#jae fic

[tangylemonade]

TWO

Eaj (boyfriend AU) x afab reader

18+ MINORS DNI (istg 🫵🏾 ಠ_ಠ if I catch you)

Word count: 2.2k

꧁ ☂︎ ⚠︎(smut) w/ f ☁︎(fluff) ꧂

Warnings: unprotected sex (don't forget the casing before you stuff your sausage)

To the anon that requested this I am so very sorry for the extreme delay. I was super busy and honestly I've not been writing much. I hope that if you read this you enjoy it even if only a little ♥️

Tick…tick…tick.

Time passed as slowly as the molasses you poured into your cookie batter. Warmth radiated from the oven but you still felt cold in your sweats. Feeling lazy, you hadn't changed from this morning. You only recently pushed past the unwavering exhaustion to eat a quick dinner and make you and your lover a treat. Cookies in the oven, you started on some tea.

“Ah shit,” you whispered to yourself quickly bringing your finger to your mouth in an attempt to soothe the ache.

Your dry eyes blinked as your thoughts wandered, and you lowered the heat while continuing to stir the bubbling beverage. Even though it was only 8 o'clock, the week had worn you out, leaving your head feeling heavier than ever. Taking your tea off the burner you checked the weather again and re-read Jae’s last messages.

Jae-Jae <3 ~

*This bug screwed us over.* - 6:34 pm

*we're gonna eat dinner here* - 6:45

*be home in an hour xoxo* - 7:23 pm

Jae had gotten up before you, having been called into work on a weekend due to a coding issue that you were too sleepy to fully understand when he tried to explain it to you. Your brows furrowed as you checked your watch for the hundredth time. Anxiously you checked outside the window as the gentle snowflakes that were fluttering down picked up speed.

Absent-mindedly, you went to fetch two mugs, running your slightly stinging fingers under some cold water as you rinsed them. Your two cats, Peanut and Butter, brushed against your legs, longing for attention and a taste of what you were preparing.

Carefully dodging the felines under your feet you placed the now steaming mugs on a tray before rushing to take out the cookies.

Perfectly golden and prettily plated, you set the cookies on the tray before cleaning up after yourself and heading to take a quick shower.

Refreshed yet somehow colder you nabbed one of your boyfriends sweaters before grabbing your phone to check your messages once again.

Beep! Beep! The sound of an incorrect password reached your ears before you could unlock your phone, followed by the exasperated swear of your lover. With a laugh, you unlocked and opened the door, quickly throwing yourself into his arms. He stumbled back slightly, his arm instinctively wrapping around you. The cold wind lashed at your skin through his sweater and your thin house clothes, but you hardly cared.

“Baby, it’s freezing. Let me get inside,” he said.

Your body warmed to the wistfulness in his voice as he squeezed you tightly and peppered your head and cheeks with his cold lips.

“You took soooo long,” you whined, waddling together back into the house. “I was soooo bored!”

“I thought you were going to catch up on some sleep,” Jae replied, using the few seconds you were willing to let him go to remove his coat and hang it in the closet. You reached up and pulled off his hat, dusting the snowflakes from it.

“Turns out I couldn’t sleep without you,” you said as you pulled him back into your embrace. “My poor baby, you’re freezing!”

“I just barely beat the snow. I feel bad for anyone who works further away than I do, the highway is already getting icy.”

“ I can’t believe they called you guys in on a weekend and in this weather, no less.”

“Assholes. And it was a mistake on their end.”

He gave you a tighter squeeze. “But enough about them… you smell so amazing… and warm.”

He tightened his grip again, pulling giggles from you as his cold cheek pressed against your neck, seeking warmth.

“I made cookies and tea,” you said proudly, pulling back to look at him. The bags under his eyes were heavy, but his smile still lit up his face as he gazed at you.

“I’m going to go shower,” he said, trying to pry your arms from around him.

“Wait.” You pouted.

He chuckled. “I’ll be back, and then we can relax.”

“Hurry.”

“Hurrying.”

You lived together and saw each other often, but your free time was limited. It felt like forever since you had hugged him like that. With one of you working overtime while the other left early, your daily life felt empty whenever you found yourself without each other.

Sitting in thought you blew on your tea between sips, the mug warming your cold numbed hands. Your thoughts filled with him like oxygen filled your lungs, and the warmth of the tea filled your chest.

Through the ups and downs of life, like a raft you kept each other above the floods of burn outs and constant burdens. You relied on those soft moments with Jae to help you heal from the exhausting weeks that crowded your schedules.

Jae laid his head on your lap, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Your hair is still a bit wet, love,” you giggled.

“I couldn't keep waiting,” he replied, turning to bury his face into your belly, causing his glasses to slip askew. You took them off for him and placed them on the coffee table.

Picking up a cookie you gave him a bite before taking one yourself. Warm in chewy you savored the sweet taste on your tongue. His hand reached up, popping the last bite of cookie into his mouth.

Jaes hands snaked around your waist, tickling your sides.

“What the heck, Jae?” you laughed, trying not to spill your drink.

His response was the delightful sound of his laughter as he sat up and took your mug from you.

He took a long sip before nodding his head in approval. “This is also very good.”

“Yours is right there.” You reached for your mug, but he pulled it away.

“Nah, yours tastes better.”

“They're exactly the same,” you said, rolling your eyes but still smiling.

“Impossible.”

“And why is that?” Your eyebrow quirked in response to his change of tone.

“Because yours tastes like you.” His eyes tracked your lips as you licked them.

“Well, then why drink that when you can get a taste from the source?” you said with a tilt of your head.

It felt so good to banter with him like this. The butterflies in your stomach danced warmly and familiar as you watched him put down the mug and turn back to you. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you to him, your legs settling around him as you comfortably fell into his lap.

Holding his face, your lips hovered close together, buzzing with joy just to be near each other.

“Gosh, I missed you,” you whispered against his lips.

Jae's lips brushed softly against yours, a gentle knock at your body's door. His fingertips sent chills across your skin as his caresses moved up your thighs to your hips, sliding beneath your shirt, and to your back. Your skin flexed and relaxed under his touch.

Your thighs squeezed around him, as your body craved more.

You pulled at his shirt and he chuckled softly against your neck, his hands gently gripping your arms to pause your desperate motions.

Jae pulled off his shirt before removing his sweater from your body along with your shirt. With flushed cheeks and blown pupils you watched his eyes devour you. Your chest heaved as Jae’s hands began once again to caress you, his mouth leaving hungry bites against your burning body. The grinding of hips came naturally as you both desperately desired the next portion of the intimacy you missed.

Throwing your head back you shut your eyes and allowed your other senses to enjoy the moment. Open-mouth kisses and gasps filled your ears, the smell of his body wash and freshly baked cookies, the warmth of his body radiating into you in electrifying ecstasy.

“Honestly,” Jae said between kisses, “my back hurts way too much to continue this on the couch.”

Your laughter broke the kiss and almost made you fall off his lap, but he caught you with hands wrapped securely around you.

“Sorry,” he said, holding your skin flush against his, hearts beating in sync.

“No worries.” You stood up, intertwining your fingers with his as you pulled him up with you. “Besides, I don’t like it when the cats watch us; it feels weird.”

Jae laughed, the sound light and infectious, as he followed you into the dimly lit hallway. “You know they don’t even care, right? They just want to be around us.”

You shook your head. “I don't know. It feels like they’re watching too intently.”

“Sorry Peanut and Butter.” Jae whispered, shutting the door quickly behind you two, locking the perverts out and only leaving behind their meows of protests.

You stretched out on the bed, heart racing with excitement.

Leaning against the doorframe Jae grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he watched your body in full.

“Now I see where the cats get it from.” You laughed.

With your finger you beckoned him closer. “Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna join me?

Seductively you slipped your thumbs into the sides of your shorts, catching your underwear as well, as you began to shimmy a little and pull them both off.

With a single, smooth motion, Jae closed the distance between you, his hands gliding up your thighs and grabbing your hands, igniting every nerve in your body. "That's my job," he whispered, breath warm against your ear.

His hands gripped your waist, his eyes roaming over you and drinking in your form up close in the low light of your shared bedroom.

You watched as his tired eyes darkened, arousing desire reflecting in them as he dipped down and captured your lips in a searing kiss. Jae’s hands roamed lower, exploring the curve of your hips before slipping underneath your shorts. His fingers brushed slender and electric against your delicate bud. His lips hungrily swallowed your gasps as the skill of his touch sent waves of pleasure rippling through you.

"God, I missed you all day." he groaned as he pulled back just enough to drink you in once again. The sight of you, vulnerable and eager, sent his senses into a frenzy.

Your own hands took the opportunity with him raised above you to roam along his chest and down to his waistband. Unsanctimoniously you grabbed him as you pushed on his waistband and pulled at his cock, freeing him from the confines of his clothing.

Jae let out a shaky breath, his eyes rolling back slightly at your touch.

Feeling restless and ready you whined as he slowly pulled down your shorts and underwear, kicking them off the rest of the way.

“Jae… the day was far too long for you to be playing around,” you complained as he pulled your hands away from him pinning them above you.

He chuckles at your neediness before letting go of your wrist and sitting up.

Jae's fingers trailed down your body before settling on your waist and pulling you towards him. Gripping your hips, he pushed into you and scattered stars into your vision.

Every thrust sent fireworks through your vision but that didn't stop you from trying to take in the look of pure ecstasy on his face when Jae felt your walls squeeze around him.

You could feel the tension building between you, a delicious pressure that promised a long overdue release. One hand reached for your clit, nearly throwing you over the edge as your bodies collided against each other. Normally you would hold out longer but your head was already spinning.

“Cum for me baby.” The low whisper of his voice was enough to set you spiraling as your body shook and your walls fluttered and squeezed his cock.

“Just like that,” he encouraged, his voice thick with desire, urging you on. You could feel him deep within you, every movement sending you higher into your orgasm. The sensations were intoxicating, and you surrendered completely, allowing the moment to consume you, your senses bursting in a kaleidoscope of pleasure. You felt him soon after, his hot seed spilling atop your chest as you tried to catch your breath.

Looking up you watched him in the glow of the city lights from your window. His eyes fixed on yours, your hearts still racing and bodies glistening with sweat.

"Let's take care of you," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. He disentangled himself from you before retrieving a warm, damp cloth. After cleaning up, he returned the cloth to the bathroom and flopped back into bed next to you.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, you curled into him. With the covers pulled up to your ears, you let the warmth of his body envelop you, completely cocooning yourself in the moment. Jae's arms snaked around you, his nose burrowing into the crook of your neck as he pulled you impossibly close. Your bodies lay skin to skin, the quietness of the cold night embracing you and pulling you into sleep's welcoming arms.

THANK YOU FOR READING 😊

If you want more from me CLICK HERE

[floredaqueen]

I was so serious when I said I wanted to draw them shirtless!(WIP) Fic writers I'm counting on you to make headcanons out of this lol♡♡

[cigsaftsx]

TWICE THE FALL

nam-gyu x f!reader

Synopsis: The games came to an end when the majority vote went to X after the mingle game. Your time in the game had been a tricky one — teamed with Thanos and his crew. Despite you voting O, you soon came to realise that being home was better than there, with those people - your life on the line. You had no intention of seeing anyone from there again. Not till one night, you go out with your friends clubbing. Familiar faces set off a feeling you didn’t realise you had.

Warnings drug use, threats, mentions of blood & violence, SMUT!!!!!, f1ngering, dry humping, minors do not interact. +18!!!!!!!!

Adjusting to real life was harder than you anticipated. Though you had only spent at least 4 days in the game, you grew accustomed to it quickly. The concept of your life on the line had been normalised - especially in your group. Thanos, Namgyu — the rest, but they were the worst. Not that they ever tried anything harmful — not toward you, but witnessing them doing that to other people with batting an eye? It set you up in a constant paranoia. So after the mingle game, the vote won to leave. It was strange really. An excitement had grew in you at the idea of coming home - till you remembered there wasn’t much to come back to.

You’d been home now for at least a month.

In the quiet.

You were finding it hard to adjust to the idea of not being afraid all the time. Not having to life your life on the edge — not having to flinch like you did whenever Thanos would shout something absurd down your ear. You hadn’t even socialised. Hadn’t hardly left the house unless it was to work. You realised you’d actually felt more when you were in the game.

That was enough for you to try and kick your own ass back to reality.

You called a friend that same day at the consequence of an ear full from her. Invading questions about where you had been, why you hadn’t been in touch. You made up a lame excuse, knowing they wouldn’t believe you even if you tried. You didn’t want to risk loosing your friends on the outside. The risk of looking insane.

You were sure every one else you met in the game had decided to keep it quiet too.

She invited you to the club that night with the rest of the friend group. You took some convincing but in the end you could hardly resist the urge for a drink - to unwind. So you join them.

The club is bouncing. The vibrations of loud electronic and dance music thrumming into your ears like a drill. You didn’t mind it - in fact after a few drinks you found yourself truly relaxing into it. It reminded you of old times, your old self. Your friends stuck in a group — by the bar as they barked everyone’s drink order over the loud music.

“And then I told him to fuck off!” Your friend shouts over the music to you before you both crumble into a synced laugh - gripping each other. She had a lot to catch you up on - life, work, boy drama.

“Fuck!” You shout, wiping a laughed out tear from the corner of your eye. “I missed this, missed you guys.” You say, softly bouncing your body to the beating music. She grips your forearm, squeezing.

“And to think you weren’t gonna come tonight! Tonight’s a big fucking deal!” She replies, and you process her words - your smile still remaining though. Why was tonight such a big deal? You only stare at her expectingly. She stares back until she realises you don’t know what she’s talking about.

Her mount falls open, a shocked laugh barking it’s way out and into your face.

“Shit! Dannie didn’t tell you?”

You just laugh, shaking your head.

She presses her lips together as if she can’t wait any longer to tell you - her eyes lighting up.

“So you don’t know who’s coming here tonight?” She shouts - the suspense of her reply very slowly starting to agitate you. You’re impatient like that. “Everyone knows! Why’d you think it’s so fucking packed in here?” She shouts again, laughing at you now - signalling around the room to the hordes of dancing people. You did think it was busy for a Thursday night. You can’t help the growing twitch in your smile — irritated.

You take ahold of her hand and squeeze it softly, lowering your head a little closer to her so you don’t have to shout over the music.

“Spit it out.” You say, still amused but your annoyance evidential on the last word.

“Thanos!”

You freeze, your grin stuck in position on your face. She takes your unexcited response and thinks you’re unsure as to who that is. How wrong she is.

“The Thanos? The rapper?” She says, her words intending to re jog your memory.

Your heart leaps a little before it comes crashing down into the pit of your stomach. Suddenly feeling small despite the size of the room — like the walls are sinking in and swallowing you whole. Absolute dread. Your friends bats her eyes at you, confused by your silence.

“Y/n. Don’t tell me you don’t know him — he’s a celebrity.” Her tones faded a little, completely dumbfounded.

A hitch in your breath stalls your reply — blinking yourself back into the room, forcing yourself to smile more - not wanting to look weird. To make her question you.

“Oh!” Is all you can manage, your impending apprehension not allowing you to form a normal human response. You hadn’t even heard of Thanos before the games - though you put two and two together when he would burst out into a random rap to woo you. Your impression on him strictly based off what you saw in the games. Nothing good. Yes, he protected you — he stuck by that, but it didn’t matter much. You’d seen everyone else get the brunt of his and Namgyu’s insanity.

Your friend furrows her brows despite her wide smile. She goes to speak before her head flips left, drawn to the sudden crowding and loud excitement by the entrance of the club.

“Oh my god.” She says bluntly, her head turning to you before turning back to the crowd.

“It’s him!” She squeals loudly, catching your wrist in a vice like grip. “Come with me — if you don’t know him then at least you can get a picture of me and him for me!” You’re quick to protest but she’s quicker - yanking you toward the crowd with her.

As you get closer, so does your anxiety. Snapping down onto you with it’s jaws — a churning in your stomach so sickening that you swear you could throw it up. You want to yank your wrist away - run home and forget everything. Forget the games - Thanos. You came out to drink and forget yet here you are, your friend hurdling you both toward the nightmare you wanted to so badly forget.

She forces your bodies through the crowd until you come to an abrupt halt at the inner circle - jolting your body to a stop.

And there he is. Surrounded by a bodyguard or two, his arm lazyily slung around a girl that clings to his waist like an accessory. His expression smug at the people begging for photographs — pleading for his number, his autograph. He always loved the attention you remember. His hairs still the same you note - wearing an oversized purple graphic tee - jeans, some loose chains and that dammed fucking cross.

Still hanging from his neck like a palace jewel.

You almost choke on the breath you try to take. Unable to stabilise your unease which only worsens as you stare at him. You want to leave.

But the insecurity of disappointing your friend & your alarm towards him keeps your feet glued to the spot. Maybe if you stay still enough, he won’t spot you. That is until your friends lunges toward him - her hands clutching onto his arm. Now feeling more sick that you had originally.

You can’t hear what she’s saying to him over the obnoxious volume of music, you’re almost grateful for that. You shift your feet then slightly - regaining movement in them when you see he’s too occupied talking to your friend. You want to take the chance to disappear till you feel a set of eyes burning into you - but it isn’t Thanos’.

Your eyes simply slip to the right of Thanos and next to him stood Namgyu. His eyes pinned to you. You instantly feel like you’ve been caught red handed for a crime you didn’t commit - the intensity of his stare and the surprise of not expecting him causing your mouth to fall agape.

As if the situation couldn’t get any worse. It just did.

Despite Thanos’ obvious insanity - Namgyu was just as cold. The strong and silent type. You feared him more. He’s dressed in all black - long sleeves rolled up to his elbows which reveal his tattoos - a tiny chain looping his neck, a myriad of rings shared between his fingers. His hairs the same too - neatly tucked behind his ears.

It almost scares you how casual they look. Any average person wouldn’t assume their capabilities and you felt alone knowing their true selves. How easy it had been for them to take a life to save their own.

You’re unable to look away - like his eyes had their own gravitational pull. You just return his stare - like you’re pleading with him with your wide eyes to ever forget he saw you. A silent interaction. You should’ve known better than to expect him to actually do you a favour.

His stare stays on you as he leans up into Thanos’ ear, seeing him mutter something. At the same time, your friend shoves her phone into your hands.

“Is it cool if my friends takes a photo of us?” She beams at him, returning back to his side — Thanos’ eyes finally acknowledging you as soon as Namgyu pulls back.

“This your friend?” Thanos shouts over the music to your friend, bending his arm upward to point a lazy finger at you. A soft smirk cranks the corner of his lip upward.

You want the ground to swallow you up.

You want to disappear.

You simply clutch onto her phone tightly like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

Your friends expression fades seeing his attention go to you but she’s quick at working to reclaim it - taking his arm in her hold again.

“Yeah — she’s gonna snap a pic for me.” She says, before turning to you and posing. Thanos doesn’t even bother to pose — his sights still boring through your eyes and into your fucking soul. Namgyu’s staring at you with an expecting stare - almost waiting for you to make a move - intrigued to see if you can keep your cool around her.

His eyes almost daring you to kick up a fuss and expose them for what they really are.

You’re absent minded as you point the phone and spam your thumb on the camera button — taking enough photos so that your friend wouldn’t bother you to take a few more. A second later your friends leaping up slightly and clapping before snatching her phone of you and turning to him in thanks.

The music drowns out all sound as you take a step backward. Their sights on you still - almost threateningly. But you had no interest in sticking around. Your backward steps leave room for people to push their way in front of you - and a second later they’re out of your sight.

You rush to the bathroom.

Finding solace in the end stall as you try to steady your now panicked breathing. It’s like every memory of the game came rushing back within a second — completely overwhelming you. Images of blood — bodies, drugs.

“Fuck.” You hiss, noticing the tremble in your hands as you clutch them together. Maybe you hadn’t realised how badly the games had impacted you — but what made you feel sick above all things, the one thing that worried you to your core?

You found a comfort in their presence.

Maybe it’s a trauma thing.

Maybe not. You didn’t know. But one thing you did know is that you had to calm the fuck down. You suck in a harsh, deep breath and steady yourself.

You couldn’t let them ruin the debut of your new life.

Not even a second later, you’re storming through the dancing crowds - not bothering to notice that the crowd around the pair had died down as everyone went back to their dancing. You had no sights on your friends — probably deep into the club, enjoying themselves as they should. You hit the bar hands first, grabbing the counter as you lean to ask for a shot.

The bartender nods once and prepares it.

You don’t even realise how hard you’re gripping the bar side - your knuckles white - determined to get a drink down your neck and join your friends.

The shots placed in front of you and you instinctively stick out your card to pay but the bartender puts his hands up.

“It’s paid for.” Is all he says with a smile before heading down to serve the next person.

You watch him as he walks away, confused. Yet your questioning is instantly put to rest as you catch the colour purple out the corner of your eye. You don’t even bother to look. If you do, it just makes it real. You pick up the shot bravely and chuck it back, feeling the warm bitterness slide down your throat - you hiss softly, placing the glass down.

“Good?” Thanos’ voice cuts through the music. You decide to treat his question like a passing breeze - completely ignoring it - but not before shooting him a hard stare. He looks at you, helplessly amused by your coldness. You turn your head away and don’t even get two steps before you bump into Namgyu’s chest. His hands instantly find your shoulders, caressing them up and down condescendingly.

“Woah, woah. What’s the rush?” Namgyu says, expression blank as he crowds you - giving you nowhere to go but to step backward and sit back into the bar stool next to Thanos with a thump - back pressing into the hard wood of the bar behind you. You peer up at him, brows furrowed in defeat. You don’t keep your eyes on him for long though. Normally he doesn’t do the talking - so you look to your side at Thanos. He’s staring at you with upturned brows in exaggerated disappointment.

You simply glare and wait.

“Now this isn’t any way to treat your friends, is it?” He finally says, pitifully offended.

You decide not to reply to the obscure question. The three of you were hardly friends, then again - in his twisted mind, he probably thought you were. You just want to go. Your patience already warning thin.

You scowl, gathering all your confidence as you look away and go to stand but Namgyu clamps a hand down on your shoulder — his free hand flicking open a switchblade just inches from your face. A little closer and it would’ve trimmed your eyelashes. It’s a silent threat — your eyes landing on it as it’s metal winks sweetly at you in the clubs purple hues.

Your eyes scatter across the club — instantly hoping someone would notice your predicament. People just dance, sloppily fallen into one another — too intoxicated to even bat an eye. A soft huff leaves your nose — defeated before you look back to the knife, then to Namgyu who’s now smiling cockily at you.

“You gonna play nice?” Namgyu remarks, and gives you a moment to contemplate your next move. You could try and leave again - but you’re smarter than that. A knife in your back would be the equivalent of someone being passed out drunk here. He feels you settle back into the bar stool and takes your silence as obedience.

His smile splits wider, a little hum - pleased, erupting from his throat. He gives your cheek a little squeeze which makes you make a displeased noise as you yank your face out his grip. He’s flicking the knife away and pocketing it the next second.

Your eyes shut in brief relief.

“Y/n.”

Thanos’ voice comes again, pleading out your name to grab your proper attention this time. You realise you can’t exactly work your way out of this — so you give in, for now. You turn your head to him, your eyes opening.

“Answer my question, please.” He whines out, his tone hitting your ears in all the wrong ways.

You lock your jaw at him - your facial muscles visibly flexing from the intensity of irritation.

“We’re not friends.” Is all you reply with. You swear you see a glint of disappointment in his eyes.

He sighs softly, expelling it through his nose as he cranes his head over his shoulder and holds up three fingers to the bartender. Your eyes flicker back to Namgyu, his expression still cocky. You swallow hard — unable to resist mentally noting how good he looked. The thought didn’t last long though as you feel Thanos spin the base of your chair around to face the bar - your hands falling flat against the wood to stabilise the spinny chair.

You watch the bartender pour three shots. Colourful ones. Very in character to Thanos. You gulp hard, eyes flickering to Thanos who’s already smiling at you. You feel Namgyu shift to lean against the bar to the right of you - one forearm against the bar, his other hand holding the back of your chair - now sandwiched in between them both.

“Señorita.” Thanos says quirkily, taking a shot and holding it out to you. You consider it a second too long before he’s already shoving it into your hand - some spilling over the tip of the glass and over your fingers from the force of it. You grimace. He takes his own then, Namgyu following suit.

You stare down, trying to piece together exactly what their play is here. You already considered intimidation, but now Thanos is buying you drinks - which you don’t mind all that much. Drink is drink, but still.

Reluctantly, you’re first to shot it. You hear Namgyu and Thanos doing the same then, their glasses hitting the bar a second later.

You side eye Thanos, watching him take a second to recover from the shot as he sucks in a breath between clenched teeth. Were you done? Could you go now?

“Okay.” He breathes out, looking to you and offering you a smile before he stands up out the chair. You can’t even look up at him before he’s clamping his hand around your upper arm - yanking you out the seat.

“We’re gonna find somewhere a little more private.” He says, leaning down to whisper that to you - his grip on you implying a lingering threat.

“Kay?”

You simply glare up at him. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Thanos sticks his bottom lip out, “Don’t worry, Namgyu’s coming too.” he says, lifting his chin to point toward Namgyu who’s behind you.

“I got weed too.” You hear Namgyu say behind you, chirping up. You keep your narrowed eyes up at Thanos.

“See? He’s got weed too.” Thanos says characteristically, as though Namgyu having weed would somehow sway you into going. You scoff in his face.

“I said no.”

Thanos doesn’t take his eyes off you as Namgyu shifts behind you. You feel him place his hand on your back which causes you to freeze up.

“Relax,” Namgyu says, drawling out the word slowly, his hand stroking your back up and down as though to reassure you. You shoot your eyes to him - he’s smiling slightly, though you could see the wickedness peeking through his eyes. That was the thing with them two. The pair mask themselves too well - any normal person would assume they were caring, thoughtful even. But you knew every smile they give you, every seemingly innocent touch - like Namgyu’s hand on your back - was laced with threat and intimidation.

“We need to talk, okay?” Namgyu continues, and despite his tone lingering on the edge of mockery, you can believe that he means what he says. He’s much better at conveying things than Thanos who’s completely drugged out of his mind. You look back to Thanos.

He gives you a boyish, hopeful smile.

You sigh, dropping your shoulders. The quicker you agree and have that talk, the quicker it’ll be over and done with.

“Okay.” You agree.

The pair hasn’t split from you the entire way to a quiet room. Thanos’ hand on your wrist pulling you along. Namgyu’s hand flat against the middle of your back, enticing you forward. You had forgotten Namgyu had been a promoter at this club - which meant he knew all the right people, all the right quiet spots. Thanos shoots his head over and beckons Namgyu to go ahead and open the door, which he does - always the obedient type when it came to his good friend.

It wasn’t anything special. Two couches - a bar rack or two, a few beer kegs lying around with a tv up on the wall. Looked like a bougie staff room. Thanos beckons his hand toward one of the couches, so you do just that. You sink into it - surprised by its comfiness despite your inability to relax when you see Namgyu lock the door. They join you not a second after, the pair sitting next to each other on the couch directly opposite you.

It’s quiet between the three of you. Only the vague thrumming of the music outside which is now numbed by the walls of the staff room. Thanos still mindlessly thumps his head to the beat of it though.

“Y/n,” Thanos breaks the silence with your name, leaning forward in his chair - it’s leather creaking loudly under his movement.

“Do you believe in divine intervention?”

Namgyu already rolls his eyes at him, now sinking into the seat and pinching the skin on the bridge of his nose. Looking like he’s heard this a thousand times before — like he’s way too tired to call bullshit. Thanos is the open minded type. Namgyu, not so much.

You’re alike with Namgyu in that way, which is apparent as you snort a laugh at Thanos.

“What — like, a higher power?” You say slowly, amused — your mind wondering ahead as you try to figure out where he’s going with this ridiculous approach. Thanos smiles slowly, nodding his head, “Exactly.”

“I’ve been looking for you. The rest of our group too — wanted to rekindle on the outside, you know? And here you are.” He beckons his hands out toward you, giddy. You simply quirk a brow.

“Divine intervention. Fascinating, right?”

You cut him off with ease, “Drop the act. You just want to intimidate us into not running our mouths.”

His mouth stills, open. Your reply catching Namgyu’s attention as he slowly pulls his fingers from his face, eyes locking onto you. Your eyes dart between them both - you had no time for his lies or manipulation. He’s trying to sweeten you up - thinking you’re stupid enough to believe his crap. You want them to know that you know their game, and that you won’t be playing it.

“Right?” You say, stern.

A scoffed laugh leaves Thanos, impressed to say the least. You understand he’s got a career - a status, a version of himself to uphold. You also understand why he wants to protect that, but by finding you all and bullying you to silence for his benefit? It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. The same with Namgyu too. You’d both seen them murder people, meaning you’re a loose end to them.

A grin raises the left corner of Thanos mouth, squinting one eye as he points a finger at you.

“You’re a smart girl, aren’t you? Here I thought you were just another pushover.” He analyses through restricted laughs. His hands slap down onto his knees suddenly as he stands.

“Well, may as well cut to the chase.” He says, plonking himself down on the sofa next to you. Clearly inconsiderate toward the concept of personal space. You exhale, already tired of this situation. Your eyes settle ahead - onto Namgyu, deciding you could tolerate Thanos as long as you didn’t look at him.

Thanos brings his face close to the side of your head, breath hot against your neck.

“I - we,” He pauses, extending a palm to Namgyu who you’re still staring at, “We need to feel confident in knowing you can keep your mouth shut about our little escapade together a few weeks ago.” He mutters, tone laced with a bit more sincerity now as he refers to the games. In fact, you know he doesn’t care if you talk about the games — you know that’s he’s referring to what you had witnessed.

Both of their actions - their murderous capabilities.

Your mouth twitches, now realising you have something over them. They’re concerned that you could taint their reputations. In fairness, you hadn’t even considered it. But there’s something satisfying about having that leverage on them that just tickles your mind in all the right ways. A one sided smirk paints your face.

“You’re murderers.” You say with a new found confidence and you see Namgyu straighten in his seat - on edge, as though his suspicions on you ratting were coming to a slow reality. Thanos is grabbing your chin in a second, forcing you to look at him — he looks disgusted that you would even say that, comically so considering that he is exactly what you accuse him to be.

“How could you say that, huh? We protected you in there — right, Namgyu?”

“Fucking right.” You hear Namgyu mutter in response, but his voice is coming from behind you now. You hadn’t even seen Namgyu get out of his seat — now feeling the couch beside you sinking as he settles there, pressing his chest into your back. Yet again, sandwiched.

You laugh once through your nose at them, glaring into Thanos’ eyes — his grip on your chin discomforting.

You’re not stupid. You know that in the games it was kill or be killed. That sacrifices had to be made. Most of the time, his and Namgyu’s actions strictly followed that principle. It’s the fact that they enjoyed it. Laughed about it — not even batting an eye when discarding someone else’s life. You had wondered when it would’ve been your turn.

You feel the tips of Namgyu’s fingers skimming your bare shoulder, dancing across the skin there before they’re replaced by his chin - settling his head onto your shoulder with a comfy hum.

“You should be thanking us.” Namgyu says into your ear, the proximity of his voice causing a cold shiver across your body. Thanos nods, the disgusted look on his face still remaining.

“Exactly right — shit, when did you get so ungrateful, y/n?” Thanos asks, pinching your chair harder - your strong facade starting to slightly waver at the rising proximity of them both. The need to escape this situation only grew stronger now — not that you’re afraid, but the tension in the room had grown thicker — a tension you didn’t know existed until Namgyu locked that fucking door.

Shamefully, you were enjoying this.

Being sandwiched by them. The warmth of Namgyu’s body heat pressing into your back — the way Thanos can’t help his eyes darting down to your mouth though he try’s to appear intimidating. It’s daunting and extremely testing. All the while making you feel like you’d lost all your self respect. It’s something you couldn’t let yourself succumb to.

So you pick the easier option.

“I won’t say anything.” You simply say, spitting out your words like you’re shocked that they thought you ever would.

“Fucking right you won’t.” Thanos bites out as he releases your chin backward harshly, your body weight falling back into Namgyu’s chest - you see it as a chance to leave, but Namgyu’s already looping his arm around your torso and softly pulling your back against his chest. Thanos is standing the next minute, pacing the room once or twice in thought — probably wondering whether to take your word, if he could trust you.

The drugs have obviously raised his paranoia.

He shoots a look at you — his brows comically curved downward in distain. You can’t help your smug expression.

He snaps then, again - bending over you and pointing in your face.

“You better not tell those pig cops a fucking thing —”

You don’t let him finish, deciding to finish this quick.

“With what fucking evidence, Thanos?” You slur out, your tone slipping into a mockery as you say his ridiculous name.

Was he that fucking high? Even if you wanted to rat them out, how could you? There wouldn’t be a slither of evidence to prove it. You’d just have to live with the knowledge. Your common sense plunges his live wire brain into silence for a fleeting moment.

You watch the realisation set on this face. It’s slow but incoming. A second later - his anger bleeds away, his frown now bleeding into a wide smile. You just clench your jaw at him - unimpressed. So unbothered that you’d even settled nicely against Namgyu’s chest - his fingers playing with the ends of your hair not even remotely a bother to you.

A soft exhale leaves Thanos’ now wide grin. A realising one. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

You want to tell him it’s because the drugs are frying his brain but you choose to hold your tongue.

He laughs right in your face then — not even realising his own stupidity. Too fucking high to comprehend common sense. He runs his hands through his hair frantically as he steps back, overjoyed. Feeling like he’d won.

“Ohhh, y/n — this calls for celebration.” He says before bending down close to you again, prodding his index finger into your forehead, pushing your head back so it rests back on Namgyu’s shoulder.

“You’re gonna stay right here while I get us some drinks, okay?” He says, condescendingly.

“Namgyu will take good care of you — won’t you boy!” He shouts to him before straightening up and heading out the room - the door briefly letting in the loud music before it slams shut behind him. You shut your eyes for a moment and you breathe a sigh of relief. As though a disaster had been completely diverted — realising his junkie brain could’ve settled on killing you even before thinking about the obvious.

A silence sits in the air.

“You know I told that fucking bastard the same shit you just did.”

Namgyu says from behind you — his tone surprisingly bitter when addressing Thanos. Almost as if a facade had dropped without his presence in the room. You decide not to reply — intrigued, feeling as Namgyu’s fingers continue their pursuit through your hair, fiddling - toying. He’d always been the touchy type.

“Told him that there wouldn’t be any evidence whether you ratted or not.”

You simply stay still against him — the urge to look over your shoulder and read his expression becoming more alluring. You hadn’t been exposed to this dynamic — the insecure side of Namgyu. Fuck, you didn’t even know he had it. Especially against Thanos.

You hear him scoff as a hand slopes down your neck, his index and middle finger catching under your chin and stroking the skin there.

“No, he only seems to listen to pretty girls.“

He pry’s your head back and over your shoulder to face him with his two fingers then, a soft tsk leaving his pouting lip as his eyes set on you.

You stare up at him — completely fixed on his gaze. Fixated on his softened tone whenever Thanos isn’t around, like he lets his soft spot for you seep through his hardened edges. You can practically feel his insecurity vibrating off him like live wire. An underlying anger that would soon enough boil to the surface, eventually thrashing out — it’s obvious he hate’s people walking over him.

Being made to feel idiotic.

You can’t help but pity him a little. Just a little, you promise yourself. Anymore than that and you’d start to worry about your sanity. You stare up at him, too concerned to speak but your lips are already parting before you can tell yourself not to.

“He looks down on you.” Your voice comes out in a shattered whisper, as though you know you’re crossing the line just by commenting on it. It’s not that you intend to steer his mind, but in reality you understood his mindset. His expression runs cold the moment you speak though and the next, he’s lifting you off him and throwing you to the other end of the couch.

The soft leather welcomes you though. You simply look over at him, bracing your hands on the couch to lift yourself up - he’s shoving his hand into his pocket, muttering to himself as he pulls out a small bag of pills.

You watch his fingers fiddle with the small packet, greedily sticking his hands in to seize a little blue pill.

“What’s that?” You ask sheepishly. He doesn’t reply - he just slips back onto the couch, pops one into his mouth - the sound of him crunching down on it was the only reply you got. You just gulp down hard, not wanting to push it but you can’t help but watch him - seeing how quickly the drug took effect by the way his shoulders drop in ease. The way the corner of his mouth slightly twitches upward - pleased.

It’s like watching someone breathe their first breath of air.

You pull your eyes away.

They flash to the door. You should leave.

“It helps.” You hear him say then, his voice a little more relaxed and unguarded from before. Your curiosity is a killer, turning your gaze back toward him. His head slants over to you, limp and he blinks his way into a very small smile. You only wonder what he’s feeling.

“What does it do?” You ask, your voice a little bolder upon seeing him more relaxed.

Namgyu inhales through his nose, his eyes creeping up to the ceiling in brief thought before they drag back onto you.

“Makes you forget. Makes you feel strong, you know?” He says, a proud gleam on his face.

You didn’t know. You couldn’t so easily forget, but god, you wanted to. That’s why you came tonight. To drink all the shit away. The games - the trauma, all that blood. Your throat runs a little dry as you drop your eyes. You’d taken drugs in college, a bit of everything really. You dabbled. But you never got yourself hooked like the way him and Thanos had.

They used it like oxygen, and now you’re eyeing the pill packet that’s slack in his fingers like a quick fix.

You swallow hard.

“Can I try?” You ask, too busy eyeing the packet to see the way a crooked grin slips onto his face. You hear him scoff a laugh which makes you look back up at him though.

“What?” You almost snap, your tone immediately defensive. He blinks at you, his grin still plastered onto his face.

“You couldn’t handle it.” He says, but his tone implies that he’s almost daring you. You blink at him, then back down to the packet. You were somewhat timid in the games — quiet. You had been too afraid to even form a sentence most times. Maybe that’s why he’s surprised that you’re asking this of him. You don’t know, but you don’t ask again.

You look away.

You hear him sigh. Then the creaking of leather.

“C’mere.” He says, so you look at him. He’s still sunk into the couch but he’s moved his arm out as if to invite you in. You simply stare. But he’s impatient.

“Quick before I change my mind.”

You move closer to him as though in autopilot. Without a second thought - as though your sensibility had slipped away upon invite. Shuffling down the couch till you’re shoulder to shoulder with him now. You hear a hum in his throat as you settle next to him, as if your warmth was almost a pleasure.

You watch as he dips his finger into the packet again, prying out another blue one, pinching it between thumb and index. It’s in your palm the next second and you can only stare down at it. You feel his eyes burning into the side of your head.

This tiny little blue pill. You know you shouldn’t. You know it isn’t the answer.

But it’s in your mouth the next second, sitting on your tongue softly inside your mouth. You suck on it a little, it doesn’t taste good. He stares at you intensely, as though boyishly excited.

“Don’t suck it,” Namgyu says, twisting his body toward you as he slings an arm around you, bringing his face in a little closer - just to guide you through it.

“Chew it.” He brings his fingers to his mouth as to action you, fingers covering his grin, nibbling ever so slightly on some skin there. He’s watching you like you’re some sort of fascination, like you’re the only woman in the world. You lock your eyes with his, and then crunch. The sound brings a little smile to his face. You smile back a little.

You don’t know how long it’s been.

Thanos still hasn’t come back. Probably moved on to the next thing to obsess over. Maybe some fans, maybe a girl. You didn’t know - fuck, you didn’t care. In fact, there isn’t much thought in your mind at all.

Your heads resting on Namgyu’s thighs, your eyes upward at the ceiling. He’s sat back, looking up too — his fingers softly running though your hair. There’s a comfortable silence between you both. Not in a million years would you have expected to be laying like this, with him. So peacefully.

“Fuck.” You softly whisper. And that’s all.

“Good shit, huh?” You hear, which causes a lazy smile to sit on your face. It was. A white ceiling hadn’t ever been more hypnotic. You don’t even know how long you’d been laying there, staring upward. The room felt more tighter, more warm. The music blasting outside the door had become nothing less than soft hum falling onto deaf ears.

It’s all hazed. Numbed. Feeling as though you’d been struck by lightning and somehow miraculously survived. Living in an aftershock, your skin prickling with false electricity.

“I feel so — heightened.” You say softly, settling on that word like it was the only way to describe what you’re feeling. Not like you needed to describe it to Namgyu anyway, this was like a walk in the park for him.

You hear him hum in agreement before his fingers leave your hair to ever so discreetly travel the pads of his fingertips down your cheek - testing your words, seeing how you respond to the feeling. Despite the delicacy of his touch, it feels like you’d fell into a bed of roses — a soft tickle, like an electric shock - but a nice one. Feeling it so strongly that your eyes flutter closed and back open on impact, enjoying it.

“Feels good, right?” He says, his half lidded eyes now looking down at you in curiosity. He sees the twitch in your smile — the way your eyes close, the slack in your shoulders as you relax against him. He’d always been attracted to you — and you, him. You’d felt attracted to him even during the games, shamefully so. Though you’re the stubborn type. The type to mistrust your own feelings - the type of person who denies a slice of cake, no matter how much they want it. Like you had done with him.

You told yourself no, over and over. Like he’s forbidden fruit.

But the way his fingers caress your cheek like your made out of china glass? You’re not even second guessing your feelings. You just let yourself enjoy it. Enjoy being close to him. No longer an overthinking nag in you’re head telling you that this is wrong.

You open your eyes and tilt your head to look up at him. His palm flattens against the curve of your face as you do - the cold of his rings kissing your skin.

You both stay like that for awhile, staring at one another - almost as though you’re both acknowledging exactly how the other feels - and finding a satisfaction in it. Both so blissfully unaware. Just being able to shut the fuck up and enjoy the impending quiet.

You eyes go to close again, but his hand pats your cheek softly.

“Keep ‘em open.” He mutters.

So you do. The next second he’s carrying his finger tips across your cheek again - as though he just likes the satisfied look on your face. Like he enjoys knowing you’re feeling good under his touch. He slips his fingers down and across your jaw - achingly slow, causing a bristle of goosebumps to prickle your skin. Your mouth twitches again.

He’s deadpan, only his lips are slightly parted - as though he’s analysing every crevice of your face, every dimple - every soft spot. You eyes dare to flutter closed, but you keep them open for him.

His fingers carry on as they graze over your chin, across — but come back on themselves. He tucks the rest of his fingers away, folding them under your chin - only now, the pad of his thumb as it comes to graze your bottom lip.

Your breath hitches to a halt deep in your chest.

You can’t look away. The intimacy of such a simple graze enough to send your heart fluttering wildly against your ribs.

His next words cut through the thick silence like a knife through butter.

“You ever made out while high before?’ He mutters lowly, his thumb now still on your bottom lip.

Fuck.

You can’t even find your words. Trying to form a sensible reply in your head, now an impossible task. All you can think about is how you now know he wants to kiss you — and that you want him to.

“No.” You manage, your voice slightly strained.

“Feel s’good.” He says, his reply as casual as it would be in any normal conversation.

You don’t even know how to reply. You’re simply shocked by his forwardness, his inability to feel shy or ashamed. A skill you wish you had inherited. But you feel it buried deep then - an urge inside you screaming at you, tugging at your vocal cords.

You didn’t know if it was the drugs.

Or maybe some new found confidence. But your next words fall out your mouth so easily that you even shock yourself.

“Can you show me?” You ask, bluntly.

You watch as his jaw tightens, the muscle underneath twitching his skin. An eagerness melting into his expression as quick as you had asked. It’s something about the way you asked for it. Asked him. Not Thanos, not some prick you could’ve been dancing with tonight. Him. It’s like a validation — like he’d been recognised, like you trusted him enough to do it despite how much of a prick he can be.

Even earlier when he threw you off him as soon as you tried to sympathise with him. You could’ve left — shit, he would’ve let you. But you stayed. You chose that — chose to get high. With him.

There’s something about that.

About you.

It strikes him deep in his chest. You can tell by the look on his face as he nods slowly.

“Yeah. C’mere — sit up for me.” He says, a new found gentleness in his tone — like he’s taking on a mantle of taking care of you. You want him to make you feel good. He takes that seriously.

You sit up slowly, an excitement twisting your stomach as you keep your eyes on his. The feeling that you were gonna burst if you held in your resistance much longer. He pats your thigh so you lift it slightly, giving him room as he scoops his hand under — lifting you onto his lap to straddle him.

“There you go.” He coaxes, shifting in his seat to help you get comfy.

Your dress rides up a little as you settle on him, stopping on your higher thighs, clinging to you perfectly. You see him as he watches that — his half lidded eyes unblinking as he huffs softly out his plump lips. Your breath comes out in ragged waves, incapable of calming the exhilaration now building in your chest. You can practically hear your own heartbeat — and you’re so close to him now that you even worry he can hear it too.

His hands settle on your knees first before they slide up your thighs and stop halfway. He squeezes them ever so slightly - eyes watching your reaction like a hawk as you press your lips tight, eyes closing briefly.

He doesn’t do anything else. He just watches you, scanning you — overly aware of how your senses had just spiked. You simply look back then — waiting in anticipation, but you’re waiting a second too long. You realise he’s waiting for you. You did ask after all.

You gulp down the dryness in your throat, dropping your eyes down as his tongue darts out lap his lips slightly. And before you know it, you’re leaning in.

He does to.

Meeting halfway as your lips press together once - softly.

It’s a short lived kiss as you both pull slightly back — still hovering near though.

The contact of that first one had been enough to send your heart plummeting into your stomach. Sending a jolt straight into your pussy — with one mean throb.

He leans in for another — your lips simply connecting again, before pulling away. And then another, and another. Each one just lingering a little longer that the last. By the next one, it’s more inviting, mouths a little wider as your lips greet with a little more edge - an eagerness. Like all you had needed was a second to adjust to one another. A second the adjust to the growing throb in between your legs.

Your lips smush together as the need grows. Both your breaths growing harsh as they expel through your noses. Your lips smearing against one another’s and you both open your mouths in sync - tongues slipping out to clash softly, wetly. The sensation of it pulling out a slow moan from your throat.

He tightens his grip on your thighs hearing that.

Confirming in his head that you feel good. And that it’s all because of him.

One hand slips up your thigh, before sliding all the way up your back - until he reaches the back of your neck, where he grips - tight.

Another moans slips out of you and straight into his mouth.

His tongue laps against yours, swirling — sucking, both your spits mixing together deliciously. The sound of it alone is vulgar — in all the right ways. You need to breathe but he’s got a vice grip on your neck — keeping you there, kissing him. It only makes you breathe harder through your nose, making you more eager as you really lean into the kiss, titling your head - forcing his head back and into the couch as you do. Inviting yourself further in.

It’s messy.

But fuck. He was right.

The drug you’re both on heightened things. Sensations — the kiss. Your skin red hot — pricking alive with goosebumps that ripple across your body like wild fire. So intense that you’re riving against him - chest to chest, your thighs clamping around his hips. The pair of you like animals — starved ones, who’ve finally got their pound of flesh.

It was supposed to just be a make out sesh.

Something timid and sloppy while you both ride out your high.

But you can feel his hardened cock through his jeans against your clothed pussy. It’s like an instinct as you sit on it, grinding down hard — rocking slowly forward in one mean swipe. He’s tangling his hand in your hair the next second and yanking your head back — the separation of the kiss causing you to take a gasped breath out your mouth.

You pant, your lips red - glossy with his spit. You still your hips from grinding as he stares at you — he looks wrecked. His hair now looking unkept, no longer neatly tucked behind his ears.

“Did I tell you to fucking stop?” He says meanly, between breaths.

You don’t say anything - too breathless to form a defence. You roll your hips down on him again, only once. He sneers.

“Nice ‘n slow, that’s it.” He drawls out, leaning back into the couch to watch you as he lets go of your hair, both his hands settling on your hips. You brace your hands on his shoulders - gripping, using him as leverage as you continue to grind down on him.

An hour ago you were calling him a murderer. Half an hour before that, he had a switchblade in your face.

Now, you’re both high and you’re dry humping him.

You could laugh about it if you weren’t moaning softly, your eyes closing as your head rolls back in bliss. His hands tighten on your hips — now moving them back and forth for you, dragging you up and down his hard on which begged to spring out of his fucking jeans. He’s puffing out breaths, then a hiss — or a groan. His noises only making the mess in your panties all the wetter.

“Look at you,” He pants out, staring at you.

“Asked me so nicely for a kiss and now you’re draggin’ your wet pussy all over me.” His voice is gruff — strained through the amount of pants.

He lets out a deep noise — rolling his head back, his cock now in agony from how fucking hard he is.

“Need to fucking taste that cunt.” He grits out between clenched teeth, hips bucking up into you.

“Namgyu,” You moan out, coming back in close as you press a sloppy, wet kiss to his mouth.

He invites it, his tongue darting out to kitten lick your bottom lip once, twice — before he forces his tongue through the little parting in your mouth. You moan into it, his tongue relentlessly exploring your mouth - swirling, expelling his own spit in. You’re helplessly smitten, feeling every little thing he does to you.

The ache is your pussy only grows and you can barely take it anymore.

You reluctantly break the kiss - your hands coming to twist into his t shirt.

“Please,” You groan out, eyes shutting as you rock against him.

“I need more, Namgyu. Please.”

You beg so pathetically - but he finds it sweet. Hot, obviously but still sweet. In fact you beg so sweetly that it makes him sick how much he wants to make you feel good. He’s always been a selfish lover in his past. Receiving blowjobs, handjobs — a quick fuck in the club bathroom, nothing intimate. It wasn’t his style.

But you.

Fuck. You’re like his own brand of heroin.

“I hear you, baby — I hear you,” he mutters against your lips — reassuring you through his own struggle as you’re still rubbing up onto his cock.

“But you gotta let me taste that pussy first. Then I’ll fuck it, yeah?”

You’re a mess against him — listening to his filthy words, sending your head into a spin so furious that you can’t seem to slow down. You just nod, still clutching onto him but he’s prying your hands off him not a second later.

“On your back f’me.” He mutters, peppering your lips with his mouth - the occasional lap of his tongue on your lip. You oblige, sliding off him and onto the couch - your back against the soft leather, cold — still not cold enough to cool you down. Your thighs are practically shaking — the eagerness to feel some sort of relief, to feel his hands on you. God, it’s unbearable.

He’s over you the next second — prying your knees apart. He sits there for a moment, deadpan but his eyes darken. His gaze boring between your legs — at the visible wetness in your panties. You watch his jaw tighten, the way his hair curtains his eyes, only making them appear more shadowed with intent. He’d ate pussy before. He’s done a lot, really. But it had always lacked a passion — never once had he felt an urge so strongly to please someone else other than himself.

It’s almost frustrating for him.

“Shit.” You hear him mutter, through the little gap in the corner of his clenched mouth, followed by an even lower, “fuckin’ slut.”

You’re a desperate mess, splayed out on the couch - and Namgyu sat there admiring you all the while. You just lay your head back, your eyes up at that white ceiling again. There’s a bliss that rolls over you, like a warm heat - seeping into your skin and cosying you sweetly. Like the sensation when you get into a fresh bed while it rains outside.

“Please.” You whisper softly, moving your eyes to plea with him between your legs. You feel him drag a single finger over the wet cloth of your panties - barely a graze. It’s enough to send your head spinning, gnawing down on your bottom lip to stifle a moan. Both hands disappear under your dress as his fingers hook on the waistband of your underwear - you lift your hips as he pulls them down slowly.

“Tell me want me.” He says, his voice low as he discards your panties to the side - his eyes stay pinned to yours. He’s not demanding you, that’s obvious. You can see the slight glint of pleading in his eyes — as though he needs to hear you say it. Needs to feel wanted.

It’s something you understand deeply.

The need for recognition. To verbalise it, is to make it real. He needs that more than you need him right now.

“I want you.” You whisper in reply. But you feel in your chest it wasn’t sincere enough. Your lips part again, a slight hesitation sitting in your throat. He stares at you, waiting.

“I need you.”

Those words pour out of you so intimately that it could’ve passed as a moan. You see his jaw set to one side, that satisfaction rolling over his face with such crude delicacy. He’s pressing his thumb against your clit a second later, grounding it into a slow circle - firmly. Your lips shudder open, then closed - unable to form a noise from the overwhelming relief. Your brows upturning, unable to hold your head up as you drop it back down onto the arm of the chair.

Namgyu uncontrollably sneers, the sight of you like this sending an adrenaline through his veins. Something he try’s to tame for now though - wanting to take his sweet time with you. His eyes drop down to your pussy. With his thumb still circling your clit, he uses his middle and index to stroke down your folds — slipping through your soak, till they stop at your tight hole.

“Fuckin’ soaked.” He grits, ever so slightly prodding your entrance with his fingers to test.

“N’ tight, shit. This all for me?”

You’re not looking at him - your eyes closed, but you can tell by the tone in his voice that he’s desperately pleased. Flattered maybe. You knew you were wet, but you must be really wet to get that response from him. The edge in his voice makes you clench around nothing.

You nod helplessly, then you feel his thumb press firmer against your clit. Your body jolts from the intensity, your eyes snapping open at him.

“Use your words.”

“Yes — fuck, yes. It’s for you.” You pant out, your voice reduced to a desperate mess.

He’s pushing his fingers in you before you can blink — but it’s not slow like his thumb. It’s one hard shove. Piston like, the tips of his fingers instantly hitting that sweet spot buried all the way inside you. You cry out — your body jolting from the force of it — the pleasure rolling over you like tidal waves, relentless and unforgiving.

He keeps his fingers there. Doesn’t move them, he simply curls them slowly - against your walls, and such a simple movement is having you crumbling below him.

You shudder a sweet moan, grinding your hips down against his fingers as to ask for more. But he pulls his fingers out. His eyes are on yours, and they stay on yours while his tongue comes out the lap over his fingers, tasting you.

You’d never seen anything like it, never experienced something so sexual in your life. You’re not even a virgin — but you may as well be by the way your thighs shake — by the way you grow increasingly hotter, intimidated by how fucking filthy he is. It’s contagious, intoxicating. More effective than the pill you both popped earlier. So proven as you reach up and grab his hand, pulling his fingers into your mouth to taste yourself too.

His mouth falls slack slightly at the sight.

Your tongue swirls around his fingers before you release them timidly, your mouth ever so slightly glossy from your own fucking juices. He’s staring at you like you’d just reached into his chest and pulled out his fucking heart. So intense it could’ve been mistaken for revulsion. But, no. Not him.

“Whore.” Is all he can manage to bite out, still stilled in his spot from you’d just done.

A confidence brims your throat, a slow smile craning up the corner of your lip - nothing holding you back with your quick reply.

“Murderer.”

Namgyu glares at you, a tsk coming out of his lips as they part in defeat. He doesn’t bother to deny it now. You’re both far too gone.

“And you’re still begging for my cock.” He challenges bitterly, moving his hands to undo his belt. You keep your eyes on his.

His belts being thrown to the side in a second, his fingers rabidly undoing his button and zipper as he pulls his cock free. Your eyes rake down his body till you see it, your stomach twisting. He’s big. Too big, you think. He holds his cock at its base, ever so slowly pumping it in his fist. His eyes remain on you, thinking.

You feel your pussy throbbing — clenching helplessly. You need it, you need it fucking now. You look up at his eyes again, expectingly. He’s stern — teeth slightly bared through the parting of his mouth from the pleasure of him fisting his cock softly.

“Murderer, huh?” He pants out.

Your expression wavers, realising he isn’t gonna make this easy for you now. He’d been generous this whole time but the second you run your mouth? He’s gonna make sure you know about it. You don’t speak, a timid look on your face now revealing itself.

“Guess that makes you pretty fucked up for bein’ this fucking wet for me then, yeah?” He grits out, now moving his cock to drag through your folds, slowly, relishing every slather of wetness. Your eyes flutter at the sensation, a moan catching in your throat as your head rolls back in bliss.

“Yeah, there it is. See? You’re just as bad.”

You can’t reply, your head reeling from the aching need to have him inside you. You pant out a breath, forcing your eyes down as you watch him slide his cock through your folds.

“You won’t fit.” You pant out, truly meaning your words.

“I’ll make it fit.”

You go to form a defence but his cocks splitting you in two in the next second. Stretching right through your tightness like an unstoppable force. Your mouth opens, a disgustingly load moan pouring out of you. You’re pussy clenches around his cock — sucking him in, and he’s obliging as he continues to push right up until your little sweet spot.

Namgyu grunts — then breathes out, almost sounding shattered from the tightness of your pussy. Hunching over you, his forearms now coming to settle on the couch at either side of your head - caging you in.

“Perfect fit,” he grunts out, grounding his hips against yours slowly.

“S’like you were fucking made for me.”

Your teeth catch your bottom lip, thrashing your head to the side in bliss. As condescending as he’s trying to be, he’s fucking right. Your pussy welcomes him in so perfectly and warm, tightening around his cock and hugging it. But it takes you a second to adjust - despite the overwhelming pleasure, it stings — completely filling you to the point that you’re trying to catch the breath wedged in your throat.

He slowly pulls out his cock, giving you the chance to exhale before he’s pushing it back in. You take it better this time, your pussy now accustomed to the overpowering size. Namgyu’s breath fans your cheek, like he’s trying to contain himself — the feeling of you squeezing down on his cock almost threatening to make him cum already.

You move your hips in a small circular motion, a little noise seeping out of you as you do. He likes hearing you — those little fucking noises you make. He’s clenching his jaw as he moves his hips back before slamming them back in, his cock hitting your sweet spot with ease. You yelp out, your arms coming to loop over his shoulders - fingers gripping into his toned shoulder blades.

Namgyu grunts at that, reeling his head back to look at your face properly.

You open your eyes up at him. Your expression torn between helpless and ragingly eager.

He grins a little, pulls his cock back and grounds back in with all the more force - your body jolting upward from it.

“I like the look in your eyes right now.” He says messily, condescending you. Your face reads needy, like the speed he’s going isn’t enough - that you need more but you don’t want to beg for it again. You glare up at him, but you cannot help the glossing plea in your eyes. He laughs out a little at you, between pants.

“Fuckin’ needy bitch.” He hisses despite his sick smile. His hips are going at a steady pace now, but not quick enough. Not the speed he knows you need.

“Ask me for it.” He pants out, his head so close that his hanging hair cages your own face. You don’t want to give into it — you want to play the game of power, but you know he’s relentless. You know he’ll fuck you slow until you’re a sobbing mess, pleading with him to make you cum. It irritates you — but it turns you on all the more. You use that aggression as you slam up your lips to meet his - crushingly desperate as you both tilt your heads into it.

You moan into it. You hear him moan too. The noise from him only fueling your fire as you bring his bottom lip into your teeth, gnawing hard — drawing a speckle of blood before you pull away, your head hitting the arm of the chair with a thud. You pant up at him, your chin raised as though you’d just made a bold statement.

Namgyu darts his tongue out and tastes the bit of blood on his lip.

“Fuck me. Hard.” You demand, and he’s staring at you like you’re a fucking god. He doesn’t reply, he just grabs your legs and hauls them around his hips as he picks up his speed — the sound of his hips slapping yours becoming louder and louder. Your eyes roll back, your mouth falling open wide from the euphoria.

He sees your open mouth and wastes no time as he spits into it harshly.

You look up at him — shocked, but he’s clamping his hand over your mouth the next second.

His hips pick up a quicker pace, the sound of your pussy squelching around him filling the room.

“Fucking swallow it.” He grunts out, teeth clenched as he drives his cock into you at a relentless speed. He watches your throat bob as you swallow his spit and then yanks his hand away from your mouth, his own mouth replacing it a second later.

You’re soaring. Room filled with sounds of your wetness, creaking leather and mutual moans. Stifled moans as your mouths welcome each others - his fingers reach down between your bodies to pinch at your clit, twisting it. You’d cry out a moan if you weren’t sucking on his fucking tongue.

You feel it then. That build. Your stomach slowly twisting inward - like an elastic, threatening to snap and loosen you up beneath him. He feels it too - the way your pussy hugs his cock all the more desperately. It’s all too much — you’d never fucked like this in your life. Never fucked high. Never fucked someone you’re supposed to hate.

It feels impossible.

Your breath hitches, your head pulling away from his as the moans roll out of you more ragged and uncontrolled.

“What?” He grits out, his tone mockingly pitiful. “You gonna cum on my cock?”

You can’t answer. Your chest rising and falling in aggressive rhythm. It’s too much — you already know you’re gonna cum harder than you ever have before. In fact the anticipation of it causes your hands to grip his hips, pushing — trying to ease his pace so you don’t truly unravel below him.

“No you fuckin’ don’t.” He mutters out meanly as he prys your hands off his hips, using one of his hands to vice clamp your wrists together — now holding them above your head.

You cry out, helpless - especially as he somehow picks up his pace. His hips cramming against yours meanly — without mercy or give. He doesn’t let himself cum. Not yet. Not until he sees you truly unravel.

“Namgyu —” You stutter out as you reach closer, your wrists wiggling in his grip.

“Open your fuckin’ eyes.” He cuts you off and as you peel them open for him,

You cum.

Your orgasm rips through you, starting red hot deep in your pussy. You cry out — loud, now grateful for the volume of the music in the club. The pleasure shoots through your legs — shaking them, and it’s so overwhelming that you can barely breathe. He’s glaring down at you, fascinated with the way your pupils blow wide — eyes glossing with tears that you can’t subside from the overpowering pleasure crippling you. He smiles — twisted, sickeningly pleased.

“Thaaaat’s it.” He groans out, now reaching close just from the sight of you cumming.

You’re barely responsive, your orgasm had ripped through you so hard that you could barely catch enough breath to keep a steady head. Your head spins — vision blurred as you helplessly blink up at him, lips swollen - hair reduced to a mess.

You just about slur out your next words.

“Fill me up — Namgyu, please.”

His breath shudders at your words and as he try’s to form some sort of horny response, he’s already cumming.

His face twists, eyes cramming shut as he leans his forehead against yours. You feel every muscle in his body clench - contort, tighten. He’s groaning out — sweetly, almost timidly. Like he can’t keep up the facade of a man who’s in complete control.

You feel his cum shoot into you, warm and slick. It’s delightful — your eyes closing as a little satisfied moan slips out of you.

You don’t know how long you’re both laying like that until you feel his body relax — his head coming down to lean into the crook of your shoulder, heavy pants ripping through you both. The rooms warm — thick, the sweat clinging to you both now drying.

You don’t feel any guilt.

There’s no dread.

In fact you feel more at peace with your mind now that you had done in a month. Like you’d took all your control back.

You feel him twitch as he lifts his head after awhile. He’s flushed, his hair clinging to the sweat on his forehead.

You look just as equally wrecked as he does.

You both stare at each other. There’s no snide comments, no demeaning. Just your warm breathes meeting in the middle.

The only thought that slips into your head is the only one that concerns you.

How the fuck could you possibly stay away from each other now?

Authors note: gang this took me SO LONG to write wtf ???? but anyways, plz plz plz enjoy !!! had way too much fun writing this <3 stay strong namgyu nation ❤️

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ without you ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ seong gi-hun x player!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! 🤍

˚ ༘♡ the air had gone dry sometime after the shooting, sometime after the shouting stopped. now, it clung to the four of you akin to a damp sheet, suffocating in its silence, in its refusal to speak. no one dared to fill it. not jun-hee, who sat stiffly with both hands pressed to the swell of her stomach as if her own touch could shield the life inside her from the horror it had almost witnessed. not geum-ja, whose wrinkled hands trembled in her lap as she kept her head bowed, dark lashes casting long shadows over her swollen eyes. and not hyun-ju, who had stopped mourning hours ago but whose breath stuttered every now and then, as if her chest refused to believe it had survived another culling. the blood had dried on the cuffs of her sleeves. and then there was you, pallid, placid, barely holding together the pieces of what was left.

˚ ༘♡ in the dim lighting of the dormitory, washed in that sickening industrial glow, he looked almost like a corpse. seong gi-hun. player 456. his hair matted down against his forehead, a stripe of dried blood cutting a harsh diagonal across his angular jaw, hands cuffed to one of the bedposts as if he was some unmanageable beast instead of the man who had once passed his kindness down the line without a word. his eyes stared past the wall, past the ceiling, past all of you, hollowed out, not empty but unbearably full of failure. of grief. of guilt.

˚ ༘♡ you didn’t blame him. for the rebellion. for the carnage. even for coming back. none of it. he had been desperate. the way a man gets when there is nothing left to pray to, when the only god left is one you have to become yourself. you had seen it in him in the days leading up to it, the restlessness, the pacing, the whispered conversations at night that never included the rest of you but never fully shut you out either. the way his eyes had kept searching the room for others like him, others who hadn’t quite lost all their dignity yet. who flinched at the sound of gunfire. he had tried. he had wanted something different. and he had failed, but he had tried.

˚ ༘♡ your throat hurt. not from screaming. you hadn’t screamed. you hadn’t moved when the shots started. you hadn’t run. you sat there, watched people die again, this time for believing it could end. your throat hurt because something had folded up inside you so tightly it ached. something had gone still. and now, looking at gi-hun chained like an animal and barely breathing, you felt it stir.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t even glance at you when you stood. the others said nothing. jun-hee shifted somewhat, protective of her unborn baby. geum-ja sniffled. hyun-ju glanced at the floor. the walls were humming faintly, always humming, always pretending the games weren’t built on the sound of human blood drying. you walked slowly, bare feet brushing over the cold concrete, the fluorescent lights above flickering faintly, once, as if reconsidering whether to stay on.

˚ ༘♡ you knelt beside the bed he was chained to, the clink of the metal cuff the only sound between you for a long time. he didn’t look at you. his chest rose and fell steadily, but it was shallow, like he’d forgotten how to breathe fully. like he didn’t want to. his left hand, free, was curled into a loose fist on his thigh, knuckles scraped from the scuffle when the guards wrestled him down after the rebellion collapsed and he demanded death. he hadn’t fought them much after that. they hadn’t needed to tranquilize him. he had… stopped.

˚ ༘♡ “gi-hun,” you whispered. not too soft, not too loud. just enough. just enough to remind him you were here. that he was here. but he didn’t blink. didn’t flinch. he may not have heard you at all. or maybe he had, and that was worse. because maybe it didn’t matter.

˚ ༘♡ your voice cracked the second time. “are you okay?”

˚ ༘♡ no reply. his jaw clenched, barely, the only sign he had heard you at all. his gaze didn’t move. not to you. not to the others. he stared at the opposite wall like he was watching the footage play back over and over, on a loop they’d burned into his skull. you knew he was seeing it. the rebellion. the people who trusted him. the blood. jung-bae’s screams. the moment the front man ordered the shots.

˚ ༘♡ you wanted to touch him. your hand hovered just above his, and you thought about all the small kindnesses he’d given over the last weeks. the way he had tried to shield jun-hee when they endured miserable and terrifying nights. the way he had forced geum-ja to eat when she’d gone limp with despair. how he’d stayed up with you after the mingle game, when your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. all of that, and now, this. this silence. this cuff. this ruin.

˚ ༘♡ “you were trying to stop it,” you said, your voice a little firmer now. “i know you were. none of this is your fault.”

˚ ༘♡ his eyes closed. just for a second. not sleep. not peace. more like a wince. your words pressed too hard against something raw inside him. he didn’t answer. didn’t ask you to stop. but his breathing hitched, only once. and his fist uncurled by a tad. you stayed there, waiting, not expecting anything in return. the next game loomed, inevitable, cruel in its mystery. and you were terrified. your knees hurt against the concrete. your throat ached. but none of that mattered right now. not while he looked like that. as if he had nothing left worth staying alive for.

˚ ༘♡ your voice dropped, soft again. “i’m here.”

˚ ༘♡ nothing. but maybe, maybe that meant everything.

˚ ༘♡ time passed like dripping wax, thick, irreversible, and strangely undisturbed in the aftermath. no one had spoken in hours. you didn’t leave gi-hun’s side, not even as the women shifted, lay down, or tried to rest. jun-hee had turned her back to the room, cupping her belly as if she could shield her unborn child from the memory of the rebellion and the horror to come. hyun-ju was silent, picking absently at the thread of her uniform. geum-ja hadn’t moved much at all except to murmur the occasional prayer under her breath, soft and rhythmic, as if it was the only thing she had left to anchor her.

˚ ༘♡ you remained at the foot of the bed where gi-hun sat, cuffed, slouched, back pressed to the metal bars. he hadn’t shifted. not when the lights dimmed. not when they rose again. not when the heavy doors clanged open with that awful mechanical groan that always preceded food.

˚ ༘♡ it was two of the guards, the usual ones, stiff and faceless behind the pink masks, who entered without ceremony and handed out aluminum trays near the door.

˚ ༘♡ sweet purple potatoes. no rice. no soup. no meat. the violet starchy cores, whole and cold. you rose quietly, careful not to startle gi-hun, though he hadn’t reacted to movement in hours. the women didn’t stir when you walked to grab your tray.

˚ ༘♡ your hands shook a little as you picked up one of the sweet potatoes. the other tray had already been split between geum-ja and jun-hee, who looked at you but said nothing. you gripped one of the potatoes, fingers clutching the warm skin of the root, and crouched again by the side of gi-hun’s bed.

˚ ༘♡ “you have to eat.” your voice was low, strained, full of effort not to sound desperate. “just a little. please.”

˚ ༘♡ his head tilted scarcely, but his eyes stayed distant. it was like watching a statue shift, a subtle movement, hardly visible, but enough to let you know he wasn’t completely detached. not gone. not yet.

˚ ༘♡ you placed the potato gently beside him, fingers brushing the mattress edge. you stayed there, kneeling, staring up at him with a kind of stubborn ache swelling in your chest.

˚ ༘♡ “you don’t have to say anything,” you added, quieter now. “but you need your strength. i know you don’t care right now. but i do. we all do.”

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t blink. didn’t move. and then, so faintly it could have been breath, you heard it.

˚ ༘♡ “i’m not the man you think i am.”

˚ ༘♡ your eyes stung immediately, so sharply it startled you. not because he had finally spoken, but because of what he had said. because it felt like he had looked inside you, peeled something open, and decided to destroy it before it could reach him. his voice was hoarse. dry. cracked like something that hadn’t been used in days. but it held a clarity that gutted you. a conviction born from pain, not pride.

˚ ༘♡ “you don’t know me,” he added, so hushed it might’ve been to himself. “you think i tried to stop this. but i didn’t. i… i made it worse. they followed me. they died. i made them hope.”

˚ ༘♡ your throat locked. it was like something inside your ribcage had split, jagged. you reached for his free hand, not forcefully, but to rest yours near it. you couldn’t let him spiral further. he wasn’t alone. he had to know he wasn’t alone.

˚ ༘♡ “gi-hun…”

˚ ༘♡ “enough,” geum-ja’s voice cut through the room, not unkind but firm, worn. “please, child.”

˚ ༘♡ you turned toward her, blinking away the tears that were gathering fast. she didn’t move from where she sat, arms around her legs, but her eyes were focused on you, sharp despite the exhaustion weighing down her body.

˚ ༘♡ “you’re exerting yourself,” she said, more gently now. “he will be fine. he just needs time. space. you’re going to fall apart, too, if you keep trying to carry him.”

˚ ༘♡ “i’m not…” you started, but your voice failed. your hand withdrew from gi-hun’s instinctively, even though he hadn’t flinched. he hadn’t pulled away.

˚ ༘♡ “he’s still here,” geum-ja said, more softly, “he’s not gone. but don’t push him. not now. please.”

˚ ༘♡ silence followed. one that filled the whole room, dense and unbearable. you nodded once, shaky. then stood, step by step, heart resisting every inch of space you created between you and him.

˚ ༘♡ you didn’t look back when you sat beside hyun-ju and rested your arms on your knees. you couldn’t. the ache was too loud. it howled inside you like a wound reopened. because you couldn’t fathom it, not being there for him. not when he had given so much of himself to everyone else. not when it was clear he hadn’t given anything to himself in return. not when it was him.

˚ ༘♡ the cold sweet potato remained untouched by the bed. gi-hun stared ahead, unmoved. but a flicker of something had passed between you, and though it wasn’t comfort, not yet, it was a fracture. a crack in the silence. and maybe, just maybe, the start of something he could return from.

a/n: my first seong gi-hun fanfiction! let me know if you have any thoughts or requests! 🤍

[eggdrawsthings]

When does a man become a monster? And is he a monster, still, if he  feels nothing but regret and guilt?” [x]

[lovemepartly]

bf!namgyu ✩ headcanons

warnings: 18+, smut. some mentions of drinking and drugs. might be a bit ooc.

a/n: sorry if these are shorter than usual, i’ve not been in the mood to write lately :/ speaking of which, it might take me a bit longer to get to requests, but i am working on them, i promise!!

sfw ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

• despite his tough front, namgyu’s a pretty big softie, especially when it comes to you. he’ll climb into your arms at night and will fall asleep almost instantly. plus, he loves it when you play with his hair and scratch his head.

• when he’s not working at the club, he’ll usually spend his nights there and bring you with him. he’ll pull you onto his lap, offering you a sip of his drink or blowing smoke in your mouth. depending on how intoxicated he gets, he’ll make out with you without a care in the world to who is watching.

• he’s extremely possessive and gets jealous easily. when he sees you talking to another guy, he’ll immediately come up to you and wrap his arm around your waist and pull you away.

• namgyu loves it when you wear his clothes; he loves to see you lounge around the house in his t-shirt. when you go out with your friends, he’ll usually lend you his jacket or coat just so everyone knows you’re taken.

nsfw under cut ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

• namgyu is extremely touchy during sex. his hands are always roaming around your body, squeezing and pinching.

• when he’s nestled between your thighs, he definitely loves it when you pull his hair. it drives him crazy and he’ll only get messier with his movements.

• he definitely loves to overstimulate you. to hear you beg and whine and tell him you can’t take any more only makes him smirk.

• he loves getting head from you. when you get on your knees and wrap your lips around his length, that’s enough for him. he’ll thrust into your throat, loving the way you gag and how your eyes tear up. he’ll reach down to push some hair out of your face, muttering, “my pretty girl. so good for me, aren’t you?”

[theo-throne]

[isabela-merceds]

it's been a really interesting, slightly chaotic, and bewildering month but i've never been happier

[meadowfics]

new director

namgyu x f!onlyfans!reader

this is a part two to my namgyu fic linked here

warnings: minors do not interact. 18+, smut. sex work involved and included in this fic. vulgar dialogue. switch!namgyu. switch!reader. vocal namgyu. p in v unprotected. breeding kink.

a year has flown by since you and namgyu became partners, both as a couple who happened to grow as each other's best friend as well. everything has clicked into place.

you’re still fantasygalaxy on onlyfans, your online empire thriving with subscribers who can’t get enough of your photos, videos, and sultry voice calls.

the money’s steady and flowing (big bank ayyy), the work’s fun, and you’ve got it locked down. there is never in-person stuff, just digital seduction from the safety of your penthouse.

namgyu was the one exception, the only guy who’s ever crossed that line from screen to reality. he’s cool with your hustle, never bats an eye when you spend nights filming, transforming into whatever role your fans are craving.

thats one great thing about your boyfriend, he respects you outside of this work. he loves you as y/n, even though he appreciates fantasygalaxy too.

sometimes he is there just off camera, watching you while he’s still pentagon.gyu. he loves throwing cash at your content like it’s a game.

he does it half to support you, half to mess with you, like he’s staking his claim as your number-one fan.

“I gotta keep the algorithm happy,” he’ll joke, but you know he loves it. early on, you both set a hard rule: he stays out of your videos. no appearances, no hints of a boyfriend.

your subscribers, especially the men and gay women, would lose it if they knew you were taken, and neither of you wants to tank your income over some drama.

you’ve built something solid with namgyu.

it’s not just sex, though there’s plenty of that, it’s coffee runs, late-night takeout, him teaching you how to play some dumb video game while you laugh at his nerdy excitement.

he’s your boyfriend, your bestfriend, and it’s weirdly normal despite how you met.

still, you keep your worlds separate: fantasygalaxy is for the fans, but namgyu’s for you.

one night, you’re prepping to film, hyped for a new role-play you’ve been teasing on your page. you’re going full naughty housecleaner—think skimpy black dress, frilly apron, thigh-high stockings, maybe a feather duster for extra flair.

you’re arranging your setup in the living room, candles flickering for ambiance, when disaster strikes.

your tripod, that trusty piece of junk you’ve been meaning to replace, snaps in half mid-adjustment.

“are you fucking kidding me?” you shout, hurling the broken legs across the room. they clatter against the wall, and you’re fuming, pacing like a caged animal.

“this is just my luck tonight.”

namgyu’s sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone, one eyebrow raised at your outburst.

“ you good? what’d the tripod do to deserve that?” he’s teasing, but when he sees the genuine frustration in your eyes, he sits up, tossing his phone aside.

“okay, for real, what’s the problem? you look like you’re about to set it on fire.”

you groan, slumping against the table.

“it’s fucked. i was supposed to film tonight and I promised a big post, got everyone hyped, and now my setup’s ruined.” you kick at the broken pieces for emphasis.

“i can’t just hold the phone myself. it’ll look like amateur hour.”

he stands, stretching, and walks over, nudging the wreckage with his foot.

“so what’s the move? you canceling?” you shake your head, chewing your lip.

“no way. i’ll lose momentum if i skip. i just… ugh, i don’t know.” then it hits you, and you look at him, eyes narrowing with an idea.

“actually… you could help.”

he freezes, hands halfway into his pockets.

“help? like, what, hold your props or something? i’m not getting in your videos, y/n. we agreed since I don't need weirdos to come into club pentagon and jump my ass.” you laugh, waving him off.

“not like that, relax. i mean film. hold the phone, get the angles, be my director. you stay behind the camera, no one sees you, no one knows. you could be a friend for all they know.” he blinks, processing, then a slow grin spreads across his face.

“director, huh? you trying to put me to work now?” you step closer, poking his chest, voice dropping playfully.

“come on, it’ll be fun. you get to boss me around for once, and i’ll… make it worth your while later.”

he’s sold, eyes glinting, “deal. but i’m not going easy on you. i want oscar or daejong worthy shit.”

you snort, already heading to change, “yeah, yeah. just don’t drop my phone.”

you slip into your outfit with a tight black dress that barely covers your ass, lacy apron tied loose, stockings gripping your thighs just right.

the tattoos on your arm, those starry swirls namgyu’s obsessed with, peek out as you adjust the straps. you catch him staring as you step back into the room, and he clears his throat, picking up your phone like it’s a lifeline.

“fuck, you look…” he trails off, shaking his head.

“nevermind, let’s just do this before i lose it.”

you tweak the role-play on the fly. instead of a solo housecleaner bit, you pitch a new angle: you’re a maid who’s slacking off, and the

“director”—namgyu, behind the camera—catches you, ordering you to make up for it with a show. it’s perfect. he’s involved without showing his face, just his voice barking commands to sell the fantasy, and you can play off it without breaking your no-boyfriend rule.

“so,” you say, twirling the duster, “i’m lazy, you’re pissed, and i gotta make it right. sound good?”

he nods, already in director mode, “yeah, but you better sell it. i’m not holding this thing for nothing.”

you start filming, and it’s electric from the jump. you saunter over to a table, bending low to “dust,” your dress riding up to flash your panties—black lace, a fan favorite.

you glance at namgyu, and holy shit, he’s struggling. the poor man's joggers are doing a bad job hiding his boner, the outline of his dick clear as day, but you bite your lip and stay focused.

“is this good, sir?” you purr, dragging the duster slow across the table, arching your back for the shot. his voice comes rough from behind the phone.

“not good enough. you’re slacking... make it worth my time.”

it’s hot, the way he’s leaning into it, and you’re feeding off his energy.

you strip halfway, peeling the dress off to reveal a matching bra and panties, tossing the apron aside like it’s an afterthought. you climb onto the table, crawling slow, letting your hips sway as you look at the camera...not at namgyu, but it’s hard not to when you know he’s right there.

“better?” you ask, spreading your thighs just enough to tease.

“keep going,” he says, and you catch the strain in his tone.

“you’re not done till i say so.” you roll onto your back, trailing your hands down your stomach, stopping short of anything too explicit.

it’s a tease, not a finale, and you want to keep the fans begging. you slide off the table, straddling a chair, running your fingers along your thighs, smirking as you hear namgyu shift, probably adjusting himself.

“cut,” he finally says, voice like gravel, and you’re on him in seconds. you snatch the phone, toss it onto the floor somewhere, and crash your lips into his, climbing into his lap.

he groans, hands flying to your hips, pulling you flush against him.

“what the hell, y/n.. stop teasing me?” he pants, already grinding up into you. you can feel him through the joggers, hard and throbbing, and it’s driving you wild.

“tease?” you murmur, biting his lip.

“i’m about to give you everything, baby.”

you slide off him, tugging his joggers down, and his cock springs free... thick, leaking, begging for you. you don’t hesitate, you climb over his lap and sink down onto him right there on the floor, his length stretching you in that perfect, aching way.

“oh, fuck, yes,” you gasp, rolling your hips as he grabs your ass, thrusting up hard.

“fuck you’re such a desperate little slut,” he growls, voice dripping with venom, “couldn’t even wait to post that video, huh? needed my dick right fucking now.”

you laugh, clenching around him, making him hiss.

“talk all you want, namgyu, but you’re mine. i can ride this cock whenever i damn well please and you know that.. you let me every time.”

he’s losing it, hands roaming your back, your thighs, like he can’t get enough.

“shit, you’re so fucking soaked,” he moans, slamming up into you.

“I love watching you work for those losers online, but this? this is all mine.” you lean forward, nails digging into his shoulders, voice sharp.

"ahhh-- fuck! its all yours.”

it’s vulgar, messy, skin slapping as you fuck him hard, chasing that high.

“you love it, don’t you?” you taunt, slowing your hips just to mess with him, “knowing you went fro being one of them to being the only one who gets to fill me up.”

he’s close, you can tell since his thrusts are sloppy, desperate, and he’s cursing under his breath. you’re right there with him, but you try to hold off, squeezing around him to drag it out.

“don’t you fucking dare,” he snarls, catching your game, “don’t hold what i’m trying to get out of you.”

he thrusts harder, deeper, and it’s game over...you’re cumming, a sharp cry ripping from your throat as your body locks up, pleasure crashing through you.

he’s right behind, groaning your name as he finishes inside you, hot and thick, spilling inside of your walls until you’re trembling.

you collapse against him, both of you gasping, sweaty, wrecked. Namgyu's arms wrap around you, loose but warm, and he kisses your shoulder, muttering, “holy shit!”

you laugh, still catching your breath, head resting against his chest, “you’re not bad for a first-time director.” he smirks, already cocky again.

“give me a week, i’ll have you nominated for best actress.” you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling, content to stay there for a minute, his cum still warm inside you, feeling like the world’s just you and him inside of a studio... when in reality it is just your sky-rise penthouse.

masterlist

[idkshithead]

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ 𓊆ྀི gi-hun headcanons! 𓊇ྀི

·˚ ༘ — pairing: seong gi-hun x fem!reader

—❕warnings: nsfw content, mentions of trauma and insomnia (slightly), gi-hun being a cutie pookie patootie that i actually giggled and kicked my feet while writing this. i love him sm

｡𖦹°‧ sfw!:

season 1

— 𐙚 your relationship with gi-hun is a “pretty gf, obsessed bf” typa thing. he’d do anything for you. literally. you have cramps during your period? no problem cause he’s already out buying your favorite sweets. you don’t feel good about yourself all of a sudden? no worries cause he’ll sit you on his lap reminding you of how beautiful you are, of how much he loves you (and of how much you turn him on).

— 𐙚 s1 gi-hun is def the jealous type. mostly because he knows he’s not the perfect man to date due to all his family and financial problems so every time he sees a guy approaching you, maybe even good-looking, he’ll definitely pout: either he comes closer and grasps your waist tightly to show him you’re his, or he’ll just be silent and pretend to mind his business even tho he’s hurting inside cause he’s afraid you’ll replace him.

— 𐙚 later you’ll eventually tease him and tell him about how cute it is when he acts all jealous even when he tries to deny it. loves when you ruffle his hair/pinch his cheeks/cover his face in kisses to reassure him.

— 𐙚 s1 gi-hun is the type of man who really wants to spoil you with expensive gifts to make you happy but knows he can’t because of his lack of money. tries to make it up to you with simple dates (pic-nics, late night walks/drives, cuddle sessions etc.) even tho you tell him you don’t care about gifts and that you like simple actions. he’ll keep that in mind and will eventually start giving you picked-up flowers or short handwritten letters.

— 𐙚 s1 gi-hun’s life felt so much brighter when he met you and he couldn’t tell why. your presence just made him feel warm in his chest and he would remind you every. single. day.

— 𐙚 would definitely hug you from behind while you cook and start kissing your neck. later he would pick you up and sit you on the kitchen counter and start making out/cuddle with you while he whispers how much you mean to him etc. will make you promise to never leave him.

— 𐙚 one thing you ABSOLUTELY love about gi-hun, is his hair. it’s so fluffy and soft that you wanna touch it every minute of the day. in rough days he loves to lay on your thighs while you caress his scalp, play with strands of his hair to relax him until he’ll eventually fall asleep.

— 𐙚 s1 gi-hun would let you meet his daughter almost immediately cause when he met you first, he knew you would be the one. when he sees you get along really well with her he would smile like an idiot cause he loves to see the 2 most important girls of his life talking/having fun together.

season 2

— 𐙚 hate to say this, but s2 gi-hun is a whole different person. he’s not the smiley guy he once was and stay sure that he WILL be over protective, over possessive, over everything. can you blame him tho? he got traumatized so no, you can’t. he’s just afraid you’ll get in trouble as well.

— 𐙚 s2 gi-hun will definitely check on you every. damn. minute. he can’t find you? he’ll spam call you till you answer. you don’t answer his calls cause you’re out and can’t hear your phone? h’ell put on the gps in his car and come find you.

— 𐙚 at first you argued with him many times cause it became overwhelming. you basically couldn’t even go out with your old friend cause he’ll call you every 30 minutes and stuff. you didn’t want to get mad at him cause it wasn’t his fault, he just went through a lot and was worried for you.

— 𐙚 when you got mad, tho, you felt guilty not even a second later cause he looked at you with a sad and hurt expression and said: “i’m sorry. i just over worry and can’t stay calm when you’re out alone.”

— 𐙚 you’d tell him you understand but still you’re an independent woman and can defend yourself. (you’re lying cause deep down you like it when he worries a lot about you. but not in an obsessive/unhealthy way.). you will definitely cuddle him after that.

— 𐙚 s2 gi-hun never sleeps at night cause he feels the need to look after you while you sleep. he still feels like he’s in that room, keeping watch of bastards that could attack and kill you. if he manages to fall asleep, he’ll wake up in the middle of the night due to the nightmares. in those nights, you are the one who doesn’t sleep to look after him.

— 𐙚 he still loves to hug you from behind while you do stuff but also loves when you are the one to do so. he’s not as talkative as before so while old gi-hun would whisper loving sentences to you, present gi-hun just wants to feel the moment. he would bury his face into your neck and stay silent as you caress his hair and kiss it while he rubs your back and holds you tight.

— 𐙚 s2 gi-hun likes slow mornings. while in s1 he would go out to gamble/work and you would work too, now he likes to take his time to wake up to cuddle you, kiss you. just wants to enjoy his time with you, especially in weekends.

— 𐙚 s2 gi-hun would still take you out to late night walks/drives to relieve stress from both of you. his old manners of showing you his love are still the same: simple actions/gifts, physical touch etc.

｡𖦹°‧ nsfw!:

season 1:

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 the first time you two made love was quite embarrassing for him cause he hadn’t touched a woman in years after his ex wife(that is something that every gi-hun fan thinks lol😭). he was really scared to hurt you or make you uncomfortable but once you reassure him he will make sure he’ll be the best sex you’ve ever had.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s1 gi-hun will definitely cum really fast the first times cause he just can’t control himself with you. he doesn’t even make it on purpose but that man is able to cum in his pants by you just grinding on his lap.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s1 gi-hun is the type of man that really doesn’t care about sex. he’s not a really “horny-guy” cause he thinks sex is not that important in a relationship but since he met you he gets hard often times and can’t control it.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s1 gi-hun would think he’s not that good in bed but god, the way you moan his name or just moan in pleasure makes his ego reach the stars. he thinks he’s not that big but doesn’t realize that even common size (14/15cm) actually is.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s1 gi-hun def talks you through it. would tell you how much you turn him on, would tell you how good you feel around him and would tell you how good you are for him. loves to praise you during it.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 i feel like he LOVES blowjobs. they make him feel so damn horny and he doesn’t know why himself. probably is the way your pretty, innocent eyes look at him while your lips are wrapped around his length, pleasuring him.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 gi-hun is clearly noisy. be prepared to hear him moan even if you just move your ass while sitting on his lap.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 forget about degrading names/praises. will def not call you a “whore, slut, pathetic” etc, not even if you ask him. he’s just not that kind of man and it makes him uncomfortable

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 once you’re done, even if he’s dead tired, he won’t get in bed before making sure you’re all cleaned and feeling as comfy as possible. you chuckle almost every time and tell him to just lay with you and that you’ll take a shower later.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 thinks he needs to be the big spoon cause he’s the “man of the relationship” but loves to be the small spoon as well. depends on who needs more cuddles after that. if he’s the big spoon, he’ll lay you on his chest, pull the blanket over your bodies and rub your skin, whisper loving words till you both fall asleep.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 if he’s the small spoon he’ll be the one to lay on your chest and shyly ask you to caress his head/play with his hair cause it relaxes him. you can’t help the cuteness so you just roughly grab his face and kiss him nonstop. you’ll apologize later and both end up chuckling. likes when you rub his bare back with the other hand as well. will fall asleep immediately cause your heartbeat helps him relax.

season 2:

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun would prefer blowjobs even more since he can’t sleep and is really tired most of times. he loves when you help him relax with that and loves it even more when you’re the one to initiate first cause he feels shy to just ask you to make him cum. thinks it’s inappropriate.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun loves lazy and slow sex (unless he had a really bad day), prefers when you ride him cause it’s hotter to see your breast bouncing and stuff. will grasp your waist/hips gently and guide you through it while he praises you.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 he may not be as noisy as before but will never stop praising you. he realized he loves it even more when you are the one to praise him. sentences like: “fuck, you’re so good, gi-hun” or “you make me feel so good” make him cum immediately.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 will def ask you to do that again cause he LOVES to hear how good he makes you feel and how loved you feel even when your sex is not romantic and slow.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 if you’re not in the mood he’ll immediately pull away and apologize 5 times in a second cause he doesn’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable in any way. you smile and reassure him and then promise him to do it later (if you’re in the mood ofc).

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 will feel guilty cause he feels like he’s forcing you but you remind him that if you didn’t want to, you wouldn’t cause yes you love him with your whole being, but will never do something you feel uncomfortable with. especially if it’s related to intimacy.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 most of the times it will start by you massaging his shoulders cause they’re so tense. then you would start kissing his neck, make out and it will lead to bed.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 will praise you with nicknames like: “such a good girl for me, hun.” or “you’re so tight, sweetheart.” if you call his name he would respond with: “yes m’am?” cause he’s such a gentleman and loves to respect his woman.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun also loves missionary cause he needs to look at your pretty face and all the cute and horny expressions you make when he makes you reach the stars. would definitely kiss your neck/jawline/cheeks while he praises you.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun enjoys every type of quickies. on the kitchen counter when you cook? definitely. in the shower? always. in the car after a long late night drive? sure, why not. in the dressing room when you go shopping? loves the risk.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 when you do quickies in public he’d cover your mouth with his big hand and loves the sight of it. the way you try to keep quiet, the way you close your eyes to focus on not being noisy, your flustered cheeks. it turns him on even more.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 s2 gi-hun thinks aftercare is the most important thing. probably like it even more than sex itself. he wants to be the big spoon always but when you manage to convince him to be the small one, he would act as if he could accidentally hurt you.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 you would play with his short hair and kiss his head while you tell him how good he made you feel cause he’ll ask you if you liked it. if you would tell him that something made you uncomfortable he probably won’t touch you in “that way” for weeks. to the point you’d ask him if he still loves you cause you think he got tired of you.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 will look at you with an expression that clearly says “are you okay?” and then immediately reassure you and apologize for being a jerk.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 i feel like gi-hun hates porn and wouldn’t watch them not even if he got paid. thinks they’re too unrealistic and stupid. plus, he has you so what’s the point in watching other naked women having sex? not his thing, really hates it.

— 𓆩❤︎𓆪 doesn’t feel the need to jerk off when you’re not around, he’ll just wait till you come back if he needs it. would do that only if he’s desperate af.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ — a/n: soo here are few of my headcanons for this little cutie pie. idk if some of these are similar to others or something but if so, i’m so sorry, i didn’t copy anyone nor i inspired by anyone, i made them in my head based on my hc/scenarios😭 anyway i hope you enjoy reading this🥹

[almostwisegalaxy]

The forbidden in his eyes

Go hyun-tak x Sieun Sister!reader

Part 2 of UP to two Read this first I beg you

The reader has a shy character in this story

.................................………………………………………

Initially, Si-eun wasn't wary.

Hyun-tak was always the quiet one, but he saw everything. A quiet rock. He never took the lead unless necessary, and yet, he was always there when needed. That was his strength. And it was surely what had reassured Y/N, even if she didn't say it.

It was gradual.

The first time was a quick trip to the local park. A break between classes, a desire for fresh air. Humin had yelled at pigeons, Juntae had gotten lost in his own thoughts as usual, and Si-eun had seen, in the distance, Y/N sitting on a bench. And Hyun-tak… standing next to her, offering her an ice cream. She had smiled. He had looked away.

No one said anything. But Si-eun felt it.

That something, there. Slight but very real. An invisible thread between the two of them.

It intensified over the weeks.

Y/N, usually reluctant to stay in overly noisy groups, more often agreed to join them. But not for them. For him.

"Is Gogo coming?" she would sometimes ask, in a detached tone that was anything but innocent.

The first time she called him that, "Gogo," everyone burst out laughing. Except Hyun-tak, who turned beet red.

"Why do you call him that?" Humin grumbled.

"I don't know. Gotak, it's ugly. Gogo, it's softer."

And as if it were obvious, it stuck. Gogo this, Gogo that.

Even Juntae smiled, with his enigmatic look. But Si-eun frowned. He didn't say anything that day. He just watched Hyun-tak out of the corner of his eye.

Y/N was tactile. That wasn't new.

She'd cling to his arm when they walked together. She'd rest her head on his shoulder on the subway when she was tired. She'd take Si-eun's hand without warning, like when she was little. And yet… it wasn't the same with Hyun-tak.

It was never her who changed. It was him.

Every time she placed her hand on his shoulder, Hyun-tak became stiffer. Every time she laughed at one of his jokes—and only his—he would pinch his lips to keep from smiling too broadly. And most of all… he'd blush. Like a living blush. guy...

Every single time.

And Y/N? She saw nothing.

She continued to talk, to laugh, to tug on his sleeve, to complain about her homework, to thank him for a snack, to sit just a little too close.

But it was always him who looked away. Who pretended. Who whispered to himself: You don't have the right.

Hyun-tak knew.

He kept telling himself it was stupid. That it was temporary. That she was fifteen, and he was seventeen. It wasn't much, maybe. But in his head, it was a barrier. A forbidden line. He told himself he wasn't good enough for her.

Not smart enough. Not strong enough. Too used to solving problems with his fists. Too awkward with words.

And yet, he couldn't help but stay. To be there. To reach out when she stumbled. To give her his jacket when she was cold. To send her a message at night when he knew she'd had a bad day.

She didn't always reply.

But when she did, it was with these simple little words:

- Thanks, Gogo.

- You save my day.

And he would sit on his bed, phone on his chest, eyes closed, his heart a little too heavy.

He didn't have the right.

But he didn't want to distance himself either.

One afternoon, they found themselves alone, without the others. Y/N had invited him, almost without thinking.

"Can you help me study for math? Oppa's not here, and I hate equations."

He hesitated. Just for a second. Then he accepted.

At her place, it was quiet. Clean. A little messy too. Books, folded clothes, snacks hidden in a corner of the desk. She was comfortable. He, less so.

She had put on an oversized sweater. Did it belong to him? He preferred not to ask.

She sat on the floor, legs crossed, the textbook open in front of her.

"Explain this to me," she said, pointing to a problem.

He knelt beside her, tried to explain.

She understood quickly. And smiled.

"You're really not dumb, Gogo."

"You're better than you think you are."

"You're cute when you say that like it's nothing."

He looked at her. A little too long.

She didn't even notice.

That evening, Si-eun came home early.

He found them both in the living room, bent over a notebook. Nothing suspicious. Just… too close. Too fluid. Too natural.

Y/N looked up and said, cheerfully:

"Oppa, Gogo saved me from despair!"

Hyun-tak stood up, nervously, hands in his pockets.

"I'm going to go."

He avoided Si-eun's gaze. Y/N, meanwhile, continued to put her things away as if nothing had happened.

But Si-eun felt his stomach clench.

It wasn't that he didn't like Hyun-tak.

It might even have been the opposite.

He was the most reliable of them all. The one who fought without hesitation to protect others. Who had never betrayed, never lied, never fled. When they were in trouble, he was the one who stood firm without thinking. He was loyal, upright, courageous.

But Si-eun was struggling.

Too much.

To see him look at Y/N like that.

With that mixture of silent admiration, contained tenderness, and guilt. Si-eun saw it. He read it in his gestures, in his silences.

That look… it didn't belong to a mere friend.

But he said nothing.

Not yet.

***

A few days later, it was a rainy day.

Y/N had missed her bus. She had called Hyun-tak. Not her brother. Him.

He had run to her stop, found her soaked, shivering. She had tried to joke.

"You're allowed to tell me I'm an idiot, go ahead."

He removed his jacket without answering and placed it over her shoulders. Then, simply:

"I can't leave you like this."

They walked slowly, under an umbrella that was too small. She laughed. He blushed. And in that fine rain, he had wanted to take her hand.

But he didn't.

He didn't have the right.

Si-eun watched them from afar.

He still said nothing.

But his fists sometimes clenched, for no reason. His gaze became harder. Not towards Hyun-tak. Nor towards Y/N. Just… towards this reality he couldn't control.

He wanted to protect her. Like before. Like always.

But he also knew… that he couldn't keep her away from the world. Not forever.

And most of all, that she would choose him herself.

Even if she didn't realize it.

Even if "Gogo" remained a silly nickname in the eyes of others.

For her, he had become a landmark.

And that…

that scared Si-eun more than anything.

---

POV Hyun-tak

He should have backed away long ago.

He knew it.

He had known it the first time she ran to him with that smile too big for her still-round cheeks, when she grabbed his arm without asking permission, when she called him Gogo as if it were normal.

No one called him that. No one dared.

But she did. Without thinking. Without barriers.

And he said nothing.

He should have pushed her away, acted distant. He didn't. Because he was weak. Because in this world of chaos, blows, pain, and silence, she was light.

Not a blinding light.

A gentle flame.

Something rare. Fragile. Terribly alive.

Y/N was tactile. She always had been. She clung to the people she loved. She tugged on sleeves, tapped arms, leaned back without warning, slipped her fingers into his without realizing. And with him, it was worse.

He had tried everything to convince himself it meant nothing. That he could handle it. That he could be the one who stayed, solid, unmoving. But sometimes, when she laughed, gently hitting his shoulder, when she clung to his bag, he wanted to scream.

Scream at himself.

Because he felt too much. And she, nothing.

Not like him.

She was at an age where you live through others. Where you heal through those you think you understand. She didn't see his glances, his silences, his trembling. She didn't feel the tension in his arm when she unexpectedly hugged him. She didn't see the fire burning in his chest when she half-fell asleep on his shoulder during bus rides.

She was just herself. Spontaneous. Carefree. Without malice.

And he…

He was drowning.

He suspected Si-eun had noticed.

He wasn't blind.

He felt his gaze linger longer, heavier, when Y/N shamelessly clung to him. He saw his jaw clench, his fists tighten. He recognized that tension in his eyes, that fine blade of worry beneath his voice.

But that day, it was no longer suspicion. It was fire.

They were alone. In front of the high school. The others had left. Y/N too.

Si-eun had called him in a calm tone. Too calm. He knew that tone. It was the calm before the storm. The one used when words become more powerful than shouts.

"We need to talk."

Hyun-tak said nothing. He nodded.

They stopped at the corner of a building, by the wall, where no one lingered at that hour. It was grey. The cold wind whipped their faces.

And then Si-eun spoke. Straight into his eyes.

"You're going to stay away from her."

A blade.

Simple.

Cold.

Hyun-tak didn't flinch. But his heart skipped a beat.

"Did you hear me?"

"I heard you."

"So?"

"I… I understand."

A terrible silence.

But Si-eun didn't let up.

"Do you think I hate you?"

Hyun-tak clenched his teeth. His gaze trembled.

"No."

"Do you think I take you for a jerk?"

"No."

"Then why haven't you moved? Why do you let her cling to you? Why do you look at her like that?!"

The voice rose. And the blow landed—not a fist. Just a mental slap. A sharp word.

Hyun-tak opened his mouth. Then closed it. He felt tiny. Ridiculous. Ashamed.

But he had to speak.

"Because I love her."

The word was uttered. Slowly. Like a secret being buried. A pain being bled.

Si-eun took a step back. Not shocked. Not surprised. Just… broken.

"You love her?"

"I know I don't have the right."

"You love her?!" Si-eun repeated, his voice broken this time.

Hyun-tak felt his breath shorten.

"I love her like you love what you've never had. Like a fixed point in an unstable life. I love her because she smiles like she's never suffered. Because she still sees beauty in ugly things. Because she truly laughs. And because, when she touches me, I feel like I exist."

A silence fell.

Hyun-tak wiped away a tear before it fell.

"But I won't do anything. I swear. I never have. I never will. I'm not that kind of guy. I already hate myself enough."

Si-eun lowered his head.

And then, in a whisper:

"I respect you, Hyun-tak. You're my friend. You've saved me more than once. I'd trust you with my life. But my sister…"

He looked up.

"My sister isn't just someone. She's all I have. She's the only person I've ever wanted to protect, before myself. Before everything. You were there when she was broken. You saw her in pieces. You saw how she put herself back together. And you're important in that too. But now…"

He paused.

"Now you have to choose. Either you keep making her smile, in silence, from a distance. Or you leave."

Hyun-tak didn't answer immediately.

He felt his heart screaming. His throat was dry. His eyes burned.

But he nodded.

"I'll keep my distance."

It was a lie. Not about the action—he would do it. But about the pain. He knew he would stay. That he would burn in silence. That he would live beside her, without ever having her. That every time she touched him, he would turn away. Every time she spoke too close, he would step back. That he would become a wall.

And it would hurt.

But he would do it.

For her.

For Si-eun.

For himself.

Because sometimes, loving means staying away.

That evening, he went home, alone. He locked the door. He sat on the floor, back against the wall.

He buried his head in his arms. And he cried. Silently.

No sobs. Just tears. Burning. Relentless. Uncontrollable.

Because sometimes, the heart doesn't understand that what it wants, it cannot have.

And that even sincere, tender, honest love…

… can hurt.

And be forbidden.

---

POV HYUN-TAK

Distancing himself from her. He had decided.

It was what he had to do. What Si-eun expected. What a good friend, an honest man, would do. Not what he wanted. But since when did desires have a place in this kind of equation?

So, he put distance between them.

It wasn't brutal. Just… gradual. He replied less. No longer laughed at her jokes. No longer allowed himself to be touched. When she walked past him, he pretended to be distracted. He no longer responded to her nicknames. He no longer looked at her. At least not when she could see him.

She understood.

Not everything. But enough.

Y/N wasn't stupid. Nor blind. She had first thought it was a passing mood. Then, she insisted, a little. He held firm. Until she confronted him.

"Why are you ignoring me?" she blurted out, her brows furrowed, a tremor in her voice.

He took a deep breath.

"I'm not ignoring you. It's just… better this way."

"Better for whom?" she retorted, her voice higher.

He clenched his fists. She was there, in front of him, two steps away. Her presence consumed him. She didn't understand. And he couldn't explain.

"Y/N… I'm tired. That's all."

That's all ? A lie.

She stared at him for a long time, her lips pressed together. Then she whispered:

"It's my brother, isn't it? He said something to you."

He didn't answer. And that was the worst mistake.

She took a step back, her face frozen. Tears didn't come easily to Y/N. But her gaze… it was broken.

"It's him. You're not saying anything, so it's him."

She turned on her heel. Without another word.

Later, he learned they had argued. She and Si-eun. It wasn't common. They were bound by years of silent survival, of shared pain. But this time, she had confronted him. And Si-eun hadn't denied it.

He didn't know what they had said to each other. But the next day, she walked past him without a word.

And that… that hurt more than anything.

He swore to himself to hold on. Because even if it tore him apart, it was better this way. She needed to be free. To grow up without him in her footsteps. To become who she was meant to be, without his burning glances at her back.

But Y/N… she was a flame. And flames don't accept walls.

One day, she came back to him. He was sitting on the steps behind the gym, where he often went when he needed air.

She sat next to him without saying anything.

The silence was thick. Almost heavy.

Then she whispered:

"I'm mad at you."

He turned his head towards her. She was looking straight ahead, her legs pulled up to her chest.

"You don't understand what you mean to me. And you disappeared without warning me. Without telling me why. What do you think I am? A child? A clinging girl? I'm not stupid, Gogo."

The nickname echoed in his chest. He had to close his eyes to keep from faltering.

"Y/N, I…"

"Shut the fuck up."

She was trembling. Not from cold. From anger.

"Do you think you're helping me? You're hurting me. You're hurting me like no one else."

He didn't answer. He couldn't. Because if a single word crossed his lips, he wouldn't be able to stop. He would tell her he loved her, that he dreamed of her, that she haunted his thoughts. And he didn't have the right.

A few days later, they all got caught up in a situation that went bad.

An old score to settle with a former group. Nothing new. Except this time, Y/N was there.

She shouldn't have been there. She was never there when things got serious. But that evening, she had decided to follow Si-eun and the others, despite her classes. Maybe to keep an eye on him. Maybe to prove something to herself.

When Hyun-tak understood what was happening—the ambush, the familiar faces of those who came for them, the improvised weapons in their pockets—his blood ran cold.

He searched for Y/N with his eyes.

She was there. Too close.

"Y/N. Leave." His voice was firm.

She frowned.

"Huh? No, why?"

"Leave! Now!"

"But I…"

"Y/N! GET OUT!"

She flinched. He never yelled. Never at her. She remained frozen.

Then he grabbed her arm, pushed her towards an alley.

"You have to leave. Run until you hear nothing more. Do you understand me?!"

"But why? It's not serious, I can—"

"You shouldn't be here! Don't you understand, damn it! I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE!"

She opened her mouth. And saw it.

The look.

That of a boy who is scared. For her. Who trembles at the mere thought of her being touched. It wasn't anger. It was raw panic. Naked.

She backed away. Slowly. Then she turned on her heel.

He watched her disappear. And at that moment, he felt something within him collapse.

He had just yelled at her. Forced her to leave. As if she were a burden. As if she were a problem.

But she was none of that.

She was the only precious thing in this rotten world.

And he had pushed her away again.

The fight was short. Violent. A little disorganized. They got out of it. But in Hyun-tak's heart, something had frozen.

He wasn't afraid of dying. He was afraid she would be hurt.

When he got home that night, he clenched his fists so hard that his nails left marks.

He sat on the floor, back against the wall. Again.

And he hated himself.

Y/N, for her part, didn't come back to him in the following days. Not like before.

She looked at him from afar. Her eyes dark, hurt. Silent.

She didn't know he loved her. But she knew he had pushed her away. She knew he was keeping his distance. And for her, that was already too much.

And him?

He acted as if he was fine.

He smiled in front of the others. He laughed with Hu-min. He listened to Juntae. He talked with Si-eun, as if nothing had happened.

But as soon as she entered a room, he stopped breathing.

Because love, true love, isn't happiness.

It's a constant burn.

A fire that cannot be extinguished.

And that must be hidden so as not to burn everything down.

---

For the past few days, a new sensation had been forming within Hyun-tak. A burning he had never felt before, and one he couldn't name at first. It wasn't disgust. It wasn't jealousy. It wasn't sorrow. It was anger. Pure. Cold. Muffled. Against Si-eun.

Because he had seen Y/N crumble. He had seen her struggle against rejection, against incomprehension, against a suffering that was far too heavy for her still-teenage shoulders. And Si-eun had let her down. He had his reasons, Hyun-tak was sure of it. But that excused nothing.

He resented Si-eun for imposing this distance. For looking him straight in the eye and telling him to stay away from her. He resented him for hurting her.

And most of all, he resented himself for listening.

That night, he was on his bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. His phone vibrated once, then a second time. An alert. The location app they had installed together, as friends, as a joke. Y/N was in a weird place.

He frowned. A nightclub?

He called Si-eun immediately.

"Why is Y/N in a damn club?!"

Silence on the other end of the line. Then:

"What?!"

"Check the app. She's in a damn club. Explain to me what she's doing there?!"

He heard Si-eun's hurried movements. Then the call cut off.

Hyun-tak jumped up, pulling on a jacket. He couldn't wait. Not this time.

Y/N was already outside the club when Si-eun found her. She swayed, dishevelled, a tight black dress clinging to her slender hips. She was scarlet, her cheeks flushed, her eyes washed out by alcohol.

"What did you do, Y/N?! You just took off like that without saying anything?!"

She turned her head towards him and laughed. A bitter, grating, joyless laugh.

"You want to know? Nothing. I was just tired of being invisible. Tired of you, of Gogo, of your secrets and your orders."

He took her arm to drag her to the apartment. She walked with difficulty, dragging her feet. Halfway there, she collapsed onto the pavement, sitting down like a spoiled child.

"I don't want to go home!" she cried. "Let me go, I'm sick of you both!"

She was screaming. Hoarse, tearing cries. The kind that comes from too deep to be calmed.

"EVERYTHING is my fault, isn't it?! I don't have the right to exist as I want! I don't have the right to love the people I want! No right to live!"

"Y/N, stop…"

"NO! You're lecturing me when you've messed up my life! You and your damn silence! You're not my father, you're not even a real brother sometimes!"

And that's when Hyun-tak arrived.

He stopped dead when he saw her. Sitting on the ground. Her arms dangling. Her hair dishevelled. Her legs exposed. A dress too adult for her. A sadness too great for her body.

Something exploded inside him.

"Are you stupid or what?!" he roared. "Have you been drinking?! What did you do in that shitty club?!"

She looked up at him. And she smiled. A sad, defensive smile.

"Oh, Gogo. You came too. Great. Come lecture me too."

"Do you think this is a game?! What do you want to happen to you? Do you think we can protect you all the time, huh?!"

He was yelling. Loudly. His voice trembled. His fist was clenched, his breath short.

"Do you want us to find you in an alley, clothes torn and eyes empty?! Do you want to end up like that?!"

She sprang to her feet, stumbling.

"I'll do what I want! You're not my father either!"

"And do you think I want to be, damn it?! I-"

He cut himself off. Because he was about to say something he would regret.

Y/N was crying.

Big, painful, desperate tears. She hit her chest with her fist.

"You don't love me! No one really loves me! I'm just a damn burden!"

"That's not true!" Hyun-tak cried. "That's so untrue…"

But she wasn't listening anymore. She was still screaming. She was in ruins.

And so was he.

He took a step forward, then two. Then he stopped.

She was magnificent.

Not beautiful. Magnificent. Broken, lost, but so alive. With her red eyes, her dangling arms, her crumpled dress, her cries of pure pain. She was truth incarnate. And he loved her. God, how he loved her.

And he wanted her to hate him.

Because if she loved him… he could never let her go again.

He took her in his arms, without a word. She let him, empty. He slipped his back under her arms and lifted her against him. She was light. Burning. He carried her as one carries what one never wants to break.

She didn't speak.

Neither did he.

But their hearts screamed.

---

The sun filtered gently through the thin curtains, caressing the sheets with a warm light. Y/N slowly blinked, her stomach still knotted with the emotions from the day before. It took her a few seconds to remember where she was: there, in Hyun-tak's living room, stretched out on the old sofa he'd always refused to change.

Her throat was dry, her head heavy. And yet, something else tore her from her stupor: voices.

Voices arguing.

Gotak's, first, nervous, laced with anger.

"You think that's enough for me ?! You put a barrier between us and now you want to act like everything's fine?!"

And Si-eun's, lower, tired. But sincere.

"I don't want to separate you anymore. You're the one who's angry. Not me."

Y/N slowly sat up, straining her ears, her heart beating faster.

"I tried to do what was right," Si-eun said. "I messed up. But I thought it was what I needed to do to protect her."

"You think by moving away from her, you're protecting her? Do you know how she felt when she looked at me, not understanding why I wasn't laughing at her jokes anymore? Why I wasn't brushing against her? Why I was changing paths when she arrived?!"

"I know."

"No, you don't know. Because you only see what you want to see. She looked at me like I'd become a stranger. She smiled at me even when she was sad, and I couldn't do anything."

A pause. Then Hyun-tak's voice, lower.

"I love her, damn it."

Y/N felt her chest constrict.

Hyun-tak continued, almost in a whisper, as if he no longer had the strength to hold it back.

"I did everything to tell myself it was stupid. That it was temporary. But every time I see her, every time she touches me without even thinking about it, it's like I fall a little more. I tried to detach myself. I failed."

A thick silence followed. Y/N didn't move, frozen.

Then, the door softly closed. The voices faded away.

She then noticed a sheet of paper on the coffee table. Familiar handwriting.

It's from Si-eun, she thought.

She picked it up, and read:

"Y/N. If one day your heart races, make sure it does so for the right person. Not for an illusion. Not for a crumb of affection.

For something that burns slowly, that remains.

You've always inspired me, even if I never told you.

You've always forced me to be better, even if I denied it.

I didn't want you to fall. But I made you fall. I didn't want to distance you from those who did you good. But I did. And I won't apologize with empty words.

Just... choose someone who never asks you to hide. Who looks at you like you're worth more than the world.

I think he already does.

Oppa."

Y/N put the paper down, tears welling in her eyes.

-

Hyun-tak was on the roof. As often. Sitting on the edge, legs dangling in the void, a can of soda in his hand.

She joined him, her heart both heavy and light.

"You don't smoke anymore?"

He startled slightly, turned.

"I don't know how to do it. Have you forgotten?"

She smiled. Then sat down beside him.

Silence settled, but not heavy. Sweet. Warm.

She turned her head towards him.

"You said you. loved. me."

He blushed. Lowered his head.

"You heard..."

"Every word."

He sighed, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

"I hadn't planned for it to come out like that. But it's true. It's even worse than what I said. I've loved you for months. Maybe more. You changed me, Y/N. You taught me to laugh at my own foolishness. You made me believe that maybe I wasn't so bad. And I was scared. Because I've always been the one people look at last. The one who protects but is never chosen."

He finally turned his eyes to her.

"But with you, I wanted to be the first. The only one. And I was ashamed to want it."

She said nothing.

And then, without thinking, she leaned in and kissed him.

A sudden, clumsy, desperate kiss.

She pulled away immediately, her heart pounding, terrified.

"Sorry! I thought... I believed..."

But he didn't wait.

He placed his hand on her cheek, gently, and pulled her towards him.

And this time, it was he who kissed her.

Slowly.

Tenderly.

With that modesty and intensity that don't deceive. As if he had waited a lifetime to do it. As if he was putting everything he had never been able to say into that kiss.

His fingers trembled slightly against her neck, but his lips were sure. Her heart beat fast, too fast, as if every second could break him or save him.

When he pulled back, she had her eyes closed.

He looked at her, a shy smile on his lips.

"It wasn't a fireworks display," he said. "It was a lighthouse."

She opened her eyes.

And smiled.

Her heart stronger. Clearer.

They didn't know where it would lead them.

But it was already there.

And it was true.

.................................………………………………………

New Geum Seongje fanfictions

MY SHELLA 🤧

: Gotak watching Sieun act like he didn't do anything 😐

[crimeandpunishments]

toxic nam-gyu headcannons!

pairing(s): namgyu (player 124) x fem! reader

content warning: namgyu is a bum, dark! namgyu, emotional abuse, slight nsfw mention, non-consensual recording, drug use, coercion

word count: 384

a/n: come get y’alls juice!

> let’s get one thing straight

> he’s the guy who says “bros before hoes!”

> thrives off the approval of his group leader (i mean we’ve seen him with thanos)

> sheep mentality

> when you guys are hanging out with his friend group and one of them pulls out a plastic baggy containing a pills

> you best believe he’ll try to coerce you into taking it, practically begging you in front of his friends

> his friends will brush it off with a laugh saying it’s fine but you can feel the anger coming off of nam-gyu

> let’s just say that ended up being a looong night

> you guys argue a lot

> and he’ll gaslight you every time

> accuses you of cheating too

> constantly threatens to break up with you

> when he can see your eyes welling up, he’ll mock you for crying claiming you care too much and snicker in your face

> he doesn’t actually want to leave you (not yet at least) and you receive a weak apology from him asking you to come over

> make-up sex

> you guys don’t do dates

> well proper dates

> even if you guys do plan a proper date, like a restaurant or cafe, he’ll stand you up

> you get a text three hours after the meet up time claiming he can’t make it

> you later found out it was because he was playing video games the whole time

> speaking of games, i feel like he’s the gamer bf type

> his room is not clean at all

> there’s dirty laundry piling up on the floor, bed unkempt, mattress stained, and a lingering stench is in the air

> he would definitely have a piss bottle

> you have to hold your breath every time you come in or you’ll get whiplash

> back to the “dates”

> the so-called proper dates consists of fucking and watching him playing his games

> dark! namgyu for a bit but he’ll secretly record you on his phone

> hella hickeys kind of person

> he needs a way to mark you

> he’s also not a big after-care person so after the sex, he’ll throw you a towel with a questionable stain and tell you to clean up

> then he just goes back to his game

> but don’t worry, he will cuddle with you as you watch him play

[cigsaftsx]

GUILTY CONSCIENCE

namgyu x f!reader

inspired by anonymous request!

Synopsis: You & Namgyu were together for just over a year. A rocky relationship however. His addictions being the main reasons for this - and you had reached your limit eventually. You threw his shit out of your apartment and him along with it. He would show at your door every night - begging. But after a while, he stopped. Only a few months later, you sign up for the games but you instantly regret it when you see the familiar face of your very recent ex boyfriend.

warnings: toxic behaviour, sexual tension, sexual content/ nsfw, mentions of violence, rough content - punishment, mentions of death & threats.

You didn’t believe in hell, the devil or the consequences of sin. You lived in blissful ignorance.

Though your beliefs were tested after a game of Red light Green light.

People shot dead like cattle. Without mercy or chance. It without a doubt terrified you. This was not worth the money you so desperately needed.

During that, you hadn’t noticed him. Namgyu. Your ex. It had been a few months now so it was still fresh. Only a month ago had he stopped showing up at your door in the middle of the night - pleading for you, for your forgiveness. One night he even begged you for your pussy — you remember watching him through the keyhole, how he clung to the door, muttering against it ‘fuck, i miss you - please, baby - fuck, even your pussy. that fuckin’ pussy — c’mon, open up - you know I can make it up to you.’

You knew better than to give in, although he begged so sweetly. And, oh, how you wanted to take him back - but your anger had outweighed your pity. You’d long had enough of how his loyalty lay with his addiction more than you. Acting like his carer, a babysitter - your self respect knew better than that.

Your senses had been so blinded during the first game that you hadn’t seen him - but he saw you. Shaking and crouching down behind the player in front of you as you all formed lines of protection. His gaze set on you most of the game despite his own stress. Perhaps you being there had gave him the push he needed to get through it.

As soon as you leaped across the finish line, you fell with a thud. The impact knocking a gust of wind out of you. You sat, legs bent as your hands laid palm flat on the floor - heavy pants ripping out of your chest as the after shock set in. Tears burnt the edge of your eyes - but you can’t blink, so they don’t fall. Only when the game ends do you look around at the rest of who had made it - there was still a lot of you, but there was a significant loss. Your eyes glaze through the crowd, until they land on him. He’s staring at you across the field, stood there, his expression almost blank - but a longing laid behind his eyes. A shock that you were there, and a relief that you had made it.

You both remain like that for a moment - acknowledging each other.

Till you come to your senses - remembering how it had been, and that anger slowly slips back - so you rip your eyes away, inhale a sharp breath and force yourself to stand.

You intended to stick by your word.

You and him were over. You only hoped that your current situations didn’t pull you back together.

You headed back to the main hall. It’s sickeningly quiet as everyone climbs the stairs - no doubt in fear and shock. You’d never seen someone die before - in that way, so brutally. A million questions ripping through your head as you keep your eyes pinned to the floor. Was there a way out? How many games are there? And how long would you last until your luck would run out. You could die here.

You feel a tug on your sleeve, the weight causing you to stumble down a step as you whip your head around.

Namgyu looks up at you.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He says, clutching to your sweaters sleeve. You try to tug your arm away but his grip is too tight. Players start moving around you both to carry on up the stairs.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You hiss, challenging him.

He shifts his footing, swallowing a hard lump in his throat. You both knew the answers. You both needed the money. Although he hadn’t expected you to be in a place like this - playing for money. He remembers how you would scold him for gambling. Yet here you are.

His silence lets you realise that this place wasn’t actually out of character for him, so asking him now seemed a little silly. You are both aware of his greed — how he blows through his savings for a score. You exhale, yanking your arm hard enough so that your sleeve leaves his grip properly this time.

“I have bills. Outstanding ones.” You explain, turning away to continue up the stairs. He’s quick to catch up, walking at your side like a lost puppy.

“Listen — we’ve been played. These fuckers are killing people — like this is some SAW movie level shit, so we gotta stick together, yeah?” He says, eagerly, almost pleading with you as his hand comes up to grip your sweaters material. You could laugh in his face if you weren’t so sick to your stomach with what you had just witnessed. You simply shake your head, keeping your eyes ahead.

“You don’t know anyone here, right? So you’ve only got me. Let’s just —"

You cut him off before he gets the chance to continue, snapping your head to him.

“Are you fucking dumb?” You snap, glaring at him.

“We’re split, Namgyu — over. Okay? I have no intention of rekindling that, especially not here — not when my life’s at risk.” You come across mean, you can admit that. But for him to be so clingy and caring now? After everything? Yeah, it pisses you off.

He glares at you.

“So let’s just - not. Okay? Leave me the fuck alone.” You finish, staring into his eyes for a moment before turning away and heading up the stairs one by one. Your heart aches — as though seeing him now had brought all your old feelings back. You knew your feelings for him hadn’t gone, not really. But you have to stay strong - for yourself, for your own respect. You figured you had to keep a clear head to survive this and being around him wouldn’t help that.

“Fucking cunt.” He mutters, loud enough for you to hear.

You whip your head over your shoulder at him - he’s smiling. Not a nice smile, but one of those smiles he’d pull when you would once argue. A bitter smile. An evil one. You don’t even bother to reply, so you turn back and continue up. An argument deemed pointless.

When it came to voting, you felt relieved. The idea that there could be a way out was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You only hope everyone else shares the same mindset - surely they would? But that concept left your head whirling when people voted for O. Your stomach twisting — unbearably so, an anxiety you couldn’t just ignore as the pace of your heart batters against your chest. They were taking the lead. And as Namgyu approached the podium and hit O without any hesitation? Your jaw fell slack. Though you didn’t feel so surprised. Just sick. Sick of him. Your eyes follow him as he heads over to the O side of the arena, standing next to Thanos who you were vaguely familiar with. Namgyu had spoken about him to you before - rather passionately at that - you remember telling him not to get involved. Of course, he hadn’t listened.

When your turn came, you stood there for a moment, staring down at the buttons. You really needed the money. But was it enough to risk your own life? You shudder at the intensity of the choice. You hear a little whistle from behind you so you turn and Namgyu is staring at you, smiling darkly. He makes an O shape with his hands as though to sway your choice. That was enough for you to whip around and bring your fist down onto X.

You take the badge and strap it to your chest.

You wanted out.

You don’t even spare him a glance as you head to opposite side. He watches you all the way there, jaw visibly clenching in frustration.

O still won the vote.

The hall was quiet when it came to dinner. You kept to yourself, sat on your bottom bunk as you looked down at the serving. Sweet potato and water. That was it. Despite not having the appetite, you settle on keeping your strength up. You reluctantly take the potato and sink backward till your back hits the wall of your bunk. A soft sigh escaping you as you take a bite.

Your eyes flicker over to Namgyu’s group. They’re all taking, plotting probably. But Namgyu is staring at you. He felt bad about calling you a fucking cunt — kind of. More so like he is kicking himself, knowing that wouldn’t be the way to win you over and as soon as he sees you looking, he gets up. You’re quick to avert your gaze back down to your food, burying your head. You know he’s coming over, but you pray he doesn’t. You just take another bite - your face heating up, not wanting another confrontation.

You only hear his foot falls coming closer and stopping at the edge of your bed.

You don’t look up.

He knocks on the metal frame of your bed. As though knocking on a door. You squeeze your eyes shut before looking up at him, he’s leaning his forearms on the overhead of the bunk beds frame. Food box in hand.

Your annoyed glare is enough for him to bring his hands up into a surrender pose.

“Easy, baby — I come in peace.” He mocks, the slight grin on his face making you grimace.

“Go awa—“ He sits down on your bed with an exaggerated exhale before you can tell him to leave. You huff, pulling your legs upward and away from him, eyes rolling as he gets comfy, crossing his legs boyishly.

He places down his food box between you, his potato untouched. You stare at it before your eyes flicker up to him.

He’s smiling proudly, nodding down at the food before nudging the box toward you.

“Eat.”

You frown. “I already have.”

“Then eat more. I saved mine for you.” He picks up the potato and holds it in front of your face, nodding his chin toward it as though enticing you to have a bite. Was this really his idea of apologising? Some weak attempt at winning you over? You wouldn’t fall for it. Though inside? You’d love to lean over and take a sweet bite, all the while keeping your eyes on his. To tease, but you shrug the thought away. You’re over, you remind yourself.

“What is this? A peace offering?” You mock, harshly.

Namgyu’s arm slacks slightly, his elbow coming to rest on the bed though he keeps his hand upward with the potato in his grip. Almost giving in, but he’s not so easily defeated. He likes the chase, admittedly. Though his patience isn’t his strong suit.

“Call it what you want. I’m being kind, aren’t I?” He says, his tone sort of defeated, his smile faltering ever so slightly. You don’t say anything, dumbfounded by his stupidity. His full smile comes back then, convinced that your silence means you’re coming round to him. He extends his arm fully again.

“See? Now drop the bitch act and have some. I know you want to.”

You figure you’re still hungry. But you wouldn’t give into him so easily. You swat his wrist away from your face, the potato falling from his grip and rolling away onto the floor. You both watch it go. You didn’t exactly intend to discard the food like that - to dirty it on the floor, but you figure it would help get your point across. He looks back at you, smile gone - mouth agape. You look back.

“Fuck off.” Is all you say.

You look back down and unscrew the lid of your water cockily, bringing it to your lips but it splatters over you when he smacks it out your grip - then leaning forward to twist his grip into your sweater - pulling your toward him. You grip his wrist with both hands as you come face to face with him. Alas, you knew his patience was hanging thin. You took some pleasure in that.

“What do I gotta do, hm?” He hisses out, close enough that shouting wasn’t necessary. A pleading laced his tone - almost desperate and it reminds you of he would beg outside your door of a night time.

“Tell me — What? You wanna hear me say sorry? Hm?” He tugs on your sweater a few times. You just stare at him. He had been a shitty boyfriend. An apology would be nice — but you knew that wouldn’t cut it. Not at all. You’re not frightened or intimidated in the slightest - in fact, hearing him like this washes a sense of longing over you which you wished would go away. It would be so much easier to hate him. Spit in his face and call him a loser. Curse him. Push him away. But you don’t. You just watch him, your eyes flickering into both his eyes.

He stares back, his face a frustrated scowl.

A few moments pass like that and he visibly calms down. Eyes dropping downward. He unlaces his hand from your sweater and you thinks he’s done until he places his palm firmly on the side of your neck. Fingers groping the back of your head. The placement alone felt familiar to a threat. You swallow hard. A shaky exhale leaves him, the warmth of it fanning your face from the proximity.

“Here’s what’s ‘gonna happen.” He says, nodding to himself with his eyes shut. Though he’s talking to you, it also looks like he’s talking to himself - like he’s confirming the plan in his own head.

You only glare quietly, almost a little worried for what he’s about to say.

“In the next game, whatever it is — you’re with me.” He opens his eyes. They’re dark, menacing - but keen. Almost protective and extremely demanding.

“You’re also gonna press O for me tomorrow, aren’t you? Not like you did today — pressing X like a fucking traitor.”

You go to shake your head no but he stills your head with his grip and nods yes.

“Yes. You are.” He says firmly. A sly smile creeping onto his expression. You’re too tired to argue, so you let him have this. You know inside that come tomorrow? You won’t be anywhere near him. You feel strong inside knowing that. Knowing you can take that power from him. But for now? Play the game. So you stay silent.

“I’m gonna take care of you.” He continues. He speaks so confidently and proud. As though in his head he feels like he’s wooing you. His grip on your face loosens and he pats your cheek condescendingly. Before you know it he’s swinging his legs off the side of your bed and standing up - leaning forward to rest his forehead against the frame, looking down at you.

“You know where I am if you get cold in the night.” He drawls, as he runs his eyes down your figure before they snap back to your eyes. You can’t deny the flutter in your stomach when he says that, and a soft little exhale pushes through your lips as you glare upward to him.

He smiles, and steps backward a few times — looking proud before he spins around to walk back over to his group.

Once he’s a fair distance away, you let the breath you’d held escape.

By the next day you had managed to avoid him all morning. Stayed out of sight - even switched to a bed further away from your old one so he’d be confused.

And even better, come the next game - the six legged pentathlon? You’d already wormed your way into a nice group before he could even get near you. You could hear him pleading with Thanos to keep one space available in their group while he looked for you and it didn’t take him long to find you standing with a bunch of strangers. He paces over to you, frowning.

“Been lookin’ for you all morning, let’s go.” He grabs your sweater and goes to pull you but you yank your arm back.

“I have a group.” You say sternly.

Namgyu eyes the group and scoffs a laugh. “Please. These fuckin’ losers?”

You cross your arms, clearly standing your ground. His jaw flex’s sternly, and before he goes to say anymore, Thanos calls for him.

“Nam-Su! We got a full team - move your ass!” Namgyu doesn’t look over, his sight still harshly trained down into you - viper like. You can’t help but smile at Thanos getting his name wrong.

“Go on, Nam-su.” You tease.

He grinds his teeth - annoyed that you picked up on that. It’s one of his biggest pet peeves. Instead of arguing, he steps backward and turns on his heel, heading back. Shooting you a glare over his shoulder as he does. You knew that you’d hear what he has to say later. But for now, you needed focus.

As people played in the groups, the crowds of the players slowly began to celebrate them. Shouting and encouraging them - and it felt wonderful. During this, your team had befriended another. Gi-Hun’s team. Both your teams celebrating together as the playing teams won each individual game. And it was quick how friendly you and Dae-Ho became. Clutching onto one another in rejoice when other teams actually passed the game.

Namgyu, however, seethes in rage as he watches you cling to Dae-Ho’s arm when you yell in thrill. Thanos bumps his shoulder into Namgyu’s.

“Hey — bro, isn’t that your ex señorita?” He quips, eyeing you - frantic mid high.

Namgyu doesn’t reply, glaring ahead.

“Shit, it is. Bro — that’s crazy disrespectful, bro. Shit — look at the way she’s clinging onto that guy.” Thanos continues, not helping Namgyu’s obvious frustration. In fact it only fuels him. Dangerously. This was his limit.

You watched Namgyu’s team then. Finding yourself hoping they’d pass, annoyingly. Yes. Yours and his situation was very rocky - bordering toxic. Yet deep down, your feelings still remained. Rather strongly. You pushed him away only in the hopes that it’d be easier to get over him. And obviously, the last thing you wanted was him dead.

They passed, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

Your team then passed with flying colours too. The occasional stumble but you had made it and as you head back to the hall, you can’t help but think about Namgyu. You’re just glad he’s okay, nothing more, you tell yourself. You had to keep strong against him. Against your own mind.

You gnaw at your lip though — remembering you would have to deal with him once you’re back. Your disobedience earlier would be an issue for him.

You decide to avoid him and stick with your group until the next vote rolled around.

They call your number up and make sure not to spare him a glance. You decided the cold way was the best way.

You press X.

You suspect you’d get an ear full from him eventually.

But surprisingly, he didn’t try for the rest of the evening. Maybe because you were sat with your new friends, or maybe because he’d truly given up — that your coldness toward him had shooed him away. Either way, as hard as it is, you feel a relief. That you don’t have to worry about him hanging over your shoulder any more.

So you head to bed at peace.

You wake at some point however. It’s dark — only the sound of breathing and an occasional snore was all that could be heard. Everyone sleeping. You squeeze your eyes shut and roll over. Then roll over again. Trying to get back to sleep felt impossible. You roll onto your back with a huff - staring up at the ceiling, reaching up to rub your eye when you feel the texture of long dried blood on your face still. Probably from the first game.

The thought of it still being on you makes your stomach churn so you roll out of bed and pace toward the door — knocking twice — a moment passes. A pink guard answers.

“I need the bathroom.” Is all you whisper. They grant you the access.

You hadn’t noticed Namgyu trailing not far behind.

You’re very precious about your hygiene. In here, it isn’t a concept. Not respected. So as you look into the bathroom mirror, you grimace at the sight of old blood scattered across your face. Wasting no time on running the tap and scrubbing yourself clean of it. Once you’re done, you only sigh, gripping the sinks counter as you look into the mirror.

You need to go home.

Dropping your head as a tear brims your eyes — having a moment alone meant time to think — reflecting on the actual weight of this situation. Thinking about your family — friends.

You miss them.

How you had taken them for granted so.

You sniff and dry your tears and face with your palms, combing your fingers through your hair frantically until you look reasonably put together. The last thing you wished for was to look weak.

With a heavy sigh you looked upon yourself again and nodded - trying to encourage yourself. You push your weight off the sink and head back toward the door. You open it.

And there’s Namgyu, waiting.

Looking erratic and unkept. Your mind races for a moment — quickly deciding this was a bad situation and instinctively you slam the door in his face. He’s quick to react though, pushing against it — wedging his body through the remaining gap.

He’s a lot stronger than you.

And he overpowers you with ease, slamming the door open - causing you to stumble backward into the bathroom. Your eyes blow wide — scared. He fucking followed you here in the dead of night. Had he been awake the whole time — watching you? Waiting for the perfect opportunity?

“Hey, you fuck.” He seethes, taking a few steps in before slamming the door behind him. It was the only way out and now he’s blocking it. Leaving you with no options. You continue a few more steps backward before you buck it toward a bathroom stall with the hopes of locking yourself in. But he’s too fast. It’s merely a second before you feel him twist a fist into your hair and yank you backward - falling into him. You cry out, helpless — but not quite as you seize the opportunity to bring an elbow backward and into his gut — hard.

You hear an oof noise gust out of his mouth and he releases his grip momentarily. That hurt him, you note. You turn and he’s clutching his stomach, hurdled over so you step around him fast — making it toward the door as you yank it open desperately with a cry.

His hand shoots out next to your head — palm flush against the door, slamming it shut. Caging you in.

“You fucking traitor —" He says into your ear, his tone different — more erratic and frantic, emphasising the word traitor. Sounding how he would when he’d come home late at night, high. But he couldn’t be high. Surely? Then you think about Thanos. His reputation makes you question whether he smuggled something in.

“Namgyu—“ You choke out, about to plead with him until he yanks your body around to face him — shoving your back against the door.

“Look at me when you use my fucking name.”

You look up at him, your expression showing worry — unsure of his intent. A silent plea glosses your eyes as your chest heaves heavily.

He peers down at you like a predator to prey. A line of sweat across his forehead, his hair messed and greasy — curtaining his face.

“Did you enjoy yourself today?” He asks sarcastically, a sickening grin forming on his face as he grips your jackets collar with both hands.

“Get the fuck off me.” You hiss - gripping at his wrists to give yourself some stability in his clutches. You raise your chin up at him to show whatever bravery still remained in you. He breathily laughs at that. He’s reached his limit now, remaining patience he had has finally spanned out of control - gone. He’s like an electric wire - snipped in half, whirling and sizzling.

He makes a sad awww noise lowly, as though to mock you - pouting his lips out as if to feel sorry for you. “I tried to play nice, y/n.” Namgyu whines out childishly, a hand coming around the back of your neck to hold there firmly. You try to resist his clutches but he’s too demandingly strong - his other hand coming to pet the side of your face.

“But you didn��t want to — What? Was me being sweet to you not good enough?” He continues with his tone, as though he were speaking you as if you’re lower than him — his childish and condescending tone being enough to irritate you beyond. Yet you can’t say anything, admittedly scared. Not scared of him — or maybe a little, but scared about your willpower. You’d grown less angry toward him — which only meant you were growing soft. You weren’t sure how much longer you could take before your act would crumble and you come crawling back to him.

You merely whine in his grip — he enjoys that, smiling.

“So wha’ do I gotta do to make you drop this bitch act?” He says, craning his head down to meet your eye level - brows raising.

“Do I have to fuck it out of you?”

Your eyes widen a little. Oh god. Your mind betraying you in an instant when you think back to all the times you were both up late — fucking. About how he’d sometimes take you bent over the kitchen counter, stuffing his cock in you from behind — your bodies riving together like dogs in heat. All sweat and name calling —— telling you how much he loves your sweet fucking cunt.

You instinctively press your legs together. Desperate to ignore the growing heat between them.

Of course, he notices that. His eyes flickering down briefly to your legs before snapping them back up to you. An ever so soft gasp — exaggerated, leaves his gaping mouth. You forget he knows you. Like, really knows you and not just that but your body.

He knows when you’re happy - sad, but especially knows when you’re turned on. He takes pride in that now, wearing that realising expression on his face with pride as he straightens up, mouth agape and still dragging out his degrading gasp. You can only glare - your resolve slowing pulling down that facade you’d held for so long.

He brings his lower lip into his mouth to gnaw on it, humming a uh uh - with a head shake saying ‘no.’ He jams a foot in between yours and kicks your legs apart. He knows exactly what you’re fucking feeling and he won’t let you get away with it.

“You haven’t got a door to hide behind now, have you?” He mutters, referring to the times he’d show up begging for you back - and how you’d hide behind your door to avoid him. Not this time.

He leans in close.

“I fucking see you.” He seethes, face dangerously close to yours. You can’t help the quiver of your lip and desperate plea across your face. You feel your kept responsibility fading - slowly crumbing beneath him - the ache in your pussy now turning into a throb.

You close your eyes, leaning your head back against the door - trying to muster your remaining strength to resist him.

“Yeah.” He drawls out slowly, nodding — “That’s right, you’re just a fucking tease, aren’t you?”

He’s playing his own game now. You had managed to push him over the edge, to break his patience. You’d took great pleasure in that. But now it was his turn. His turn to break you.

And you simply can’t take anymore.

“Stop this, Namgyu — please.” You whine out — breaking your silence. Your hands hesitantly come up to curl into his shirt - clutching tightly - pulling yourself forward to rest your forehead against his chest in defeat with a thump. Burying your face to hide the shame of your surrender. You just simply melt against him — finally. Inhaling softly, smelling his smell - the familiarity of it - even the warmth of his chest as it heaves against your head. You swear you hear his heart thrumming.

You don’t feel any distain toward yourself as you press against him like this. Maybe a sense of guilt — but your feelings for him come plummeting back in the second you touch him. Smell him. This is you giving in. Waving the white flag and you only hope he accepts it.

You stay like that for what feels like a lifetime. The anticipation of his next move eating you alive.

You feel his hand pet through the hair on-top your head. The corner of your lips upturn a little — relieved.

“So, who’s the cocksucker you got all cosy with today from that fuck-head group?”

You still, eyes opening with an impending sense of dread.

He isn’t done. You swallow the hard ache now forming in your throat.

“What?” You whisper, unable to let yourself look up at him - shocked that your psychical submission hadn’t worked a charm. You note how he’s still petting your hair, softly — too softly, given the context of his question.

“You heard me.” He replies — his voice eerily calm.

You already know he’s referring to Dae-Ho. But you also know that it wasn’t anything like that. You realise how hard it’s gonna be to convince him otherwise. You take a shaky breath in - mustering courage as you crane your head to look up at him slowly - still clutching to his chest as though he were keeping you afloat.

He looks down at you with a soft, expecting smile.

You can’t find your words — too worried to say the wrong thing.

He raises his brows once - nodding ever so slightly, like he’s encouraging you to reply. But there was nothing you could say that would explain the situation better than a:

“It’s nothing like that.”

Namgyu stays smiling. “Clutching and smiling with a man you’ve never met? — that’s nothing?”

You can’t move — speak. The idea of defending yourself felt suddenly useless. All you can do is nod your head - rather frantically - desperate to plead your innocence. He’s still petting his hand through your hair — and you’re starting to become overly aware that his actions, expression and tone aren’t aligning with the things he’s saying. It makes you anxious.

“You did it to fuck with me. Didn’t you?”

“ — No, Gyu.”

“Gyu? Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking idiot and get cute — it’s a little late for that.” He retorts quick, smiling fading - shutting down your attempts at calling him by the shortened version of his name that you had done when you were once together.

He looks away from you and ahead - as though in thought. You still remain holding onto him - looking upward, not liking the silence he know plays into. Suspence being your worst enemy.

“Please.” Is all you can muster - not liking the contemplation on his face.

He takes in a sharp inhale - his shoulders dropping dramatically on the exhale.

“Maybe in the next game I’ll make sure he doesn’t see it though — and his little shitfuck group.” He begins, returning his gaze downward to you.

“Just to set an example.” He finishes, bringing his head downward a little closer to you as he says that — to whisper, to twist the knife. Your blood runs cold — a shudder rippling through your body which breaks your stillness — shifting your footing. He’d kill them. He’d fucking kill them.

Just to prove a point.

“No.” You plea, moving your hands upward to clutch onto his shoulders now - desperate. You don’t want their deaths on your conscience — to be responsible for it.

Namgyu only nods sweetly, his smile vaguely returning as if to shut down your debate.

“Or maybe I’ll take you out there now — lay you down,” He pauses to clutch either sides of your face - thumbs pressing into your flushed cheeks. You whine at his grip.

“And fuck you. Nice and loud — make sure to wake ‘em up — make ‘em watch. Just so they know exactly who you belong to.”

He’s close enough to place the slightest ghost of a kiss against the corner of your mouth — barely touching — before putting his forehead against yours, eyes staring heavily into your own. He sways you softly in his hold and despite the seeming sweetness of it — you know it’s a threatening one.

“How’s that sound?” He asks.

As much as his words, shamefully, sent your head into a spin — you knew he’d actually do it. The killing or the fucking. But surely those weren’t your only options here, so you bravely decide on a third. Which means complete submission, which honestly? You didn’t now mind the idea of.

You’d lost the slither of self respect you had.

He won.

You needed him.

As shameful as it is.

Your eyes roll closed, pushing against his forehead with yours — cat like, needy. Flexing your hands on his shoulders to tighten your grip — clinging onto him, raising onto your tippy toes in order to feel closer. Though your height against his doesn’t give you much more of an advantage.

“There’s only you.” You whisper. The truth now spilling out your mouth - a confession. A sick one. Proving that he had won - and that you didn’t mind.

You hadn’t been with anyone else through the duration of your time apart. It wasn’t possible for you — even the concept of someone else’s hands on your body that weren’t his made you sick. You had been incapable of moving on — all you had left during that time was your self respect. That had been enough to close him off.

But now?

That fell apart.

You’re close enough hear his breath hitch.

“Say that again.”

You hear him say — his voice low. The sound of it enough to make your stomach twist — your pussy clench, and your head spin. You writhe in his hold sweetly - uncontrollably moving to graze your lips across his cheek, smearing.

“There was never anyone else.” You continue, your voice low and timid despite the confidence of your confession. You hear his lips puff out a breath — his jaw going slack as your continue your lips across to the other side of his face, only the slightest touch though — no kisses, just a soft graze.

You remember him enjoying that in the past.

Yet you can’t take anymore as your lips move above his — hovering there. As soon as you plant a kiss on him — you’re truly done for. You wouldn’t be able to be apart from him ever again — you wouldn’t want to be.

You softly come closer to plant the ghost of a kiss on his bottom lip - so soft he hardly feels it. You gulp hard - and as you move in to properly kiss him, he pulls his head back.

You let out a desperate gasp from the separation - eyes shooting open to look at him. His expression — blank. You can’t help the furrow knitting your brows together, confused. Desperately confused. You open your mouth to say something - but you can’t find the words.

“Say you’re sorry.” He says blankly.

You don’t say anything - your expression remaining.

“Say you’re sorry for playing the bitch — and fucking mean it.”

A little noise leaves you. Your eyes batting into his — you knew better than to think you could just get your way after that shit you pulled with him. You conclude that maybe his willpower is much stronger than yours. Proving so when after a moment or two in silence, you apologise.

“I’m sorry for playing the bitch, Namgyu.”

He doesn’t look convinced. You swallow hard.

“I acted like a bitch when you were trying to be nice. I should’ve been grateful — I’m sorry, I’m very sorry, Namgyu.”

He smiles then, almost condescendingly proud of you. He likes it when you play nice.

“Good.” He says.

“Now beg me for it.”

“Beg me for a kiss like a good girl.”

You practically shudder at that. He knows exactly what you want but he tells you exactly how you’ll get it. If it were you from yesterday, you’d give him a good slap to the face. But the mumbling mess you are now? Clinging to him? Like a desperate bitch? You don’t find much issue in it despite the shyness now parading your body.

“P-please.” You mumble out, eyes darting downward and back up to him — struggling to look him in the eyes, your new timidness achingly obvious.

“Kiss me — please, kiss me, Gyu.”

“Are you fucking stupid?” He cuts you off, almost laughing. His degrading makes you feel so fucking small beneath him — like every emotion you’re feeling is crashing down and suffocating you. You stutter to a silence when he cuts you off — unsure what you did wrong.

“That’s not how you beg.”

“Get on your fucking knees and beg me properly.” He bites, taking a step back away from you, his expression hard and demanding. Making it very obvious that he’s not fucking joking.

You could whine as he steps away from you — the lack of his warmth as the cold air of the bathroom hits your body. Standing alone like this - in such a mess - only adds to your shame.

And the shame only adds to your desperation.

You hesitate for a moment - before you slowly kneel, keeping your eyes pinned to the floor from embarrassment. Your limp trembling — so fucking upset at how easily you had lost your control. But more so upset at the realisation that you truly needed him — generally. Not just sexually.

Your palms flatten against the cold floor - sheepishly raising your eyes to look up at him.

He tightens his jaw - lips pressed into a straight thin line, just waiting.

You knew he had an insecurity issue. When you were together you could remember him rambling on about Thanos — how he tried to win him over, to get into his group. Attempts of free drinks - drugs, he’d even complain about Thanos getting his name wrong. All signs of an insecure man. You thought it was cute really - but it was obvious here that he wasn’t gonna let you get your way until he was certain in himself that you fucking meant it.

He needed to hear it from you.

To stabilise his insecurity — his jealousy.

But he also takes a great pride in seeing you this way. On your knees — below him, like a beggar to scraps. It makes him feel strong.

Your lips tremble as you struggle to find the words.

“Namgyu —” You try, already dropping your head to the floor from embarrassment and struggle. You breathe deep - bringing your head back up.

“ — I need you. Please, I — I’m sorry. I tried to stay away, I did.” You pause, your words achingly truthful and you come to clutch the ankle of his pants desperately.

You stay like that for a moment.

“I can’t help myself around you.” You confess - lips parting as you stare up at him. Yet his expression doesn’t change — he doesn’t move, nothing. Your chest burning as you try to think of something better to say — something to gage a reaction from him. You’re desperate.

“I’ll even stay away from everyone else in here — I mean it, I don’t need them — just you,” You continue to plead.

“Just you.” You finish with a genuine whisper.

But still, nothing.

And the next second, you crumble with an aching sob — not crying, just a noise of defeat as you lower your eyes away from him. You’d never felt shame so sore, eyes burning into the floor — unblinking — trembling. Feeling like the world around you is swallowing you whole.

Namgyu slowly kneels down to meet your height a moment later - your eyes shooting to him as he does.

His mouth slightly agape, almost looking fascinated by you. Almost surprised that you actually did what he asked. He settles into a squat position in front of you - his wrists on his knees as his hands dangle. You can only stare in anticipation, hoping and hoping that it was enough to let him set you free of this shame.

You both let a moment of silence pass between you.

“You’re a fucking mess.”

You stare in disbelief — his cruelness exceeding anything you’d ever witnessed from him.

He’d truly broke you down.

He stays staring at you and you see the contemplation on his face — you could only wonder what he’d have you do next. His eyes drop down, then back up.

Yet, he decides you’ve had enough. His expression softening, a hand reaching out to you.

“C’mere.” He says and you waste no time and take his hand — letting him pull you against him, your head slack on his shoulder as you move together to find a comfy position on the floor as you slot sideways into his lap - your legs slinging across his thighs.

“That’s it.” He encourages quietly, muttering against you as you melt into his arms as they wrap around you - one hand coming to guide your face to look at him.

“C’mere.” He whispers again, palming beneath your chin and planting a soft kiss on your lips, “There, all better — see?” He mummers, lips still against your mouth and you practically melt, your stomachs knot untwisting — a low whine that you held in for so long pouring out of you - nodding slowly in bliss.

He plants another one on you — less firm and more lazy, slow, like he’s also giving into it - you return it with the same amount of effort. Your lips both smearing against one another’s — slowly wetting with spit, the wet sound of that alone pools a growing wetness in between your legs.

His hand slips behind your head, fingers threading into your hair — petting, like he’s easing you down from the brink of humiliation you were in a second ago. Though his pride still remains - his ego now had been fed, a belly full.

“I knew you’d come around.” He mutters into your mouth in between kisses — like he has to carry on, to degrade despite giving in to what you want. To twist the knife — to keep you on your toes. You’re too carried away to even reply — like an addict getting their score, hungry and eager. Deprived for so long.

“Hmm?” He hums, hand slipping from your head, sloping down your neck and moving to palm one of your tits over your top with an abrupt - hard squeeze. A soft moan leaves you though it’s captured in your mouth mid kiss. You bring a hand to cover his - encouraging him to squeeze again - but he swats your hand away like a fly.

He pulls back from the kiss to look down to see better - you latch onto his neck with your mouth as he does which draws a soft hiss out of him - baring his teeth a little.

He pushes his hand under your top - soothing up your side till he pushes under your bra blindly — pinching your pebbled nipple with his index and thumb. This causing you to gasp, your body jolting in his lap.

Namgyu looks back to you, teeth still lightly bared in a gritty smile as he continues playing with your nipple below your top.

“Still like that, huh?” He hisses, swirling his index finger.

You nod, dazed, so he squeezes your nipple hard again to coax out a reply.

“Yes!” You pant out, “I like it — feels good.”

“That’s better, use your words like the little slut I know you are.”

He looks back down to your body riving and twitching in his lap - humming low in his throat as he pulls his hand out from under your top - palm flush against your skin as it travels down to your lower stomach, rubbing softly. The mere touch sending shivers through your body.

“Dunno how you resisted this like you did — I mean, shit — look at you, you’re practically shaking.”

He mocks, a single finger slipping under your waistband — stroking the skin there — toying with you.

Your hips instinctively twitch upward - unable to bare with the suspense of his lingering touch. “Namgyu.” you whine, pleading with him.

You grab his wrist, silently telling him to carry on - the feeling of your pussy wetting, going untouched - felt unbearable. Your head rests on his shoulder, your eyes peaking up at him.

“Please.”

He smiles to himself before looking at you.

There’s a pause in the air — the look on his face giving you slight concern.

“You’re gonna vote O tomorrow.”

Your mouth slightly falls open. He isn’t asking, he’s telling. But you don’t want to. You still wanted to leave — leave with him.

“I want to go home.” You whisper.

His smile stays, a low single laugh in his throat causing his shoulders to bounce in amusement - his hand now working it’s way under your waistband - all the way down to greedily palm your clothed pussy — firmly. He keeps his sights pinned on you as you gasp at the sudden connection - the firmness of his grip giving you a mix of unease and pleasure.

“Don’t be so fucking selfish.” He coos, smile dropping into a harsh expression - his face twitching meanly as he grinds down the ball of his palm firmly into your clit, still shielded by your panties - no doubt already feeling the dampness collecting there. Your breath hitches, a soft whimper slipping out.

“Please Gyu —” You groan out, tightening your grip on the wrist of his hand in your pants.

“Get your fucking hand off me.” He cuts you off - tone so harsh that you withdraw your hand instantly.

Your lip quivers - your mind unable to balance out the dread of the conversation and the pleasure whirling in your stomach.

“You could press X — we could leave together.” You mutter out between pants, foolishly really. You should’ve thought before you said that as his face stills. Within a second he’s pushing under your panties and running his fingers through your wet folds - a cracked moan ripping out of you.

“Is me playing with your pussy making you dumb?” He hisses, wasting no time in slipping his fingers down and pushing two into your tight hole with a harsh, wet plunge. The intensity of it causes your body jolt upward, a pleasured cry coming from your parted lips as you cling to him tightly to his chest - your eyes rolling closed in bliss. Your head rolls forward and down but he’s quick to grab a fistful of your hair with his free hand and yank your head back up.

“Eyes on me.” He says through gritted teeth, curling his fingers against your walls harshly — sweetly as you tremble, barely managing to keep your eyes open but you try your best as you look at him.

“What’s tomorrow’s vote?” He says, raising his brows slightly as he pulls his fingers out to only push them back in, softer this time though, the sound of your pussy squelching around his digits loud enough for you both to hear.

Your need to go home is excruciating—your need for safety and stability. Wishing for all the simple things like the sun on your skin and the comfort of your own bed. Your family. Friends. In here, you can’t handle the crushing possibility of never having see or feel those things again. Yet those needs crumble away under him. Your mind whirling out of control, unable to even comprehend the right thing to do. All you feel right now is how your tight hole clenches around his ruthless fingers as they sloppily plunge in and out of you.

You look at him through heavy lids that so desperately want to close over and enjoy. Your face showing your inner battle as it contorts - the tremble in your lip making it apparent to Namgyu that you’re about to give into his wishes.

“O.” you whisper faintly - sadly.

He presses his lips into yours — roughly.

You don’t even have a second to adjust - opening your mouth for a breath but he shoves his tongue in to swirl against yours greedily, his fist in your hair pressing your head closer - your jaw already aching from the feverish kiss. He slides his fingers back out briefly you feel before he adds a third, pushing them in slower as they struggle through the tightness of your seeping hole. You only return the kiss more aggressively then, feeling so full - so fucking full.

Your lips smear and slide wetly against his - open mouthed, breathing growing heavier as your mind plummets. You can’t get enough of it as you unleash all that pent up aggression back onto him - taking his bottom lip into your teeth as you bite — drawing a hiss from him. He places his thumb onto your clit then - grounding onto it in a circular grind and you yank your head from the kiss - throwing your head back, a loud moan leaving you.

“For someone so fucking scared, you shouldn’t be this wet.” He mutters, bringing his head near yours just to be able to see the look on your face as he fucks you with his fingers.

“I mean, listen to that.” He says, twisting his fingers in you - a loud sloshing noise apparent as you ooze around his fingers. Your breath catches when you feel your orgasm building - a ripped whine coming out of your gaping mouth. He grins small knowing you’re close.

“Yeahh, there you go.” He coos, picking up the pace of his fingers as they plunge deep against that sweet spot - lips placing a kiss on your chin. Your chest heaves suddenly, on the brink of cumming. He yanks your head back up, wanting to see your face.

It comes crashing down on you the next second - your muscles seizing and your pussy clenching around his fingers tightly, gushing onto them. You cry out a moan, burying your head into his neck as he fucks you through it - slowly slowing the pace of his fingers.

“That’s it.” He whispers, your hips rocking against his hand - any noise coming out of you being complete nonsense, all mumbles and dying moans which slowly change into gentle pants.

He pulls his fingers out of you, whispering a faint “fuck” when he sees your wetness and cum slathered all over his fingers. You open your heavy eyes - he’s already looking at you.

“Made such a mess.” He says, showing you his fingers before brining out his tongue to lap them once - tasting you. You can only whine at the sight of it and he hums softly in enjoyment.

He looks to you after a moment — noting the tired expression on your face. He simply leans to place a soft kiss on your lips, a hand holding the side of your face. You wished it could last forever. That you didn’t have to go back to face the reality again — the reality that by tomorrow you’d be dead. Or him.

So you decide to make the most of tonight.

So that night you slept in his bed.

Authors note: this took me way longer that it should’ve but i fucking loved writing this. ty for the request and hope you all enjoy. please please send more requests for fics so i can bring them to life. love you all. ❤️❤️❤️

[writersblockiskillingme]

Player 222 | Seong Gi-hun

Pairing: Seong Gi-hun x fem!reader (member of Gi-hun's team!reader)

Summary: After surviving absolute hell, Gi-hun finally returns home, but this time, he's not alone.

Warning/s: SQUID GAME SEASON 3 SPOILERS!!, fluff, hurt/comfort and just a bit of angst (maybe?), mentions of blood, fighting, death and such, short-ish?, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Request: "I saw you had requests open for Gi Hun and I had to jump in because the finale left me in a state 😩😩😩 Could I request some fix-it hcs of Gi-Hun returning home to reader after S3 with the baby?"

Author's note: Hi! I'm so sorry that this took so long but here it finally is! I truly hope that you enjoy!!

You were a member of Gi-hun's team for quite some time.

You were with him practically from the beginning back when he was hunting down the salesman.

Working with boss Kim made this possible.

You were one of his workers and once you heard that a man that boss Kim was after paid all of his debts willingly and once boss Kim started to work with him, you were automatically pulled along.

You spend most of your time at the pink moter or with Gi-hun at his car, monitoring the situation.

Mainly because you were the only woman on the team, plus you were like a daughter to boss Kim so he refused to put you in much more danger that it was necessary.

So after a lot of arguing you were left with no choice.

But after a while, something happened.

Something that neither Gi-hun nor you were expecting let alone were prepared for.

Neither of you were sure exactly when it happened.

Maybe it was somewhere between being introduced to each other and spending every moment together even when it wasn't needed.

Maybe somewhere along countless of empty cigarette packs on the back of Gi-hun's car and monitoring the train stations.

Maybe it even started the moment you met but couldn't be acknowledged because neither of you were ready just yet.

It was almost always unspoken.

Both of you were too busy with hunting down the man with ddakji to think about anything else let alone romance.

However both of you were hoping that once the games are finally brought down, you two could finally make the unspoken spoken.

You were always there for each other since the very beginning.

The moment you found yourself amidst the Russian Rullette between the salesman and Gi-hun just proved that.

Even though the salesman wanted you to participate, Gi-hun did everything in his power to save you from it.

"What is it? Are you two in love?"

Gi-hun's expression at salesman's taunting only proved that to him which he acknowledged with a wicked grin.

"How about this, if you loose, I'm taking her as my reward."

He didn't loose.

He knew he couldn't.

You two were almost arrested, too, once the detective walked in and saw a dead man on the couch.

However, you teamed up with him.

The news about boss Kim was a hard pill to swallow.

But you had to.

You had to because you had to help Gi-hun find the man behind the games.

You were outside of the club when you heard Gi-hun asking to be put back in the games.

You felt like screaming.

The worst thing was that you felt helpless.

You could do anything about it.

You could only listen and let it happen.

You couldn't stop it.

So when the detective went to the sea to find the island, he asked you to stay behind.

Someone had to stay at the motel and monitor the situation in the city.

With harsh circumstances, once again you had no choice.

The waiting was the worst part.

You felt like you were falling apart.

Like you were slowly destroying yourself.

You smoke more.

Some days you drank more than it was necessary.

You were overworking yourself.

Overwhelmed.

Always on your guard.

It got to the point where you would always carry a gun with you, even when you were doing something so simple like going to the store.

"I just hope they find you in time."

"I just hope you're still breathing."

"God, I just hope he's still alive"

Hope was all you had left at that moment.

However, after a week you were beginning to loose it.

The games are over.

Still no trace of Gi-Hun.

You were starting to loose the last thing you had.

But what you didn't expect was for someone to be at the motel at the moment you came back from the store down the street.

You were on high alert.

As you always were.

Bag left forgotten by the door in the hallway, a gun squeezed firmly in your hand so much so that your knuckles turned pure white.

You were slowly walking up the stairs until you reached your bedroom.

Well, Gi-hun's bedroom that you slept in ever since he returned to that cursed island.

The door was wide open.

And there he was.

Dark circles under his eyes, a cut on his cheek, bloody shirt.

But he was breathing.

He was alive.

And he was staring right back at you with a small, barely there smile on his face.

Dropping the gun on the floor and running into his arms, passionately kissing him was as easy as breathing.

"You-you're h-home!"

"You're alright."

What shocked you more was a sight of a small baby girl wrapped in two jackets looking at you curiously with her gorgeous big eyes, chubby cheeks on full display.

222

456

The last one was Gi-hun's number, you knew that because he told you that the first time he was in the games he had that number.

But 222?

He explained everything to you once you calmed down a bit.

He explained who her mother was.

How she died as he tried to save her after she begged him to save her baby.

How her father tried to kill her for the money.

How he saved her.

How they both won.

How they got away after the island was destroyed.

Finally he told you about the promise that he made to her mother.

A promise that from that day on both of you fiercely kept.

You both raised her as her own.

Filling her life with safety, laughter, joy and most importantly, love.

And even though there were days when both Gi-hun and you were in your own heads for too long, her laughter and the love you held for each other and your family always always brought you back.

One day she will know who her biological mother was.

One day she will know how brave she was, how much she sacrificed for her.

One day she will know how much she loved her, how much her grandma and auntie loved her.

One day she will know all of it.

One day she will understand or she won't.

That is entirely up to her.

But one thing is for sure.

Jun-hee will know how much loved she truly is.

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@ivanttier @shadow-tumbler

[meracyn]

heyyy could u write a one shot of kwon x reader where they weren't able to see each other for months (reader travelled to a different country and he had to go to the tournament) but reader finally had the chance to go to the sekai taikai and surprises him? maybe suggestive ;) But fluff is ok too, thank youn!

UNSPOKEN DESIRES || kwon jae-sung

a/n: LMAOOO SNEAKY ANON but yk what ill do it (hes too fine). crazy how i wrote the bf hcs of him yesterday and now i got 3 reqs lmao, not complaining tho. also i want to find good icons to put on my kwon reqs but I CANT CHOOSE,,

warnings; SUGGESTIVE, cursing (only like..once), uhh thats all i think

Kwon stood up along with the rest of the Cobra Kai members, barely paying attention to the announcements being said at the moment— too deep in thought— thoughts of you.

The past few months were hard. Not just for him, for you too. You had to travel to another country for a while due to a family emergency regarding a very ill relative. Although you both facetimed and texted everyday, the distance was still there. It wasn’t the same.

The Sekai Taikai was able to get Kwon to focus on the tournament, but even so it wasn’t enough. His mind kept drifting off to you. He never thought your absence would affect him that much, but ever since you told him you had to stay there longer, he felt the ache in his chest deepen with each passing day. He probably wouldn’t say it out loud, but he missed you. A lot.

As everyone was allowed to leave, Kwon let out a sigh, head tilted a bit low as he walked with the rest of his dojo. What was up with him? He won every match he had, why did it not fuel him up with satisfaction anymore? Even messing around with other dojos wasn’t becoming as fun. It frustrated him.

“Hey, wanna go with us to a bar nearby later?” Yoon went up to him, slightly nudging his shoulder with his elbow.

Kwon snapped out of his thoughts, and stopped walking. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea, he could forget about the emptiness in his heart. “..Sure, why not. I could use some distraction.” He replied. Without saying anything else, he walked away.

· · ·

You let out a sigh of relief after managing to get inside the building where the tournament was being held. You may or may not have lied your way in by saying you were one of Cobra Kai’s backups and Sensei Kim requested you come here as an emergency.

Those at the desk were a bit skeptical, but thankfully didn’t question any further and let you pass.

You walked past the big hallways, trying to think where the rooms were, thinking he was probably resting. You couldn’t wait to see him again— his eyes, his hair, that stupid yet charming smirk he had on his face.

Suddenly, you passed by a teenage guy scrolling through his phone. Maybe he knew Kwon, it was worth asking.

“Uh..excuse me,” You started, a bit nervous as you walked up to him. “Do you know the room number Kwon Jae-Sung is staying in?”

Demetri looked up, an eyebrow raised at the..random question. Out of all the questions you could have asked, this one didn’t cross his mind. He glanced around the room, noticing how it was only you and him. “I don’t think..I can give out that information.” He replied.

“Oh, no. It’s not like that—” You said quickly. “I’m his partner. I wanted to see if he’s okay.”

“Partner?” Demetri repeated. “As in, sparring partner? Then you should kn—”

“No!” You exclaimed, interrupting him. You cleared your throat before continuing, “I meant..I’m his partner..romantically.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” Demetri said, before nodding slightly. He leaned in to whisper the room number, then sat back down. “I’m sure he’s doing very fine.. but that’s the number.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Relief washed over you, as you quickly left, going to the elevators.

Demetri watched as you left, before his eyes widened. “Wait. What if they’re not his partner?”

· · ·

Kwon got out of the elevator, laughing along with his team members who were all drunk and held onto each other for support.

Being at the bar did help him be distracted for a while, drinking along while the rest were doing bets on who could drink the most without getting drunk at all.

“Hey, why don’t we go out again for some more fun? It isn’t too late,” One of them suggested.

“Not a bad idea. Let’s go,— Kwon, you comin’?”

“Nah, I’m good. You guys go ahead.” He said. The others left, leaving him alone.

He opened the door to his room, shutting it behind him and turned on the lock. Walking over to his bed, he began to take off his shirt and draped a towel around his waist. Just as he was going to enter the shower, a finger tapped on his shoulder.

As he turned around, he was taken by surprise.

You were standing there, with a mischievous smile.

How did you get in his room? Was he dreaming? Was he too tired after training? Did he drink too much? Did he—

“I got you~!” You said with a chuckle.

He couldn’t feel his heartbeat— he couldn’t believe it. You were here, in front of him. After months of longing, of only talking through a screen, you were standing right there, your bodies’ mere inches away from the other. Without thinking, he closed the distance between you two, pulling you into his arms.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he mumbled into your hair, his fingers tracing the curve of your back, feeling the warmth of your body against his.

You laughed softly, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze, “I thought I’d surprise you.”

“Yeah..and you did,” He replied. “but now that you’re here..” His eyes trailed over your body up and down, voice low. The tension built between you both was obvious, the look in his eyes said it.

His lips twitched into a smirk, pulling you close to him again, “Tell me my love, did you miss me a lot?” He asked, in a teasing yet flirtatious tone.

“Maybe, who knows?” you mumbled, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Want to find out?”

Kwon didn’t reply, his lips crashing on yours as his hands instinctively held onto your waist. The kiss deepened, hinting at the need that every inch of his body begged for. It was obvious to you—he wanted more.

Your fingers went up his chest, your other hand pulling him even closer to you–if that was possible.

He pulled away for a second, as your eyes met. His dark eyes were full of lust, but also shone with a hint of mischief. Before you knew it, Kwon leaned in again, kissing your jaw and trailing down to your collarbone. Removing a hand that was on your hip, he held onto your leg, lifting it up as you curled it around his waist.

Kwon kept kissing your body, the sounds that left your lips only fueling his desire. He had your back pressed against the wall, and began to take off your shirt.

“Fuck..” He silently cursed to himself as he looked up to see your expression— cheeks red as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Looking like a mess, how cute. And just for me, right?”

You nodded frantically, wanting him to stop teasing and continue.

Knowing you were desperate, Kwon chuckled. “Don’t worry love, after so many months apart, I’m not done with you just yet.”

HELP I FEEL SO EMBARRASSED I FEEL LIKE I DID SO BAD ON THIS 💀 well it was definitely interesting to do lol..time to work on those other requests now

[dgaftilwedie]

HIIII,,, idk if i can ask u, but could u do some hc’s of namgyu dealing with a reader who is insecure(? ;3

(im sorry if i wrote somethin’ bad, english isn’t my first, lenguage, BUT U CAN DO IT WHENEVER U WANT, I DONT REALLY HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT, BUT I REALLY LOVE HOW U WRITE<3)

UHM HELLO YES I WOULD LOVE TO!!!!!! i get so excited when i get requests istg i was giggling over this for a solid 5 minutes... this hits so close to home too UGH!!!!!! i may or may not have gotten carried away and a wrote a whole fic instead... whoopsies!!!! i hope u enjoy!!!!! (also your english sounded perfectly fine to me!!!!!)

contains: insecure reader ofc, soft supportive boyfriend namgyu who LOVES YOU DEARLY AND WOULD DO ANYTHING TO SEE YOU HAPPY, just a whole bunch of fluffy shenanigans

namgyu's a very attentive partner. he seems like he's in his own little world pretty often, zoning out with distant eyes, but a lot of the time, he's observing your little quirks. the way your eyebrows twitch when you're concentrated or the way you bite the inside of your cheek when you're anxious - whatever it is, he notices. so of course, he was quick to notice the look of discomfort on your face as you stared into the bathroom mirror.

"somethin' wrong?" he asked, leaning his back against the door frame. the two of you had just gotten back to his place after a cute little date. he was always quick to change into his pajamas - a black pull-over hoodie for an artist you didn't know and a pair of plaid boxers. there was a weird feeling of envy in your stomach. he looked so fucking good all the time. no matter the circumstances, namgyu looked amazing. even now, wearing nothing but his pajamas. it wasn't fair. you let out a sigh.

"uh, yeah. 'm fine," you mumbled, running your hands through your hair. you were nitpicking everything about your appearance. not a single thing went ignored. namgyu could tell something was wrong. you could tell he was staring at you.

"come on, baby. what's the matter?" he walked into the bathroom and stood behind you, head poking out above yours. his arms lazily wrapped around you. "you can tell me, i won't bite. pinky promise."

you knew he wasn't going to let up. that's just how namgyu was. he could read you like a book... most of the time, you didn't mind it, but now?

"do you think i look ok?" you finally crack. he always gets you to crack.

"is that what this is about?"

"...maybe..."

namgyu pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, pulling you against his chest. the way he stared at your reflection was so much different from the look in your eyes. he looked at you like you were the most angelic being to cross his path. he looked at you like you were a sunset, a field of flowers, like you were all the stars in the sky bundled into one beautiful creature. he touched you like you were fine china, soft fingers and gentle kisses as if he could break you.

"you're lookin' too hard," he mumbled, squeezing you a little tighter. "mirrors lie or somethin'. you can't see what i can see, but i promise, i think you're perfect."

namgyu struggled with words - you knew that - but the way he was talking about you felt natural for him. you were so used to your own view of yourself. you constantly beat yourself up over the smallest things. namgyu didn't see that side of you. he didn't see what you saw; he saw something better.

"have you ever seen the way your eyes light up when you get excited over something? or the way you smile when i surprise you? or the way you look at me when you wake up?"

you could smell him all around you. his cheek was pressed against yours, sleepy voice vibrating throughout your body. you towards his face in the mirror, biting your bottom lip.

"i'm pretty sure humans weren't even supposed to be able to see their own faces, but look at that. you have the blessing of seeing yours. and i think you're pretty fucking gorgeous."

sometimes, you wanted to punch namgyu. not because he did anything wrong but because he was so good to you, it made you want to explode or something. he wasn't perfect but he tried so hard. his eyes hadn't left you, still analyzing you like you were a statue in a museum. there was a sinking feeling in your chest but it wasn't because you felt horrible about yourself anymore. you were sure you were about to cry.

"namgyu," you started, but you stopped yourself. you didn't really have anything to say. instead, you whipped yourself around, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing him like he was going to disappear.

"you're ok, baby." namgyu rested his head on yours, slowly rocking you back and forth. his hands were warm; one rested on your lower back and the other in between your shoulder blades, gently rubbing a circle to try and soothe you. "i've got you."

you could always count on namgyu to make you feel at least a little better. even if it didn't solve all of your problems or cure your self-image issues, it didn't matter, because namgyu would compliment you endlessly just to see you smile. he wasn't perfect - not by any means - but he was good to you. he tried.