#I know it'll come back eventually I know it will but. it just sucks right now

[freakwiththeknifecollection]

Don't get me wrong, I don't ever EVER wanna experience 2020 again, but sometimes I miss that summer on long drives with my mom listening to folklore, writing fic on my phone while I waited for her in the car

[loumauve]

.

[yougavememyopia]

Continuation of this. A bit suggestive at the end.

Loser yandere was on his knees, begging for forgiveness. He got ahead of himself. Sucking your fingers like a perverted freak. He looked up at you with glassy eyes, pouting just slightly. He didn't mind your pity. In fact, he wanted it. The worst he made himself look, the more you let things pass.

You sighed, ultimately having no choice but to forgive him. He looked so sad, so lonely. Like a stray puppy begging for attention. Why wouldn't you spare his feelings? He had no real friends. It made sense that he didn't know how to act properly.

Except he did. He was just manipulating you, saying the right things to make you cave and hang out with him. He would speak with a certain depressed tone that would melt your heart, and when you agreed, he would become extremely happy. Cheering and overreacting. A great excuse to excitedly hug you. Throw his arms around your shoulders and get lost in your scent.

He was strangely smart. Using both negative and positive reinforcement. Getting you to say yes to avoid making him sad, and making you feel content by his contagious smile. All part of his plan that'll eventually end with you two happily engaged.

Even if that strategy didn't work, he'd just whine and beg. He knew you couldn't take it. You would glare at him, and he'd feel a strange sensation through his body. Sometimes, he wondered how being hit by you would feel like. Or maybe with your hand wrapped around his throat.

Given how much he bothered you, it was a miracle you were still friends with him. It wasn't all that bad. You somehow had fun hanging around with him, laughing at his silly jokes. He'd take you to so many places. Always making sure you were enjoying your time so you'd come back for more!

When you weren't in public, he'd get clingy. It was obvious he was touch-starved and a big attention seeker. He wanted to have you touch him, get close to him, and pay attention to him. Only him.

"I can't get this stupid button undone... Can you help me take this shirt off? Come onnn, it's way too hot in this room..."

"Look how good I smell. Come on, sniff my neck. It's a new thing I bought. It smells like your favorite!"

"I'm so hungry, and my hands are all tired. Ughh.. Can you feed me a snack? I'll open my mouth wide for you. Aaah~"

He'd still bug you about the kiss. Not ever talking about the incident afterwards. Those few months of reinforcement should've made you softer to him. He should've been able to get you to agree. But you stayed determined to deny him.

"I want a kiss already... Why can't you, my bestest friend, show me how it feels~? All of these movies have one. I'm being reminded of how much of a loser I am every single day." He grumpily said to himself as you both watched a weird horror movie. The scared couple on the screen made out to relieve their stress... or something. It was a strange movie he (purposely) picked.

"Can't you fucking understand?! It'll change this whole relationship. I told you that a million times." You crossed your arms, darting your gaze from the movie to him.

He sighed. You sighed. Then you exchanged a look. "Alright. Fine. You're not gonna stop asking, are you? Just promise me you won't act all awkward after it."

He lit up, nodding eagerly. "Really?! Oh, wow! Thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou! You're the best! Seriously. A life saver~"

"Shut it." You groaned, watching the last bits of the movie with the characters escaping.

"Yes, ma'am. You got it." He climbed on your lap. That made you stiff a bit, looking at him with a confused look. He set his legs on your sides, his arms wrapping around your neck. "How is this gonna work? Can you please do it very slowly?"

"Eh...? Okay. Whenever you're ready." You wrapped your arm around his waist, not knowing what else to do with them. He hummed happily. His face came closer to you, and somehow, you felt nervous. You shrugged it off, letting him kiss you at his own pace.

"Here I go..." he whispered, his nose rubbing against yours.

He pressed a small peck on your lips as if to test out how it feels. Before you could correct him, he kissed you again. This time longer and harder. You squeaked at the suddenness, forced to lean back against the couch as he began to lick your lips, asking for entry.

You reluctantly opened your mouth, and he wasted no time. Pushing his tongue inside your mouth. Lapping at anything he could find. Your tongue brushed against each other, eliciting a moan from him. His hand held the back of your head to keep you from pulling away. Shifting a bit on your lap, whimpering against your lips.

He kept licking your tongue, sucking on it. He moaned again when you finally returned the kiss. His movements were clumsy, making it easier for you to take control. After a minute, he pulled away, panting as he buried his face into your neck. He seemed embarrassed, and so you hugged his waist tighter.

He moaned against your neck. "Ah.. that felt so nice. Mmh, shit..."

"Yeah... you got a little ahead of yourself, y'know. It was supposed to be a simple kiss. I never said tongue was allowed." You pointed out. Rolling your eyes, because you knew he didn't care.

"You never said it wasn't." He sat up to look you, tilting his head innocently. "I would've listened to you if you said it."

"No, you wouldn't have." You mumbled.

"You also didn't say I can't go for another one~!" He leaned in again and captured your lips in another kiss. You protested, hands gripping his shoulders now to push him away. He whined, sucking your lips as if that would change your mind. "But, please, just one more. I still haven't learned the proper technique yet."

You were beginning to understand that he had a different reason for overstepping boundaries. The way he kissed you, the way he tried to savor your taste, the way his pressed his body against yourself. It was like he was trying to devour you. Trying to be one with you.

He moaned loudly when he pulled away. His body was shaking a bit, his eyes dilating. Something pressed against your stomach. You didn't need to look down to see what it was. "Um... Oops?"

[kaira-diaries]

Backstabber:

Warning: (Smut)(Violence, death, blood)(sickness)

Word Count: 15k(i have nothing to say)

Pair:(Fem!xFrontman)

A/N: The length is a lot..idek. Anyway, this loosely follows season two and when I say loosely I mean LOOSELY.

I hope you all enjoy, happy reading!!

Summary: A young woman finds herself desperate when her family falls into crushing medical debt. Seeking a way out, she enters the deadly Squid Games. Unbeknownst to her, the enigmatic Frontman—her boyfriend of three years, disguising himself as Player 001 and in deep debt, enters the game to protect her, navigating the brutal competition while concealing his true identity from her.

Masterlist <-

________________

Aware of every breath and movement, you were pinned down as In-ho finally peeled away your warm sweater, a contrast to the frigid temperature in his bedroom, completely naked before him and he before you. However all you could feel was his soft lips against your chest, leaving you breathless as he pushed in and out of you with blinding pleasure and strength. His kisses were anything but gentle as you locked your legs around his muscled back, pulling him closer, and he groaned in delight at such a position, dragging his perfect teeth up your neck and eventually reconnecting with your mouth.

You'd been holding onto the weight of a conversation you needed to have with him, the one about your father's medical illness and the mounting medical debt that was dragging your parents under like a relentless tide. You've kept it from him for a while. Was it out of shame? You didn't quite know, but it didn't seem like the kind of conversation to strike up while his tongue worked between your legs, making a mess on the edge of the dining room table. He was on you the moment you got home and after the long day you had, you needed it.  

Freeing him from your grip, you pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, aching for control, something you've had to fight for with him the moment you began seeing each other. A look of disapproval shined in his eyes, but you pressed your palms against his warm chest, earning a scowl of impatience. You innocently smile, beginning to rock your hips. He held you, his grip like iron, as he watched you use him to reach your peak. With your head thrown back, his hands explored every inch of your chest; squeezing and grabbing at everything he possibly could. His grip on you was as tight as he could make it without hurting you, something he worries so much about. 

Mumbling sweet praises up at you, you whined, picking up the pace. 

"Fuck you're so beautiful riding my cock." He praised, almost making you shatter, and you would have right then and there until your phone began to buzz on the wooden nightstand next to his head. Your movements came to a sudden stop, making In-ho groan, "ignore it," he pleaded, but it was your mother's icon. 

With the weight of your father's illness in mind, you pulled off him. 

"It'll just take a second." You promised, answering the phone, trying to ignore the slow touch of In-ho's hand caressing your back and his lips sucking the skin of your neck. You slapped him. 

"Hi, everything okay? it's late."

Your mother's panicked voice crackled through the phone, her voice trembling with raw fear. "Y/n, you need to come to the hospital now. I-I don't-"

"Ma, I'll be there," you interrupted, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Just stay calm." You hung up without waiting for more, already throwing the blanket aside as you scrambled out of bed. 

"What going on? What's wrong?" In-ho's voice cut through the chaos, his concern evident as he sat up, his brows furrowed. 

Your mind raced, and the first excuse that came to you spilled out in a rush. "Something's wrong with the cat." You blurted, the lie feeling ridiculous even as you said it. Your shaky hands pulled on a sweater, jeans, and some boots, the urgency in your movements selling the story better than the words ever could. 

"What? the fucking cat? What happened?" In-ho looked confused but didn't question further as you fumbled to explain. "Their car's in the shop, and they can't get to the emergency vet. I have to go."

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the sheets pooling around his waist. "I'll take you." 

"No!" you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended. The tension in the room palpable as his eyes searched your face for an explanation. 

One thing about In-ho: he never questioned you, and right now, you were grateful for that. "Okay." He said. "Just be careful." 

You nodded quickly, not trusting yourself to say more. Grabbing your keys and bag, you bolted for the door, your thoughts racing faster than your feet. The hallway felt suffocating as you sprinted to your car, your breath coming in shallow bursts. 

Sliding into the driver's seat, your hands trembled as you turned the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life but didn't drown out the panic in your mind. What could have happened? Was it worse than you feared? 

The rain from earlier had left the streets slick, and your headlights reflected off the wet pavement as you sped toward the hospital. You tried to steady your breathing, gripping the wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white. Every red light felt like a personal attack, each second dragging on like an eternity. 

Finally, you pulled into the hospital parking lot, barely bothering to park straight as you threw the car into park and leaped out. The fluorescent lights of the emergency entrance cast an unnatural glow over the scene, and the antiseptic smell hit you as soon as you stepped inside. 

Your eyes darted around the waiting room until they landed on your mother. She was sitting in one of the plastic chairs, her face pale, her hands squeezing a tissue. 

"Mom!" you called out, rushing to her. She looked up, her eyes red and puffy, and the sight of her broke something inside. 

"Y/n..." she began, her voice trembling as fresh tears spilled over. "Its your father. They-they said he's in critical condition. The doctors are with him now, but-" Her voice cracked, and she covered her mouth, unable to finish. 

You crouched down in front of her, taking in her hands in yours. : Ma, I'm here. I'm here, okay? We'll get through through this." Your voice was firm, but your stomach churned with dread. 

As you comforted her, a nurse approached, asking if you were your father's family. You stood up, your thudding in your chest. "Yes, I'm his daughter. What's going on?" The nurse hesitated, her expression grave. "The doctor would like to speak with you. Please follow me."

Your mother let out a soft sob as you squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I'll be right back, Ma," you whispered before following the nurse down the cold, sterile hallway. Each step felt heavier than the last as you approached the room where your father's fate would be revealed. 

The nurse led you to a small consultation room, where a doctor in scrubs was waiting, his face lined with exhaustion. He stood as you entered, his expression grim but composed.

"It's good to meet you, I'm Dr. Patel," he said, gesturing for you to sit. You barely registered the gesture, standing frozen as your pulse thundered in your ears.

"What's wrong with my father?" you demanded, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep steady.

Dr. Patel exhaled softly, his shoulders sagging under the weight of what he was about to say. "Your father's condition has taken a critical turn. His heart is failing rapidly, and the medications we've been using to manage his symptoms are no longer enough. He's in cardiogenic shock."

You blinked, the words slow to register. "What does that mean? Can you fix it?"

The doctor's lips pressed into a thin line. "The only long-term solution is a heart transplant. Without it, I'm afraid he doesn't have much time—maybe days, a week at most."

The air seemed to vanish from the room. You shook your head, trying to process. "A transplant? How... how soon could he get one?"

Dr. Patel hesitated, his gaze softening. "It's complicated. He'll need to be placed on the transplant list, and even then, matching him with a donor can take time. There's also the matter of cost. Even with insurance, the out-of-pocket expenses can be significant."

Your stomach twisted into knots. "How significant?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Typically, upwards of $150,000 for surgery, post-op care, and medications," he replied gently.

Your heart sank. You felt like the floor had dropped out from under you. "I can't… we can't afford that. Even with insurance, we're already drowning in medical debt. How am I supposed to…" Your voice cracked, and tears spilled over despite your effort to hold them back.

Dr. Patel leaned forward, his voice kind but firm. "I know it's overwhelming, but there are programs and organizations that can help. I can connect you with our financial counselor to explore options. Right now, focus on being here for your father."

You nodded numbly, standing on unsteady legs. "Can I see him?"

"Of course. He's sedated, but you can sit with him."

The walk to your father's room felt surreal, the hospital corridors stretching endlessly. When you stepped inside, the sight of him hit you like a punch to the chest. He lay still, pale and fragile, tubes and monitors surrounding him. The steady beeping of the machines was the only sound in the room.

You moved to his bedside, taking his hand in yours. His skin was cold, and the weight of his hand in yours felt too light, too fragile.

"Hey, Dad," you said softly, your voice breaking. "It's me."

Your thumb traced over the back of his hand as you blinked away fresh tears. "They said you need a new heart," you whispered, choking on the words. "And I know you probably don't want me worrying about it, but I'm going to fix this. I swear I'll find the money, no matter what. I'll get you what you need."

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his temple. "You just hang on, okay? Just hang on."

The room was silent except for the rhythmic beeping of the monitors, but your resolve solidified with every passing second. No matter how impossible it seemed, you would find a way to save him. 

Whatever it took.

_______________________

Your hands were frigid, the cold from last night's visit at the hospital still clinging to you as you sat in the dimly lit coffee shop. The air smelled faintly of roasted coffee and winter rain, but none of it brought comfort. Across the small table, In-ho sat rigid, his shoulders drawn tight like a bowstring. His expression was a mask of unreadable calm, but his eyes—those lifeless, glassy eyes—made your stomach churn. There was no warmth in them, no spark of humanity like normal. Just emptiness. You swallowed hard, fighting the instinct to shiver under his gaze.

It happened every year around this time, right before his annual business trip. Yet somehow, it never got easier. That hollow, dead look in his eyes unsettled you more than you wanted to admit, leaving a weight on your chest like a stone sinking in water. He always returned, but the man who sat before you now was different—a stranger wearing the face of someone you loved.

Cupping your warm mug of coffee, you took a tentative sip, hoping the heat would chase away the chill that wasn't from the weather.

"How long will you be gone this time?" you asked, keeping your voice steady despite the unease bubbling under your skin.

"A week or so," he replied plainly, his tone deeper than usual and flat, devoid of emotion.

You nodded, forcing yourself not to press him further. He never shared much about these trips, and you'd learned to stop asking. But this—this lifeless version of him he always snaps into—terrified you in a way you could never quite explain.

He was scheduled to leave today after your coffee date, which explained the gel in his hair and the matching grey outfit he wore, fit for the cold weather. He looked good, but you adored his messy hair. You loved running your fingers through it during sex or washing it while in the shower. It was one of your favorite things about him, the second being his age. You were always into older guys. Despite being 25, men your age still had some maturing to do, so you decided never to dabble with them altogether. Time was precious. 

You traced the edge of your coffee cup with your finger, trying to fill the silence. It stretched thin between you, like a thread about to snap. 

"She's been calling me a lot lately." you said, attempting to steer the conversation toward something lighter. "Mina, I mean. She's gotten into some trouble again." 

In-ho's gaze shifted slightly, though his expression remained impassive. "Drinking?"

"And gambling, she's been asking for money," you added with a faint, humorless chuckle.

"Apparently, she lost a week's rent at that underground poker game she swore she'd never go back to."

His jaw tightened, just for a second quick. You almost missed it. "The one near the station, right? The one run by that man who drives the black sedan."

Your brow furrowed as you stared at him. "How did you know that?" In-ho's expression didn't waver. "You said she was into underground games," he replied, shrugging. "I've seen people like that around. They're dangerous."

The explanation was reasonable, and you opened your mouth to change the subject, but he checked his watch and stood. 

"I should get going," he said, his voice flat. 

You stood as well, the knot in your stomach tightening. "Be safe," you said softly. 

He nodded, leaning in to press a cool, detached kiss to your lips. It was brief, almost mechanical, and it left you feeling colder than before, but it was the same around this time every year. "I'll see you when I get back," he said, his hand briefly brushing your arm before he turned to leave. 

As you watched him walk out into the gray morning, your thoughts lingered on his odd familiarity with Mina's troubles. Something didn't add up, but the question lingered unspoken on your tongue, lost in the wake of his retreating figure.

The bitter dregs of your now-cold coffee lingered on your tongue as you forced down the last bites of a stale croissant, its once-flaky layers now reduced to a dense, chewy mass.

The contrast between this hurried breakfast and the elegant comfort of In-ho's apartment wasn't lost on you—each step toward the train platform felt like moving further from a dream back into your harsh reality.

The morning crowd jostled around you as you weaved between commuters, scanning for an empty seat while waiting. The number "150,000" pulsed in your mind like a neon sign, growing larger and more oppressive with each passing moment. It was a sum so vast it seemed almost abstract—like counting stars in the sky—yet the weight of its importance pressed down on your chest with very real pressure.

Finding an empty bench away from the crowd, you hugged yourself tightly, your fingers digging into the fabric of your jacket. The fluorescent station lights cast shallow shadows under your eyes, and you barely recognized the exhausted person staring back.

Your father's time was running out like sand in an hourglass, and here you sat, drowning in the knowledge that your family's existing debts were already a noose around your neck. Each potential solution you considered crumbled before it could fully form—loan sharks were out of the question, banks would laugh at your application, and friends... well, who among them could even spare a fraction of such an amount? Mina sure as hell couldn't.

It's then a well-groomed man sits beside you. His hair gelled back, similar to In-ho's. You felt his gaze on you, but you tried to ignore it until it became extremely uncomfortable.

Snapping your chin in his direction, you broke.

"What?"

"Hello ma'am, can I talk to you?"

You sighed as he continued.

"Listen, I want to let you in on a great opportunity." You stared down at your hands, not saying a word, when he opened a suitcase beside you.

Looking down at it, you find the game Ddakji next to three stacks of neatly piled money. You perked up a bit at that. The money wasn't enough to pay for the transplant, but it was a cushioned start.

"I'm sure you've played Ddakji before, right?" You nodded.

In-ho appreciated the game.

He held up the two squares, one red and one blue. "Play a few rounds with me. And each time you win, I'll pay you a 1,000. Each time I win you, you pay me the same amount." You bit your lip, feeling how stupid this was. In-ho would tell you to turn and walk away, and you wondered if this man was from that underground poker place Mina indulged in. But, stupid or not, you needed that money for your father.

Exhaling sharply, you agreed but warned the man.

"I don't have any money to spare." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't true either. You had a decent income, but all of your money either went to paying off your parent's medical debt or to your father's treatments when you were able to pay out of pocket.

He held that same creepy grin, "How about you use your body to pay." You froze, your heart pounding in your chest as the words hit you like a slap. What did that entail? A chill ran down your spine, the blood draining from your face as you felt your breath catch in your throat. For a moment, you felt yourself sliding toward the edge of the bench, your limbs numb with terror.

The man, noticing your reaction, quickly shook his hands. "Not like that, no. I'll take 100 off per each slap to the face."

If a slap was the price to pay for losing, then you would endure it. For your father. You clenched your fists tightly, the memory of his quiet suffering and his desperate need for help fueling the burning determination inside you. You would do anything to protect him, even if it meant bearing humiliation, pain, or worse.

Anything.

You stood from the bench with a sense of purpose, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The salesman rose with you, his smile still wide, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanor—something darker, more guarded—as you reached for your red ddakji. Without hesitation, you slammed it down onto the floor, the force of your movement sending it crashing against his, the paper flipping with a satisfying snap. You didn't just win; you dominated, the sound echoing in the still air.

A small wad of cash landed in your palm, the crisp bills a reminder of the stakes, the desperation that had brought you here. Your pulse quickened, the fear dissipating with each flip of the ddakji, each round stacking your winnings higher. The salesman's smile faltered, but you didn't care. You were in control now. The game was simple, but the stakes—your father's fate were anything but.

Round after round, you flipped his every time, effortlessly outplaying him, earning more money than you'd ever imagined in such a short span. The cash piled up between you like a small mountain, but you didn't stop. You couldn't stop. Each win felt like a victory but also like a countdown to something darker, something you weren't sure you were ready for.

Finally, you sat back down, your breathing steady as you finished the game. The salesman handed you a card, its front emblazoned with three distinct shapes, each one sharp and clean, almost menacing. You flipped it over, the number on the back staring up at you—simple, unremarkable, but somehow heavy.

"There are other games like this," he said, his voice dropping slightly as if the offer itself was something that shouldn't be spoken too loudly. "Where you can earn even more."

His gaze held yours for a beat too long. The words lingered, tempting and ominous in their simplicity.

"We don't have many spots left." He added, a subtle edge creeping into his voice as he picked up his briefcase, the leather creaking under his grip. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone with the card, the money, and the quiet hum of uncertainty settling in your chest.

________________

POV: In-Ho

You sat at your desk, the glass of imported whiskey sloshing as you threw back the fifth pour, barely noticing as the amber liquid burned down your throat. The decanter was nearing empty, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. The quiet hum of the room was the only sound, and it settled you in a way nothing else could. Leaving y/n had always been difficult, but that was part of the game, wasn't it? Every year, it was the same—her muted resistance to your sudden change in demeanor, but every year, you also found yourself relieved to return to control, to snap back into that power you craved at your fingertips, to something that mattered all the same. Here, you were just mechanical; any genuine feeling of devotion dwindled until you returned home to her.

You leaned back in your chair, the leather creaking under your weight. The time you spent with y/n—it was never enough. And the more you tried to balance it with the games, the more you realized how impossible it truly was.

It was easy to pawn off the useless responsibilities to an underling, to let someone else handle the messes or orders that were beneath you. You had never cared about choosing the players. It was a waste of time. They were all the same to you: pathetic, greedy souls who saw the world through a selfish lens of self-interest.

Getting a phone call, you grabbed the receiver.

"This is The FrontMan speaking. Yes, we are ready to begin."

You set the receiver back down, the soft click of the phone's cradle cutting through the heavy silence of the room. Without a second glance, you reached for the mask resting on the edge of the desk, its cool surface like a familiar presence. Your fingers brushed against the contours, feeling its weight and its unspoken authority. With deliberate ease, you secured it in place, the cold, smooth material pressing against your skin as your identity vanished beneath its form and lifted your hood.

You stood and moved toward the door, your footsteps controlled and purposeful. The air seemed to thicken around you as you passed through the threshold, a shift in atmosphere marking the change. The elevator was waiting—silent, steel, and patient. With a practiced motion, you pressed the central control room button, the elevator's quiet hum responding to your command. The walls around you seemed to close in as you descended. You were going to the heart of it all now, where the control pulse beat steady and unyielding. And there, you would resume your place.

The elevator doors slid open with a quiet, effortless motion, revealing the sterile, dimly lit expanse of the control room. Your men, standing at attention, parted like the Red Sea, clearing your path. They were all towering figures, silhouettes in the shadiness of the room, their presence unwavering and mute. As you stepped out onto the cold, polished floor, you felt the shift—the room realigning as though the game had officially begun.

You glanced at each man in turn, your eyes sharp, and you calculated behind the mask, assessing every one of them with practiced ease. They stood frozen, their posture rigid, hands at their sides, waiting for your next command. You could almost feel the anticipation in the air, stout and expectant.

"Let's start," you said, your voice cold, clipped and filtered. The words carved through the silence. Without hesitation, the men moved to their stations, their bodies sliding into their chairs with precise, mechanical ease. There was no wasted motion, no hesitation.

"Wake them up."

The room came alive, the screens flickering to life one by one. The quiet hum of machinery filled the air, a low, steady rhythm as the monitors illuminated, casting a cold glow on the walls. The lights in the player's quarters were activated, brightening the room as a spokesperson illustrated it was time to wake up.

You stalked closer to the screens, trying to get a sense of the new herd. Your gaze exhausts each face as they adjust, blinking groggily, some still lost in the fog of sleep. You monitored the strongest as they rose quicker, as the weakest fought off the remaining effects of the sedative.

Abruptly, it felt like the air had been punched out of your lungs, your heart plummeting into the pit of your stomach with a force that left you momentarily paralyzed. Your gaze locked onto the screen, catching something—someone—that sent a chill racing down your spine. At first, you thought it couldn't be real, that your mind was playing cruel tricks on you. But the unease clawed at you, refusing to be dismissed.

"Zoom in on player 150," you ordered sharply, your voice slicing through the tense silence in the room.

The screen obeyed, zooming in on the figure until every detail came into agonizing clarity. And then you saw her.

Your breath hitched. Her messy bedhead—the kind you used to tease her about—was unmistakable. She stretched her arms above her head, a familiar routine you'd witnessed countless mornings. Her flawless lips, her face, her eyes. Every inch of her was burned into your memory, and now, there she was.

Standing in the middle of your slaughterhouse.

The woman you've bared your soul to.

"Y/n," you whispered, your voice barely audible, strangled with disbelief and fear. Panic gnawed at your insides, twisting and tightening until it felt like your very core would shatter.

How had she ended up here?

What is she keeping from you?

Of all the people, of all the possibilities—why her?

___________________________

POV: Y/N

The first thing you noticed as you stirred was the faint hum of distant sounds. Your sense of hearing returned before anything else, pulling you from the haze of sleep. You groaned softly, rubbing your eyes as the world around you came into focus.

Fragments of memory surfaced, disjointed but vivid—the musty smell of the van, the creak of its rusted doors, the tattered upholstery that looked like it had seen far too many years. You had hesitated, your hand hovering over the handle, your instincts screaming at you to turn around and walk away. The vehicle was a wreck, the kind of thing you'd imagine a junkie—no offense—might live out of.

But then you thought of your father. His face, his struggle, the weight of it all. That single thought was enough to override your doubts. You had climbed into the van despite every instinct telling you to do otherwise.

Sitting up, you took in your unfamiliar surroundings, momentarily distracted by the nagging awareness of your terrible bedhead. In-ho always teased you about it, though deep down, you suspected he secretly liked it.

Swinging your legs over the edge of the cot, you paused as your fingers brushed against the fabric of what you were wearing. A pajama-like tracksuit, simple yet strange. Your gaze dropped to your chest, where a number—150—was neatly sewn over your left breast.

You frowned, your brows knitting together. "What the hell?" you whispered under your breath.

Looking around, the murmur of movement drew your attention. Other people—strangers—were stirring, dressed in identical tracksuits with different numbers stitched onto their chests. They began to gather hesitantly in the center of the vast room, their expressions mirroring your confusion and unease.

The room itself was massive, stark, and cold, resembling a warehouse stripped of purpose. Above you, suspended ominously from the ceiling, hung an enormous glass piggy bank—empty but somehow radiating a strange sense of suspicion.

Your muscles ached, a dull soreness settling into your body as you stretched your arms overhead, trying to shake off the lingering stiffness, and stood to join the pack of people. The air was heavy, thick with tension and the quiet rustle of fabric as the other players moved cautiously, their faces tight with uncertainty.

As you loosened up, your eyes flicked back to the piggy bank, unease pooling in your stomach. Whatever was happening here, it was far from ordinary—and the number stitched onto your chest felt like it was branding you into something you didn't yet understand.

“Y/n!”

The sound of your name rang out, cutting through the murmurs around you. Your head snapped up, scanning the sea of unfamiliar faces until your eyes locked onto someone you knew—a lifeline in the chaos.

"Oh my God, Y/n!"

It was Mina. Your Mina. Her face lit up with that unmistakable grin, even as the bold 067 stitched across her chest seemed wildly out of place. Relief flooded you, and without thinking, you bolted toward your best friend, your heart leaping in your chest.

"Mina!" you shouted, skidding to a stop just before throwing your arms around her neck. She caught you with a squeal, pulling you into a tight hug as you both burst into a flurry of half-laughs, half-cries.

"What the hell are you doing here, you bitch?" she blurted, pulling back just enough to hold your shoulders, her grin a mix of disbelief and sheer joy.

You laughed, shaking your head. "I could ask you the same thing!"

For a moment, the strangeness of the situation melted away. The towering walls, the eerie piggy bank above, the sea of strangers—all of it faded into the background. Because right now, in this surreal hell, you weren't alone.

Mina shrugged nonchalantly, her lips twitching into a crooked grin. "What can I say? It seems like my hobbies have gotten me into trouble again. Only this time..." She gestured vaguely to the massive, ominous piggy bank hanging above, her tone dripping with mock cheerfulness. "...the stakes are just a little higher."

Your brows furrowed, a sinking feeling settling in your chest. "Oh god, Mina. What did you do?"

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, biting her lip in that telltale way that meant she was about to drop a bombshell. "Well," she started, drawing out the word like she was recounting a funny anecdote, "I kind of... might've signed my physical rights away."

Your stomach flipped. "Excuse me?"

"Yup." She nodded, her voice light, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. "If I don't cough up what I owe by next month, I can kiss a kidney goodbye." She gave you a sly grin, trying to downplay the gravity of her words. "On the bright side, I've always wanted to know what it feels like to live with just one."

Your hand shot up to cover your mouth, your heart pounding in disbelief. "Mina...surely you're joking?"

She shook her head, the grin never entirely leaving her face. "Afraid not, babe. But hey, at least this mess has good storytelling potential, right?"

"Mina!" you exclaimed, punching her shoulder. She laughed, though it came out slightly strained. "What? It's not like I can do anything about it now. Besides, kidneys are overrated anyway."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Mina, could you please stop giving me reasons to worry?"

She gave you a sheepish grin, her shoulder bumping yours playfully. "I'll try, but no promises." Then, her expression shifted, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "What about you?" she asked, folding her arms. "Why are you here? And where's that delicious boyfriend of yours?"

Your cheeks warmed slightly, and before you could stop yourself, you swatted her arm, a soft snicker escaping. "He's on a business trip," you said, trying to sound casual. "Probably miles away from this place."

You turned your head toward her, but the knowing look in her eyes stopped you short. She tilted her chin, her gaze sharpening. "Uh-huh. But you didn't answer my other question."

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, the humor between you flickered, replaced by something heavier. Her gaze stayed steady, probing, as if she could see right through you.

A sharp, jarring buzz suddenly filled the air, slashing through the low murmurs in the room. You flinched at the sound, your heart skipping a beat as all heads turned toward the massive double doors at the far end of the room.

With a mechanical hiss, the doors slid open in perfect synchronization, revealing a line of figures that marched in with unnerving precision. They wore identical uniforms—a stark, unnatural shade of pink that contrasted sharply against the cold gray of the warehouse walls.

Their faces were entirely hidden behind black, featureless masks adorned with bold, white shapes: circles, triangles, and squares, just like the strange card you'd been handed by that man.

The sight sent a shiver racing down your spine. The guards moved with eerie coordination, their presence suffocating and cold, as if they were more machine than human. The room seemed to shrink under their gaze—or what you assumed was their gaze, though the masks gave away nothing.

"I'd like to extend my warmest welcome to you all."

"Everyone here will participate in six different games over the next six days. Those who win all six games will recieve a handsome cash prize." One of the guards stepped forward, his voice sharp and authoritative as it rang out, though it was muffled slightly by the mask. You strained to make out the words, but before you could process them, a man standing near the front of the group raised his voice, cutting through the tension.

"Why the hell should we trust you?" he shouted, his tone laced with anger and desperation. His words hit a chord, murmurs of agreement rippling through the players around you. It wasn't an unreasonable question—after all, you'd been drugged and dragged here against your will.

Your chest tightened as you remembered the van, the haze, the disorientation of waking up in this strange, sterile place. Beside you, Mina suddenly grabbed your hand, her fingers lacing tightly with yours. Her grip was firm, almost crushing, and when you glanced at her, her wide eyes told you she was just as terrified as you were.

The guard's reply came swift and clinical, delivered without an ounce of emotion. He mentioned something about a consent form, the words rolling off his tongue with practiced ease as though this wasn't the first time he'd said them. His tone made it clear there was no room for negotiation.

Your stomach churned as the players began to shuffle forward hesitantly, forming a disjointed line. Each person who stepped up was handed a pen and a sheet of paper, the details too far away to make out. The tension in the room was noticeable, every movement slow and deliberate, as if everyone knew they were crossing a threshold they could never return from.

When your turn came, you stepped forward on shaky legs, Mina's hand slipping from yours as she stayed rooted in place. You barely noticed her whispered "Y/n…" as you reached for the pen.

The words on the page blurred before your eyes. You couldn't bring yourself to read the fine print—it didn't matter. You already knew why you were here.

Your hand trembled slightly as you signed your name, the black ink cutting starkly against the crisp white paper. Whatever this was, whatever it demanded of you, your mind was made up. You'd get that money no matter what it took.

As you turned away, clutching the pen tightly, your heart felt like a drum pounding in your chest. Behind you, Mina's gaze burned into your back, her silence louder than any words she could've spoken.

As the last of the players signed their names, the guards gestured for everyone to move, their silent presence ushering the group out of the dorms and into a large, clean hall. The air was cool and clinical, the kind of atmosphere that sent a shiver up your spine despite the lack of overt threat.

One by one, each player stood in front of a sleek screen where their photo was taken. Mina, of course, couldn't resist making a ridiculous face, puffing out her cheeks and crossing her eyes as the camera clicked.

You doubled over, a genuine belly laugh escaping your lips, the sound echoing faintly in the vast hall. For a fleeting moment, it felt like old times, like the world wasn't crumbling around you.

As the line moved, you and Mina ended up side by side, trailing behind the group as you ascended a winding staircase. The metal stairs clanged beneath your feet, the sound rhythmic and oddly calming despite the tension in the air.

"So," Mina drawled, nudging your shoulder with hers, her grin mischievous. "Fill me in. How's it been going with In-ho?"

A warmth spread through you at the mention of his name, and you couldn't help the soft smile that tugged at your lips. "He's been… nothing short of extraordinary," you admitted, your voice almost wistful.

Mina hummed knowingly, her grin widening. "I see. And the sex?" she asked, her tone teasing as her brows waggled suggestively.

You groaned, rolling your eyes. "Ugh, Mina, quit being gross. Let's focus on the game ahead."

She threw her hands up in mock surrender, snickering. "Alright, alright. I'll save it for later," she said, her tone light but her eyes scanning the room ahead, where more guards waited in eerie silence.

As the two of you continued up the staircase, her humor lingered like a comforting presence, a small anchor in the chaos. You couldn't help but feel grateful for her, even if she drove you nuts.

Turning the final corner, you stepped into a vast, open space that made you stop in your tracks. The ground beneath your feet was soft sand, its golden grains warm as they shifted with each step. Overhead, artificial sunlight bore down with an intensity that made you squint, the air thick with the illusion of a desert afternoon.

“Wow,” Mina muttered, her tone a mix of awe and unease. She kicked at the sand lightly, watching it scatter. “This is… interesting.”

You nodded, your eyes scanning the expanse of the room. It felt surreal—like stepping into another world completely removed from the cold, metallic dorms. The space stretched endlessly in all directions, its vastness unsettling.

As you wandered further in, something across the way caught your eye. Narrowing your gaze, you nudged Mina in the arm, breaking her attention away from the boy she had been half-flirting with beside her.

“What?” she asked, frowning slightly.

“What’s that?” you said, pointing toward a shape in the distance.

Her eyes followed your arm, squinting against the glaring light. When she finally spotted it, her expression twisted into a mixture of curiosity and discomfort. “It looks like…” she hesitated, leaning in slightly, “a creepy doll.”

Your stomach churned as you took in the eerie figure. Even from a distance, something about it felt wrong.

Before you could respond, a sharp, mechanical crackle echoed through the air, making you flinch. A smooth, automated female voice spoke over the intercom, its tone disturbingly cheerful.

“Welcome to the game room. For your first game, you will be playing Red Light, Green Light.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Red Light, Green Light?” you muttered, glancing at Mina with an incredulous smile. “You’ve got to be kidding. A children’s game?”

Mina shrugged, her lips quirking into a half-smile. “What? Would you rather play chess?”

You snorted softly, shaking your head. “Definitely not.”

The voice on the intercom continued, reciting the rules with an unnerving precision that made the simplicity of the game feel sinister. “When the doll says, ‘Green Light,’ you may move forward. When the doll says, ‘Red Light,’ you must stop immediately. Any players caught moving during ‘Red Light’ will be eliminated.”

The word eliminated lingered in your mind, sending a cold chill down your spine.

When the announcement ended, a sudden, oppressive silence settled over the room. The guards lined the edges of the space, their presence a stark reminder that this was no ordinary game.

Mina reached for your hand, gripping it tightly. “We stick together, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, lacing your fingers with hers. Despite your nervousness, her touch grounded you, giving you a flicker of reassurance.

The two of you exchanged a nod, solidifying your pact, before turning your focus toward the looming doll in the distance. The game was about to begin, and there was no turning back now.

____________

POV: In-Ho

You could hardly bear to watch.

Your heart throbbed in your chest, a suffocating pressure building as your mind screamed with one agonizing question: What if she dies?

The thought hit you like a sucker punch, the weight of it crushing your ribs, stealing the air from your lungs. If she died—if she dies—you’d be left with nothing. Nothing but the hollow emptiness of a life that had lost its purpose, your balance between light and dark. There would be no going back. No reason to move forward. You'd be a shell, wandering through a world that suddenly felt unbearable.

The air in your quarters felt thick as if the very walls were closing in on you. You couldn’t stand still, couldn’t think clearly. You paced back and forth, each step fraying your nerves further. Your breath came in ragged gasps, shallow and fast, desperate for relief that never came.

You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t—

The glass in your hand was warm, the drink inside it burning your throat with its bitter sting. And without thinking, you hurled it across the room, the sharp crash of glass against the wall.

For a split second, you stood frozen, staring at the mess. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

Your chest tightened painfully, each breath harder to take than the last. You couldn’t control it anymore—the rage, the fear, the overwhelming helplessness. You wanted to roar and tear this facility to shreds, but it was all out of your hands now.

A player could only be removed from the game if they're eliminated.

The glass shards glittered on the floor like the pieces of your shattered resolve as you stared into it, and all you could do was stand there, trembling, fighting against the suffocating tide of emotions threatening to drown you.

"Green Light,"

Your eyes locked onto the screen, your gaze trained on her every move. You circled the couch, your steps restless, like you couldn’t stand still even if you wanted to. Every muscle in your body was tense beneath the grey jacket. Every fiber of your being was focused on her.

You could see Mina beside her, their hands tightly clasped together. It almost felt like an anchor, a momentary reassurance—but not enough.

Not nearly enough.

You silently begged Mina—pleaded with her—to hold it together. To not screw this up.

If Mina stuttered, if she moved a fraction too soon, if she hesitated for even a second—y/n would follow. And that thought made something tighten painfully in your chest.

You could feel your pulse roaring in your ears, a fierce rush of adrenaline as the seconds stretched on like hours. Your hand itched to pry her fingers away from Mina’s, to pull her closer, to shield her from the inescapable bloodbath.  

"Red Light."

You exhaled sharply, your body going rigid as you watched her, your heart skipping a beat. Her number hadn’t been called, but the terror that played across her face as she witnessed the eliminations around her carved a hollow, painful hole in your chest.

She stood there, frozen, her eyes wide with raw fear as bodies dropped one by one, their lives snuffed out in an instant.

The sound of each shot rang out like a death knell, each one making her flinch, the horror of it all consuming her.

The games were necessary, but you never wanted y/n within a mile of them, and she didn't deserve a spot. She didn't deserve this.

You couldn’t bear it as guilt flooded your head, asking yourself how you could let this happen. How you could be so oblivious. How you could be so careless.

Your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you rubbed your thumb over your lip, trying to steady your breath, but the panic was suffocating. She was scared, and you could see the paralyzing dread in her eyes as the remaining rounds went on.

Your torture had ended as she and Mina made it across safely, allowing your body to release tension.

Your mind raced, every thought swirling with desperation as you considered all the ways you could protect her. Every option seemed dangerous, every move a step closer to exposing yourself to her. Your fingers ran through your gelled hair, the tension in your shoulders mounting. You knew the truth—if she found out... It would destroy her.

And that was far worse than the lie you were living now.

Your gut clenched bitterly as the weight of the situation sank deeper into your chest. She’d never understand. She couldn’t. No matter how you tried to explain it, the truth would damage her. And you weren’t sure if either of you could survive the aftermath.

You sank into the loveseat, your eyes shifting to the mirror ahead of you. The reflection staring back was unrecognizable.

The image in the glass shattered every preconceived idea of who you were supposed to be in this place. The leader. The cold, calculating mastermind who pulled the strings from behind the scenes. The man who kept his emotions in check, who moved through the shadows without hesitation.

But now?

Now, you could feel the walls crumbling, the mask slipping off with each passing moment. The control you had so carefully cultivated was eroding, and it was because of her.

The realization hit you like a wrecking ball.

You were losing yourself to her—losing one of two things that had kept you alive this long. And the only reason you were willing to let it all slip was because of y/n. Because you didn’t want to watch her suffer, you didn’t want to see that terror in her eyes, knowing you're the cause.

A plan developed in your mind, sudden and dangerous. A twisted solution, but one that could save her.

You would have to enter the games.

For her.

And as the weight of that decision settled over you, you had an odd feeling that this was it. 

__________________

POV: Y/N

Your heart was in your throat, pounding so hard you thought it might burst.

Your legs gave out beneath you, trembling so violently that Mina had to grip your arm just to keep you upright. Her voice cracked as she shouted your name, her panic etching through the fog of your stunned silence. You couldn't move, couldn't breathe. You'd never seen someone die like that— so sudden, so violent. A clean shot, some might call it merciful. But there was nothing merciful about the way bodies crumpled to the ground, lifeless in an instant.

Now, back in the dorms, you leaned into Mina, your head heavy against her shoulder. Her breathing was ragged, her frame trembling beneath your touch, and for a moment, you felt like you were both about to shatter.

"So," Mina whispered, her voice raw and barely holding together. "If you lose the game..you die. The words hung in the air like a noose tightening around your neck. She tried to laugh, a sharp, bitter sound that made your stomach twist. "Quite the plot twist, huh?"

You jerked back, glaring at her through the blur of your tears. "Are you serious right now?"

"What else am I supposed to say?" She snapped, throwing up her hands. "We signed the damn contract, y/n. It's not like we didn't know there'd be consequences."

"Not like this," you muttered, your voice breaking as you clutched your knees.

Mina sighed, running a shaky hand through her hair. "What do you want me to say? Crying about it won't change anything. It won't bring those people back. It won't get us out of here."

Her words stung, sharp, and cruel, but you knew she was wrong. You bit down hard on your lip to keep from breaking apart completely. Crying wouldn't help. Begging wouldn't help. Whoever these people were, they weren't going to care about tears or fear. This wasn't just a game anymore—it was survival.

You sat silently next to Mina, absently picking at a loose thread on your shirt, your mind spinning in endless circles. The room felt suffocating with unspoken fear.

Then you hear it—a voice you hadn't heard in what felt like forever.

"Y/n?"

The whisper of your name cut through the haze. Your head snapped up, and your heart dropped into your stomach. Standing in front of you was In-ho.

For a moment, you thought your eyes were playing cruel tricks on you. He looked exactly as you remembered—same disheveled hair, same piercing eyes. But his expression...it was off. Shock, disbelief, maybe even a glint of betrayal flickered across his face.

Your body moved before you could think. You pulled away from Mina, stumbling to your feet. Your legs felt weak, your breaths shallow, and every nerve in your body screamed that this couldn't be real.

"In-ho?" you choked out, your voice trembling.

Without a word, he closed the distance between you and wrapped his arms around you. The hug was tight, almost desperate, as though he needed to hold you as much as you needed to be held. His scent hit you like a jolt—so familiar, so grounding. It shattered the doubts swirling in your mind.

You froze, your arms hanging limply at your sides as the weight of his embrace pressed into you. Was this real? Could it be him? Tears blurred your vision as you returned the hug, clutching him like he might disappear if you let go. A broken sob tore from your throat.

But even as relief coursed through you, a shadow of doubt lingered, clawing at the edges of your mind. What was he doing here? Why now? And why did it feel like something was wrong?

Pulling back, In-ho's hands gripped your face tightly, his fingers trembling with barely contained fury. His eyes burned into yours, raw and piercing.

"What the hell are you doing here, y/n?" he demanded, his voice low and rough.

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. The tears you thought had subsided returned in full force, choking you. He guided you to sit, his movements sharp and forceful, like he was holding himself back from shaking you for answers.

You gulped for air, your chest heaving as you forced the words out. "My father… he's sick."

The admission felt small, fragile, and yet it hit him like a hammer. He exhaled sharply, the sound heavy with disbelief and frustration. His gaze dropped to the floor, his jaw clenching so tightly you thought he might snap.

Behind you, Mina shifted uncomfortably, her presence a tense reminder of the world around you.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he finally said, his voice strained, the anger giving way to something else—hurt.

Before you could answer, he swiped a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the tears with surprising tenderness. The contrast was jarring, his touch soft against the intensity of his gaze.

"I didn't want you to worry," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

In-ho scoffed, pulling back as he ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "You didn't want me to worry?" he repeated bitterly. "Do you even realize—" He cut himself off, shaking his head.

But your own questions burned too hot to stay buried. You leaned forward, your voice trembling but steady enough to challenge him. "Why are you here, In-ho? Why did you lie to me?"

His head snapped up at your words, his expression hardening into something unreadable. For a moment, you thought he might not answer, that he'd leave you to drown in your doubts. The silence was deafening, the weight of everything unsaid threatening to crush you both.

"I'm here because I didn't have a choice, y/n," he said, his voice low and strained. "The company…I put everything into it. I thought I could make it work. I thought I could save it."

He swallowed hard, his eyes darting away from yours. "But the debt...it swallowed me whole."

Your stomach twisted, the air suddenly too heavy to breathe. "Debt?" you repeated, your voice shaking.

He nodded, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "It got bad—worse than I ever let on. Loans, investors, deadlines. I tried everything to fix it, but nothing worked."

Your eyes filled with sorrow as you reached for his hand, your fingers trembling slightly as they intertwined with his.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice breaking under the weight of everything.

He huffed softly, his lips pressing into a thin line. "For what? I got myself into this."

You shook your head, gripping his hand a little tighter. "For everything. For keeping secrets, for the company. For getting ourselves into this mess."

In-ho's eyes softened, his resolve cracking just enough to let you see the pain behind it. He scooted, his free hand lifting to cup your cheek. His touch was warm, steadying you in a way words couldn't.

"I swear to you," he said, his voice low but filled with determination, "I'll keep you safe during the games."

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as a tear slipped free, wetting his palm. For a moment, the chaos and fear melted away, leaving only the connection between you.

"Everything I do," he continued, his voice softer now, almost reverent, "will be for you."

Your breath caught in your throat—until Mina's voice cut through the air.

"Okay, lovebirds, hate to interrupt your heartfelt moment," she said, leaning on her elbows, "but we're still stuck in a life-or-death situation. Maybe save the romantic monologues for after we survive?"

In-ho's eyes darted up to Mina, his expression instantly shifting from tender to thoroughly exasperated.

"Mina," he said flatly, his tone carrying the weight of someone barely holding onto their patience.

She flashed a wide, overly fake smile, tilting her head like she was posing for a sitcom. "Been a long time, hasn't it?"

In-ho's jaw tightened as he let out a sharp breath through his nose. "Not long enough," he muttered under his breath.

Mina, unfazed, grinned wider. "Oh, come on, don't act like you're not happy to see me. I bring joy wherever I go."

In-ho shot her a deadpan look. "Joy, or chaos?"

"Tomato, to-mah-to," she quipped, shrugging.

You tried to stifle a laugh, which only made In-ho shoot you a betrayed look. "You're laughing? Really?"

Mina threw her arm around your shoulder, grinning smugly.

"See? I'm a gift."

____________________________

Meal time passed in a blur as you scarfed down a hard-boiled egg and a small cup of water. It wasn't much, but enough to stave off the gnawing hunger. In-ho, without hesitation, handed you his share, sliding the egg and water toward you with a sweet look in his eyes.

"You need it more than I do," he said simply, ignoring your protests. Mina, never one to let a moment pass with commentary, let out an exaggerated scoff, teasing In-ho and making her remark.

You shot her a glare, "Mina," you said with a sharp edge in your tone.

"Relax," she retorted, smirking as she propped her chin on her hand. "I'm just saying it's cute. Like a scene from a bad rom-com."

You placed a hand on In-ho's arm, silently urging him to let it go. Mina was a professional instigator, and her relentless jabs were as much a part of her personality as her quick wit. He huffed but turned his focus back to you, muttering something under his breath about how she'd been insufferable since the moment he met her.

Later, you lay curled up under the thin blanket on your assigned bed, its scratchy fabric doing little to shield you from the cold. The tension in the room felt slightly less suffocating with In-ho nearby. He'd managed to switch beds, though "convince" wasn't exactly the right word. You'd watched in uneasy silence as he cornered another player—a scrawny man with wide, fearful eyes—and murmured something low and dangerous. Whatever he said had sent the man scurrying away without a second thought.

You weren't sure how to feel about it. Grateful, maybe. Uneasy, definitely. But with In-ho so close, his steady breathing just within reach, you felt a rare sense of safety in a place where none should exist.

The stifling silence of the dorm settled over you as you tried to relax, but sleep remained evasive. The thin mattress beneath you felt harder with every passing moment, and a nagging pressure in your bladder made it impossible to find peace.

You sighed, rubbing your sweaty palms over your face before throwing the blanket off and slipping out of bed as quietly as you could. The cold floor sent a shiver through you as you tiptoed toward the heavy steel door.

With a hesitant knock, you waited, and after a moment, the small window slid open, revealing a pair of eyes behind an ominous black mask.

"I need to use the restroom, please," you whispered, your voice cracking slightly.

The guard's voice was mechanical and unyielding. "No one is permitted to leave during this hour."

You let out a frustrated sigh, shifting uncomfortably. "Please, it's an emergency."

The guard remained silent, and you opened your mouth to plead again when a voice from behind you called out.

"Let her out."

The command was sharp, cold, and filled with an authority that made the hairs on your neck stand on end. You froze, turning slightly to see In-ho standing a few steps away, his posture rigid and his eyes dark and unreadable.

The tone of his voice was unlike anything you'd ever heard from him before—calculated, commanding, almost chilling. It was the kind of voice that left no room for argument, and even the guard seemed to hesitate, the weight of the demand hanging in the air like a threat.

Your breath caught as the guard finally relented, sliding the door open with a reluctant nod towards In-ho. You glanced at him, his face shadowed by the dim light, and felt a strange mix of gratitude and unease settle in your chest.

The guard stepped aside, motioning for you to follow as the heavy steel door groaned open. You glanced back at In-ho, expecting him to stay behind, but he was already moving to fall into step beside you, his expression unreadable.

The cold air of the corridor hit you like a wall, sending a chill through your already tense frame. The guard's imposing presence loomed ahead, his boots echoing ominously against the concrete floor. You hesitated, then turned to In-ho, your voice low.

"You don't have to come with me, you know. I can take care of myself," you murmured your tone a mix of gratitude and concern.

His eyes flicked to yours briefly before scanning the dim hallway around you. The shadows seemed to shift and stretch with every step, making the atmosphere feel even heavier.

"I stay with you," he muttered, his voice quiet but firm, as though the walls themselves might be listening.

You noticed the way his shoulders remained taut, his movements calculated as if expecting danger at every corner. His eyes darted to the guard ahead, then back to you, and for a moment, you caught a glimpse of something deeper in his gaze.

He stayed close, his presence a shield against the unsettling stillness of the corridor.

Reaching the bathroom, you pushed the door open, feeling the cool air inside as it contrasted against the heat building in your chest. You stepped forward, but before you could make it inside, In-ho followed, his movements swift and deliberate. With a forceful push, he slammed the door shut behind him, trapping you between him and the wood.

You gasped, caught off guard by the sudden intensity of the situation. "What are you doing?" you started, but the words died in your throat.

In-ho didn't answer. Instead, he moved closer, his breath warm against your skin as he cupped your face with his hands. Before you could protest or fully understand what was happening, his lips crashed against yours, silencing everything around you.

For a moment, everything went still—your heartbeat, the weight of your breath, the tension in the air. Then, slowly, you let yourself sink into him, your body responding to his touch with a deep, aching need you hadn't even realized was there. You kissed him back with all the desperation and longing that had been building since the moment he left that coffee shop, your hands reaching up to pull him closer, craving the connection, the heat.

His lips were soft yet urgent, and the kiss deepened, a powerful force that seemed to push away everything else—the fear, the uncertainty, the danger. All that mattered in that moment was him and the way he made you feel safe. You hear the lock click, then feel the touch of In-ho's hand on your waist. You pull back, In-ho's lips working against your neck.

You chuckled, "We can't fuck in the bathroom," You choked as he bit your neck. "Says who?" he uttered against your skin. You smiled with a gasp, "The people that run this place." He only pulls you closer, scooping you into his arms. You look down at him, legs wrapped around his back, "don't worry about them."

Laying you gently on the nearest sink, you pulled him closer as he slid his hands under your shirt, cupping your breasts while sucking at your neck. You whined at the sensation, yanking his jacket and shirt off. You needed him.

Now.

"This is wrong," you arched into his touch as he squeezed. The thought of fucking in a place of death, a place of violence, chilled your spine.  

"Tell me to stop, then." He orders.

You couldn't find the words, thoughts drowned out by need—by desire, and you felt him smirk against your skin.

Reaching for the edges of your shirt, he lifted the fabric over your head, laying it behind you on the cold granite.

You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging at the silken strands as he groaned at the ache. You smiled, tugging his head back, attaching your lips and dragging your tongue to his jaw, his neck, his chest—anything and everything you could reach.

With one quick motion, he pulled you off the sink, turning you around and pushing you face-first into the sink. His palm held your head to the cool granite, keeping you in place. Your breath hitched as he pulled your pants down, taking your underwear with. His hands squeezed and grabbed at your ass before administering a sharp slap. You cried out as he leaned into your ear.

"You want me to fuck you?" You whined, your eyes closed, taking in the moment with him. "Fuck you so the guard outside knows who you belong to you?"

He tugged at his pants, removed them completely, and aligned himself to you. He pushed into you with a force that knocked the air from your lungs.  

Your neck was pulled at such an angle that you could see yourself in the mirror—cheeks red, lips puffy, and mouth agape as In-ho was mercilessly fucking you. Your hips ached from the force of hitting the counter, making you shriek. He groaned, "I missed you," he leaned forward again, and you grabbed at his neck behind you, pulling him closer.

You whined, "I-I think—" he grabbed at your jaw, "cum for me," he demanded, forcing your climax to shatter through you. Biting at your shoulder, he fucked you through it, reaching his peak a moment later.

As he slowed, he kept himself right where he was, wrapping his arms around your front and offering a sweet kiss to your cheek.

"That was fun, but I really need to pee." You whispered.

Sitting up slowly, you watched as In-ho moved around the small bathroom, his movements almost automated as he dressed. The sound of fabric rustling filled the silence, but inside, you felt anything but calm. A wave of guilt, heavy and suffocating, crashed over you, the weight of it pressing down on your chest.

What had you just done?

You both had fucked like everything was fine, like you were on some sort of carefree vacation, lost in the moment. But this wasn't a vacation. This wasn't a time for pleasure or escape. People were dying here—people you didn't know, people you'd likely never see again. And yet, you had let yourself indulge in something as fleeting and intimate as this as if nothing mattered. As if you were safe.

The realization hit you with sharp clarity. You were not safe.

You stood quickly, your hands shaking as you hurriedly slipped your shirt and pants back on. The fabric felt tight and foreign against your skin, as if you were suddenly aware of the gravity of every movement, every breath.

You glanced over at In-ho, who had stopped midway through shrugging into his jacket, his eyes narrowing slightly as he caught the change in your demeanor. His gaze softened, but the concern in his eyes only made the guilt in your stomach churn harder.

_______________

The next game arrived faster than you had anticipated, and the tension in your chest only deepened as you prepared yourself for whatever twisted challenge awaited. You instinctively attached yourself to In-ho, walking shoulder to shoulder with him, Mina's hand securely in yours. The three of you were a united front, or at least you tried to be. In-ho, however, refused to acknowledge it, his disdain for Mina simmering just beneath the surface, his gaze sharp and focused as he kept a distance between them.

Entering the game room, your breath caught at the sight before you: a massive merry-go-round, the painted horses eerily still, surrounded by a strange sense of foreboding. You couldn't help but glance around, trying to make sense of it all.

"Any ideas yet?" you asked Mina, but before she could respond, In-ho cut in with an air of certainty.

"Mingle," he said simply.

You turned toward him, a flicker of surprise in your eyes. "How are you so sure?"

Mina's brow furrowed with suspicion, matching your confused look as she eyed him closely. In-ho gave you both a quick glance before answering with a confidence that made your skin crawl.

"The rooms, the platform. It's obvious."

Without another word, he walked ahead, leaving you and Mina in his wake. Mina leaned in closer, her voice low, filled with an edge of concern.

"Don't you think he's guessing a little...too well?"

You pushed her lightly, a knot forming in your stomach as you caught onto the insinuation.

"Don't be silly. We don't even know if he's right."

But Mina wasn't letting it go. She grabbed your shoulders firmly, her eyes crinkling with worry, her voice taking on a more urgent tone.

"I'm saying this as your bestest friend, y/n," she insisted, her gaze locking onto yours, "but something feels off." Her grip tightened, and you felt the weight of her words settle in your chest.

Her voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible, as she leaned closer.

"I've been watching him. I've caught this look in his eye—this calculated look—and it's just giving me this god-awful feeling. The way he threatened that older man, how quickly he figured things out... doesn't it make you wonder why he just randomly appeared after the first game?"

You could feel your heartbeat quicken, the creeping unease crawling up your spine. Mina wasn't the type to stir the pot without reason, and her concern was palpable, making your own doubts resurface. You hadn't noticed it before, but now—he was different. His reactions, his confidence—it all seemed a little too... precise. Too perfect. Not to mention the guard shrinking from his demand.

You swallowed hard, trying to push the rising fear down. "Mina... you're overthinking it."

But the doubt gnawed at you, and the unease in your gut only grew heavier.

"Maybe I am," Mina said, her voice filled with uncertainty but still holding a note of conviction.

She paused, then added, "Just listen for the announcement. If he's wrong, you can spend the rest of our lives rubbing it in."

She gave a slight, teasing snicker, her smile a little more strained now, as if trying to lighten the growing tension.

"Just don't die on me and ruin the moment," she added, the last part almost playful, but there was an underlying concern in her voice.

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound coming out a little too nervous to be genuine, but you couldn't help it. "Oh, don't worry," you said, forcing a grin as you nudged her shoulder. "I'm definitely going to outlive you."

Mina's arm swung around your shoulders, pulling you in tight for a brief, tight hug. Her grip was almost protective, and you could feel her warmth seep through your clothes, an odd comfort in a place like this.

"If you do outlive me," she muttered into your ear, "just promise me you'll still remember who had your back when no one else did."

Her words were light, but you knew she meant them as the two of you stepped on the platform next to In-ho.

The familiar woman's voice echoed, but it felt distant like you were hearing it through a thick fog, muffled and hollow.

"Players, welcome to the second game."

A chill ran down your spine.

"For your next game, you will be playing Mingle.”

Your heart stopped.

No, it couldn't be. Not this. The ground beneath you seemed to tilt, and for a moment, everything went still. Your body felt weightless, detached from the reality around you. The world felt like it was spinning, but you were anchored somewhere far away, watching yourself as if from a distance.

You glanced at Mina, your hand trembling in hers as your gaze locked onto hers, the panic written all over your face mirrored in hers. The sound of the woman's voice faded into static, her words becoming unintelligible as your hearing seemed to dull, the world slipping further from your grasp.

You squeezed Mina's hand with a strength you didn't know you had, but the pressure in your chest only tightened. Her expression softened into something akin to sorrow, the pity in her eyes somehow making everything worse. It was as if she could feel what you were experiencing—the crushing weight of the game's announcement.

Too afraid to look at In-ho, you kept your eyes fixed on Mina, clinging to her as if she could pull you back from the edge as if she could stop everything from falling apart. But the feeling—the sense of drowning in your own mind—was overwhelming, suffocating. The fear clawed at you, and you couldn't stop it, couldn't stop the sense of losing yourself in the chaos of it all.

It was like the world was rushing forward, and you were stuck, frozen in place, unable to breathe.

It was as if everything fell into place in that moment, the pieces of the puzzle clicking together with a sickening clarity. The rush of realization hit you all at once, and it was like a weight was crushing your chest.

You thought back to the things he'd said, the things he'd done—each one a thread leading you to this horrifying truth. The way he'd spoken to you at the coffee shop, so calm and calculated, the same cold detachment in his voice now. That look in his eyes—it wasn't just about the game, wasn't just about survival. It was something darker.

He knew exactly where Mina was losing her money. He knew, and he didn't care. And that violent threat he made to that man—it wasn't a slip of anger, wasn't a moment of desperation. It was deliberate. Purposeful. The guard, too, obeying him without question—it wasn't just chance.

"Don't worry about them," he had said in the bathroom. And now, the words echoed in your mind, twisted with new meaning, the lie hanging heavy between you.

You turned to him slowly in that instant, your heart hammering in your chest. The betrayal was like a sharp knife, cutting deeper with every passing second. His cold countenance met your gaze, and in that moment, it all became painfully clear. His indifference to everything, to everyone around him—it wasn't survival for him.

It wasn't coincidence. It wasn't a fluke. It was him.

You looked down and off in the distance.

The games — It was him.

Mina's grip tightened around your hand, pulling you forward off the platform in a blur. You hadn't even realized the game had started—your mind was still reeling, the weight of the revelation suffocating your thoughts. The number 2 echoed in the air, and the pressure of the game became all too real.

Before you could even process what was happening, a sudden force yanked you back, your arm jerking as a strong hand latched onto you. You were pulled against a hard, familiar chest, and you barely had time to breathe before you recognized the feeling—the cold, unyielding presence of In-ho.

A jolt of panic shot through you, but Mina wasn't letting you go that easily. She struggled to break free, her hand reaching for yours, fighting with everything she had to drag you away from him. But it was no use, as a passerby knocked her down with a strong force.

In-ho was swift, dragging you toward the nearest room without hesitation, his grip firm on your arm. The sound of footsteps echoed in the hall, but before you could even register the danger, a man appeared from the shadows, lunging forward and knocking you to the ground.

Twenty seconds

The urgency of the countdown pulsed in the air. In-ho reacted in an instant, grabbing the man by the shoulders and slamming him back.

"Get in! Go!" he barked, his voice cutting through the chaos.

You didn't need to be told twice. Fear surged through your body, and you bolted for the room, throwing yourself inside. But as the door slammed behind you, your heart sank—there was already someone in the room. The man's partner, standing tall, blocking the way.

In-ho was hot on your heels, entering just a moment later. His eyes immediately locked onto the intruder.

"Out," he commanded coldly, his voice carrying authority. But the man stood his ground, refusing to move.

Ten Seconds

In-ho didn't hesitate. He circled around the man with lightning speed, his movements precise and calculated. Before the man could react, In-ho had him in a chokehold, his grip unyielding.

The room felt smaller, the air thicker, as your pulse raced in your throat. Terrified, you backed against the wall, eyes wide with panic. You could feel the countdown in your chest, each second more suffocating than the last.

5...4...3...2...1

A sharp, sickening crack split the silence, and the man's body went limp in In-ho's arms, his life snuffed out in an instant. The room seemed to freeze, and for a moment, all you could hear was the ringing in your ears.

You slid down the wall in a daze, your breath shallow as you pressed your hand to your mouth, trying to stifle the shock and nausea threatening to overwhelm you. You couldn’t look away from the lifeless form, the reality of what had just happened sinking in, making your head spin.

Mina.

You jumped to your feet, looking out the small window of the room.

You couldn't find her.

That was a good thing, right?

Remaining in the room, that same woman's voice spoke over the loudspeaker.

"The following players have been eliminated."

"Player 022, 120, 207..."

You tried to block out the sound of the numbers, each one echoing in your mind like a drumbeat, relentless and deafening. But then, the one number you’d been desperately praying would never come—the one you feared more than any other—was announced.

"Player 067, eliminated."

The words felt like a physical blow, crashing into you with an intensity that took your breath away. A cold, sinking feeling spread through your chest as reality shattered. The world blurred around you, the weight of the announcement pressing down on your entire being, suffocating you.

You screamed, the sound raw and desperate, a cry that seemed to tear from your very soul. You screamed until your throat burned, until the pain in your chest was too much to bear, until everything in your vision distorted in the haze of shock and grief.

And then, cold hands gripped your shoulders—too cold, too steady. In-ho pulled you, almost as if he were dragging you into the abyss with them. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t think. All that remained was the sound of your own voice breaking, the empty, hollow realization that you’d lost someone you couldn’t afford to lose in this hellish place.

His hands guided you down to the floor, but your legs refused to hold you. You crumpled, your body trembling violently as the weight of the loss crushed you.

There was nothing but the scream in your throat and the terrible, empty silence that followed the words you could never unhear.

____________________________________

You didn’t remember slipping into unconsciousness, but in that moment, it felt like a mercy—an escape from the crushing weight of reality.

When you awoke, everything felt distant, foreign, like you had been transported to a place where nothing mattered anymore. The world around you was different, but you barely registered it, your mind too numb to care.

In-ho stood in front of you, his presence as suffocating as the silence that hung between you. His eyes bore into yours, but yours were hollow, glassy, stripped of the light they once had.

"Drink this," he murmured, extending an undersized glass of liquor. His voice was steady, yet cold, as if rehearsed. You took the glass with trembling hands but not to drink. With a sharp motion, you hurled it across the room. The glass shattered against the wall, fragments raining down like jagged tears.

"You're despicable," you spat, the words seething with venom. His face barely flinched, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of something-pain? Regret? It didn't matter.

"You were never meant to be involved, y/n. If you would have just come to me about your troubles this wouldn't have happened."

You scoffed, your lip curling in contempt. "Oh, and everything would have been perfect, wouldn't it? You jetting off on your little 'business trips,' murdering people, while I stayed home like some clueless fool, keeping your bed warm and smiling like an idiot. Is that how you imagined it?" 

Your voice wavered, thick with bitterness, as tears burned your cheeks.

"How..how could you do it?" He circled you, slow and deliberate, like a predator cornering prey. He sank into the loveseat behind you with an air of calculated calm, gesturing for you to sit. His hand barely moved, a silent command. You didn't budge.

He sighed, "I'm doing this for us, for you. Don't you see? The people chosen for the game are parasites—leeches consumed by greed and selfishness. They deserve to be eliminated from existence. Whether they're crushed in the process or crawl away with their filthy riches, it doesn't matter. Either way, they're removed from our world."

Your breath caught in your throat, the words slicing through you like a jagged blade. For a moment, you couldn't speak, couldn't even think. His voice, so calm, so calculating, made your skin crawl.

"For us?" you finally choked out, your voice trembling, caught between disbelief and anguish.

 "How can you even say that?"

He didn't flinch, didn't waver, his eyes cold and distant. But you? You were unraveling. Your chest heaved as if trying to contain the storm brewing inside you.

"People? Parasites? Is that what you think they are? Is that what you thought Mina was? Is that why you had her killed?

"Is that what you think I am?" The words came out sharp, but your voice cracked under the weight of your emotions.

That seemed to get to him. He rose from his seat with slow, deliberate movements, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You?" he said, his voice softer now but no less chilling. "You're not like them."

He began walking toward you, his steps measured, almost cautious, like he was approaching a cornered animal.

"You're not here for your own gain, not for greed or selfish desires. You're here for your father, fighting to save him. That’s why I-I” He started, but you scoffed cutting him off.

But as he drew closer, you instinctively stepped back, your feet moving before your mind could catch up. A cold rush of fear swept over you. You'd never been afraid of him before, but now? Now, you couldn't trust what he was capable of.

"In-ho... don't," you whispered, your voice shaking.

He froze mid-step, his hand half-raised toward you, his brows knitting together. "Don't do that," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "Don't back away from me. Please, don't... don't be afraid of me."

Your heart clenched, but his words didn't bring comfort. They only deepened the chasm between you.

How could this be the same man who once made you laugh until your sides hurt? Who wiped your tears with such tenderness that you thought your heart might burst from the love you felt for him? Memories surged through you—the quiet mornings, the stolen smiles, the promises whispered in the dark. You thought of every moment you had shared, the man you believed in, the man you loved with everything you had.

And now, here he was—a stranger standing before you, cloaked in the shadow of someone you used to know.

"How can I not be afraid?" You whispered, your voice barely audible. You felt the knife twist in your back. Your eyes dropped to the crimson spreading across your clothes, the sheer volume of people's blood making your stomach churn. You trembled uncontrollably, paralyzed by shock and disbelief. Through your haze of agony, you caught In-ho's gaze. His expression was a storm of guilt and regret, but it only deepened your devastation as you crumbled before him.

Finally, your voice cracked again. "I…I need space."

His expression faltered, pain flashing across his face. "Space?"

You nodded, wiping your tear-streaked face with trembling hands. "I can't… I need to think. Please."

He hesitated, then nodded slowly, though his posture screamed reluctance. "You can take the spare bedroom," he said softly. "Down the hall, second door on the left."

Without another word, you turned and walked away, your legs heavy and unsteady beneath you. When you reached the room, you stepped inside and slammed the door shut, locking it before leaning back against it. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your mind racing.

After a moment, you crossed the room, grabbing fresh towels from the small cabinet. You needed to wash it all away—the day, the deaths, the violence. Everything.

The bathroom was dimly lit, the only sound the steady rush of warm water from the shower. You stepped inside, sinking down onto the cold tile floor as the water poured over you, mixing with your tears.

Your mind raced, flashing back to the chaos of the day—the screams, the blood, the merciless decisions. And at the center of it all, the one pulling the strings was him. In-ho.

But then, as much as you wanted to hate him, memories of the past three years flooded your mind. His laughter that lit up even your darkest days. The way he'd hold you, whispering that everything would be okay. The small, thoughtful gestures that made you feel so loved. The way he'd make love.

You buried your face in your hands, the water soaking through your hair and down your bare skin. You still loved him. Even after everything, your heart ached for him.

But how could you reconcile the man who once made your world brighter with the man you'd seen today? The man who was capable of orchestrating so much death and pain?

Your shoulders shook as sobs wracked your body. You didn't know what to do. You didn't know if you could forgive him or if you could ever look at him the same way again.

And yet, even in the depths of your confusion and heartbreak, one thing was painfully clear—you still loved him, but you're not even sure he existed anymore.

__________________

It had been two weeks, two long weeks of isolation. You barely left your room, only emerging when absolutely necessary —for food or the fleeting desire for a change in scenery. In-ho had tried, time and time again, to draw you out of your silence, but every time he spoke, every time his eyes met yours, you couldn't even bring yourself to acknowledge him. The pain was still too raw.

Now, standing in front of the mirror, brushing your damp hair, you let the motions soothe you for a moment. The simple act of taking care of yourself felt almost comforting. But then a knock at the door broke through the quiet.

You approached cautiously, heart beating faster as you turned the knob, only to find In-ho standing there. He said nothing at first, just looked at you, his expression unreadable.

"I want to show you something," he said, his voice low.

You hesitated, shaking your head, instinctively wanting to retreat back into the safety of your room. But his next words made you pause, the sincerity in his eyes pulling at something deep inside of you.

"Please."

It was a simple plea, but it held something genuine—something that made you want to trust him, just for a moment. You sighed, giving in, and followed him down the hall to his office.

The space was quiet and orderly as always. In-ho circled around his desk and sat down, and you stood, hugging your arms tightly to yourself, feeling the chill of the room. He beckoned you over, and you approached, curiosity and apprehension warring in your chest.

He opened a file on his computer, and as the video began to play, your eyes scanned the screen. You recognized the area instantly—it was right outside the city hospital, a place so familiar to you.

And then, you saw him. Your father, sitting in a wheelchair. Beside him, your mother. And the woman next to them…

Mina.

Your heart leaped in your chest, the tears welling up in your eyes as the weight of the moment crashed down on you.

You blinked, trying to steady yourself as you turned to In-ho, your voice shaky. "How..."

He looked back at you, his tone softer than you expected. "Mina was removed from the games. Her death was faked." He turned the screen toward you, showing more of the footage. "As for your father, I made sure the necessary funds were sent and lined him up with a donor."

A sense of relief flooded through you like a tidal wave. You didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but one thing was clear—everything was going to be okay.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you could breathe again. The people you cared about were safe. Your father was getting the help he needed, and Mina—Mina was alive.

Tears streamed down your face, but they were no longer tears of grief. They were tears of release, of a weight finally lifted.

In-ho's gaze met yours, his eyes unwavering as he reached out to take your hands gently in his. His touch was warm, grounding, as if he was trying to reassure you, to remind you that you were no longer alone in this.

"I swore to you," he said, his voice low and steady, "that everything I did, every decision, every action—it would be for you."

You slid into his lap, your knees trembling as you took his face in your hands, wiping away the stray tear that escaped down his cheek. His skin felt warm against your palms, a comfort you had clung to so many times before, but now it only reminded you of how much had changed—how far apart the two of you had drifted.

"All these years," you began, your voice breaking as tears welled in your eyes, "all I've known is what you've allowed me to know. Half of who you are. And I loved that half—I loved it with everything in me." Your voice faltered, but you forced yourself to continue, your fingers trembling as they traced the curve of his jaw. "But this," you said, gesturing to the cold, sterile facility surrounding you, "this is something I can't forgive. These people… they're not parasites or leeches. They're human beings, In-ho. Human beings who were dealt a bad hand. And you've turned their suffering into a game."

His brows furrowed, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, but he said nothing. You could see it—the war raging in his mind, the guilt and conflict he was too proud to admit. You leaned in closer, your forehead almost touching his as you whispered, your voice trembling, "I'm going to give you a choice."

His hands slid up your waist instinctively, as if trying to anchor himself to you, trying to hold on to the one thing he couldn't bear to lose. You felt his grip tighten, desperate, but you pressed on, your words cutting through the silence.

"Come home with me," you said, your voice cracking with emotion. "Leave this all behind and we can reset. Walk away from this nightmare, because if you don't…" Your breath caught as tears spilled freely down your cheeks. "If you don't, In-ho, you will never see me again."

His eyes widened, a flicker of pain flashing across his face as he processed your words. You saw the gears turning in his mind, the walls he had built around himself crumbling under the weight of your ultimatum. His grip on you faltered, his hands trembling as he clung to you like a lifeline.

"In-ho," you whispered, your voice barely audible, "please. I can't save you from this. You have to save yourself."

For a long, agonizing moment, he said nothing, his silence filling the room like a deafening roar. And as you stared into his eyes, searching for the man you had loved for so long, you realized this moment would either be the beginning of something new—or the end of everything.

[parkerluvsu]

day 16: 69 <3

"i feel bad"

you look up from your spot on the floor, unceremoniously removing arts dick from your mouth. "what?" you're confused, this situation far removed from how art usually is during blowjobs, all drooly and blabbery. "i- it's unfair isn't it?" art is obviously still stuck in the clouds, but he's trying his best to make you understand. "what's unfair?" when art is in this headspace, it's best to ask simple questions. "well.. you're making me feel really good.." you nod and encourage him to keep speaking, "but im not making you feel good right now.. isn't that unfair?"

you smile, comforted by the fact that art is so predictable in his kindness. "maybe by your standards it is.. but you know that making you feel good makes me feel good art" he pouts at your response, not really believing you. "really..? i just wish there was a way i could make you feel good at the same time.." art sighs. you would think he's being sarcastic if you didn't know that art genuinely doesn't know a lot about sex. "there is actually.. if you wanted to try it?" art blushes, nodding his head. he's always happy to learn from you about anything, but especially about sex.

you smile, and crawl up onto the bed with him. "okay.. it might seem a little awkward at first but you should trust me, it'll feel good alright?" art nods along with your words, letting you brush his hair out his eyes. "okay, just lay down.. put your head on the pillow.." he follows your orders, his dick slapping his stomach as he moves. "alright, so it's just gonna feel like im sitting on your face.." art grins at that "but im gonna be facing your dick.. and then, you know, you'll be able to eat me out at the same time that ill be able to suck you off" you say lightly, knowing that you may be a little nervous, but you want to be confident for art.

he nods, looking up at you with blue doe eyes that make you melt every time. you move across the sheets and turn your body away from him to hover your pussy over his face, leaning forward to lick a stripe up his dick. art shivers and moans, his hands coming up to grasp at your ass, spreading the soft skin open for him. you almost choke against him at the feeling, unable to stop yourself from basically riding arts face. art doesn't mind though, from his satisfied moans and hums into you it sounds like he would like nothing more but to drown in the holy water between your thighs.

arts legs quickly come to rest next to your face, his lean thighs forcing you to stay on his dick. you try your best to not gag around art, but the way his dick curves upwards in your throat makes it hard. not like arts complaining though, being a little sadistic in the way he moans a louder when your throat tries to force him out. you can practically feel his heart beat in his dick, and you're sure if you took it out of your mouth now it would be a ruddy purple. art is humming into your pussy, his tongue finding your clit over and over again, matching the strokes you're making on his dick. you move your arm out from between your bodies to reach around his leg, fingers sloppily rubbing and toying with his balls.

arts body bends into your touch, as he sobs into your pussy, using the last of his energy to shake his head back and forth against you. you moan around his dick and art whines high and loud, his hips starting to cant into your mouth. ropes and ropes of sticky, salty cum shoot into your mouth, spilling out as you pull your lips off of him. art happily lets you ride his face until you cum, his dick still twitching when you moan his name and babble about how good he's being. art finishes you off with a hum, sending vibrations into you and making you clench, your orgasm sending shivers all through your body. you eventually remember that art needs to breathe, swinging your body around to sit beside him.

"are you okay? im sorry i kind of got carried away.." you ask art, who's happily blissed out looking at you. "yeah.. im- that was great.. amazing even" he replies, making you giggle. "yeah? so you'd wanna do it again sometime?" you reach down and push his sweaty golden hair away from his face. arts eyes immediately light up "yes.. yes please i really do.." <3

[eddiazx]

three's company - buddie x reader

(I blame Doctor Odyssey for this fic)

"Okay, let's play a game." You suggest from your position on the couch between Eddie and Buck.

It was a Friday night and the three of you decided to play video games and drink copious amounts of beer at Buck's, since none of you worked the next day. Needless to say, you weren't entirely sober at the moment.

"Isn't that what we're doing?" Eddie drawls, waving his controller at the television.

"No, I mean a drinking game. Come on! It'll be fun, it would be like we were in college."

"We didn't finish college." Buck deadpans.

"You know what I mean." You whine.

"Okay, fine. How about Never Have I Ever?" Buck proposes.

"Perfect. I'll go first. Never have I ever stolen a firetruck to have sex in it." You smile innocently at Buck as he takes a gulp from his beer, squinting his eyes suspiciously at you as he does.

"Never have I ever had sex in a karaoke bathroom." Eddie states next, smirking at Buck.

"Okay, why am I being targeted right now!" Buck laughs good-naturedly, as he takes another swallow of the beer. "Alright, my turn. Never have I ever... had a threesome."

All three of your beers remain untouched. Eddie and you look at Buck with your eyebrows raised, surprised, to which Buck shrugs, and says, "Buck 1.0 never had the chance."

As the three of you laugh, you admit, "I'm game if you both are."

Eddie and Buck exchange glances, before turning towards you.

"Are you serious?" Eddie questions.

"I am. It could be fun."

Your words linger in the air, making the tension thick. You're about to laugh it off, when Buck cradles your chin towards him. His cerulean eyes are darkened with lust as he leans in to press his pink lips against yours. His teeth bite down on your bottom lip, making your mouth open and gasp into his. You feel Eddie's scruff against the other side of your neck, his canines leaving little bites down to your shoulder, before smoothing them over with his tongue. You're so overwhelmed with the two men giving you attention, that you pull away momentarily. You put a hand on the back of their respective necks, bringing their faces close as you lean back against the back of the couch. You watch intently, biting your lip, as your two best friends touch lips for the first time.

When they eventually break apart from each other, mouths glistening and red, they look at you, almost as if they were asking you for further instructions. You slip your left hand into Eddie's and your right into Buck's, rising to your feet as you do. You pull them up to stand and make your way up to Buck's bed upstairs. With every step the three of you take, you're acutely aware that your relationship will never be the same.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

For someone looking in, they would probably think that this wasn’t the first time the three of you had done this with how seamlessly you moved around each other. Once upstairs, you were all down to your undergarments; you were straddling Eddie, grinding your hips against his clothed cock while making out with Buck who was seated behind Eddie. 

“Need to be inside you.” Eddie’s husky voice chokes out, and you’re not quite sure who he’s saying it to, but you nod and get off Eddie’s lap anyway. You lie on your stomach on the mattress, between Buck’s open legs, eyes now level with his lap.  

You peer up at Buck, pulling his underwear down just enough to free him. Your fingers close around his dick, running them up and down his length, before finally sucking the tip into ur mouth. Eddie takes that moment to pull down your underwear from behind you. He slips inside you easily with one fluid motion, his hands coming to rest on your hips. 

Eddie starts moving at a steadfast pace, the momentum making your body slide up the bed and closer to Buck. You moan around Buck's length. 

Buck groans at the feeling, resting one hand on your head while the other reaches up to bring Eddie’s face closer in a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue. 

You’re not sure who comes first, but you were definitely the first to drift off, because you’re woken up to the caress of a damp cloth running over your skin. You’re urged to use the washroom and coaxed into drinking a glass of water. When you get back into bed you’re sandwiched between Buck and Eddie, limbs intertwined and so very close, that you can feel all three of your hearts beating to the same rhythm. 

[phyrestartr]

Heyyy I'm not sure if you take requests but I have an idea-

Reincarnated! Husband sukuna x Dead spouse (husband) Male Reader: this one is kind of like sukuna fucks up a lot, I think this can work out as an omegaverse? He cheats, fucks around, or doesn't even give af about m reader who is his fated pair, but then m! reader died and since they were mated he's like “shit I can't live without him” so he tries to be good to him the next life and they have happy family the end.

Replay (This Time I'll Get It Right) | Sukuna x Male!Reader (Part 1 of 2)

W/C: 1.6k #alpha!sukuna, omega!reader, mentions of suicide, mentions of murder, ABO dynamics, mentions of stalking, mentions of toxic exes, sukuna sucks, sukuna sucks less eventually, reincarnation, next lives, angst, drama, hurt/comfort, toxic relationships, infidelity/cheating

NOTE: Thank you for your patience!! It's still not quite done, but I wanted to post the first part up while i think of the rest of the story (got a vague idea of how it'll go, so should come out soon). Ty for the req!

tags: @kamote-kuneho @prettorett @memedealer-exe @tr4nniez @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @memedealer-exe @silvern1006

♪ Here With Me - d4vd

♪ Watch the sunrise along the coast

As we’re both getting old ♪

Sukuna puffed on a cigarette, staring out at the city lights. You always liked coming here, to this little cliff hanging above the city–especially when you were stuck on lyrics or tabs of whatever song you were working on. This hillside spot was cheesy and stupid, but you loved the way it felt like an old-school chick flick when you drove up here in your beater.

In this spot, Sukuna realized you had an old soul, one that basked in the simple, mundane things like stargazing and city-watching. It was a step away from feeding pigeons in the park, your producer decided. The way that made you laugh still sent his heart on a wild chase. That, too, was the first moment he realized he wanted you more than just a collaborator. 

And, maybe, if he had pushed aside the partying, the drugs, the women, he might’ve bothered checking his phone. He might’ve been able to apologize for wrongs done and words said, to get back on the right track. He might've not found out about you on the news. Maybe he could have given you everything you wanted–

But he couldn’t. Not anymore. 

♪ I can’t describe what I’m feeling

And all I know is we’re going home ♪

Even after locking you down and starting on that stupid journey to start a family, his spirit still yearned to wander free. 

So it did. 

Primal wants controlled him. He allowed them to steer him away from the safety of your touch and into the gnashing jaws of excitement, of danger. All because the two of you were starting to make it–you were starting to leave your mark on this world, and Sukuna let the fame and greed get to him. 

But how could he not jump at the chance to fuck the famous and infamous? How could he stay faithful to just you, a smalltown boy, when big city celebrities reached out to him, pulling him into big deals and bigger beds? How could he–

His phone blitzed to life again, ringing in the hollow quiet of a too-expensive car. The call went to voicemail, leaving him in the pits of Tartarus again, drowning in the frigid rain beating against his car windows like a million bullets trying to seek the death penalty.

Did angels do that? Take revenge for their own kind? He’d understand it. Jin, an angel in his own right, exiled his Luciferian twin from the celestial plane, barring him from what was left of that tiny spark of love and hope he called “family.” 

♪ So please don’t let me go, oh

Don’t let me go ♪

His phone rang again. He remembered picking it up once upon a time, listening to your shaky voice as you told him the worst and best news he’d ever heard in his entire existence: “I’m pregnant.” 

Sukuna didn’t know what true fear and excitement were until that moment. You laughed through waterworks, lifted by Sukuna’s uncontrolled motor-mouthing and celebrating as he hooted and hollered on the other line. The women your husband was with gave him weird looks, but he didn’t care–you were pregnant. You were going to–

You were going to have his kid. His pup. A shared little joy, a spark of hope for the future. And then–then someone took that away. 

The sorry waste of life, the obsessive ex you vehemently feared, left behind a note for whomever found the tragedy: “I'll take care of them from now on.”

Sukuna knew there had to be more to it, there had to be more of an explanation, but the media wasn't interested; they only wanted to use and abuse your name and face for articles and news reports, not to reminisce on you nor the woe of a murder-suicide.

How come no one cared? Why did no one fucking care?

♪ Save your tears, it’ll be okay

All I know is you’re here with me ♪

He snapped. Sukuna kicked the dashboard. His boot cracked against the console again and again and again until your siren song died in a quick fit of static. He crashed his heel into the broken screen a dozen more times, each impact punching shout after shout out of his tight throat as the weight of the fucking sky collapsed on him. He wasn’t Atlas. He couldn’t hold it up. He never could, not by himself.

Sukuna heaved in breaths. His stomach swirled and churned with nausea. He held his head and leaned back, screaming into the thunder that shook the world with a vital roar, hiding heartbroken howls.

Why? Why? Why? 

“Deep breaths, Sukuna,” your voice cooed. It came from the darkness, from the forgotten corners of his mind. Why were–ah, right. He’d been here before, overcome with agony and grief. Unable to breathe, unable to cope, unable to exist.  

He followed your instructions. 

“In. Out. In. Out.”

In. Out. In. Out.

The phone rang again. Sukuna answered. He hoped whoever it was would tell him this was all just a bad joke. A bad dream. It wasn’t real. 

“Finally,” Wasuke sighed on the other end of the line. “Kid, where the fuck are you?”

Sukuna stared up at the roof of the car. Words smeared and oozed like molasses in his mind. He couldn’t understand the words he knew he could understand. 

“Sukuna.” 

“What the fuck do I do?” Sukuna asked. His voice quivered. Chipped and cracked.

His father fell quiet. But he was wise. So fucking wise and so good at everything that came with life and death, morality and love. 

“Become a better man,” he said, like it was so simple. 

Sukuna scoffed. “H-How the fuck–”

“Quiet, kid.” Wasuke sighed. “That boy loved you. He had faith in you as a partner and a father. Remember that. Honour that, and become the man he knew you could be.”

Sukuna didn’t know his heart could break more, but it did. 

He sobbed. To his father, to himself, to you, to that unborn joy, to whatever fuckhead created life and love in the first place. He cried for forgiveness, for a second shot. 

“I’ll try,” Sukuna bit out. “I’ll try.” 

–

♪ I wish I could live through every memory again

Just one more time before we float off in the wind ♪

Sukuna woke up to that song. It was the same one that played in his nightmares, the same one that robbed him of sleep until he lost his mind and–and–

“What the fuck happened?” Sukuna croaked to whatever singing nymph fluttered around him. 

The damn song stopped, leaving Sukuna in just a second of tumultuous silence. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

The rhythmic chirping of some machine–a heart monitor, maybe? A metronome?--kicked up into double time, jamming an ice pick into his skull further and further with every hellish second that passed by. He could almost hear the radio static, the warp of a ballad calling to him. And it wouldn't stop. It wouldn't stop. Why wouldn't it stop? Why? Why? Why?

“Hey,” your voice cooed. Your hand rested atop of Sukuna's and squeezed. “Can you hear me?” 

Sukuna cracked a tired eye open to look up at you; you were perfect. God-given. A blessing he needed to see right now with your gentle eyes and kind smile, the gentle scent of lavender and vanilla cutting through the disgusting sterility of the room. 

“Can hear you,” Sukuna rasped. His hand tried to turn to hold yours, and you helped by slipping your palm into his. His heart rate slowed with the rhythm of the machine. 

You nodded and covered your clasped hands with your other one. “Good. You probably don't remember, but you were in an accident. A car side-swiped you when you were on your motorcycle.”

“No shit.” 

“Yes shit. But you're alright. Would recommend wearing a helmet from now on.” You pat his hand before slipping both of yours free. “I'll call the doctor and your family. They'll be glad to know you're awake, Itadori-san.” 

He wanted to ask you to stay. He didn't want you to go, not right then, maybe not at all. 

But you flashed him another comforting smile and slipped out of the room before he could object.

–

His father came by. Jin and his son, too. Uraume and Yorozu scolded him for not wearing a helmet. The ragtag group of hooligans he unfortunately associated with (just for the sake of going to their fancy-ass parties, he reasoned) came and went, too; Gojo gave him headaches, Getou made it worse, Ieiri wasn’t so bad.

Then there was you. You were always humming some sort of tune, whether it be the song from his nightmares or something he'd never heard before. Sukuna liked it, the sound of your voice, but you'd always clam up the second you realized someone might hear. 

It led him to pretend to be asleep far too many times during his recovery. Your songs eased his wildfire spirit, let it simmer down and curl up comfortably in a ring of stones to keep those near safe and warm without the fear of being burned alive. Hell, they could probably even make some s’mores if they wanted. 

Eventually, though, Sukuna wanted to know more. And what better person to ask than the burgeoning med student herself?

“Oh, [Name]?” Ieiri asked, sitting beside Sukuna’s bed and looking over the machines connected to Sukuna with rapt attention. “He’s a new-ish nurse from what I get. Pretty cute, huh? Apparently passed his exams no problem and–” 

Sukuna rolled his eyes. “If you don’t know relevant shit then just–”

“He’s single. Omega. Likes men. Kinda older than us. Gojo and Getou got rejected already.” 

That shut Sukuna up. 

[transmascsub]

i want to have a 'friend', my roommate, convince me to get top surgery which keeps all my nipple sensitivity and bottom surgery that keeps my cock all small and sensitive and keeps my hole to 'avoid complications in surgery'. i'm so breedable right now that i have to be on oestrogen blockers and i want her to tell me to switch to the pill so i get all nice and round and plump.

then i want her to convince me that if i have a pussy still, and i can't get pregnant from it, it should be fine for her to use it? after all she's done for me. it's such a small thing, letting her use my pussy if i'm not even using it myself, and we're just friends, it's not weird. she does all the washing up so it's fair.

so she starts fucking me with her huge cock and it's so much and i'm so sensitive and i don't want to like it but all the hormones make my brain all swimmy and my cock all twitchy and i cum on her girlcock every time and hope she doesn't notice. i get all whimpery and whiny when she stuffs me and i just say it's because i'm uncomfortable but it's because it's so so good and i hate it so much.

she starts fucking me all day and night. if i'm doing work on my laptop she'll just pick me up and sit me back down on her cock and tell me to keep going. if i'm in the kitchen to make breakfast she'll ask if i don't mind awfully if she could get some help with her morning wood and she'll gently but firmly press me over the counter and stuff me so so full.

her friends come over and she casually brings up that i still have a pussy and they all ask for a go, and when i'm uncertain, they say that it's not fair that i get a pussy when they don't (they're all women) and the least i could do is let them fuck me and they're so firm and they push so hard that i just let them to avoid conflict. then they just keep casually talking to each other about nothing in particular like magic the gathering whilst wrecking me with their girlcocks. at one point one of them points out one of their cocks is making my tummy bulge each thrust and they record it and show the girl thrusting into me and they laugh or call it cute and i turn pink with embarrassment. of course i'm left with cum leaking out of me.

eventually she doesn't stop there. she knows i'm a breeding boy, and she's made me into a breeding cockslut. she swaps my birth control for a fertility med with aphrodisiac side effects and of course doesn't tell me. she leaves me to stir for a few days, getting plumper and more sensitive. my nipples feel teased by any clothes i wear. my cock is hard all of the time. she packs my schedule which exhausts me so i never have a second to touch myself.

after four days of being constantly teased and tortured, i break. all my objections are overcome by need and she's already fucking me anyway so what's the harm in asking if she'd like to do it now? and so i ask her if maybe she could fuck me. she probes me with questions and she makes me tell her that i enjoy it, that i cum on her cock every time, that i'm constantly moaning in pleasure when she's inside me. she makes me agree that i feel empty without it, that i'm desperate to please her and be stuffed with cum.

she makes me prove how much i love her cock, and i'm just so needy and desperate that i'd do anything. she makes me suck her off, and it's so so humiliating. she makes me watch her as i bounce my mouth on her cock. it's so thick and just a fraction of it fills my mouth all the way up and tears start spilling from my eyes. she calls me pathetic, that i'm so desperate for cock that i'd suck off my best friend, and that i must just be a total cockslut. she says i can't think of anything other than cock and being stuffed. she gets bored with my weak attempts and starts fucking my throat. she says that pleasing women is what i'm for, and that it's just uncomfortable because i'm not used to it, and once i understand my true purpose it'll get easier.

she doesn't cum in my throat. she forces it out, dripping with my saliva and her precum, and makes me beg her to breed me. i didn't think that she was being serious - i haven't been fertile in years - so i comply and plead with my fogged-up mind for her to cum inside of me and that i'll be good for her and that she can use me whenever she likes and i don't mind. i don't know or care about what i'm saying, i'm just saying anything to have her inside me. i'm too swimmy to think about anything but her cock.

she pulls out her phone and tells me to look up to the camera and say that i need her to breed me full. and i do, just not having enough brain to think about how foolish i was being. and she says i'll take you at your word, and finally, finally, she bends me over. she leaves her phone recording us but i don't notice. she rubs the tip of her cock against my opening and tells me how wet i am for her and how much of a pathetic slut i am. how she bets i can't think of anything other than cock. how she thinks that it's probably all i'm good for. it's torturous, her tip just so so close to what i need, and she just keeps teasing me. i just… adjust my angle, to make penetration easier for her, and she laughs at me for presenting myself, and how i'm just a dumb cockslut, and how she doesn't think there's much brain in there anymore. that i'm basically just a toy for her and her friends to pass around each other, and that i wouldn't mind. she says that they're going to fill me up with cum soooo nicely. that they'll take care of me so well. that my womb will be bulging with cum. that it's what my slutty body was made for: being bred over and over.

i'm squirming on her cock, desperate for her, but she's pinning my hips firmly to the bed and i just can't get it in me and i need it so much and i'm crying a little and i just start moaning please over and over. and she just looks at me and smiles and pets my hair and says, alright boytoy, and she pushes all the way inside me at once and i just. break. and then she starts thrusting and oh my god nothing has ever ever felt this good and she knows it and she asks me doesn't this feel nice and that this is what it could be like every day and i could just be a toy for women to use as they like. she tells me that i'm made for being bred. she grabs my thighs and my ass and tells me how they're all plump and lush and that's the way of nature telling everyone that i'm breedable and she's touching me all over and telling me how sensitive i am and how i wouldn't be so sensitive if i wasn't made to be touched like this. and i'm moaning so much that she can just assume that i agree with every word she says. and i can't think but i know it feels so good and that i need it so so so much and everything she says can be true as long as she never stops ever because nothing else will ever compare.

but i'm wrong. she tells me to beg her for her cum. i let out a string of pleases and moans and she gives me a spank and says properly. and i try so hard to concentrate and say that it'll feel really nice and i want it so much and she's right about everything and that i need it and i'm built for it and please please please. she makes me call her mistress, and i'm so deep in that i don't think about the fact that she's my best friend and we've been friends for years and i'm going to swap all of that to be her cockdrunk toy. and i just say please, mistress, please give me your cum, i need it, i need you, please, i'm so so desperate for it, i can't, i can't do anything but think about it, i'll do anything just please please please come inside of me.

this seems to, just about, satisfy her. she calls me her pathetic cuntboy, and that she'll fix me the cuntboy i was always meant to be. and she starts touching my cocklet and my nipples and i'm so so so close and she's going so fast and i can't and my whole body is overcome with pleasure. my cock is all pink and twitching and leaking and her fingers are magical. and then, pistoning in and out of me, she cums all the way inside me, filling me up, and it's the greatest moment of my life so far and it's so much and it's everything. and i cum but i don't even really notice.

she gives me a kiss on the forehead and tells me that i've done so so well for her, and that i'm going to make such a good toy and be so useful for the community. little do i know that she's planning to use me as an incubator for lesbian couples struggling with fertility so after a month of being fertilised she plans to take out the embryo from me and breed me again. i'm just a breeding machine to her. and she owns me, and that much i already know.

[punksyeet]

- Family Cookout ❥

Plot: Gianna (OC) is nervous to meet the Fatu family for the first time, especially after being acquainted with her “boyfriend” Josh for so long, but it ends up going in her favor.

Warning: Hefty flirting!

"Are you guys sure this isn't too much?" I ask, backing up into frame and doing a couple spins and poses in my outfit I planned for today.

It's a beige themed outfit with an oversized t-shirt, jean capris, and some Nikes.

My “boyfriend” Josh invited me to his annual end-of-the-summer cookout.

And as if my nerves weren't high enough, this is the first time I'll be meeting his family.

"Girl, absolutely not!" Jade reassures me.

"Jade is right. You look stunning!" Bianca agrees.

"Hot mama!" Trinity adds.

I smile and flick back my hair. "You girls are the sweetest."

We all share a laugh and, eventually, hang up the call so everyone can finish getting ready.

I head up to my bedroom and throw on some jewelry, spray some perfume, and touch up my hair.

"Just relax, girl. They're gonna love you." I whisper to myself in the mirror.

—————————————————————————————————

I just rolled up to Josh’s brother Jonathan’s house, where the cookout is happening.

Once Trin sees me, she comes running over and we share a hug while laughing and squealing.

"Girl you look amazing!" she exclaims. "I can't wait for you to meet the family!"

I nod, smiling.

Her smile fades and she tilts her head, taking my hands. "Girl I know that look. Why are you nervous?"

I take a deep breath and look down. "I've never met his family before. I just really hope they like me."

She sucks her teeth and strokes my hands with her thumbs. "Babygirl of course they're gonna like you! Just be yourself and, if it's ever awkward, the girls and I will be right there. Okay?"

I look up and nod, smiling. "Thanks Trin."

She smiles and wraps me into another hug then takes my hand. "Let's go before the guys eat all the food."

I giggle and we head into the backyard.

"There she is!" Jon calls and jogs over, wrapping me into a hug. "We're so happy you could make it Gi."

I smile and hug back. "Me too Jon. Thanks for inviting me."

Soon enough, the girls come over and embrace me as well.

Then Josh spots me and jogs over.

"Hey beautiful girl," he coos and pulls me into a warm hug.

"Hi love," I reply, smiling against his chest. "Thank you for inviting me."

He pulls away from the hug and cups my face. "Anytime ma. I thought it was about time you meet my dad and everybody."

I smile, nodding.

We share a sweet kiss before he takes my hand and leads me to his family.

The last person I meet is Solofa aka Rikishi, Josh and Jon's dad.

"It's so nice to meet you," I say, shaking his hand.

"You as well sweetie," he replies. "It's nice to finally meet the girl that my son can't seem to shut up about."

We share a laugh and look at Josh, who sucks his teeth. "Maaaaan!"

—————————————————————————————————

It's been hours of eating and trying amazing food, taking shots, dancing, doing karaoke, and just all around enjoying each other's company.

The girls and I are all sitting around the fire pit with our boyfriends/husbands.

"So Jon and I were thinking," Trin begins, patting his leg. "Since we have the room, why doesn't everyone stay over tonight?"

Jon nods. "It'll be fun. And it's not like we all get to hang out very often."

I smile and look back at Josh from his lap, while running my fingers through his mullet, his arms around my waist. "Sounds fun!"

Everyone ends up agreeing as well and Trin claps her hands, squealing.

After all the family is gone, we all head inside.

The guys head to the kitchen table to play poker and us girls head to Trin's room to watch romance movies and gossip.

It's an all around really fun time with my best friends.

Soon enough, it's pretty late and everyone heads to bed.

"No one get too freaky now!" Jon teases and Trin whacks him upside the head.

"Oh sure, Uce! You should talk!" Josh calls back.

We all share a laugh and head into the guest rooms.

—————————————————————————————————

The next morning, I head out after breakfast.

Josh walks me to my car and I turn to him once we get there.

We stare into each other's eyes for a second before he breaks the silence. "I'm really happy you decided to come yesterday. My family loves you."

I smile, running my fingers through his hair. "I'm happy I came too. They're amazing."

He smiles and strokes my sides and leans down so our foreheads are touching. "I love you so much," he whispers.

I smile and brush our noses together. "I love you too."

He cups my face and breaks the space between us with a placing his soft, plump lips on mine.

After about ten seconds, he finally pulls away and opens the driver's seat door for me.

He takes my hand and I hop in and thank him.

"Drive safe ma," he says and kisses my hand before letting it go. "Text me when you get home."

"I will," I reply, smiling.

He smiles back and we share one more sweet kiss before I close the door drive off.

—————————————————————————————————

** Josh's POV **

I stand on the sidewalk and watch my beautiful girl drive off before heading back inside.

"I didn't know my brother was such a romantic!" Jon teases, once I shut the door behind me.

"You guys are adorable," Trin adds on, and gives me puppy dog eyes.

"What they said!" Jade agrees.

"Sooo...when are you gonna officially make her yours?" Bianca asks, folding her arms.

Kenneth looks up from his phone. "Wait, you guys aren't official yet?"

I sigh and walk over to the couch, taking a seat next to my brother.

"I don't wanna scare her away," I reply, resting my elbows on my knees. "She's so special to me."

Jon throws his arm over my shoulders. "You ain't scaring shit away, Uce. She clearly loves you just as much as you love her."

I smile, the thought of Gianna finally being all mine lingering around my mind.

"Jon is right," Bianca exclaims, sitting next to Kenneth. "Gi is infatuated with you."

"Trust us," Jade adds on. "She loves you so much."

Trin nods in agreement.

"Aight I'll ask her. But I'll need some help." I reply, looking at all of them.

—————————————————————————————————

** Gianna’s POV **

I scoop some warm water onto my face, rinsing off the cleanser that I just applied.

Josh called me earlier this morning, and asked me on an evening picnic date.

And who would I be if I said no to that man?

After brushing my teeth, I head into my bedroom to find something to wear.

I decide on a white dress, beige sandals, and a white bow in my hair.

Once I'm fully dressed, I play with my hair a little, spray Josh's favorite perfume, pick out some jewelry, and head downstairs.

As if on cue, my doorbell rings.

I check myself in the mirror one more time before opening the door and seeing my gorgeous man standing there.

He's holding a bouquet of my favorite flowers, hydrangeas, and is dressed in a black polo shirt, black jeans, his panda dunks, and my favorite silver chain.

"Hi gorgeous," he coos and hands me the flowers. "These are for you."

I smile, taking them and reach up to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you love. They're beautiful."

After I shut and lock the door behind me, he takes my hand, kisses it, and leads me to the car.

He opens the passenger door for me, and I hop in.

He scans my body and smiles, looking back up at me. "You look stunning ma."

I smile shyly and thank him.

We share a kiss and he shuts the door, then eventually hops into the car as well.

As we drive off, he takes my free hand, which is resting on my leg, and intertwines our fingers.

————————————————————————————————-

Soon enough, we pull up to a meadow area in our neighborhood.

He helps me out of the car, and I help him carry some stuff out of the trunk.

Once we find the perfect spot, we set down a comfy blanket and set up all of the food and activities that he brought.

The basket he packed consists of fresh fruit, some desserts / pastries, and our favorite food to get together: Chipotle.

He also brought a Polaroid camera and some painting supplies.

I smile looking at everything spread out on the blanket. "Josh you didn't have to do all this."

He reaches out to take a strand of hair away from my face. "Only the best for you beautiful."

He gently holds my chin in between his index finger and thumb, and places his soft and plump lips on mine.

We kiss for about a minute or so - just enjoying each other.

God how I wish this man was officially all mine.

Soon enough, we start digging into the food and taking pictures.

It's an all around really sweet and wholesome date.

Once majority of the food is gone, the sun starts to set.

Josh stands up and reaches out for my hand.

I tilt my head. "Is everything okay?"

He smiles, nodding. "Fine, my love. Just come with me. I wanna show you something."

"Joshua you better not be trying anything," I reply, raising an eyebrow.

He laughs in response and takes my hand as if he's done waiting.

We walk for about a minute or so and he covers my eyes with his hands.

I hold his wrists. "Joshua Fatu what are you doing?"

He chuckles and kisses my temple. "Just trust me, ma. You're gonna love this."

Soon enough, he uncovers my eyes and I'm met with the most shocking sight ever.

It's huge light up letters that read "BE MY GF" with a heart and even more flowers.

Jaw dropped, I just stand there staring at the words.

I've always wanted to belong to Joshua and only Joshua, and I've been dreaming of this day.

I just can't believe it's finally here.

"Josh I..." I begin, turning back around to face him and he's down on one knee.

I gasp and immediately cover my mouth.

He chuckles and stares into my eyes. "Before you say anything, let me."

I continue to stand there, not moving a bone in my body.

"Gianna, my babygirl, my princess, the love of my life. From the day that I met and first laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the woman for me. You're beyond words kind, generous, caring, gorgeous, and so much more. You truly are my best friend and the best thing to ever happen to me. I know I've never officially asked you to be mine, so as tempting as it was to ask you to marry me today, I settled for asking you to be my girlfriend with a promise ring first. I promise to love, be loyal to, take care of, and worship you for as long as you let me. Will you be mine, ma?"

I stand there for a second, still the same shocked expression on my face.

And soon enough, the shock turns into emotional and I run right into his arms.

He immediately wraps his arms around me and digs his face into my neck.

"I love you so much," he whispers.

I sniffle, tears running down my face and onto his shirt. "I love you too."

We hug for about a minute more, before he pulls away, keeping his hands on my waist.

"So...is that a yes?" he asks.

We share a laugh and I wipe my tears, smiling. "Yes baby. A thousand times yes."

He smiles, a singular tear rolling down his gorgeous tanned skin, as he slides the ring onto my left handed ring finger.

I cup his face and press my lips on his, as he kisses back and stands up.

I pull away and he wraps me in his arms once more.

Once we finally seperate, we decide to take a walk by a nearby pond, hand in hand.

I look down at my ring.

"I'm so happy I finally built up the confidence to ask you," Josh coos, stroking my hand with his thumb.

I smile, looking up at him and kiss his nose. "I'm happy you did too."

We smile and share yet another lengthy kiss.

Soon enough, the sun goes down and we head back to our blanket to pack everything up and head home.

————————————————————————————————-

After a bit of driving, we pull up in front of my house.

Josh leaves the car and I unbuckle my seatbelt before he opens the passenger door for me.

I take only my legs out, letting them dangle, before wrapping my arms around his neck. "Thank you for today, baby. It was perfect."

He smiles, and gently strokes my cheek. "I'm glad you enjoyed it my love. And I'm happy you're finally mine."

We share a smile and a passionate kiss.

Once we pull away, I brush my nose against his.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" I suggest, playing with his chain.

"Sounds perfect," he replies, and kisses my forehead.

I hop out of the car, before giving him one last kiss, and head inside.

I watch through the curtains as he drives away.

Talk about the most perfect day with my man.

My man.

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[hellisharchive]

Adam with a bimbo s/o? I know it's not much to go off of but I'm a huge fangirl of your writing and I think you could do so well with this prompt! Have fun!!!

﹒﹒﹒dumb bitch

➤ Everyone knows you weren't the sharpest tool in the shed, you were pretty but dumb, you were always kind to everyone though. You somehow got the attention of the first man who didn't care how kind you were- he just wanted a good fuck

➤ 18+, sexual remarks, implied sex

➤ Adam x Bimbo!reader

➤ Hi yes this took literally 2 months I'm sorry I suck at requests in a managable time 😭😭😭

Adam first saw you and he immediately knew he wanted to fuck. I mean, you were HOT. So of course he hit his shot, he was the first man, Adam! Who wouldn't want the original dick?.

So, he shamelessly went up to you and flirted, causing you to blush and become flustered. You didn't know what he looked like under that mask but his voice was hot. He said he wanted to bring you to his room, what for? You weren't sure. But he he was cute, so you agreed.

He noticed that you weren't the smartest and you asked if you were going to watch movies or something, totally not understanding that he wanted to get freaky, and he sighed internally. He got a dumb bitch, didn't he? At least it'll make it easier for him to fuck you silly.

You laughed at his every joke even if they didn't hit as you walked towards his place, it was in the center of Heaven! How'd he manage that? That was only where the highest non human angels lived! You asked him and he sighed interally again before answering. "I'm the first mortal soul here Babe, I got the best of the best".

You both finally made it to his place and you just stared in awe at how pretty it was before oh! He started kissing you! That was unexpected, but you couldn't help but kiss back. Was this why he wanted to take you back? Not to watch movies? Things started to escalate and he dragged you into his bedroom where he shut the door.

Two weeks later, you two fucked regularly, Adam only saw you as a fuck buddy, but you considered it to be a relationship without even him knowing. So you always told people he was your boyfriend and when he finally found out, oh he was PISSED.

You were shocked when he said you two weren't dating, but how? You were together! You were fucking! You liked him! You started to cry because it hurt and he quickly shushed you, trying to calm you down but you kept sobbing.

He thought of something that normally he wouldn't agree to, but he- for some reason- felt terrible for making you cry. He told you that you can officially start dating and you squealed in delight and hugged him. Right after he felt like he was making a huge mistake, but couldn't help it when he felt his heart skip a beat when you hugged him. Oh no, was he forming feelings for you too?

Three months later and the relationship actually was pretty nice, Lute gave him hard shit at first but eventually ended up being fond over you- protective even. He doesn't do "romance" so he had to always get advice on what to do, but he was actually pretty happy with you. It shocked him, but you were such a pure soul he was almost thankful he agreed.

You were as happy as can be and on your first official date, you finally got to watch movies with him. Now every few dates, he always watches the newest movies that come out just to make you happy, he loves to see you smile.

[ramp-it-up]

Sugar, Cubed II:

Simple Sugar

Summary: I revisited Sugar and the boys from the Sugar is Sweet séries, and let me tell you. Bucky and Steve sure have grown up from their college days. They are no longer playing around. And they are coming for you. You're forced to be roommates with Steve again. But you can establish boundaries. It'll be simple, right?

Word Count: 3K

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader; mention of Bucky Barnes x Reader; boss Tony Stark x reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Not Beta’d. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Roommate/Co-worker au, S MUT! Angst, Tony is a shit boss, massive debt. forced proximity. Tattoo talk, Steve apologizes, accidental, then purposeful voyeurism, reference to porn and sex toys, masturbation, talk of impotence, raw p in v, rough sex, dirty talk, lots of cum, eventual polyandry. Basically, you are doomed. Porn with plot.

A/N: This is related to the Sugar is Sweet au, but can be read alone. This is part two to Sugar, Cubed. The next part is soon come! I hope you like it. This is part of Falloween 2024.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

——

After three days of calling in sick, you were summoned for a sit down with Mr. Stark. 

This was not a, ”have a drink while Black Sabbath plays and you admire Tony’s t-shirt as he rambles” type of chat. This was, a “let’s review the terms of your contract in the boardroom with suits” type of meeting.

Tony’s eyes admired you in your silk blouse and pencil skirt as you arrived, then watched you pointedly at you as you reviewed the numbers on the page.

Half a million for your bachelor’s and masters degree at NYU. Almost as much for housing. Not to mention the penalty for breaking your contract early. Even if you were paid a pretty penny and you had a ton of savings, you’d still be digging yourself out of a hole for the rest of your life if you quit.

Tony Stark owned your ass.

But you were on the verge of not caring.

“I know, you are over your current working situation, Sugar. But I still believe in you. I believe in the team of BuckySugarSteve.”

You gave him a confused look.

“Still trying to find a hashtag, look that doesn’t matter. It’s come to my attention that a certain plucky Bucky took things a little too far the other night. I’m sorry you had to deal with that on my watch.”

Tony looked sincere. But you eyed him warily.

“Thinking back on what you said last week, I now agree that you need a break. So I’m sending you to the Tokyo lab. But only for a limited time.”

“How long?”

Tony stood and turned his back on you, looking out over the Hudson.

“Depends on the progress made on the project there.” 

You stared at his back and his jet black hair and chewed your lip. You wanted out from the tension between the three of you. But there had to be a catch.

“What does the work entail?”

Tony turned back around with a smirk and explained the research and answered a few more questions from you. It seemed right in your skill set. Tony sat back down and crossed his ankle over his leg while he templed his fingers. He stared at you over the conference table.

“So what do you say Sugar?”

“I’m in.”

—--

You should have asked more questions.

Rage boiled inside you as you put up the partition on your business class seat and you typed away angrily on your phone. You shouldn’t have been surprised that your seatmate was Steve Rogers, but you were.

You just cursed as he greeted you and pulled out your phone as the flight attendant gave you the stink eye. Steve arrived just at the doors were closing. And there was no escape.

You wanted to throw your phone after you saw Tony’s response.

“I said you needed a break from Barnes, not Rogers. Suck it up and enjoy your time in Japan. Check out the expense account and your digs in Asakusa. You have to share, because space is at a premium in Tokyo, but you’ll survive.”

You didn’t bother to click the links that Tony sent. The living arrangements were sure to be top notch and the money was probably going to be great, but living with and working next to Steve was not what you were looking forward to. 

You popped a sleeping pill and tried to sleep most of the 14 hour flight. After managing to get some rest, you were not as rude to Steve when you had to put down your partition. Luckily, he didn’t try to speak to you and you deboarded the plane and got your luggage and to your driver without incident.

When you got to your place, you were impressed, but anxious. 

The place was modern and well placed within walking distance of the trains, but Tony was right. Your apartment in New York was twice the size of this place, and it was only you. 

You went to investigate the sleeping situation. There were two small bedrooms and they were right next to each other. Only one had an en-suite.

You were chewing your lip, deep in thought when Steve interrupted reverie. His voice was hoarse from half a day of not being used.

“It’s close quarters, but I will make it so you don’t even know I’m here.”

You turned around to see Steve standing in the doorway of the room you’d silently called dibs on.

He looked like a kid, in his rumpled t-shirt and hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. You almost felt something.

But not quite.

“Look, Sugar. I’m sorry. I really am. What happened in the elevator was… Bucky’s got a lot going on–”

He stopped once he noticed that you had stiffened up at Bucky’s name.

“Don’t make excuses for him. If you want to apologize, take responsibility for what you’ve done. Or not done. On. Your. Own.”

You sat on the ground and opened up your suitcase. Steve watched you as you started to unpack, thoughtful.

“You’re right. I’m sorry I didn’t punch him in the mouth to shut the jerk up.”

You just shook your head, refusing to smile, even though you thought about it.

“And I am so very sorry for lying to you. No matter what the reason. I should not have done that.”

You looked up at him and you could see Steve’s adam’s apple bob in his throat multiple times. His nervous tell. But you continued to look him in the eye.

“You were right to react the way you did. And you’re right to want to be as far away from u- me as you want to be. I’ve lost the best thing that ever happened to me and it was entirely my fault.”

You had to break eye contact then. You didn’t want to cave. You turned the sweater you were folding over and over in your hands. You could hear Steve take a deep breath.

“I just want–”

He cleared his throat again.

“Shit, I want a lot of things, Sugar, but I hope we can be cordial, friends even? We used to be friends. We're in a new city, a new country, a new continent. We can have a lot of fun together.”

You looked back up at him.

“Like we used to?”

“A lot has happened since ‘we used to,’ Steven.”

His shoulders slumped.

“Well, I will stay out of your way.”

He turned around to get out of your space and you felt a pang of some kind of emotion that you did not want to name.

“Hey.”

Steve stopped and turned around, his face guarded.

“I’ve been on a plane for an entire day, and I just want breakfast even though it’s 4pm here. I think I’m hangry. Let me think about it.” That smile. Oh, if you still had a heart, he might do something to it.

“I think I saw some eggs and American breakfast fixins in the fridge. I’ll make you an omelet.”

Steve knew you were a slut for breakfast. Among other things.

—--

After eating and chatting, you conceded that you did want a shopping partner; you planned to hit up all the thrift stores and you wanted someone to take day trips with on the weekend. You decided on a truce. It may have been food induced, but you thought that you could set good boundaries with Steve, so you lay down some ground rules.

Steve agreed to everything you said.

After trying to stay up as long as you could, you were ready to turn in for the night. You had a couple of days before you needed to report to the lab, so you and Steve decided to explore your neighborhood and maybe do some touristy things, since Tokyo Tower and the Asahi brewery were right outside your window.

And then it happened. 

You were minding your own business after your shower, in your thin cotton tank and sleep shorts, going to the kitchen to fill your water bottle. Suddenly, the hallway door opened and you ran into Steve coming out of the bathroom, naked except for a towel slung low on his waist and beads of water running down the planes of his extremely well made torso.

He almost ran into you.

“Oh, shit Sugar, I’m sorry….”

You’d stopped short and were staring at his left pectoral. There was new ink on the golden boy’s body. 

And you couldn’t believe it.

Among the beads of water diving down his body to disappear under the towel, because why wouldn’t they, there was a chemical formula. And you couldn’t believe which one it was.

“How long have you had that?”

You were staring, and your hand reached out to touch it, but you pulled back before you made contact. You looked up into his eyes and then back down at the tattoo because you didn’t want to drown in his eyes like you used to. 

But it seemed kind of inevitable now.

Sometime in the six months that you’d been broken up, Steve had gotten the compound for simple sugar tattooed on his body, (CH2O)x

“Sugar–”

“How long?”

You whispered it. And then dove into the blue depths of his eyes again.

“Two weeks after we broke up.”

His voice was impossibly deep, and threatened to reach places that you wanted to be unreachable. But you didn’t ask why.

“What was the thought process behind that decision, Steve?”

You didn’t ask why. But you needed to know the reason.

“Because it’s pretty simple, Sugar. You just wanted honesty. And if I had been honest, maybe we’d still be together. So I got this tattoo to remind myself that this is all I have left of the girl I loved the most. So maybe when I fall in love again, I won’t be such an idiot.”

“Wow.”

You reached out again and touched the tattoo. It had been right over his heart, without you knowing, for the better part of half a year.

Steve’s eyes stuttered closed and he drew in a sharp breath when you touched him.

“Sugar. You gotta know how…

You shook your head, blown away and rocked by what he said. Mostly the “when I fall in love again” part. You don’t know why that phrase echoed around your head.

“I’ve got to tell it all. Sugar, I thought in the back of my head that if you knew Bucky was hurt, that you’d go back to him.”

You closed your eyes, not wanting to sympathize with this grown ass man who lied to you so hard about someone you both loved, but you understood.

“So I lied, partly because he asked me to. But mostly because I was trying to keep you to myself.”

You sagged against the wall, still touching him, fingers grazing the mark that he’d made on his body for you. Steve followed you, not wanting the contact to end, and stood before you in the narrow hallway, naked except for a towel. He was closer than you’d allowed him to be in a while.

Finally, you looked up at him.

“You’re right, It is simple. I just wanted honesty. I wouldn’t have abandoned you for Bucky, Steve.”

Steve moved impossibly closer as his eyes flicked down your body. You remembered he had it memorized. Your chemistry was amazing. Not just the formula tattooed on his skin, but the draw of you to him, and him to you. You weren’t over that.

But you wanted to be.

One of Steve’s hands was on his towel, and the other was above your head. You were looking up at him and he down at you, and it was the perfect moment to kiss. But he didn’t make another move. You looked down and noticed that his towel had changed shape.

“Sugar…”

You looked him in the eyes again. It was all up to you.Your breathing was erratic and your panties were damp. Reaching up, you put your hands up on his pecs again. 

This time to push him back. 

“I think we need some rest.”

Steve backed up, toward his bedroom.

“Right. We need…”

Your need was mighty. But you weren’t giving in. You took a deep breath.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

“Night, Sugar.”

—-

You breathed a sigh of relief at your narrow escape and went in the kitchen to drink water and cool down. You mindlessly scrolled your phone for a few minutes and decided that you were calm enough to go to sleep. You glanced at Steve’s door as you opened yours, and you just had to stop.

His door was cracked just enough so you could see Steve sprawled on his bed, towel still on, still tented, and he was scrolling on his phone. He looked delicious, from the tattoo on his pec to his tiny tan nipples to his amazing abs and the trail of hair pointing to the large cock that you had memorized, and which was standing at attention under his towel. 

He looked good enough to eat. And you had plenty of times. But those days were over.

You bit your lip as he rubbed his erection over the towel, and moved closer as he groaned a little bit.

Was he looking at porn?

You totally understood his frustration after what happened, and he was in the privacy of his own room, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. You felt guilty but you continued to watch him touch himself. 

And as you wanted to touch yourself.

You stared at his open door as suddenly, the towel came off, and he was naked, and stunningly aroused, his face pure lust.

Steve Roger’s cock was gorgeous. 

Your memories were nothing like the reality of him, thick and curved against his abs. He gripped the shaft, stroking it. Your hands found one of your nipples in the now-dark hallway, imagining kneeling for him.

You dreamed of his cock in your mouth and could practically feel yourself swirling tongue over his head and worshiping him as he told you what to do. The sensation him deep in your throat and letting him use it took over you.

You pinched your nipple tighter as he casually jerked himself off. You felt dirty, thinking how he’d feel knowing that you were watching him like this. 

Would he be mad?

Or…

Stifling a whimper, you slid a hand into your shorts, smearing your wetness over your clit to trace fast, tight circles there. You hadn’t had anyone but electronic lovers and plastic since you broke up with Steve. And here he was, giving you a show. 

You needed to see it. You wanted to see Steve cum, erupt, spill over his large, veiny hand, cream all over those abs. You moaned slightly as you imagined sucking it off those places.

His hand blurred on his shaft. Your clit hardened as you remembered his thick dick penetrating you, him fucking you well, calling you beautiful…

“Christ, Sugar, make me so hard. Take me so well. Cum with me Sweetheart…”

You were almost there and suddenly, Steve stopped. He got up, let go of his dick, walked to the light switch, give yon a look, and then plunged the room into darkness. 

Then he closed the door.

You practically jumped into your room, pacing, shocked and excited, thoughts in a jumble.

Your phone buzzed in the pocket of your shorts.

It was a text from Steve.

“If you want more, just open my door. It’s unlocked. You can have anything you want. I want you. What do you want, Sugar?”

You are propelled into the hallway, to his door, hesitating only a moment. You’re just going to talk to him. Apologize. Tell him you would never do it again. 

You were in his room now and the Tokyo moon cast shadows over his sleek torso. He was covered by the comforter, but you knew he was still hard.

“I always loved you in just tank tops. Those nipples are just begging to be sucked.” 

His deep baritone made you launch yourself toward him. Steve caught you in his arms, both of you bouncing on the bed from the impact.

“What it’s gonna be, Sugar? What do you want?”

You are taking his hands and molding them to your breasts, throwing the covers off and straddling his thighs. You pulled your shorts and panties to the side so you could feel the slide and ridge of his cock catch on your clit as you slipped over him.

It felt electric.

“I want you Steve. Fuck it all. I want you.”

You’ve lost your mind. You’re creaming on his dick as his big, strong arms held you steady and you humped him like a mad woman. 

“Fuck, it’s been so fucking difficult being hard as a rock all day working next to you in the lab, you ignoring me, and then not being able to get it up for anyone else…”

You were irrationally angry.

“Mine.”

You grabbed Steve’s cock and moved your thighs, lifting up and pushing his fat head into your cunt. You glared at him as you slowly sunk down on him, his thick shaft slowly opening you up.

It hurt so good. 

Your head lolled back on your neck as Steve pulled your tank top down and started brutally sucking your nipples. 

“Fuck yeah, it’s yours. Fit me like a fucking glove.”

Steve held you down for a few seconds as he pushed up into you as if he was going to lock on on his cock, then he lifted you up by your waist and started pounding you from beneath.

He stared up at you in the moonlight and you could feel his cock jump inside you.

“Didn’t matter what I did, who it was. Couldn’t fuck anyone else. Had to come home and pull up pictures of you.”

Steve was moving you now, just like a fleshlight, thumb at your clit.

“I’m about to fucking bust, and you better fucking cum around my cock before I do. Been too godamn long, Sugar.”

You moaned erotically at the thought of Steve impotent with everyone else but you.

He groaned in response and squeezed your nipple brutally. You quaked with your orgasm and Steve erupted mid pump, his spend spurting out as he moved in and out of you. 

“Fuuuuu-uuuck!” 

You collapsed backward on the bed as Steve continued to pump, impossibly still hard even after he came. You reached down into the copious wetness and circled your clit, wanting to prolong the sensation, and Steve groaned/laughed as you convulsed around him again.

You were a tangle of limbs, fluid, sweat and wet cloth as you came down.

Steve pulled you up, you got out of his bed and walked back to your bedroom, turning on the shower.

As you climbed into your bed, Steve was already there, re-showered himself. You fell asleep in Asakusa, Tokyo, Japan, tracing his tattoo, and wondering if it really was that  simple, Sugar.

——

Did you like it? Let me know!

Next part soon. 😮‍💨

[baby-yongbok]

Okay so here’s my request: a Hyunjin fic Where Hyunjin needs to pee and y/n keeps teasing him and won’t let him go so she straddles his lap and starts making out with him, he keeps warning her that he needs to go but she doesn’t care. Then she asks him to just…let go as she grinds down on him, and he’s really nervous at first but gives in eventually soaking them both. Bonus points is she jerks him off and makes him cum after, gold stars if he pees more in her hand as he orgasms too.

There, good luck w the challenge soldier, I kept this one tame for beginners 🤭

It took me a while, life has been lifeing but I'm here and I DID IT. Once I got into the flow of writing this is came quite easily and was fun to create 😊 Thank you the challenge! Let me know how I did 😅❣️

New Kink

Boyfriend!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 1,527

Warnings: Cursing, Cum tasting (That should be it, so sorry if I missed anything)

✨Masterlist✨

"Come on, you just got here and you want to leave me already?" You pull at your boyfriend's arm, trying to force him onto the couch. He only resists a little bit because he wants to give in to you. You and Hyunjin haven't seen each other for a week since your schedules didn't line up and you want to spend every second you can wrapped in his arms. 

"Angel, it's just for a second. I just have to use the bathroom." Hyunjin pleads with you softly. 

"Is the bathroom more important than me?" You tease once you finally get him to sit on the couch. You quickly get on top of him to keep him from leaving you. "I thought you missed me."

You fake a pout and Hyunjin sighs softly.

"I did miss you, my love. I just need to pee and then I'll be right back." He attempts to push you off of him but you anchor yourself, pressing your crotch against his pelvis. A small grunt erupts from Hyunjin’s throat as he struggles to hold his bladder. 

"You'll be fine, just stay with me." You leave a small kiss on his lips. "I missed you, baby."

You kiss Hyunjin again this time deeper, more passionate than before. He hesitates for a second but kisses you back, matching your passion. One of your hands trail down his chest and the other tangles into his hair. You swivel your hips, grinding into him and he breaks the kiss, groaning deeply. 

"Baby, I'm serious, I really really need to pee. I've been holding it the whole way over here. It'll just take a second."

"How about…" You kiss his neck softly, trailing soft pecks up to his ear. "You just go right here."

You can hear Hyunjin's breath hitch in his throat as you kiss over his adam's apple. 

“I don't think.. that's a good idea." Hyunjin's voice is nearly a whisper. You grin slightly, is he turned on by the thought of that?

"Why not?" You grind against him, pressing your hips hard against his. "You have to go, right?"

A groan that fades into a deep moan passes his lips as he squeezes his eyes shut, his head falling back against the couch. You continue to kiss the soft skin of his neck. Biting softly and sucking a bit. Hyunjin takes a deep breath, trying to control himself. 

"I do.. but not here." You grind into him again, a deeper more pronounced moan leaves his parted lips and a small chuckle escapes you. 

"Come on." You pull away from his neck, peering deep into his unsure gaze. "It's fine. Just go ahead, right here."

You continue to grind into him, you can feel his cock hardening underneath you. Hyunjin's thigh muscles contract as he presses them together. You continue to grind into him. Small moans leaving your lips as you get more into it. Hyunjin’s brows knit together in uncertainty, the pleasure you're providing gradually making it more difficult to hold his bladder. 

"Angel.. I can't hold it, are you sure?" You nod, the soft fabric of your cotton shorts and the friction of his denim jeans causing a delicious ache to form between your thighs. 

"Go ahead." You coo softly as you rock into him. Hyunjin whimpers in response, his eyes still shut but the tension in his eyebrows softens little by little as he lets go. 

You can feel the wet warmth of him under you. You grind into him harder, the wetness of his urine meshing with the slick of your cunt. You lean down, attaching your lips to his hungrily. He kisses you back, hard and rough, your tongues fighting against each others. You feel as the warmth under you expands, soaking your shorts and seeping into the denim of his jeans. The imprint of Hyunjin's hard cock straining against the soaked fabric. You moan into the kiss as Hyunjin lets out a satisfied sigh, his cock twitching at the relief mixed with pleasure. 

"Feel better, baby?" You ask breathlessly against his lips. He moans in response, his hands gripping your hips as you rock against him. 

"You're filthy." He mumbles against your lips, smiling into the kiss. A breathy chuckle escapes you as you lightly bite his bottom lip, pulling at it a bit. 

"I am, aren't I?" You lean up, stripping your shirt off and throwing it to the side. "Let me show you just how filthy I am."

You move yourself off of his lap and sink down to your knees in front of him. Your eyes never leave his dark one's, he watches you carefully, hungrily. You reach for the button of his jeans swiftly undoing it and unzipping his pants. He lifts his hips to allow you access and you fight a bit to get the soaked fabric down his thighs. His jeans pool at his ankles and he steps out of them, leaving him in his soaked briefs. You shimmy them down just enough to have access to his cock and balls. A small moan leaves your lips as your forearm rests against the damp fabric of his briefs to stroke his dick. 

"Show me, angel." 

You lean up on your knees, sticking your tongue out of your mouth with a collection of spit waiting to drip from the tip of it. You dip your head down, licking up his member, collecting the taste of him and the mess that he made moments before. A pornographic moan leaves your lips as you reach the head of his cock, sucking on it briefly before pulling away with a trail of spit connecting you to him. 

"Fuck, baby, I'm a bit sensitive." You moan in response as you dip down to taste him again, Your tongue flat against the underside of his cock and swirling around the head before you take more of him into your mouth. The warmth of your mouth makes Hyunjins toes curl in pleasure.

“My filthy little angel.” Hyunjin coos at you, lacing his slender fingers into your hair and guiding you up and down his length. “You like tasting the mess I made? You like being soaked in my piss?”

You groan around his shaft, the vibrations of your throat sending chills up Hyunjins spine. You reach down between your legs and rub yourself over your piss soaked shorts. The wet fabric creates delicious friction against your bare core. You moan at the sensation as you continue to bob your head, taking him deeper down your throat each time. Using your free hand you start to pay attention to his balls, rubbing at the twin globes and covering them with the spit that dribbles down from the hilt of Hyunjins cock. You choke around him when he pushes your head down a bit, holding you there for a second to indulge in the way your throat contracts around him. 

“Oh, fuck you’re gonna make me cum.” You look up at him with your bright eyes. His brows are knitted together in pleasure as he watches you, teeth sunken into his bottom lip and his chest rising and falling quickly. 

You moan as you start to reach your peak as well, bucking against your own hand desperately. The cold and wet sensation of your urine soaked shorts serves as a delicious contrast to the burning in your belly. 

“Fuck, baby, I’m cumming.” You pull back from his cock, panting a bit as you move your hand from his balls to his shaft. You stroke him at the same pace that you were previously bobbing your head making sure to keep him on the edge.

 “Shit.” Hyunjin groans, his head falling back against the couch as he releases all over your hand. Him cum dripping down onto his soaked briefs. You reach your climax seconds after, squirting a bit and soaking your shorts all over again. 

You notice a bit of piss mixed arousal spurt up from his cock, falling against your hand and dripping down. Small moans fall from both of your lips as you come down from your high, your hips slowly rock into your hand, mixing the fluids that are responsible for your dripping shorts. You slowly stop stroking Hyunjin, a bead of mixed arousal escapes him before you let go of his member, allowing it to rest against his clothed stomach. 

“Fuck.” You whisper breathlessly as you rise from your knees. “You okay, baby?”

Hyunjin shakes his head, resting his hand over his chest. 

“That was fucking hot.” He chuckles, a small smirk pulling at his lips. You sit next to him and he turns his head to the side to gaze over at you. You smile back to him and glance down at his cum stained briefs. You take up a bit of his mixed arousal with two of your fingers, he watches as you bring them up to your mouth and taste it, sucking on your fingers like a lollipop. A low moan escapes you as the taste of him covers your tongue. Once you’re satisfied you release your fingers with a slight ‘pop’

“New kink unlocked”

[you-aint-gotta-pray-for-me]

Hell on Earth: Chapter 1

words: 2.7k

pairing: Steve Harrington x ex-friend!Henderson!reader (eventually romantic- could be called a slow burn I guess, but they're not together right now, there's some bad blood, just read it man I suck at summarizing T_T)

summary: Things do not seem normal in simple, down-to-earth town Hawkins, Indiana. With Will Byers missing, tensions rise while the mystery claims another victim.

timeline: set in season one right after Will goes missing

warnings: language, bending of canon, fic from reader's pov (3rd person will be there as well, will warn before a pov change if there is one)

a/n: hey guys! so, I see you have found the first part of Hell on Earth :) This is a Steve x reader, yes, I promise we will get there and it'll be awesome when we do, but as much as it is a reader insert Steve slash fic, this is also an actual Stranger Things spin-off story that I'm writing, meaning there will be a lot of focus on the actual plot along with steve and reader's relationship. Also yes, reader is Dustin's older sister.

Reader POV

Will Byers was the kind of kid you wouldn't know was missing until you looked for him. He didn't bother anybody, just kept to himself and his little group doing whatever it is kids these days do, you know? He was a simple, soft-spoken kid, the last person you would wish danger upon. So when I heard that he'd gone missing, I was as confused as I was worried.

"And he was with you when you cycled back home?"

"Yes, Jesus Christ (Y/n), for the millionth time. Yes."

"Don't get annoyed you little shit, I'm trying to help you here."

"Oh, excuse me for getting worried because my best friend is freaking missing."

"Dustin! Don't talk to your sister like that!" I heard Mom scream at us from the living room, oblivious to any context. I mean, he was right to get annoyed with me. His exasperated look at Mom's comment told me he thought the same thing. I just shook my head in understanding. What more can I do?

"Listen, I know you want to go looking for him, I would too, but you can't go on your own. I need you to promise me you won't go on your own, okay? Wait after school, and we'll go together."

"You get off school like two hours after I do, what am I supposed to do, sit and scream his name from my room and hope he shows up? Come on, man. That's bullsh-"

"Dustin."

"What?"

I stared at him, hoping my disapproving-but-concerned-older-sister look told him what he needed to hear. It did.

"Fine. 2 hours. A minute late and I'm going off on my own."

"Deal," I said, knowing full well that I'd have to ditch Algebra II. I wasn't complaining, though. Staring at a newly painted wall and waiting for it to dry would be more interesting than Algebra II.

Later that day

I had exactly 5 minutes to bolt before Algebra II started. I went to my locker and hurriedly rammed all my shit inside when I noticed my locker neighbor Barbara coming towards hers. We'd make conversation when we're at our lockers and smile and wave when we saw each other in the hallway. Outside of that, I didn't really know her all too well.

"Algebra II?"

"Nah, I'm ditching. I promised my brother I'd help him with some stuff."

"Lucky," she sighed. "I can't believe I need to sit through Mr Treeger's bullshit for 2 hours."

"You are welcome to join me if you'd like," I offered with a grin. "Algebra II can be soul-sucking."

"Thank you, really, but I can't leave Nancy hanging. Besides, we've got this thing later as well and, yeah, it's a whole thing, don't bother," she explained.

"Suit yourself, Barb." I shut my locker and almost left before I heard her voice again.

"I mean, if you need notes or anything, I could- uh- I could take them for you? If you want?" she said, almost like she wasn't sure I would take her up on her offer.

"I would love that, actually. Where do you live?"

"Uh, I think I’ll be at Steve’s party later. At the Harrington's. You know the place?" She shifted her books like they suddenly weighed too much. Her expression said she wasn't entirely looking forward to this.

Hearing Steve's name threw me slightly on edge. When you grow up with somebody and you fall out with them, you don't exactly forget things about them. I practically spent half my life at his house. I practically spent half my life with him. So, yes. I definitely knew the place.

"Y-yeah. I do"

"Great, I'll have it ready, then."

"Barb, you are literally an angel." I hurriedly gave her an impromptu hug and rushed outside to get to my car, where I saw Jonathan Byers handing out missing posters. His shoulders sagged under the weight of the stack in his hands and he looked like he hadn't slept in days. I can only imagine what he and Mrs Byers were going through.

I hesitated for a second before walking up to him. I knew Jonathan from Dustin hanging out with Will. We weren't close friends or anything, but someone had to say something. His hands trembled slightly as he stapled one of the posters onto the community board near the lot, his eyes darting nervously like he was waiting for Will to suddenly appear and tell him it was all a joke.

"Hey, Jonathan."

He flinched at my voice, turning to me with an exhausted half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Hey," he mumbled.

I nodded at the posters in his hands. "Any updates? Are the cops, like… actually doing anything?"

"They found his cycle a few minutes from Mirkwood. So that's... yeah. That's it, I guess?"

"What are they thinking?"

He hesitated, glancing down at the posters like he thought they might hold some kind of answer. "They think he might’ve run away, but that’s not Will. He wouldn’t just… leave."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, I don’t buy that either. Will’s not the type to just take off. He’s… dependable, you know?"

Jonathan looked at me for a moment, his expression softening just a little. "Thanks."

I shrugged, kicking at a loose rock on the ground. "For what? Telling the truth?"

"For… caring, I guess," he said, turning back to his work.

I watched him for a second longer, the weight of the whole situation sinking in deeper. "Let me know if you need help. With the posters or anything else."

Jonathan nodded, his focus back on the board. "Thanks," he said again, so quiet I almost missed it.

I didn’t know what else to say, so I just turned and walked back to my car, leaving him to keep stapling the same plea for help over and over.

I drove back home and Dustin was practically at the edge of his seat, looking like he was at the verge of explosion.

"What the hell took you so long?"

"Jesus Christ, I'm right on time. Give me a break."

He continued to yell at me about how time is of the essence. I held up a hand to calm him down. "Relax, I’m here now, aren’t I? Anyway, listen. They found some stuff near Mirkwood."

That got his attention. His eyes widened, his mouth snapping shut mid-rant. "What kind of stuff?"

I sat down across from him, leaning forward so Mom couldn’t overhear from the kitchen. "They found his bike. Just abandoned on the side of the road. No tracks, no clues, nothing else. It’s like he just… vanished."

Dustin’s face fell, his usual confident bravado cracking under the weight of what I’d just told him. "His bike?" he echoed, voice smaller now.

"Yeah. Cops are calling it ‘strange circumstances.’ I’m calling it suspicious as hell."

He nodded, jaw tightening as his brain started working overtime. "Okay. Okay, so that means he didn’t run away. Someone- or something- took him."

I flinched a little at how easily he jumped to "something." This was Hawkins. Strange wasn’t on the table.

"Dustin, don’t get carried away. Let’s stick to facts. We know where his bike was, and that’s it. But you promised me you wouldn’t do anything stupid, remember?"

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. "Fine. But we need to check it out. Together."

I sighed, knowing there was no talking him out of it. "Together. No sneaking off without me, got it?"

"Got it," he said, though I could tell from his tone he was already planning something.

A couple hours later

"So that was fucking useless."

"Dustin, come on. Don't be like that."

"We found nothing, (Y/n)! He's out there, probably being tortured for all we know, and we found literally nothing."

"Don't jump to conclusions. Yes, we don't know anything now. But we are not the only people looking. Okay?"

"I'm telling you. We should look for him right around when he went missing."

"No way I'm letting you go out there at 10 pm unsupervised. Mom would gut me."

"I won't be unsupervised if you're with me."

"Dustin," I sighed, slightly annoyed at how he wouldn't level with me at all. "Whatever happened to Will could be bigger than us. If it's something we can't handle, I don't want us to go all in with literally no information."

"Oh, come on! but-"

"No buts. Sit this one out. I am begging you. At least until we know something."

Even though he begrudgingly agreed, his words stuck with me. I hated the idea of him sneaking off on his own, but I also couldn’t shake the feeling that he was right. If there were answers out there, they wouldn’t come to us- we had to go to them. And if I knew Dustin at all, I knew exactly what that meant. He’d go anyway.

The only way for me to deal with this was to either find something before he did or supervise, just in case. And both those options required me to be out in the woods in the dead of the night. Perfect. I remembered that I had to stop by to see Barb so it won't all be for nothing.

The glow of streetlights flickered against the windshield as I pulled up to the Harringtons' house. The faint hum of music and muffled laughter carried through the warm night air, the telltale signs of a Steve Harrington classic. For a moment, I hesitated, fingers gripping the steering wheel. It had been a while since I’d set foot here, and it felt strange- nostalgic in a way that made my chest tight. I didn't like it.

I stepped out of the car and walked around the side of the house, avoiding the main door. I wasn’t here for the party, and I definitely wasn’t in the mood to exchange awkward hellos with people who probably didn’t even remember my name. Also, I might punch Tommy and Carol just because.

The backyard was bathed in the eerie blue glow of the pool lights. It was quieter here, the party sounds muffled by the distance. Sitting by the pool, her legs dangling lazily in the water, was Barb. She was hunched over slightly, fiddling with the strap of her watch, looking as out of place as I felt.

"Hey," I called softly, not wanting to startle her.

She looked up, her face lighting up with a small, relieved smile. "Oh, hey! You made it."

"Yeah," I said, walking over and sitting beside her on the cool concrete. "Figured I’d pick up those notes before your night gets too crazy," I said before I noticed her poorly bandaged hand bloody hand.

"Holy shit, you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's... nothing. I'm okay."

"Partied too hard?"

Barb scoffed, glancing over her shoulder at the house. "Yeah, not exactly my scene. Nancy’s inside with Steve. I’m just... taking a break."

I nodded, leaning back on my palms and staring at the pool. Nancy's inside with Steve. That didn't bother me at all. "Can’t say I blame you. These things get out of hand quickly," I said, slightly regretting my hand pun.

She laughed at my poorly timed joke and reached into her bag to pull out a neatly folded piece of paper. "Here you go. Sorry if it’s a little messy. Mr. Treeger was really on one today."

I took the notes with a grateful smile. "You’re the best, Barb. Seriously."

She waved it off like it was no big deal. "It’s nothing. So, what are you up to?"

I reached into my bag and pulled out a worn paperback with a cracked spine and dog-eared pages. "Actually, I thought you might need this more than I do right now," I said, handing Barb my copy of The Shining.

Her eyes lit up as she took it, carefully running her fingers over the cover. "No way. I’ve been wanting to read this forever."

"Well, now you’ve got no excuse. It’s a classic. Just don’t read it alone at night unless you want to start hearing creepy voices in your house."

Barb laughed, flipping through the pages. "Thanks, (Y/n). This is awesome. I’ll take good care of it, promise." She looked up at me, her expression softening. "This one your favorite? "

"It's my comfort book, honestly"

"The Shining is your comfort book?".

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it. Besides, no matter how bad my day is going, everyone in that book is having a much worse, more horrible day."

She laughed and looked at me with a smile extending far beyond her eyes. "But seriously, why do you always have the best recommendations? Like, do you just spend all your time reading?"

"I wouldn’t say all my time," I joked, leaning back and shrugging. "But books don’t talk back or ditch you for better plans. So they’ve got that going for them."

Barb chuckled, but her smile faltered slightly, and she hesitated before asking, "Speaking of people ditching... can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to."

I glanced at her, curious. "Shoot."

"What happened with you and Steve? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking. You two seemed really close back then"

I froze for a moment, caught off guard by the question. It wasn’t exactly something I loved to think about, let alone talk about. Barb’s expression wasn’t nosy or judgmental- just genuinely curious. I hesitated for a moment, debating whether to say anything. But Barb was easy to talk to, and I felt like I could trust her.

"It’s... complicated," I said, exhaling sharply. "Before his, you know, 'coronation', King Steve and I were best friends. We practically grew up together. You stick with someone throughout middle school and still want to hang out? That's true friendship, right there."

She nodded like she related to what I was saying. "High School came and he changed. He wanted to hang out less, which was fine with me, you know? People change and everything," I paused for a second.

"It got bad only after Tommy and Carol started hanging out with him. He became this mean jerk, this person I could barely recognize. And I never got along with Tommy or Carol from the beginning, he knew that from the million times I have told him that I hate their guts. Hell, I've directly said it to Tommy and Carol. I just... I guess you could say we both grew up and became distant or whatever, but the fact is, he's just a colossal asshole now.

Barb frowned, clutching the book tighter. "That sucks. I’m sorry."

I shrugged, trying to play it off. "It’s whatever. We’re not kids anymore, and I guess we just outgrew each other. Besides, I’m not exactly missing out on this." I gestured toward the house, where someone let out an ear-piercing whoop, followed by the unmistakable sound of something breaking.

Barb laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, I don’t think either of us belong here."

"Hey, misery loves company, right?" I teased, bumping her shoulder lightly.

She smiled, a little more at ease now, and held up the book. "Thanks for this. I mean it."

"Don’t mention it," I said, standing up and brushing off my jeans. "Enjoy the book- and maybe steer clear of the creepy twins in the hallway."

Barb laughed again as I started to head back to my car.

"You sure you don't need a lift? Your house isn't too far, I don't mind."

"Really, it's ok, (Y/n). I'll just go whenever Nancy leaves."

"It's almost midnight, Barb, you sure?"

"I am. I really am."

[eldritch-spouse]

I want to know how many monsters spend their paychecks at Gallon's bar crying because they developed feelings for Santi 💀

" I just... He's so amazing man. I don't even know why I'm crying, I don't deserve him. "

The latest sad sap cries onto his precious counter. Gallon circumvents them to give Fasma a shot of plain whiskey.

" You really don't. " He mumbles.

" H- Huh? "

" Nothing. Say champ, why not have another night with the hunk if you like him so much? " The bartender tilts his head, trying to cheer up the loser, or get them off his metaphorical nuts.

The monster sniffles, looking into the distance, where none other than the incubus is seen on his knees, hands on his thighs and tongue out as he apparently waits for a woman to squirt in his mouth while her hammered friends cheer her on. Gallon follows their gaze. Yeah, seems like a standard night for the resident manwhore.

" Just look at him, so radiant, so perfect. I don't want sex, dude- I want to love him! "

Fasma grimaces, definitely not because of the alcohol. He's seen Santi effortlessly do some of the dirtiest shit he could ever imagine, the thought of kissing those lips could send the old geezer into an early grave.

Gallon continues to work. " Oh boy. " He hopes this one makes a scene. It's a bit fun when they break down and throw a tantrum because the incubus won't give them the light of day unless they're putting out.

The depressed sod sniffles. " Do you think I have a chance? I... I have his phone number. "

Everyone and their mother has Santi's phone number. Maybe their father too.

Gallon grins creepily wide. " Suuure buddy, give it an honest shot. The worst he can say is no, right? " Fasma wordlessly shakes his head in disapproval of the slime's cruelty.

His client starts clumsily tip-tapping at their phone, likely typing something extensive and heartfelt, and now Gallon has to admit he's invested. If only because he knows how it'll end, and he likes to see the light fade from a hopeless romantic's eyes.

A phone eventually pings on the opposite corner of the counter, Santi's. It prompts the incubus to come over, still sucking the cuntjuice out of his fingers, some coating his chin. He doesn't bother to look around as he unlocks his device and squints at the notification. Gallon, Fasma and the client are eerily silent while he opens the text.

The incubus reads about the first three lines, frowns, then looks up. " Gallon, are you busy? "

" Uhh... Not any more than usual, why? "

The phone is slid his way. " Write me a rejection message here, please. I don't want this one coming back. "

And just like that, he turns back around, likely to see if any of the other girls can play with him too.

Gallon has to contain a maddening bark of laughter that is slowly turning him orange. He didn't even recognize the mess of a monster looking so hopefully at him from just across the counter. Oh that has got to sting!

He absolutely loses his cool and has to muffle his cackling when the monster in question wails brokenly and buries their head in their arms, sobbing like a dejected baby.

Fasma pats their back twice. They need that whiskey more than him.

[frostedshore]

I'm a sims 3 girlie and I'm gonna make a long post abt my experience as a NEW sims 2 player. I know nobody cares about this but this is my blog I can do whatever I want!!! And I wanna write appreciation for sims 2.

Ok so first of all, playing ts2 from ts3 is HARD. I underestimated sims 2. Before playing it, I already have prejudice that it will have less content than sims 3 & that the experience of playing sims 2 will be boring bc there is less lifetime goals, no traits, and less gameplay. And I was right. The first time I played sims 2, I found myself getting bored playing with Strangetown. My first gameplay was playing 1 rotation with all of sims 2 strangetown households & I thought to myself "damn i really have to force myself playing with so many households so everybody age up." I closed my game & think so myself "yep. I'm never gonna play sims 2 again." Don't get me wrong, the story of Strangetown is AWESOME. But the lack of gameplay makes me feel like i'm stuck with doing the same mundane tasks again and again for a week with every household (ex: making sure my sims got promoted, taking care of needs, socializing). I admit that going on dates are more fun in sims 2 but it isn't enough to hook me.

Tbh I can't play sims 4 bc it feels like dollhouse simulator. And sims 2 feels a little bit like dollhouse simulator too at first. The reason why I love the sims 3 so much is because of the sims 3 skill challenges. I love that if you play the guitar in 10 parties you will get a bigger tip every time you perform for tips in public. Or if you do an interaction for a certain amount you will get special perks. This is the same reason why I love playing stardew valley and feel so much joy when my character fall asleep & level up their farming/foraging/fishing & unlock new craftables/abilities/gameplay.

But then I tried giving sims 2 a second chance, and this time I play with open for business & this EP CHANGED MY LIFE. OFB is the best sims EP ever. The gameplay is SMOOTH & I've never felt so much joy from playing ANY sims games. It's so awesome bc we can make any business we want! And I eventually fall in love with sims 2 rotational gameplay when I do a BACC challenge & made my own hood with 4 founding families where each family have a role & businesses. Farmers in my hood own a grocery store & my restaurant owner buy his ingredients from them. I also make my 'mechanic' sim service sims, meaning that when I'm playing with another family & their plumbing broke, my mechanic sim (who also run a business where he restore junk cars) will come & fix their plumbing for them. Everyone's life is intertwined and they all need each other. My mayor sim also collect money from the households, and once the mayor have enough money to build a new park, the townies will have more places to visit. So I'm always motivated to make each rotation counts & tried to make as much money as possible.

After playing TS2, i'm not sure how I can go back to playing sims 3. Climbing the corporate ladder with sims 3 job now feels meaningless and sims 3 outings SUCKS. But I am still frustrated with the lack of gameplay sims 2 have compared to sims 3. I just want sims 2 to have all of sims 3 gameplay & it'll be my ultimate dream game😭 (yes now i prefer sims 2 graphics + rotational/aging system + loading screens + the freedom to decorate the hood + etc.) I just need sims 2 to have more skills, opportunities, skill challenges, interactions, and traits & I won't even look at any sims games that are being developed like paralives/inzoi😭 I really do think sims 2 found the formula for the perfect life simulator, but it's flawed. Anyways if you're a sims 3 girlie who only ever played sims 3, do give sims 2 a chance :D You won't regret it!

[tigergirltail]

TIGER HRT CHAPTER 4 - MONTH 3 - GROWING PAINS

First - Prev - Next

Everything hurts.

I started noticing it about two weeks after my first dose. It felt like a dull headache at first, but over the next month it spread to pretty much my entire body.

I had to start working from home, and eventually it got bad enough that I could only put in a few hours of work each day. My boss is a reasonable enough guy, but he wasn't going to pay a full time salary for part time hours, so I had to take a salary cut.

Luckily, my partner is around to take care of daily errands, not to mention being there to reassure and comfort me when the pain gets bad. They've been thinking about seeing if Lindwurm HRT is a thing, but they don't want to get the process started until I'm in the clear and can take care of myself again.

Gods I love them.

The reason the pain is happening, as best I can tell, is that my skeletal structure is already changing. I've gotten at least an inch taller, and my face has been reshaping into a feline muzzle. My teeth are getting sharper, and I'm developing proper fangs. I also noticed a little while ago that my fingernails and toenails had receded into their respective digits, which sucks for two reasons - I can't paint fingernails I don't have, and they are sore as HELL when I put any amount of pressure on them. I have to be REALLY careful with how I type to not inflict agony on myself. I'm also feeling my tail growing in, and even if it hurts, it's euphoric as HELL. A tail was always the part I wanted most out of this.

It's weird, the skeletal changes weren't supposed to happen this early. I've been trying to reach Dr. Erian about it, but he's constantly busy, probably because of the sudden surge of people looking for Humanity Removal Therapy.

Other than that, I've been getting areas of white and black fur coming in - mostly on my arms and legs, but a little bit on my face and ears - ears that are gradually reshaping and migrating. Nothing to report on hearing sensitivity, but I think my night vision is getting better.

I did a little bit of looking around for anyone with similar pain experiences. I got my hopes up when I found a girl, Antonina, who had a painful experience with Cat HRT, but it turns out it's because she took the rumoured Fifteen Minute version. She described the pain as "like bathing in an active volcano".

It leaves me wondering whether I would have preferred a 15-minute lava bath over a months-long full-body headache.

I ended up reaching out to her anyway, just because I wanted to know what I was in for in the endgame and feline HRT is rarer than I thought it would be. Sounds like the prey drive is the real deal - she keeps feeling the urge to bite this one girl who's on mouse HRT.

We've been spending some time comparing notes and getting to know each other. It's nice to know someone else who's going through this thing, even if our experiences aren't exactly one-to-one.

I also talked to my mother for the first time in nearly a year. I went No Contact with her a while back because she was only getting more obnoxious and combative about me being trans, but I figured changing my species is a big enough deal that I should keep her in the loop.

Besides, my savings had nearly dried up and I needed to ask her for money.

It… did not go well. She hadn't heard of therian HRT before, and once I explained it, she started panicking about how I'm "mutilating my body" with "untested treatments". I think I also heard her cry something about how her "son" is "killing himself", which is just multiple layers of insensitive.

At least she sent me some money. Hopefully it'll be enough to last until my transformation stops being agonizing and I can go back to work, and then I can go right back to pretending my family doesn't exist.

At roughly the three-month mark, I have a check-in video call with Dr. Erian. From the moment his face appears on screen, though, I can tell something is wrong. He seems… older, somehow.

"Hello, Miss Alexis.", he offers. He sounds tired. Sorrowful, even.

"Hey, doc." I have to ask about it. "Everything okay? You seem a bit tired."

"Nothing to worry about Miss Alexis, just the ordinary stresses of daily life."

Liar. I know I'm not entitled to details of your personal life, much less your professional secrets, but I know when something is eating at someone.

"…Does the word 'crossroads' mean anything to you, Miss Alexis?"

Huh? That came a bit out of left field. "I've… heard some other therian HRT patients use the term, but I don't know much of the details. Something about a point of no return?"

"Something of the sort." He lowers his head and seems to go from sorrowful to downright grim. "There will come a time, Miss Alexis, when you will have to make a very important decision in your care, and I ask that you do so with great consideration for the consequences."

I recoil a little in my seat. "Yeah… Of course I will. Any decision I make, even reaching out to you in the first place, I don't take it lightly."

"Good… That's good." His demeanor shifts back to his stoic, clinical self. I don't know what just happened, but he went somewhere for a moment there.

"Now then, I did receive your messages, I apologize for not getting back to you. You mentioned you were experiencing persistent and debilitating whole-body soreness?"

"Yeah. I can't even leave the apartment most days, it hurts so much."

"Odd… You are taking the treatment as directed, yes?"

"Of course. One tablespoon a week, just like it says on the bottle."

I see his eyes twitch behind his glasses. Did I say something wrong?

"…Teaspoon."

I cock my head to the side. "Say again?"

"You mean one TEASPOON a week, yes?"

I feel my heart sink. The dark smear on the dosage information… I could have sworn it said '1 tbsp/week'.

"…Could you hold on a second please?" I mute the mic and call out to my partner to bring the bottle of tiger HRT over. When they do, I unmute and hold it up to the webcam. I hear Dr. Erian take a sharp intake of breath as he notices the obscured instructions.

I set the bottle aside and the two of us share an awkward silence.

"So…", I begin. "…How bad is it?"

"The good news", he offers slowly, "is that you have only been taking three times the prescribed dose. An increased dose imbalances the growth rate of the different parts of your body, hence your pain and persistent weakness, but it could have been much worse."

I think back to the so-called Fifteen Minute version, and Antonina's description of it - like bathing in an active volcano.

Dr. Erian continues. "Assuming you return to a CORRECT dose, your growth rates will gradually level out over the course of the next month or so. It is my medical opinion that you should maintain a low-activity lifestyle until then, but you will eventually be able to return to your typical activity level, and you will also find that the physical effects become more… consistent."

"That's… reassuring. Thank you, doctor." I pause. Something I noticed a little while ago has been weighing on my mind. "There's one thing, though - do the treatments have… I guess you'd call them restorative or regenerative effects? I've noticed some old wounds aren't there anymore."

The doctor clicks his pen and brings up his notepad. "Interesting. Do go on, Miss Alexis."

"Well… I used to get lower back pain from a car crash injury I got a little over a year ago, but I haven't noticed it at all lately. Pretty much the only part that DOESN'T hurt… There also used to be some marks on my arm from a cat biting me when I was little." I give a slight smile. "The cat's name was Tiger, go figure."

Dr. Erian is writing the whole time I'm talking. "Yes, that is to be expected. Minor persistent injuries will fade over time as your body re-forms itself to a new baseline, even severe chronic symptoms may fade. If there are no other concerns…"

"Just one… Most of the other therian HRT patients I've talked to have gotten their meds as pills, so what's with the potion bottle?"

Dr. Erian pauses, and adjusts his glasses nervously, as if he's been caught out on something he doesn't want to admit to. "Well… advances in the field are occurring rapidly, and you are one of the more recent patients, so a more… streamlined option was available to you. I took the liberty of choosing the most compatible option based on your medical records, and that bottle is it."

"Okay… But what's IN it?"

"The active ingredients are antihominidone, which is your humanity-blocker, and a specialized formula of felistrogen, infused with white tiger genetic material. The rest of the fluid is a suspension used to dilute the effects, without which you would be looking at a short, but excruciating and potentially lethal process."

The Fifteen Minute version, I think to myself. I'm taking diluted Fifteen Minute meds. There's no WAY this isn't experimental, and I'M the experiment. I despise saying it, but maybe my mother was right to worry.

"But I'm afraid I really do have to go, Miss Alexis, my next appointment is waiting."

"G-gotcha. See ya, doctor."

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Special thanks to @paintedbytosia for letting me write her in, and shoutout to @megamoonerjenny for coming up with 'antihominidone'