relationship through everything. When he comes back home to you every day, when he puts his arms around you while you are cooking dinner, when he kisses the crown of your head before sleeping, when he fixes your favorite kitchen chair, and many other whens.

Including now, when he kisses you so roughly and gently at the same time, fueled by the desire he kept while he was still stubborn back. Logan hiked up your dress until he could feel your breasts, pinching one nipple. “Missed you– missed you so much today.” He says while kissing down between your chest and your stomach, “Missed this,” somewhere in between. You are not so sure.

“Tell me, did you miss me too, Little Missy?” Logan, who is kneeling before, tilts his head upwards so he can see your face. You cover your blushing face, shying away from him and his question like you are used to, “You know the answer.”

He picks you up from the kitchen with one hand and puts you down on your shared bed, “Oh, you don’t wanna say it?” You shake your head in an attempt to tease him. Lying down on your back and with parted legs, you can feel his rough beard while he kisses your inner thigh. “Aight' then, we may just see it.”

By seeing it, he means ripping your white underwear, the one you adored the most and has a pink ribbon, “Shh. I’ll buy you another one.” Logan quickly says before he can hear your protesting remarks.

“Really liked that one... ah!” The tip of his tongue probes your entrance without much warning, lapping up and down your cunt. “See, baby? You missed me so much. She’s dripping here.”

You feel embarrassed with how he is looking at you down there as if he is inspecting you. Unconsciously, you try to close your legs slightly. Logan does not like this as delivers a soft spank to one of your butt cheeks. “So shy all the time when it’s just your old man.”

Now, his rough hands are gripping each one of your thighs and keeping you in place. His tongue lapped at your pussy—from your hole to your clit, circling and sucking until you can feel his beard slicked up by your juices. Whimpering, your hands desperately pull at his hair, pulling him closer and closer as if he isn’t already eating you up.

He chuckles darkly when you whine pathetically at the movement of his one thick finger entering your wet hole. “Such a pretty pussy, baby.” He huffed and looked up at you with pure animalistic need as his fingers worked your walls, hitting that gummy spot that had you crying.

“Please! P-please—Logan. Want you inside,” This plead makes Logan stop his actions and glance up at you, questioningly. You weren’t sure about a lot of things, but you are sure about this. “‘M ready, pleaseplease…”

Logan has been denying you his cock for who knows how long. All this time, he gets you off by his mouth, thighs, fingers, anything except his cock. He always has an excuse, “You’re not ready for me, baby.” Or “This ain’t about me, kid.” Or “My old bones are too tired today. Next time, yeah?” Each one of them frustrates you.

Your virginity is making him hold himself back. You know this, he knows this. Deep down, he still thinks he is a filthy man who does not fully deserve you and that he is ruining you. He thinks by not penetrating you by his cock, he gains some sense of decency but he really is just unsure. Not about you, no, never. About himself.

But when you look at him with those big eyes while sprawling yourself bare to him, how could he deny you? “Are you sure? Fuck. Can’t hold myself back anymore.” Logan takes off his crumpled white shirt, undoes his belt, and tosses them away, making a clinking sound that echoes through the room. His eyes grew dark with raw desire as he brought down his pants and fists his large cock in his hand. All while looking at you.

“Yes! Please, please, give it to me. ‘Can take it!” You snapped with excitement and lean up, pressed a kiss to a part of his greying beard—the older man grins at your eagerness. “You’re going to be the death of me, pretty girl.” Logan lifts both of your legs and puts his mouth on your mound once more, making sure that you’re ready and you haven’t changed your mind.

Between his hunger licks on your pussy and the probes of his thick fingers, he mutters, “I fuckin’ love you.” And that statement itself makes you cry out his name and come all over his fingers and tongue, “L-Logan!”

“Atta girl.” You arch your back in a euphoric state of your orgasm. He could smell you. Every part of you. “So beautiful. Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

He helps you remove every fabric you had on, your pretty white sundress, your bra, your socks—everything that is separating you and him. Now you and he are completely bare, “All this for your old man, huh?” He mumbles the rhetorical question into the chilly air, his hands ghosting over your perked nipples and pinching them softly, then kisses each one of them. He goes down on you again and kisses your clit one more time.

The sight of him makes your breath caught in your throat. You swallow your spit at the look of greying bread glistening with your cum, at the sight of his thick cock springing against his stomach. “Is my baby ready for me?” You nod your head eagerly at him, assuring him that this is what you want.

With one hand on his cock, he lowers himself between your bodies, “Use your big girl words, darlin’” He nudges at your already wet entrance, waiting for your response, taking his time with you.

“‘M ready..! I want this, want you.” You pamper kisses all over his face the same way when he comforts you during your nightmare. His forehead meets yours and he kisses your lips gently as a form of understanding your needs. “Hold on t’me, my sweet girl.”

Then his tip slips inside and you gasp into his mouth, “Good girl. My good girl. You can take it.” You tighten your grip around him as he pushes himself deep inside you, “D-Doing so good, baby. Just a little more,” down to the hilt—his cock bottoms out, “There ya’ go, princess.” Logan coos at your trembling state.

He swallows your moans with a hungry kiss, his tongue exploring the insides of your mouth. “Feel so fuckin’ good. I fuckin’ love you.” There he says it again while he pulls himself all the way out to just the tip, then all the way back in—making you throw your head upwards.

Logan growls and kisses your bare neck, leaving some marks on it but you don’t care, in fact, you want him to. “I love you too, Logan.” You utter those words to him as he rams into you, his thrusts going faster and faster as he loses himself watching you. The friction of his cock against the velvet walls of your cunt is addictive, the pleasure makes the older man grunts.

He thrusts harder, his hips slamming into home, the sound of flesh hitting flesh fills the room, alongside your little ah ah ah's .

"Cum for me, baby. Come for your old man." With one final, powerful thrust, he releases inside your tight heat, his warm seed filling you as he curses and lets his head fall onto your embrace.

"Ah!" You shudder as you clench tight around him and milk his cock. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your body giving out of control as you experience another release of the night.

Logan lifts his head to scan over the scene before him. He had never seen anything like it and he had seen a lot of shit. Your figure is all fucked out and filled. He didn’t think anything could be more beautiful than what he has right now. And he says it again before bringing his lips into yours, “It’s just you and me.”

You tiredly return his kiss and look at him with a soft smile, “It’s just you and me.”

His meaningless and plain life becomes something again because of you. You are the anchor of his life and his reason not only to stay but to fight and protect.

Logan knows there are things that can be stopped, but then there is love.

He is in so deep too. This time, the both of you willingly let it linger. It’s just you and him.

876 notes · View notes

player042 · 4 days ago

Text

HER SUN, HIS MOON | kang dae-ho.

pairing: kang dae-ho (player 388) x reader

summary: opposites attract, they say, but absolutely no one could prepare you for the impact dae-ho would have in your life. requested here.

warning: pre squid game au, grumpy x sunshine dynamics, reader has personality similar to sae-byeok's, kinda colleagues to friends to lovers, heart-melting dae-ho being utterly smitten and protective, mention of fighting and blood, prepare for banter and love that feels like the perfect balance, and please enjoy ♥️

word count: 3.7k

Dae-ho and you were written in the stars. Not in words, but through a bond that neither time nor reason could break. As if the universe itself had signed a soul contract on your behalf, interlinking the two of you forever, one bright as the sun, the other dark as the night. Because you could think of no other explanation for how you and Dae-ho had found your way to each other.

For he and you were opposites in every conceivable way. He was golden hours spent laughing, and you were the quiet serenity of midnight. He was the light on a summer day, you were the shadow on a winter night. He was a golden retriever, bounding through life with enthusiasm and a need to love and be loved, while you were the black cat, aloof and deliberate, your affection hard-earned and fiercely given. He was the proverbial sunshine boyfriend, and you? The grumpy girlfriend, even if you'd never admit it aloud.

You still remembered the early days before you were together. Back then, you had avoided entanglements, thinking emotions were too unpredictable, too messy. Dae-ho, on the other hand, had been nothing but heart, an open book that practically had shouted his feelings with every glance, every action. Easygoing. Flirty. Compassionate. Gentle. Funny. Supportive. That's how he'd always been. You had worked at the same bookstore café as part-timers, making money on the side while studying at uni, and he had been the kind of coworker who brought in homemade snacks to share, who remembered the regulars' orders, who lit up every corner of the room just by being there

And you? You had preferred the quiet. You'd worked the closing shift to avoid the chaos, stocked the shelves in peace, and only spoke when absolutely necessary. Yet somehow, Dae-ho had decided you were his favorite person in the room.

Work had been slow that day, the kind of lazy afternoon where time seemed to drag. You had been in the back, sorting through new stock, when Dae-ho had appeared like a whirlwind of energy. As usual, he had brought his sunshine into the room, whistling a tune as he had sauntered over to where you had been crouched on the floor.

"Need a hand?" he asked, grinning as he leaned casually against the shelf. His eyes sparkled with that familiar mischievous glint that always made you wary.

"No," you said simply, focusing on the stack of books in front of you. "I'm fine."

"That's debatable," he replied, crouching down next to you. "You've been glaring at those books like they owe you money. Which, knowing you, isn't completely impossible."

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling, refusing to give him the satisfaction. "They're disorganized. It's irritating."

"I think you mean it's irresistible," he corrected, emphasizing the word as he tilted his head to get a better look at your face. "Because you're clearly putting all your energy into ignoring the most charming guy in the room."

You'd turned to him then, giving him a flat look. "Charming? You?"

His hand went to his chest, mock offense lighting up his features. "Ouch. That hurts. Right here." He tapped his heart, then flashed you an exaggerated pout. "You wound me."

"Good," you shot back, turning back to the books. "Maybe it'll teach you some humility."

He let out a soft laugh, his voice dipping lower. "Nah, I think I'll keep my ego intact, thanks. It's my best feature. Or… is it my smile? You've been staring at it a lot lately, so maybe I should ask you."

Your fingers froze on the book in your hand, and you felt heat creep up your neck. Damn him. He always knew exactly how to get under your skin, and worse, he lived for it.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said smoothly, though your face betrayed you with the faintest hint of pink in your cheeks.

"Oh, come on," he teased, leaning in closer. "Don't play coy with me. I see the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention."

You turned to glare at him, which only made him grin wider. "You're imagining things."

"Am I?" His voice was soft now, his gaze steady as he inched just a bit closer. "Because I'd bet my entire paycheck that you're thinking about how good I'd look kissing you right now."

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat at his boldness. But you weren't going to give him the satisfaction. "That's a terrible bet," you deadpanned with your best pokerface, setting the book aside. "You don't even make that much."

His laughter echoed in the small space, rich and full of delight. "See? That's exactly why you're my favorite."

"You're annoying," you retorted, standing up and dusting off your jeans.

"And yet, you keep me around." He stood as well, towering over you slightly. His boyish grin softened into something more genuine, his eyes lingering on yours. "Admit it, you'd miss me if I wasn't here."

You had rolled your eyes, "You wish."

"I do," he remarked, "And you love it," he winked at you before strolling off, whistling that same tune as before.

And damn it, you did love it.

No one understood it back then. This thing you two had. They still didn't understand. How could someone so effervescent, so outwardly bright, have chosen someone so reserved, so calculated? How could two people so different orbit each other with such ease? But honestly, they didn't need to understand. It was him and you that counted. Two sides of the same coin, perfectly balanced in your differences, inseparable in ways that defied explanation.

And so, it began, this undefined connection between you. Gradually, you found yourselves spending more and more time together. Dinners after work became a casual routine, and weekends often led to shared nights out at bars.

On one particular Saturday night, the bar you went to was packed; the air buzzing with laughter, clinking glasses, and the low hum of a jukebox in the corner. It was one of those rare nights where you let yourself relax, even though relaxing wasn't exactly your forte. Of course, it helped that Dae-ho was there, his larger-than-life presence somehow managing to make you forget how crowded and loud the place was.

You were sitting at the bar, nursing a drink, while Dae-ho leaned against the counter beside you, a mischievous grin perpetually plastered on his face. He was in rare form all evening, tossing out jokes and one-liners, testing just how far he could push your usual stoic demeanor.

"Come on," he teased, nudging your arm gently. "I know, you're having fun. You're smiling. At least on the inside."

You shot him a sidelong glance, unimpressed. "I don't smile."

"Not true," he countered, wagging a finger at you. "You smiled that one time when I tripped on the stairs."

"That wasn't a smile," you clarified with absolutely no emotion in your face, "That was schadenfreude."

"Call it whatever you want," he replied with a wink. "It still counts."

Your lips twitched slightly at that, betraying a flicker of amusement you tried to hide. Of course, Dae-ho noticed instantly, pointing at you triumphantly.

"Aww, I'm growing on you."

"Like mold," you muttered, taking another sip of your drink to mask your expression.

Undeterred, he leaned closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial tone. "You know, I've been told I have a certain… effect on people. Charm, charisma, devastating good looks, take your pick."

"Is that what your sisters told you?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

His grin widened. "Ah, there's the sharp tongue I love. Keep it coming, baby."

"Stop calling me that," you grumbled, even as your stomach flipped at the nickname.

As the evening went on, the two of you fell into a rhythm of teasing and banter, your words volleying back and forth like it was second nature. The bustling crowd and occasional jostle of bodies around you became background noise as your attention fixated on each other. What you did notice, however, was how close he's got. His shoulder brushed yours, his warm breath tickling your ear as he spoke in that low, teasing tone.

"So," he said casually, his eyes gleaming with mischief, "how long are you going to keep pretending you don't like me?"

You snorted, leaning back slightly in an attempt to create some distance, not that it helped. "What makes you think I like you?"

"Your complete inability to look me in the eye when I do this," he explained, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture had been so smooth, so effortlessly intimate, it left you momentarily speechless.

"Is your ego always this big, or is it just me?" you managed to ask, though your voice had sounded weaker than you intended.

"Just you," he replied, his grin softening into something more genuine. "You bring out the best in me, moonbeam."

Before you could formulate a snappy retort, a commotion erupted behind you. Raised voices and curses cut through the background noise, drawing your attention to a group of men arguing near a table. One of them shoved another, and you instinctively tensed.

"Dae-ho," you hissed, elbowing him. "Something's happening."

"Huh?" He blinked, finally tearing his gaze away from you to glance in the direction of the chaos. "Oh. Looks like a fight."

"Yeah, thanks, Sherlock," you muttered, standing up as the tension escalated. One of the men pulled out a knife, waving it threateningly.

"Let's just get out of here," you grabbed Dae-ho's arm. But before you could pull him away, the fight spilled dangerously close to the bar.

Everything that happened next was a blur. The man with the knife lunged forward, clearly aiming for his opponent, but the latter ducked, and somehow, Dae-ho, who inexplicably stepped forward, took the hit instead.

"Shit!" you yelled, catching him as he stumbled back. The knife had grazed his side, leaving a shallow but nasty wound. Blood seeped through his shirt, and panic had gripped you.

"Dae-ho!" you exclaimed, your hands gripping his shoulders. "What the hell were you thinking?"

He winced, a crooked grin tugging at his lips despite the pain. "Guess I wasn't."

"No kidding," you snapped, grabbing a napkin from the bar to press against his wound. "Who gets stabbed because they're too busy flirting?"

"Is that… your way of admitting I'm hard to resist?" he asked, his voice strained but still tinged with humor.

You glared at him, though your heart was racing for entirely different reasons. "Shut up and sit down. You're bleeding."

"I've had worse," he said, but he sank obediently into a nearby chair, his hand covering yours as you applied pressure to his wound. "Besides, I couldn't let anything happen to you."

"I was fine," you muttered through gritted teeth. "You're the one who almost got killed because you can't stop playing knight in shining armor."

"Be honest," he said with a weak chuckle. "You'd really miss me if I wasn't around."

You froze at his words, remembering the last time, he's said them, your breath hitching. But this time, the thought of losing him, wasn't so far away. Momentarily, the noise of the bar faded, replaced by the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

"Don't be stupid," you said softly.

"I knew it! I do have an effect on you," he grinned triumphantly, "I'll take my victory now, thanks."

You rolled your eyes, but the faint tremble in your hands gave you away. "Just… try not to die, okay?"

His grin widened, despite the pain etched across his face. "If it means seeing you worried about me? Worth it."

As much as you wanted to deny it back then, he hadn't been wrong. You would miss him. And that had terrified you more than any knife ever could.

Your relationship had always been a slow burn, like embers catching fire after months of waiting for the perfect conditions. On that rainy Saturday night, after the chaos at the bar, you found yourself driving Dae-ho to the hospital, his side patched up with hastily wrapped gauze that barely held back the bleeding. He sat in the passenger seat, uncharacteristically quiet, his usual energy dampened by the pain and the rain drumming on the windshield.

"You didn't have to do this," he muttered after a while, his head leaning back against the seat.

"Of course I did," you replied without looking at him, your knuckles tight around the steering wheel. "I wasn't going to let you bleed out in some alley."

He chuckled faintly, the sound tinged with both amusement and exhaustion. "You've got a funny way of showing you care."

You ignored him, keeping your focus on the road, though your heart clenched at the way his voice sounded weaker than usual.

At the hospital, you stayed with him through the stitches, arms crossed over your chest as he cracked half-hearted jokes to distract himself from the needle. When the nurse asked if you were his girlfriend, you didn't bother to deny it, instead rolling your eyes and muttering, "Just patch him up, will you?"

By the time you were finally helping him to his apartment, the rain had turned into a steady downpour. He leaned on you as you guided him up the stairs, his weight a reminder of how fragile this moment felt despite the humor he tried to inject into it.

As you reached the cover of his apartment's awning, you let out a breath, finally releasing your grip on his arm. The warm glow of the entryway light cast over the two of you, highlighting the faint smirk tugging at his lips despite everything.

"I've got to say," he began, leaning heavily against the doorframe, "I think this is the longest you've ever willingly spent with me. Kind of feels like progress."

You shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it. "You're an idiot," you said, shaking your head. "Why do you always make everything a joke?"

"Because someone's gotta balance us out," he quipped, though his grin faltered as he studied your face. "You're always so serious, moonbeam."

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the sound of rain filling the silence. He tilted his head slightly, as if debating whether to push further. Then, in a softer tone, he said, "Why do you act like you don't care when I know you do?"

His question caught you off guard, the vulnerability in his voice digging into the walls you'd carefully built around yourself. You looked away, the words forming in your throat before you could stop them. "Because caring about people… it hurts. And I've had enough of that."

Silence stretched between you again, heavier this time. When you finally looked at him, the teasing glint in his eyes was gone, replaced by something deeper, something that made your chest tighten.

"You don't have to be scared of me," he said quietly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I don't get it," you mumbled, more to yourself than to him.

"Don't get what?"

"You. Why you're always so nice to me."

He tilted his head as he studied you through the rain. "Because you're worth it," he said simply as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, his voice soft but certain. "And because I like you."

The words caught you off guard, your heart skipping a beat. You could only stare at him, the rain a gentle soundtrack to the weight of his confession.

"Say something, moonbeam," he teased, his grin crooked but genuine.

The rawness of his words, the way he had said them like a promise, made something inside you snap. Before you could second-guess yourself, you stepped closer, your hands reaching for his collar. You kissed him, tentative at first, your lips brushing against his like you were testing the waters. He froze, clearly surprised, but only for a short moment. Then his hands were on your waist, steadying you as he kissed you back with a tenderness that belied his usual boldness.

The warmth of his lips, the faint taste of blood and rain, made your head spin. It wasn't rushed or frantic, it was slow, deliberate, like he didn't want to miss a single second of it. When you pulled back, his eyes searched yours, his expression soft but unreadable.

"That's a good start," he murmured, his fingers brushing a raindrop from your cheek.

And that was the night everything shifted.

Even now, years later, as you sat curled up on the couch in one of his oversized hoodies, that kiss lingered in your memory, replaying in these quiet moments like a favorite song. You hadn't realized it then, but that kiss had marked the beginning of a life you'd never imagined for yourself, a life with him. You were lazily scrolling through your phone, as the smell of coffee wafted from the kitchen, a comforting scent that told you Dae-ho was busy doing something, blending with the faint hum of his voice as he moved about.

You smiled to yourself, tracing the worn fabric of the hoodie with your fingertips.

"Babe," his voice called from the kitchen, teasing and light, pulling you from your thoughts, "if I bring you coffee in bed, does that make me husband material, or is it too early for that kind of promotion?"

You snorted, setting your phone down as you stretched. "You've gotta stop campaigning so hard, Dae-ho. It's getting desperate."

He appeared in the doorway, holding two mugs of steaming coffee and wearing the kind of grin that made your stomach flip. "Desperate? Honey, this is a demonstration of premium boyfriend services." He crossed the room, setting the mugs on the coffee table before flopping down next to you.

"Premium?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "You didn't even bring toast."

He gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. "Are you doubting the quality of my care and devotion?"

"I'm just saying," you replied with a smirk, "a little effort wouldn't kill you."

"Oh, you want effort?" he teased, leaning over you, his face suddenly much closer than you anticipated. His arm stretched over the back of the couch, caging you in just slightly. "Name it, and it's yours."

You stared at him, biting your lip to keep from laughing. "Okay. Toast. I want toast."

He narrowed his eyes playfully, tilting his head. "You sure about that? Not, I don't know, me? Because I'm sitting right here."

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks warmed as he leaned closer, the playful glint in his eyes softening into something warmer. "You're still annoying," you said under your breath, trying to sound in-fact annoyed, but your voice betrayed you, coming out softer than you intended.

"And you're adorable," he shot back, his lips brushing against your forehead. "I think we're even."

The warmth of his breath lingered on your skin as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. His hand slid down to your waist, tugging you closer until your legs were tangled together, his thumb idly tracing circles over the fabric of your hoodie.

"You look good in my clothes," he murmured, his voice dipping lower. "Almost too good. How am I supposed to let you out of this apartment now?"

You couldn't stop the small laugh that bubbled up, even as your heart raced. "Who said I was going anywhere?"

His grin widened at your response, and before you could say anything else, he turned you with a swift motion, settling you on top of him so that your legs straddled his hips. The shift left you breathless, your bare thighs brushing against his sides as his hands splayed firmly on your waist, holding you in place.

"Good," he said, his voice lower now, a little rougher around the edges. His dark eyes held yours, their usual playfulness tempered with something deeper, something that made your stomach flutter. "Because I can't get enough of you."

His words sent a shiver down your spine. He tilted his head back slightly, his thumb tracing absent patterns along your hip. "You, moonbeam," he murmured, his gaze intense. "You're addicting. Like I'm craving something I can't ever stop wanting."

You felt your breath hitch, your heart thudding in your chest. You tried to compose yourself, to play it cool, but the way he looked at you made it impossible to be unaffected. Instead, you leaned forward slightly, letting your hands rest on his chest. "Dae-ho," you softly said his name the way you knew it drove him crazy, "You keep talking like that, and I might think you're the romantic one in this relationship."

His lips quirked into a smirk, but his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you even closer. "Don't think. Know. And I'll keep proving it until you never question it again."

You couldn't help but laugh softly, the sound blending with the warmth of his presence. "You're setting the bar pretty high for yourself, you know."

He shrugged, his hands never leaving your waist, "That just means I have to keep finding ways to spoil you."

In that moment, the world outside disappeared, leaving just the two of you tangled together. His hands slowly slid down to your thighs now, his thumbs brushing over your skin, while his gaze never left yours. You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, and his arms circled back around you, holding you impossibly close as though you might vanish if he didn't.

"I told you," he murmured against your lips. "Addicting."

"I know," you said softly, capturing his lips in another slow kiss. "And that's why I love you."

His boyish grin returned against your lips, softer this time, "I love you, too. But I'm still not getting up for toast."

You burst out laughing, and he pulled you even tighter against him, his chuckle rumbling through his chest as he pressed a kiss against your jaw. Right then and there, everything felt right, like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. You smiled, letting yourself melt into him, and you thought to yourself that this was where you were meant to be. Not because he was your sun or you were his moon, but because together, you created something whole.

Something timeless.

Something infinite.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

836 notes · View notes

ilovedinodino · 29 days ago

Text

player 066

synopsis: Haechan came to earn money from some strange games and didn't expect to see you, his ex.

paring: player!haechan x player!reader

warnings: blood, fights, literally the same thing that happens in the squid game happens here

wc: 5259

Who haven’t seen season 2 don’t read it!

Haechan didn’t expect this. He didn’t expect some childish games to involve death for losing. After the first game, he was horrified and wanted nothing more than to go home, back to his friends and family. He was certain that during the vote, everyone would choose X—but how wrong he was.

Haechan glanced up at the scoreboard, silently praying that the remaining players would come to their senses and choose to leave this wretched place. He wanted to scream.

“Player 012.”

Haechan turned toward the crowd, and his breath caught.

“Y/N?..”

The boy froze in shock, unable to believe his eyes as he watched you stand there, hesitating over which button to press.

Haechan’s mind raced. Why is this so hard for you to decide? Weren’t you terrified after everything you’ve seen? And why the fuck are you here?

*Ding.*

The blue light flashed, and Team O erupted in cheers, celebrating loudly.

You had chosen O.

—

After the vote, they started handing out food. By the way, four people voted after you, and two of them chose O, which meant you weren’t allowed to leave and should to play next game. Haechan was upset and still couldn’t understand what you were doing here. He wanted to find you, but he lost you in the sea of green uniforms.

Grabbing his food, Haechan began walking toward one of the bunks. Then he stopped. You were sitting on one of the beds, quietly eating.

God, you were beautiful. You had always been beautiful, but Haechan hadn’t seen you in five months, and in that moment, he thought you’d become even more radiant.

Without hesitation, he quickly walked over to you.

You were eating peacefully when you suddenly felt someone standing in front of you. Slowly, you lifted your head, ready to say something to the stranger with number 066, but then you saw him.

Lee Haechan.

The same guy you had broken up with and still couldn’t come to terms with. For half a year, you had tried to forget him, but nothing worked. You thought of him every night in your dreams, before falling asleep, and even in the mornings. Constantly. And now, here he was, standing in this strange place, wearing a strange green uniform, right in front of you.

“Y/N,” he said softly.

“Haechan,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

“What are you doing here?”

You flinched at the question. What were you doing here? You didn’t even know yourself. You had wanted to escape somewhere far away from everything, and this seemed like a perfect solution—earning some money along the way didn’t hurt either.

“I came to win money, just like you. Is that not allowed?” you said, your tone cold.

Haechan’s expression softened, his heart sinking at your distant words. Still, he sat down next to you while you shot him a wary look.

“Do you need money?” he asked gently.

"I need to pay for my studies."

"You could have asked me."

"You?" You laugh. "You’re here because you don’t have money yourself, and you’re telling me I should’ve asked you? Besides, don’t you think it’s strange to ask for money from your ex—someone you haven’t talked to or seen in six months?"

Haechan falls silent. Technically, you were right. But he wasn’t completely broke—he could’ve helped you if you had asked. He was here to earn more money for his dreams, so he wouldn’t have to take out extra loans. And you were also right about the part with the ex, but Haechan didn’t want to dwell on that. It hurt too much.

"Why did you vote to keep playing? Did that old man convince you?"

You smirk and poke at the rice with your spoon.

"I didn’t want to go home, and the prize money was too small."

"20 million won is too small?!" Haechan stares at you in disbelief. "Aren’t you afraid you might die?"

"I’m not," you reply, avoiding his gaze, while he keeps looking at you intently.

"From now on, I’ll stay with you."

"What?" You lift your head in surprise, finally looking him in the eye.

"From this moment on..." Haechan’s eyes lock with yours. "...I’ll be with you," he says, a soft smile spreading across his face.

"I ran away from everyone to end up with you following me around? No, Haechan, I don’t need this." You start to get up, setting your meal aside, but Haechan grabs your wrist and stands with you.

"Let go."

"I’m not letting you go in a place like this. It’s too dangerous."

"I’m not a child, Haechan."

"I don’t care. You can do whatever you want, but I won’t even consider leaving you alone here."

You stare at each other for a long moment, his grip firm yet not forceful. Deep down, you know he won’t back down—not even with a gun to his head. Haechan had always been this stubborn.

Of course, you were just as stubborn, but the truth was, you were glad he was here with you, even if you refused to admit it.

—

After lights out, you were escorted to the next game. You tried to avoid Haechan, but it didn’t work very well. At that moment, as you climbed the stairs, he was right behind you. You hadn’t even noticed when he managed to fall into step behind you.

"Don’t try to run away from me, sweetheart," he leaned in and whispered in your ear.

You ignored him and kept walking.

"I heard that in the next game, you’ll have to carve shapes out of a cookie, so pick the triangle," he added casually.

You stopped and turned to face him.

"Where did you hear that?"

Haechan simply shrugged and gently turned you back around, nudging you to keep moving forward.

It didn’t feel like a game about cookies.

Somehow, you managed to slip away from Haechan and stood at the far end of the room, nearly alone. Like everyone else, you were surveying the space when a female voice suddenly rang out:

"Divide into teams of five."

Damn. This definitely wasn’t about cookies. You looked around, seeing how everyone began forming teams, scrambling to find people.

You spotted a group of men and cautiously approached them.

"Excuse me. I’m on my own—can I join your team?"

The four men gave you a once-over before exchanging looks.

"Listen, we need strong and smart people on our team..."

You didn’t need to hear more to understand their implication. They didn’t want women—they wanted men. Letting out a frustrated sigh, you turned and started searching again.

—

Haechan was losing his mind. He had searched the entire damn hall, and you were nowhere to be found. The thought of you being stuck with some random weaklings or sketchy players made his blood boil. You had to be with him—right now, no, right this second.

"Hey, want to team up with me?"

Haechan turned toward the voice and saw a guy around his age grinning at him.

"I noticed you’re walking around alone. I’m on my own too, so if you don’t mind, we could team up and look for more people together."

The guy’s wide smile seemed genuine, and Haechan figured it wasn’t the worst idea.

"Yeah, sure. But there’s going to be a girl with us. Is that okay with you?"

The guy waved his hand dismissively, his grin unwavering.

"Of course! That’s even better. I’m Hendery, by the way."

He extended his hand, and Haechan shook it firmly.

"Haechan."

"Nice to meet you! So, where’s the girl?"

Haechan’s jaw tightened as he scanned the room again, his frustration bubbling.

"That’s what I’m trying to figure out."

Hendery glanced at the timer and nodded.

"We still have time, so we’ll find her. What does she look like?"

Haechan opened his mouth to reply but suddenly froze. His eyes caught sight of you—standing just behind Hendery. But you weren’t alone. You were with some guy.

Without thinking, Haechan shot up and strode toward you, his sudden movements making Hendery follow in confusion.

"Y/N! Where the hell have you been?!"

You flinched as Haechan grabbed your arm unexpectedly, letting out an exasperated sigh when you realized it was him.

"God, could you be gentler?!"

"Gentler?!" Haechan’s voice dripped with frustration. "Where have you been? Why did you—" He cut himself off abruptly when his gaze locked onto the tall guy standing next to you.

The boy fidgeted under Haechan’s intense stare before mumbling awkwardly, "I’m Sungchan. Nice to meet you." He extended a hand hesitantly, and Haechan shook it reluctantly, his grip firmer than necessary.

"Oh! We only need one more person now, and we’re set!" Hendery exclaimed enthusiastically, his bright demeanor completely at odds with the tense atmosphere.

Haechan, however, wasn’t sharing in the excitement. His sharp eyes darted between you and Sungchan, while you glared back at him with irritation. Sungchan seemed ready to disappear under the pressure of Haechan’s silent judgment.

"I’m with you," a deep voice suddenly cut through the awkwardness.

All four of you turned to see an incredibly tall man with long hair stepping toward the group. His commanding presence left everyone speechless for a moment.

Hendery, however, didn’t miss a beat. "Perfect!" he cheered, practically beaming at the addition.

But Haechan’s attention was still fixed on you and Sungchan, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. This wasn’t how he imagined things would go.

—

Once the announcement was made to assign one person to each of the five games, the team gathered, exchanging uncertain glances.

"I’ll take Jegi. That’s literally the only game I can play," you declared, breaking the silence. The guys turned to look at you, and the tall man with the long hair chuckled, tilting his head.

"Alright, but who’s the strongest here? We’ll need someone for Ddakji."

The group fell silent until Sungchan nervously raised his hand.

"I… I think I can handle it."

Haechan was about to say something when you cut him off, pointing directly at him.

"Haechan will play Gong-gi!"

"What?!" he exclaimed, wide-eyed.

"You’re practically a pro at it! Come on, don’t pretend you’re not." You nudged his shoulder, and he glanced around nervously.

"Really? We need someone skilled for that game," Hendery chimed in with his ever-optimistic grin.

Haechan sighed in defeat, muttering, "Fine, I’ll do it."

"I’ll take Flying Stone," the long-haired man said calmly, crossing his arms.

"Guess that leaves me with Spinning Top," Hendery shrugged, still grinning as if this was all a casual game night.

—

*Bang.*

The sound of a gunshot echoed through the room, followed by the horrifying thud of bodies hitting the floor.

You violently, your gaze glued to the bloodied corpses of the first two groups. They hadn’t made it. They hadn’t been fast enough.

Fear surged through you like ice. What if your team wasn’t fast enough? What if you couldn’t hit the shuttlecock five times in Jegi? What if—

"Y/N," Haechan’s soft voice broke through the storm in your mind.

His hands gently landed on your shoulders, steadying you.

"Hey," he whispered, carefully turning you away from the blood-soaked floor. "Don’t look at that. Look at me."

You hesitated but finally met his gaze. He smiled at you, warm and reassuring, his hands still resting on your shoulders as if to anchor you.

"Everything will be fine," he said, his voice soft but firm.

You stood there, frozen, staring at him. Slowly, his calm confidence seeped into you, easing the rigid tension in your body. For a moment, all you could focus on was the safety in his eyes.

—

“Damn, we’re last. That’s sad,” Hendery joked, his tone light despite the tension.

Your team stood still as the staff locked the metal restraints around your ankles, the heavy weight of the game’s stakes settling in. And you were here alone. Only with another team.

The game began.

Sungchan wasted no time. Grabbing the Ddakji square, he struck with precision, flipping the paper on his first try.

"YES!" you all shouted in unison, voices echoing in the room as you sprinted to the next game.

"One, two! One, two!"

The second game flew by in a blur. The tall man threw the stone with ease, landing it perfectly before swiftly striking it back to the start. Another victory. You jumped up and down, cheering wildly as the group moved cautiously to the next station.

The third game was Gong-gi. The group waited as the guard placed the table and handed out the small stones.

Haechan’s hands were trembling. No one seemed to notice, riding the adrenaline high of their earlier wins, but his heart was racing. He sat down, staring at the stones as he picked up the first one.

Focus. Just focus.

He dropped it.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, gathering the stones again.

"Haechan, it’s fine! Don’t rush, we still have time," Hendery said from the side, his encouraging words meant to ease the tension.

But it didn’t help. Haechan’s hands shook even more, and the stones slipped again.

“Come on,” he whispered, frustration bubbling in his chest. He started over, but his nerves betrayed him, the stones scattering across the table once more.

Haechan glanced at the timer, panic surging as he realized how much time he’d wasted. He hadn’t even cleared the round.

“Crap, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I—”

"Donghyuck."

Your voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. He felt your hand gently rest on his shoulder, and he turned to look at you.

His face was drenched in sweat, his expression on the verge of breaking completely.

You didn’t say anything at first. Instead, you reached out and placed your palm softly against his cheek, stroking it with a calmness that seemed out of place in the chaos around you.

“You’ve got this,” you said softly, your voice steady and warm.

Haechan blinked at you, the fear in his eyes slowly giving way to something else—something calmer, more grounded. For the first time since the game started, his hands steadied.

“You’re okay, Hyuck. You’ll get through this. You’ve always done it for me, right?”

Something tugged at his chest when he heard the nickname only you used for him. Feeling the warmth of your hand on his cheek, Haechan steadied his breath.

He started again, his movements faster and more precise this time. One by one, he flipped the stones with skill, catching them all in the end. He slowly raised his fist to show the guard, who silently gave an “O” gesture.

“Success.”

Cheers erupted as you all celebrated, moving on to the next game.

"One, two! One, two!"

—

The last two games were grueling, but somehow, you all managed to finish with just five seconds left on the timer. It was a narrow escape, but an escape nonetheless.

Now, back in the main hall, the atmosphere was somber. No one spoke as the weight of what you’d just been through settled over the group.

Haechan had quietly moved away from the rest of you, sitting by himself in the corner. His head was low, his shoulders slumped.

“Haechan, why are you sitting there?” Hendery asked, his concern evident as he got up and walked over.

The rest of you followed, though you sat a bit farther from him than the others.

“I’m sorry…” Haechan mumbled into his hands, his face buried in his knees. “Because of me… you all almost died… I shouldn’t have—”

Hendery wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a reassuring hug.

“Hey, come on now,” Sungchan chimed in, patting Haechan’s back. “You didn’t do anything wrong. After everything we’ve seen today, who wouldn’t be shaken up? No one could focus in a place like this.”

“This place is insane,” Sungchan added, his voice filled with frustration.

You glanced at him, noticing a cross on his chest. A quick look at the others revealed the same symbol on Hendery and the tall man.

But when your eyes dropped to your own chest, you realized you were the only one with the O.

“It's because of me that we’re still here...”

Everyone’s attention shifts to you as your words hang in the air.

“I voted to continue the game…” You glance down at your hoodie.

“Come on, guys, stop!” The tall, handsome guy says, trying to comfort you. “We all make mistakes. The important thing is that we’re still alive. Besides, you weren’t the only one who voted to continue. So you’re not to blame.”

Haechan, who had raised his head when you began speaking, watches you silently while you focus on your sneakers.

“By the way, my name is Johnny. I’m from Chicago.”

“Chicago? I was there once when I was a kid. Im Hendery!” Hendery says, introducing himself.

“I’m Sungchan!”

“Lee Haechan…” Haechan mutters quietly, and everyone turns their attention to you, waiting for your response.

Noticing the silence, you lift your head and hesitate for a moment. “I... Y/N...”

“Nice to meet everyone!” Johnny says with a cheerful grin.

—

The second voting began. This time, you were certain that you were going to leave. After such a brutal game, you were sure that everyone else would want to leave too. There was no other option. Could they really be this stupid?

*Ding.*

The blue team jumps in joy.

24 – 28.

What the hell?

Soon, the score is tied, and the red team starts to win. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Guys, why are you so boring? Let's all vote for the circle, okay?”

“God, this freak again,” you mutter to yourself after the guy with purple hair votes.

“Yeah, he's definitely strange,” Haechan agrees with you.

Fuck.

The last person went to vote, and the blue team won. They celebrated loudly while you, the red team, sat quietly, frustrated and angry.

"Let's see how they’ll celebrate when they all die," you turn at the harsh, blunt voice of Hendery.

"What?" He glance at you. "I just want to go home, and because of these stupid assholes, I’m back on the edge of death again.” Hendery kicks the floor and heads to the bed.

You all exchange glances, taken aback by this unexpected side of him.

“He can be like this?”

—

After the food was handed out, you left it with Songchan and went to the bathroom. You couldn’t stay there, you had no appetite. How could you think about food after everything you had seen? You walked to the sink, turned on cold water, and washed your face. The bathroom was empty, and you finally felt some peace. But suddenly the door opened, and Haechan stepped in.

"Why are you in the women’s bathroom?" you asked, surprised. Haechan smiled and replied:

"Women’s? This is the men’s bathroom, Y/N." You stepped out and saw that the door did indeed say "men’s bathroom." Haechan grinned and said:

"Didn’t you notice anything strange?" He walked to the sink and started washing his face.

"I didn’t pay attention to anything except the sink..." you ignored the fact that you were still in the men’s bathroom, since no one else was there except Haechan. What difference did it make?

"Are you okay?" Haechan asked as he wiped his face with his shirt. You slowly turned to him.

"I... yeah... ah, fuck, of course I’m not okay! How could I be okay when I’ve seen so many people get killed right in front of me? When my clothes are soaked in their blood? When I was almost killed myself? Who could be okay after all that? Only crazy people, Haechan!" Haechan stood in shock at your loud outburst. You both stood there, looking at each other, until you spoke again:

"Sorry... I just want to go home and live a normal life." You leaned over the sink again, splashing your face with water and wiping it. Haechan stayed silent, then approached you and gently lifted your face.

"Y/N, I understand, don’t apologize. I’m going crazy here too, from this place and these people. You saw how I almost got us killed? I lost my mind completely."

"Don’t say that, you didn’t do anything," you interrupted him.

"You didn’t do anything either, so don’t blame yourself for the first vote. Just calm down. I said I’d always be here for you, and I kept my word, didn’t I?"

You looked at his face for a long moment and quietly said:

"You haven’t been here for me the last five months."

Haechan smiled softly and stroked your face.

"It’s not about that now, Y/N. Let’s not talk about it."

"Why? Because you stopped loving me and left? Now you're pretending like nothing happened?"

"Y/N, it's not like that, and you know it. I never stopped loving you."

"Sunghoon said you didn’t care about me, that you didn’t care about our relationship. He said you found someone else…"

"Do you believe that jerk?"

You flinch at his sharp, cold tone.

"I..."

"You're still listening to him? I told you he's ruining your life. Didn't he make you fight with Karina? Why are you still falling for it?"

"I'm not falling for it..."

"Then shut up and stop talking about him. Everything he tells you is a lie, especially about me and our relationship. I’ve always loved you, Y/N. You know why we broke up, and it wasn’t our fault. It just happened."

You feel hot tears on your cheeks and start to sob. Haechan wipes your tears away and leans in to kiss them.

"Please, don’t cry. We... we’ll fix all of this when we get out of this game..."

You stay quiet, just looking at each other.

"Promise?"

"I promise." Haechan smiles, then slowly leans in to kiss you on the lips. Without thinking, you kiss him back. At first, it’s slow and calm. You place your hands on his neck, pulling him closer, and he moves his hands to your waist, doing the same. He presses you against the sink, and the kiss deepens and quickens. Haechan moves his hands from your waist to your hips. You’re running out of breath and pull away.

"Not here, Haechan…"

Haechan looks at you with dark eyes and slowly nods. He leans back in and kisses you again, but this time more gently.

"Oh my god, guys! You scared me! So this is where you disappeared to!" The door suddenly swings open, and Hendery walks in. You quickly pull away from Haechan and fix yourself, but Haechan seems unfazed that you were caught and quietly laughs at your reaction.

—

Third Game: Mingle!

Huh?

You were standing in a huge hall with carousel horses placed in the center. The host explained the rules while the five of you listened intently. After last night, Haechan stayed even closer to you, almost lying down next to you to protect you. Though you couldn’t help but wonder, protect from who?

The game began.

They spun you around so you nearly fell, but Haechan caught you in time. As you stood there together, a familiar voice echoed:

"Five!"

"We’re five!" Sungchan shouted, and you all ran to the door in a panic.

Everyone was scrambling, rushing to find their groups. You could’ve been left behind, frozen in shock, but Haechan held your hand tightly and pulled you toward the red door with the others.

5… 4…

The five of you quickly squeezed in and shut the door.

3… 2… 1…

Silence.

Standing beside Johnny, you peeked through the peephole to see the remaining players who hadn’t found their groups. Suddenly, you flinched as gunfire erupted. They were being executed one by one. You should’ve been used to this by now, but every time it left you frozen, unable to believe your eyes.

Haechan grabbed your wrist and pulled you close.

"I told you not to look. Look at me, only at me. Stay by my side, okay?"

You nodded quickly.

When the door opened, the smell of blood hit you like a wave. Red puddles spread across the floor.

"If people still want to play after this game, I’ll just shoot myself right here," Hendery muttered, walking toward the carousel.

Song began again.

“And have fun jumping around. Round and round.”

“3!”

The lights flickered, and the room descended into chaos. People were running again, panicked and screaming.

"Sungchan and I will find another group. You three stick together!" Johnny yelled.

You stood frozen, watching your friends, terrified to let them go. But the two guys grabbed your hands and pulled you toward the yellow door.

You barely managed to squeeze through before the timer ended and the door slammed shut.

You rushed to the door, frantically looking for Sungchan and Johnny, but they were nowhere to be seen. You could only hope they were safe.

When you exited, two tall guys immediately approached you.

"You’re alive!" Hendery exclaimed, hugging them.

“And have fun jumping around. Round and round.”

“4!”

The five of you looked around again when Haechan suddenly shouted:

«Go as a group of four! I’ll find someone on my own»You stared at him in shock, grabbing his hand.

«Are you crazy? I’m going with you!»

Haechan gently removed your hands and smiled.

«Y/N, please go. There’s no time.»

You shook your head, refusing, but Sungchan pulled you away by the arm. You tried to break free, yelling:

“Haechan, no! You idiot, don’t leave me! You promised to stay with me!”

But Haechan disappeared into the crowd. Sungchan managed to push you into a small room just as the door closed.

“No! Open it! Open the damn door!” you banged on the door, desperately peering through the peephole to find Haechan.

In the darkness, everyone looked alike, and with horror, you noticed someone who resembled Haechan. Right in front of you, they were shot. You stumbled backward, tears streaming down your face, and turned sharply to the others.

“What if it was him?! This is all your fault!”

“Y/N, calm down. He’s a smart guy; he must have found a group” Sungchan tried to reassure you.

“I just saw someone get killed! What if it was him?!”you cried hysterically, your vision blurring. You sank to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, until Hendery approached and carefully tried to comfort you.

“He’s alive, Y/N. It’s going to be okay,” he said gently.

You were on edge, unable to think clearly. The games had pushed you to the brink, and the fear of losing Haechan consumed you. The pain of him leaving you again mixed with the terror of the moment.

When the door opened, Hendery helped you stand. You rushed out, scanning every door, but there was no sign of the one you were looking for.

“Guys!” a familiar voice called from behind.

You turned sharply and saw Haechan. He stood there with an elderly woman and two men.

“I found these wonderful people, and they saved me...” he began.

Before he could finish, you ran to him, throwing your arms around him so tightly it felt like you feared losing him again.

«Hey, Y/N, I’m here. Everything’s okay.»

«Don’t you dare leave me again,» your voice trembled with emotion.

You lifted your head, pouting slightly, and Haechan smiled softly at your adorable expression, brushing his hand over your hair.

“I promise, I won’t leave you.”

“This is the final round!”

“Thank god” Hendery said.

“And have fun jumping around. Round and round.”

“2!”

Haechan immediately grabbed your hand, pulling you close, and glanced at the others.

“Split up. Only one person is needed here, i can do it” Hendery said and smilled to you.

You and Haechan sprinted toward the door. He opened it and was about to step inside when you suddenly broke free from his grip. Someone shoved you roughly, pushing you aside.

A man dashed past you, slipping into the room with Haechan and slamming the door shut.

You froze, staring in horror at the closed door.

Haechan turned, realizing your hand was no longer in his. When he saw a stranger instead of you, his expression darkened with fury.

“Get out!” he shouted, shoving the man.

“There’s no time!” the man argued, resisting him.

Haechan said nothing. He punched the man in the jaw, then shoved him toward the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

The timer hit zero, and the doors locked.

Haechan stood motionless, staring at the door in disbelief. Then he heard gunshots.

No. No way.

"This is all because of you, asshole."

Haechan furiously lunges at the guy, punching him in the face.

"I’m sorry! I just wanted to survive! I accidentally went into your door!" the guy pleads.

"You pushed her! She was with me!" Haechan yells, continuing to hit him. But he suddenly freezes when he hears the guy’s next words:

"I didn’t push anyone, I swear! I was just running, trying to find someone, and I saw you were alone! Please, stop, don’t hit me!"

The guy covers his face with his hands as Haechan, still holding him by the collar, breathes heavily, staring him down. After a few seconds, the door opens.

Haechan immediately rushes into the hall, frantically scanning it for you. But you’re nowhere to be seen.

"Please, no…" he whispers, panic overtaking him.

A minute earlier.

You stare at the door in terror, watching another guy enter and shut it behind him.

You’re going to die.

You don’t even try to get up in the chaos around you. You’ve accepted it—this is the end. Is this really how it’s going to end? You didn’t even get to do anything with your life.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a hand grabbing yours and pulling you up. You stand and see Hendery in front of you.

"Hendery?"

"Quick, run! There’s only one door left!"

You spot the open green door, and the two of you dash toward it together.

There’s barely any time left, and you’re running as fast as you can.

4… 3…

No. You didn’t want to die. You couldn’t die now.

2…

Hendery pushes you through the door and quickly shuts it behind you.

1…

Click.

"Damn. We made it… I really thought I was going to die back there."

You sit on the floor, wide-eyed, staring at him. Hendery turns to you, his gaze softening.

"God, I’m so sorry. I pushed you too hard. I was panicking—we were so close to running out of time."

He rushes over to you, helping you up and checking for any injuries.

"I’m fine! Really, I’m okay. Thank you for saving me."

"You’re the one who saved me. If I hadn’t seen you, I would’ve died. But, wait… where’s Haechan?"

"Someone pushed me, and he got shoved into a room… That’s how we ended up separated."

"Man, people here are seriously insane."

You laugh and nod in agreement.

As Haechan gets closer to the carousel, he spots you standing next to Hendery. The moment you see him, you both run toward each other.

"Haechan, we made it! Hendery and I are safe!"

"If it wasn’t for her, I’d be dead! Some girl ditched me, and I was in complete panic!" Hendery adds.

But Haechan doesn’t hear a word. He simply pulls you into a tight embrace, breathing shakily. Then he starts inspecting your face and body, searching for any injuries.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did you fall? Did he push you too hard?!"

"I’m fine, Haechan. I’m okay."

With a sigh of relief, he hugs you again.

"Don’t ever leave me like that again."

“I won’t i promise.”

note: squid game doesn’t have the end yet thats why this story doesn’t have too…

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bunnyinvanilla · 2 months ago

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sugar daddy bar!owner john price x sugar baby!waitress series

🥀 |warnings: +18, laaargw age gap (reader is 21 and price is in his 40s), fem!reader, sugar daddy/baby relationship mentioned, not smut but suggestive.

price thought a doll like you deserved a grown, strong old man like him to treat you like a princess — spoil you rotten, wrap you up in bubble wrap and take care of you. You didn’t need to work, get your pretty hands sore and tired from pouring drinks all the time. he’d give you all the money you needed to pay off your college and to get all the pink, girly things you liked so much, ribbons and all. You just needed to sit cutely on his lap, to be his, and he’d give you the whole world. He was in his 40’s, you had only recently turned 21, a flower on the prime of her blossoming youth, who could give an old, worn out man like him some sugar.

that’s why he offered you to be his sugar baby. that offer, made you flush on the spot — he was so confident and composed, unfazed by his own words. The moment he saw redness spread over you cheeks, he knew he had you. His mustache twitched, his salt and pepper beard stretched as he wore an amused, lazy smile. you were always so obedient and compliant to him, always chirping a “yes sir” to anything he’d ask or tell you to do, a sweet, young, too young lil thing, eager to earn his praise, to feel those goosebumps trail down your skin when he muttered a gruff, deep “good girl”, you’d be the perfect submissive, you’d have it in you to be trained already, even in your innocence and inexperience..

..but, you’d initially declined his offer, because “I want to earn that money, sir, and I’d feel bad if you just..gave it to me like that”

oh, how honest, naive, innocent and pure you were. He admired that about you, but you could see it in his eyes, the way he cocked his thick, dark brown brow upward, that he didn’t believe you’d cling onto those words for long. He knew you were just too shy to accept, but you wanted to. You wanted to be his pretty, little girl. and he was right, as always. One particular night, you’d found a moment to lean your arms against the wooden counter and just breath. You’d been studying all morning, head buried in your notes, and when you got to the bar, you found dozens of soon to be drunk men ready to order alcohol and ask you to bring them ashtrays.

you wanted nothing more than go back home, snuggle in your pink, soft blankets and read your so loved books — it had just been a draining day, you enjoyed your job, but to be honest with yourself, the thing you liked the most was feeling john’s attention and eyes on you during your whole shift and maybe you could finally have someone provide for you.

so, that’s how you found yourself in front of his office door, hesitating lightly while millions of tiny butterflies flew around in your chest, your cheeks as red and warm as ripe strawberries under the summer sun.

knock, knock.

he’d recognized that knock. A feeble, light thud against wood. That couldn’t possibly have been Simon, whose hand could make the whole door shatter down with a single knock, nor Soap’s — bloody hell, that man never bothered to knock at all, he’d just break in.

so he wasn’t surprised to see you, standing meekly in front of his large, wooden desk, the hem of your skirt hugging your milky, bare thighs, your fingers fidgeting together and your eyes looking down at his sitting stance, shy and timid.

“what is it, doll? need ol’ price?” his voice was so rough, so husky, you wondered how it would sound from between your thighs, or from behind you, while his large palm pulled your hair to make you arch against him.

you blinked once, gathering courage to ask for what you’d secretly been daydreaming about, your boss, old enough to be your father, aging like the finest wine, showing you things you’d never ever experienced.

“about your offer, sir” your cheeks were burning, flaming up, “if I accept, can I still come here and help you around?”

“if you accepted,” he almost didn’t even let you finish, eyes already darkening at the thought, a wave of desire rushing through his weary, battle scattered heart, “you could do whatever you wanted, angel, you’d just have to say please”

#john price x y/n #john price x reader #john price imagine #john price x f!reader #john price x female reader #captain price x female reader #captain price x reader #cod #price x female reader #captain price smut

839 notes · View notes

bunnliix · 3 months ago

Text

Pay Attention to Me

Pervert!teez: a collaboration within pirateeznet featuring:

Hongjoong written by @potatomountain | Yunho written by @skteezcursed | Yeosang written by @desirehorizon

San written by @flurrys-creativity | Mingi written by @mingsolo | Wooyoung written by @daddyfordaeddy | Jongho written by @sanjoongie

Pairing: Camboy!Seonghwa x reader Summary: You're roommates with Seonghwa, and he's been trying to get your attention for a while now, maybe you'll finally pay attention to him after what he's done. wc: 4.8k AU: college and camboy!Hwa Genre: Smut MDNI warnings: Fem!reader, perv!Seonghwa, livestreaming on sex sites, masturbation, panty stealing, reader being upset cause life is stupid and frustrating, reader bursting in on Hwa's livestream, yelling, teasing, edging, vaginal penetration, reader and Seonghwa being switches, listening in on someone getting off, pet names (baby, doll), unprotected sex (use a condom y'all), biting, hickeys, nipple play, handjobs, kinda praise kink, some light degradation, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, rough sex, mentions of exhibitionist fantasies, I think that's it, please tell me if I missed anything!

You got home after a long day at university, your classes kicking your ass as always, flopping down face first on your bed. Thankfully, the apartment was quiet, your roommate Seonghwa nowhere to be seen nor heard. Whatever he did in his room, it seemed to only happen at night, which between that and the sounds that sometimes traveled between the thin walls that separate your bedrooms gave you enough clues as to how he earned money. There were times that his job made it hard for you to focus on studying late at night, and you swore that he was loud on purpose sometimes.

You never really minded having Seonghwa as your roommate, it’s not like he was an asshole or anything like that. Honestly, he was the best roommate you had had over the years, as he paid you his half of the bills on time, and left you alone when you needed alone time, and it didn’t hurt that he was attractive.

He usually went out of his way to bring you things throughout the week, and unless you were neck deep in an assignment, you always thanked him. Like now, as your door opened to reveal Park Seonghwa in all his glory, looking like a fucking supermodel.

“I bought you some chocolate, it was on sale at the grocery store.” He said, walking into your room and dropping it next onto an empty spot on your desk.

You looked up at him, “Thank you Seonghwa.”

“You can call me Hwa, y’know,” he reminded you, smirking down at you.

“I’ll remember that for next time,” you said, both of you knowing full well you wouldn’t remember. Whether on purpose or not, was up for debate.

He moved to lay on your bed as you watched him walk over. Your eyes locked on him as he stretched, arching his back in the process before he relaxed fully, smirking when his eyes met yours. You looked away quickly, focusing back on your work.

Seonghwa just lays there silently looking at you while you work, waiting to see if you’ll give him and look at him. If you’ll give in and pay attention to him. Like he’s wanted you to do for the last year.

You had noticed Seonghwa, but you never acted on it. First, you were too busy with school, and second, you didn’t want to ruin the dynamic you two had currently. You enjoyed that you both worked well as roommates, and honestly, good roommates weren’t a dime a dozen. Plus, he was really nice and friendly, when he wasn’t being a bit odd. But his oddities never outweighed the good that he brought to the table.

He continued to lay on your bed for at least a couple hours, you were too absorbed in your schoolwork to notice exactly when he left your room, but you felt something was off. However, you couldn’t say what exactly was off about your room, so you chalked it up to him just accidentally disturbing something while he had entered or left. You thought nothing of it as you left your room to get a quick snack before heading to bed. You did have an exam in one of your classes tomorrow morning, and you needed all the rest you could get. And maybe you’d get to sleep before Seonghwa’s nighttime activities started up once again.

You stumbled into your apartment, completely drained yet also feeling ready to scream. Your day could not have gone worse, and you hoped that maybe you’d be fine now that you were finally back at home. Taking a deep breath as you slid off your shoes and headed towards your bedroom, you heard noise coming from Seonghwa’s bedroom. You felt your body tense up once again, hoping that you’d have the house to yourself since your roommate supposedly had class tonight, but you were wrong.

You tried your best to ignore the sounds coming through the walls, tried to ignore the moans, as you entered your room and found it decidedly messier than you left it. It looked like someone had rummaged through everything, but you had left it organized and clean when you left this morning.

In particular, you found that your dresser had been almost ransacked. The drawers had been opened and closed haphazardly and you knew that no one but Seonghwa had access to the apartment, so it had to be your roommate. You couldn’t believe that he would actually look through your drawers, and as you took a breath and tried to calm down as you fixed the drawers, you noticed that your laundry basket was included in the ransacking of your bedroom, and saw that the pair of underwear you had thrown in their this morning had disappeared. You couldn’t believe that your roommate would be such a fucking pervert, and all patience and calm left you as you stormed out of your room, first banging on his door before slamming Seonghwa’s door open.

As you slammed his door open and went to yell at him, you instead found him in his bed, one pair of your underwear held up to his face, while another was wrapped around his length. You saw his camera recording and the stream up on his monitor, meaning that he was live on whatever cam site he used. The pervert was using your clothes to get off in front of others, and you couldn’t believe the audacity. But, you quickly focused back on the matter at hand.

Seonghwa turned to look at you, as he continued to stroke himself, and as you two made eye contact, his eyes rolled back as he came into your underwear. His body tense as his orgasm washed over him while a stain appeared in the underwear wrapped around his dick.

You stood there shocked into silence as you watched him orgasm, unable to make any noise at all. You couldn’t believe what you had just witnessed, and as much as you were furious, you weren’t sure what to do now. Except maybe burn both pairs of underwear that he had taken.

By the time you had returned to reality and managed to put together words to yell at him, you found that he had ended his livestream, and had returned back to laying on his bed, your underwear still in his possession.

“You’re a fucking pervert!” you yelled at him, finally able to say something, “You really went and stole my underwear to jerk off into for your perverted desires.”

“I did,” Seonghwa admitted, staring at you, “What about it?”

“What about it?! You’re a perverted bastard,” you shouted, “You rummaged through my room and used my clothes, covering them in your sperm!” You shivered in disgust at the reminder of what you witnessed.

“I’d say you’re the pervert here,” he countered, “You stood there and watched me cum into your underwear.”

“I-,” you stuttered, unable to think of a quick response to his words.

“Cat got your tongue?” He taunted you, raising an eyebrow at you.

“How can I be the pervert when you were the one using my underwear to get yourself off,” you replied back, turning to leave the room.

“Yet you watched, and I know you’ve heard me when I’ve been working. I bet you had some fantasies about me, but here you are calling me a pervert,” he said, and before you could leave the doorway, a hand gripped your wrist, stopping you.

“Park Seonghwa, let me go,” you said, trying to pull your arm out of his hold, to no avail.

“Hmm, no. I don’t want to,” he said, pulling you back into his chest, “You aren’t even curious as to why I took your underwear? Not even the slightest bit nosy?” His voice was like velvet as he whispered in your ear.

Your body stiffened as he held onto you, as his arms wrapped around your torso. You were curious, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of winning. You didn’t want to give in, though fucking hell it was tempting. Seonghwa was so tempting, but he was also a panty sniffing pervert and you were at war over what you would do next.

“You won’t even respond to me, doll?” Seonghwa asked you, his hold on you growing just the tiniest bit tighter.

You bit your lip to stop any noises that threatened to escape, and this didn’t go unnoticed by Seonghwa, whose chuckle made you shiver.

“Are you trying to keep your pretty whines from me?” He said, one of his hands coming up to cup your face, as his thumb pulled your bottom lip down while you whined at his actions, too flustered by his presence to stop yourself.

“There’s those pretty noises,” he mused, “I finally get to hear them without having to strain my ears to hear them through the wall.”

At his confession, you managed to find it in yourself to pull away from him, turning to face him. He had been listening to you pleasure yourself through your shared wall? God he really was a pervert. You had been fooled into thinking that he was sweet and nice and not someone who’d do these kinds of things.

“What the fuck?” You said, both to him and to yourself, “You really are a nasty fucking perv.”

“I’m a nasty fucking perv who wants you,” Seonghwa said, reaching out to pull you close once again, and you let him.

You were unable to stop yourself from thinking about how many times he had listened to you, and you know that he must have heard you call out his name at least once. You felt his hand come up to cup your cheek, as he tilted your head back so your eyes met his. This was when you realized just how close you were, his face only inches away.

“Hello doll,” He said, a smirk on his face, “Can I kiss you?”

You almost wanted to giggle, it felt so different from the Seonghwa only minutes prior, but you responded by closing the distance between the two of you, your lips connecting. It was gentle at first, neither of you pushing for more, and you felt yourself melting into your roommate’s arms. And that was when Seonghwa took control of the kiss, as his lips pressed hard against yours as you were almost gasping for air as he did so. You felt him smirk into the kiss, before his tongue swiped your bottom lip, and you allowed him to take more, feeling completely swept up in his actions, in Seonghwa himself.

You kept kissing him until he pulled away, and you found yourself almost out of breath as you stared up at him, while he smirked down at you. Your eyes were wide open and just starting to become the slightest bit glassy. You looked debauched and he loved it, he loved the way you looked at him, the way your clothes were just starting to look ruffled.

“Are you okay there doll?” He asked you, knowing full well that you were a bit lost for words, judging by your expression.

“Have you always kissed like that?” You asked him, catching him off guard, but he just chuckled and nodded, answering your question.

Instead of saying anything more, you just wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss, needing more from him, needing more of him. Your lips crashed together against him and it wasn’t long before Seonghwa once again took control of the kiss once again, as his hands wandered down your body and found your ass. You gasped into the kiss as he squeezed, your back arching and pushing you closer to him.

Seonghwa started walking you both back towards his bed as you kissed, sitting down and pulling you down onto his lap as your legs straddled it. You didn’t pull away from him despite the change in location, his lips having become addictive. It took Seonghwa pulling back for you to stop, and you whined as the kiss ended, desiring more.

“I don’t think I’m the pervert anymore, you’re even needier than I am, baby,” Seonghwa said, chuckling, “But I love seeing you like this. You’re so adorable like this, all needy for my kisses.”

You felt your cheeks flush and heat up, knowing that he wasn’t wrong. You had become needier for him, for his touch and kisses. You wanted more and as his hands squeezed your cheeks once again, you couldn’t do much more than whine and lightly grind down into his lap.

“Oh? Have I gotten you all riled up, darling?” Seonghwa said, already knowing the answer.

You hid your face in his chest, unable to respond, which only made Seonghwa smirk further, knowing he had succeeded in making you flustered. Well, more flustered than you had been prior. Your hands find purchase in his hair, lightly tugging on the strands. This prompts a moan from Seonghwa, as his eyes closed as you tugged on his hair once again.

“B-Baby,” he stuttered, “If you keep doing that, you won’t be leaving this bed for the rest of the day.”

You tugged at his hair one more time, harder than you had before, and his reaction is immediate. His head fell backwards as he groaned and ground up into you, before you suddenly found yourself looking up at him as he leaned over you as you laid on his bed.

His eyes were wide but filled with desire as he stared down at you. He spoke as his eyes connected with yours, “You asked for it now, baby. I hope you’re ready for the consequences.”

You didn’t have a moment to ponder what those consequences would be before his mouth was attached to your neck, sucking and biting on the skin. You felt him bite down hard enough to leave a hickey behind on your neck, right where you were the most sensitive. You moaned as he continued kissing your skin, before he pulled away so he could remove your top, leaving the top half of your body exposed. He sat up, laying on top of your hips as he stared down at you, taking in the sight of you on his bed.

“You’re so pretty, doll,” Seonghwa said, “I can’t wait to ruin you and make you even prettier.”

You looked up at him as he just continued to stare down at you, before you got impatient and reached for his arms, pulling him forward towards you. He almost fell right on top of you, quickly pulling his arms out of your hold to brace himself above you.

“Someone’s impatient, I see,” he mused, chuckling at your actions. You didn’t give him any response, frustrated with him taking his time now that you were topless. Your hands snaked their way into his hair once again, pulling on it and tilting his head back in the process.

Seonghwa was taken by surprise at your actions, and in a split-second decision where you decided to fuck it and take what you wanted from him, now that he had gotten you worked up, you pushed him off of you and onto his back next to you. You climbed into his lap, straddling his hips. As he stared up at you with a bit of shock in his eyes, you took advantage of his nearly naked state and left your own set of marks, starting at his neck and trailing down his collarbone to his chest. If he was going to play this game with you, you wouldn’t let him win easily. Or at all.

You looked up at him, finding his head tilted back as his eyes disappeared into his skull, and suddenly something snapped into place in you and you wanted to see him like this more. You wanted to get back at him for being such a pervert.

Your mouth wrapped around one of his nipples, softly sucking on it, your tongue swirling around the bud as the man squirmed underneath you, noises falling from his mouth as he was unable to stop them. This only spurred you on more, as your other hand came up to play and pinch his other nipple, while you bit down softly on the one you were teasing with your tongue.

“F-fucking hell doll,” Seonghwa panted, trying to catch his breath, “W-Where did this come from?” He asked, before groaning as you continued your actions.

You pulled away from his nipple, giving him a tiny break, “You took too long,” You said, like it was obvious.

Deciding to move on from torturing his nipples, you kissed and bit your way down his torso, as his hands found purchase in your hair, his grip not overly tight, but enough that it felt good, and pushed you to move further down his body. Once you reached his boxers, you looked up at him, seeing that he was watching you intently, though you could see that his eyes were dark with desire and need.

You only paused for a moment more before you moved to straddle his legs, as his hands moved away, so that you could remove his underwear. You hadn’t really paid attention to what his length looked like when you had barged in earlier, but now you realized that he was definitely larger than average. You were only pulled from your thoughts when Seonghwa chuckled, as you looked up at him.

“Does my size shock you baby?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, while you blushed and looked away from him.

“N-No,” you said, stuttering slightly.

He only laughed once again, finding your reaction adorable, and telling you as much. You pouted, but quickly found your composure again and wrapped a hand around Seonghwa’s cock, stroking it once as he groaned in response. You smirked at making him speechless with just one little action.

You continued stroking him from base to tip, changing up the speed ever so slightly to see what affects him the most. As you watched him slowly start to fall apart in front of you, you felt yourself start to become needy like you had been before. You ground your hips down onto his thighs as you stroked him, as Seonghwa started pleading with you, becoming overwhelmed as a result of everything going on, as well as the realization that he’d finally get to have you, that you were here and finally paying attention to him.

“Baby, please,” he pleaded, “I need more, need you.”

Whines were falling from his mouth as he continued to beg and plead, becoming more desperate as you purposefully slowed down the speed of your hand. You continued teasing him until you both couldn’t take it anymore. You were so aroused that you were constantly grinding down onto his thighs for stimulation, while Seonghwa’s eyes were filled with tears as he was reaching his limit.

You decided it was time to put him out of his misery, as well as some much needed release for yourself. You moved off of his legs, so you could pull off the rest of your clothing, leaving yourself entirely nude. You saw his eyes roam your body, and you felt the desire to ruin him as you took him in, his dick that was fully hard and straining, needing release, his pretty pink nipples hard and in need of more attention, and his expression. Oh, his expression was beautiful, his eyes filled with tears and looking at you, pleading for you to give him more pleasure, his bottom lip swollen and red from where he kept biting it, and his cheeks with a pretty blush across them, telling you just how affected he was by all of your actions.

You straddled his hips once again, bracing yourself against his abs as you lined yourself up with his cock. You slowly sunk down onto it, your eyes rolling back as you were filled with his length, the feeling better than any dildo or toy you had tried thus far. Both Seonghwa and you moaned as he bottomed out inside of you, the feeling intense for the two of you.

You adjusted to the feeling of him inside your hole, feeling more filled and satisfied than you could remember, and you wondered why it had taken so long for you to finally give in to your desires. Slowly, you rose back up, till only the tip of his length remained inside, before you sunk back down again.

You felt Seonghwa’s hands come up to rest on your hips, his grip tight but not tight enough to hurt you. His hands helped guide you as you rode him, as you braced yourself once again, with your hands on his abs. As you slowly bounced on his cock, watching the man underneath you losing himself in the pleasure, as you slowly felt that same lust consume you as well, as you leaned forward and connected your lips to his.

In between kisses, Seonghwa kept babbling about how good you feel around him, and how he’d imagined this moment, but this was so much better than he ever could have imagined. You giggled at him, finding him adorable but kissed him hard to shut him up, taking control of the kiss as you increased the pace, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. You swallowed any whines that escaped his mouth, before pulling away and pulling off of his length just before he was going to come.

“Why,” he whined at you, “Please please please, baby, let me cum please.”

Seonghwa kept pleading, but you only chuckled before lining yourself up and sinking back down on him at an excruciatingly slow pace. You wanted to hear him beg, it made you even hornier, as you looked down at him as he begged and pleaded with you while his large, pretty eyes filled with tears, and some had already made their way down his cheeks.

You reached down to cup his cheek as you started bouncing up and down on his length, smiling down at him. “You look so pretty like this, doll,” you said, placing emphasis on the pet name, as you saw his eyes roll back as the word rolled off your tongue.

You felt him thrust up into you, making you sink down fully on his cock and stop moving entirely. “Ah ah ah, no moving or I stop moving. Patience gets you much further than disobeying me,” you told him, feeling on a high as the combination of the feelings of lust and power push you to be bolder than you normally would be.

He immediately stilled, as a petulant whine left his mouth. You didn’t expect him to listen so well, but you wanted to see more of him like this. So obedient and a good boy for you. You rewarded him with starting to ride him once again, quickly setting a fast pace even as your thighs burned.

You felt yourself come closer to your own release as you rode him, squeezing and clenching down around his length as you slowly got closer to falling off that cliff into your own pleasure. You found yourself having to brace yourself even more against his torso as you chased your own orgasm, as Seonghwa whined and cried out as he was close to reaching his own.

You saw Seonghwa getting close, and in another power play, you dropped down once again, sitting fully on his dick. You saw tears fall down his cheeks as he was prevented from coming for a second time. You got unbelievably more aroused as you watched him cry, as you brought your hand to your clit, your thumb rubbing circles as you felt your high get closer and closer. You saw Seonghwa’s eyes widen as he watched you get off while sitting on his length, his eyes glassy with lust as he sat so close to the edge of pleasure.

“Gonna get off on your cock,” you said to him, moaning as he babbled and begged you to let him come, enjoying how much power you had over him in that moment.

You added just a tiny bit more pressure to your clit, needing just a bit more to push you over that edge. You clenched down around Seonghwa’s length as the pleasure of your orgasm rushed over you, keeping yourself upright only by your hand on his torso, as your pussy tried to milk him for his seed.

As you rode out your high, you keened in pleasure as wave after wave washed over you. Your eyes had rolled back so you were unable to see Seonghwa watching you intently, memorizing what exactly you looked like lost in the throes of your orgasm. Though just as you came out of the haze you had been in, you found yourself on the bed as Seonghwa snapped.

“It’s my turn to take what I want, doll,” he growled, pushing your legs up over his shoulders, “You made me wait, and I can’t wait anymore.”

You tried to retort, but as he started a brutal pace, chasing his own high now, you were unable to speak, only whines and moans coming out of you. His hands on either side of your body, gripping the sheets in a death grip. The sounds of skin slapping against skin was the only noise in the room, besides the grunts and moans coming out of both of you, as you found another release rapidly approaching while Seonghwa let out strings of curses, telling you that he was close as well.

You knew your bottom and thighs would be bruised in the morning with the force behind his thrusts, but in the moment, it felt so fucking amazing, and you wanted more of it. You were so close to the edge, and you just needed the slightest bit of stimulation before you would tumble over that edge. Seonghwa picked up on it, angling to hit that sweet spot inside as his fingers rubbed circles into your clit, pushing you right over the edge within seconds of him doing so.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as your second orgasm washed over you, your body tensing as you felt Seonghwa hit his high as his hips stuttered before his sperm filled you up, the sensation of which prolonged your own high. You whined at the feeling of being filled as the pleasure hitting you over and over again felt like it lasted forever.

“Fuck, baby,” Seonghwa said, his voice a little hoarse, “Your little pussy is really trying to milk me.”

You looked up at him with glassy eyes, still being lost in the haze of how good he had made you feel. He cooed at you, a slight smile on his face as he saw how fucked out you were as a result of him. He winced slightly as he slipped out of your hole, his length feeling very sensitive. He watched as his seed leaked out of you, and if he hadn’t been edged by you, the sight of it would have made him hard once more. It was such a pretty sight for him, as he imagined you sitting in class as his come leaked into your panties, as you tried not to let anyone know about your before class activities.

He shook those thoughts away temporarily, intent on returning to them later, as he left you in his bed while he ran to get a warm towel and wipes to clean you, wanting to make sure you were taken care of properly. He was very gentle with you as he wiped you down and cleaned you up, making sure you were as thoroughly clean as he could while you still laid in bed. You watched him perform this aftercare and smiled gently at him when he returned to you after putting everything away as sliding onto the bed next to you.

“Did you have a fun time doll, with your perverted roommate?” He asked you with a smirk on his face, to which you smacked his arm before turning away from him.

“Once a pervert, always a pervert,” you complained, ignoring him.

“But you finally paid attention to this pervert, so I got what I wanted baby,” he said to you, his arms coming to wrap around your body, pulling you close to him. You let him, content to stay in his arms for now.

“You wanted me to pay attention to you, all this time?” you asked, thinking he was being silly.

“That was all I wanted, doll. I just wanted your attention on me, and only me.”

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