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trivia-yandere · 6 days ago

Text

survival

you apply to a dating-show in hopes of winning enough money so you and your sister can live comfortably. what you didn’t know that you would be competing to death for the heart of one man while those on the dark web watched.

word count: 12.569

warning: several character death, blood, dark web, yandere tendencies, kissing, voyeurism, manipulative tactics, cult-like behaviors, orgy (ft. jimin+taehyung+jungkook), oral sex (f), unprotected sex, fingering, public sex, nipple sucking, dirty talk, overstimulation, creampie, exhibitionism,

@sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @momnomnom @bangtans-momma @chimmy-licious @investedreader @chimmisbae @

valentine's day masterlist

“Let’s get something straight, ladies.”

Your eyes turn towards who is speaking. The woman is tall, her skin almond and seemingly shining beneath the golden lights of the mansion. Her hair is neatly slicked into a bun, not an out of place hair in sight. Her eyes are dark as they roam around the room at each one of the contestants. She raises a manicured hand, crimson nails going around to point at each of you - six women in total.

“This is a competition.” the woman says, lowering her hand. “You all are not friends.”

You don’t respond, opting to listen instead as the other women chatter amongst themselves. One thing for certain, you didn’t have to be told at all.

“For the past week, you along with hundreds of other women had fought diligently to be where you are standing now. This is your final challenge. Look to your left and your right, as you are now competing against your direct rivals.”

You glance around, the mansion surely was luxurious. It has the highest ceilings you’ve ever seen; not as if you’ve seen many. It’s bright with shining lights, a sparkling chandelier high on the ceiling that caught your attention upon having entered. The floors are marble and appear so clean that you could even see your reflection on it.

“You each have rooms located up the staircase.” the woman waves her hand to the large staircase, its carpets are dark and looks as if it wouldn’t squeak beneath your feet like the stairs you’ve grown accustomed to. “Your names are located on the door. Here, you will change into what you see is fitting for today's challenges.”

The woman begins to stroll up the stairs, her heels not being a problem in the slightest as you six begin to follow her.

The railings are a mahogany color and as you walk further up, you notice the walls are painted with a mural of a landscape. It appears to be a forest going through different stages of seasons, winter being the first and spanning all the way through spring, summer and fall. Your eyes marvel at the sight - how detailed the mural was and how long it must’ve taken to complete.

“I can’t believe we’re in such an amazing house.”

Your attention is caught when one girl speaks. You’re now at the top of the stairs and make your way towards the bedroom, your eyes skinning over the names until you see where yours is. The door is tall and has the same mahogany color as the stair railings. There’s carnings on the wooden door displaying an array of flowers. The handle is cold and shiny and it clicks as you open it.

The room is large - the largest room you’ve even encountered, even larger than your living room in your apartment.

As you enter, the lights turn on automatically, the same high ceilings as the rest of the mansion with a diamond chandelier right in the middle of the room, as well. Below it, a large queen sized bed that’s elevated sits, an array of pillows displayed neatly on it.

The floors are the same marble as before, only this time there’s a white, fluffy rug by the bed.

You release a sigh, kicking off your shoes to then go towards the bed. You plop down onto it and it slightly bounces back. You have never been on a bed that was this comfortable before and it’s as if it embraces you entirely, your eyes already becoming heavy.

There’s a loud ringing nose that catches you by surprise and you spring up from the bed. Your heart is pounding and your head whips around to find where the ringing is coming from - it’s loud, almost as if it’s a speaker, but you cannot find from where.

“Welcome,”

The voice speaks and you’re now positive that it is a speaker - maybe on the walls or ceilings.

Your eyes cannot find anything.

“Anjali, Chan-Mi, Y/N,” your ears perk when the speaker - a man - says your name. “Zarish, Luisa, Siohban.”

You suppose these are the girls you will be competing against. You swallow the lump in your throat as the speaker continues to speak.

“I suppose you all know what you six are getting into being a part of this?”

“A dating show…?” your sister murmurs, her eyes cautiously watching you. “...out of everything? A dating show?”

“I’m not expecting anyone to understand.” you suppress a laugh. You tap your fingers against your thigh as you sit besides her on the small couch in your living area.

“You’re trying to find love in this economy?”

“Realistically? No.” you shrug your shoulders. You and she were watching something she had put on Youtube when you had decided to tell her your plans. “But I read the terms and condition and the contract so-”

“You’re serious? About going on a dating show?”

Your sister doesn’t look amused in the slightest and honestly, you didn’t blame her. You and she would laugh at how ridiculous the girls looked pinning after one man and often fighting for his heart just for him to not choose any of them - and now you were going to be doing the same.

“For love? No. I don’t even expect to be chosen.” you admit, turning towards her to give her a soft smile. “But, we do get paid for being on there. Exposure, too. It’s a start and whatever money we need I will surely take.”

Your sister sighs, nodding slightly. “How long will you be gone?”

“A week max. It’s live, apparently.”

You were older than your sister by nearly five years, having taken her in a year after you left home yourself. While your sister remained in High School, you had to be the one to work for everything you and she both needed - two jobs weren’t ideal for you, but you made it work.

As time went on, bills increased, as did rent and the overall cost of living. Your sister needed necessities and as did you and your two job income wasn’t enough.

“How did you find out about this?”

“Job interview.” you snort, as if two jobs weren’t enough, you were thinking about picking up a third - just for a few hours you had free on your off days. “Said I…would fit the part. Whatever that means.”

“Would I be able to watch it live? What type of dating show is only a week?” your sister is asking all of the correct questions that you should - but you are only there for the money; you are sure everyone else is, as well.

“I’m not even sure where it would be streaming. I’ll have to ask. I’m sure it’s very…variety show like? Maybe even a game show?” you shrug your shoulders, pondering if there would be an elimination every day of the week; how anyone would find love that way is beyond you. “Us competing for a man possibly none of us are attracted to.” you joke. “Having us do odd challenges to win his heart.”

“I bet he’s ugly and old.” you sister cringes. “What if you have to kiss him?”

You cackle, head leaning back to laugh. “For a few thousands, it’s what I have to do. Life isn’t cheap.” In the back of your head, you understand that this isn’t ideal - that your sister was right and this could be an older guy who’s not the most attractive looking man; as no one knows what he looks like. But if this is what you had to do then so be it.

You were taking a week off of work for this - luckily, paid time off has come through for both jobs. “Even if I’m not the winner, honestly, let’s hope for that. I’ll be back.” you promise her.

Your sister nods her head slightly, tilting her head to the side to look at you.

You understood what you were getting into and doing this for - and you are positive your motive is similar to the other five women. None of which know who the man is, his beliefs, likes or dislikes - anything. You were all completely in it for the money; the promise of a lavish lifestyle.

In the beginning, you told yourself that you didn’t need to win, you think, you just had to be here long enough to get any form of prize.

However, now, you’re certain that this was now or never. You came this far and even managed to be picked by the man himself along with the other five women; all rivals of yours.

“That being said, the competition starts immediately. I’m looking for a wife and I don’t have much time to find her.”

You want to scoff at how desperate the man sounds. You try to put a face to the voice, but are unable to. He sounds young, no older than 30, but with the way technology is now, you can never be certain.

“The game starts now, you all.” the voice says. “If I cannot find a wife in you five, then that means I’ll have to do this all over again - and I’ll rather not.”

There’s a shiver that runs down your spine at his words and you’re unsure as to why. You take a deep breath.

“I need a wife that knows how to cook exactly what I want.” Your feet begin to move with impatience. “This mansion holds several kitchens. In about an hour, I expect you all to be downstairs and in your designated kitchen doing just that. I’m not a picky man,” there’s heartfelt laughter from him. “and I cannot wait to try what you all cook for me.”

The room is quiet again, indicating that the man was done speaking.

You swallow. You had an hour to get ready and to you, that was more than enough. You worked with as little as five minutes before, an hour was nothing to you.

You start by going to the closet - a large walk in one - that holds clothing that you were told would be in there. You would be cooking, so there isn’t a point to overdress, however, you understood that you can’t look as if you’re at home. Your usual oversized t-shirt and sweats wouldn’t be acceptable.

You also weren’t going to force yourself into a tight dress to appeal to the eye of the man you’re supposed to be cooking for. It didn't make sense.

The next 30 minutes consisted of you showering and getting ready yourself. You weren’t positive if this was when the man would make his appearance to you all, and you had to be prepared in case he had.

You stood out amongst the other five women who were all dressed to impress and you would only be a hater to say that they didn’t look nice. Even better than you.

You swallow, casting your eyes ahead of you to look at the women from early; the host.

“An hour to prepare a meal.” the woman states, her hands behind her back as she strolls towards you six. “In your designated kitchen, there would be food already laid out for you. What you do with it is all up to you. Follow me.”

The woman begins to stroll out of the large foyer and down into a hallway where each of you follow her. The mansion is huge indeed, having separate kitchens for each girl to go into. Yours was the third, and immediately you found yourself going to work.

The kitchen is huge - of course - and has a chandelier right above you hanging from a tall ceiling. The floors are hardwood and pristine and don't creek beneath your feet. On the kitchen island located in the middle of the large kitchen, lay an apron that you proceed to tie around your body.

You cooked for you and your sister whenever you had the chance to. It was enjoyable at times as you loved cooking for her. Cooking now, however, was a necessity to win. You needed to be the best, and if not, you needed to be damn close to it.

An hour flew past as though it was only five minutes. Your hair, once laid perfectly into a tidy bun, was sweated out a bit. You huffed at your reflection into the knife you were holding upon seeing yourself.

“Time’s up. Bring your plates of food back to the foyer.” says a voice over the speakers, this time not the man, but the host.

You drop your knife into the sink and turn towards the island where your plate of food sat. You were given steak and did what you thought you could with it, stewing it along with vegetables. You cooked a simple white rice atop of lettuce - you’ve done what you thought you could with what little you had.

“Ladies.” the host says, nodding to you all. “Place your plates right here onto the table.” she says, motioning to the large, glass table behind her. There’s cards that sit about six inches from one another that have each of your names labeled onto them.

“Now, Kim Seokjin-ssi will test them all.” she proceeds to say as each of you gather back into a line.

Kim Seokjin.

Your eyes begin to widen as a man, tall and slender, begins to strut from up the staircase to where you all stood. Your eyes are fixed onto him - as are the other women. Your mouth parts a bit as he bows before all of you, a mop of dark hair bouncing.

“Hello to you all.” the man says, a familiar voice dancing through your ears. The same exact voice of earlier.

Kim Seokjin was not an older man, no. He was young; and maybe you should’ve guessed by his voice. However, he didn’t look a day over 25. His skin was clear of any blemishes and porcelain similar to a doll. His eyes are beady as he looks between the six of you. His lips, plump and pink, form a low smile.

Jin is sporting a solid, black dress shirt that he proceeds to cuff toward his elbows. His dress pants are baggy and brown, however not a wrinkle in sight. You ponder just how much his outfit is, as you were told that wealth such as him doesn’t talk, but whispers.

“Now, let’s see.” Jin says, clapping his hands as he turns away.

Jin eyes the array of food on the table, humming to himself softly.

It takes 10 minutes for Jin to try it all. Ten long minutes of you all waiting in silence as he eats, nodding his head a few times and then whispering to the host, who would either snicker or respond.

“Siobhan.” Jin speaks, his back not turning to face either of you. The host does, stepping away from Jin. “Come closer, please.”

Siobhan does, her long locks bouncing onto her shoulders as she comes face to face with Jin. He’s a beauty of a man and instantly, your heart jolts. Jealousy, sure, yet you weren’t here for true love. This wasn’t the bachelor. You were here for money and that only.

“Chan-Mi…Luisa…you two, as well.”

Your blood runs cold, your palms beginning to sweat. You’re unsure what Jin is doing - if you’re about to be eliminated or not. Your eyes glance at the other two women left, Zarish and Anjali. You suck in a breath, turning your eyes back to Jin. It would be humiliating to be sent home so early.

“Your food is…”

You swallow as the man slowly turns, his arms now behind his back. The smile on his lips he sported 10 minutes prior had disappeared.

“Lackluster.” Jin murmurs, and instantly his right arm jerks, a dagger held tight into the palm of his hand. He slices Siohban’s throat as quickly as yall all seen it, the woman gasping and clenching onto her neck.

There’s shrieks that erupt around the room as Siohban falls to her knees in a pool of her own blood. Your eyes widen, a hand going to clasp onto your own mouth and the sudden sight before you.

Without much warning, the knife is japped right into Chan-Mi’s stomach, her scream haunting you. You’re frightened where you stand, your eyes wide.

Luisa is next, but she knows what to expect. She turns to run away, but trips with how terrified she is. She falls onto the ground before she has the chance to go anywhere and Jin lets a hand grab her long, wavy hair. He yanks it back, the dagger slicing right against her throat. Blood squirts out of it, splashing a few feet away from yours. You feel your stomach churn, the sudden need to vomit.

“Do calm down.” Jin says, throwing the knife onto the ground by Siobhan, who’s body appears lifeless. “This is a competition. I know you all aren’t here for love.” Jin scoffs with a roll of his eyes. “You’re here for money. I have a lot of it. However…” Jin looks between the remaining three of you.

You were the calmest, however, maybe you were just hiding it. There’s great fear in your eyes that has you startled into silence, only a single tear falling from your eyes. Zarish had fallen to her knees, pushed the farthest away from you and Anjali, who was trembling at the sight.

“...you’re going to have to show me what you’re willing to do for it.”

“I know you three need some time.”

You had proceeded to vomit into the toilet as soon as you entered your bedroom. You thanked the shared bathroom, as you’re unsure how much longer you could last. The heinous sight of murder flashed before your eyes, no matter how hard you attempted to squeeze them shut.

Your heart pumps with fear. Just an hour ago you stood before three dead bodies - this was real. This wasn’t a dream, nor a prank. The screams of fear coming from you all were real.

Jin had gone on for the next 10 minutes explaining the rules - rules you thought were already given to you. Of course they weren’t. You had gotten yourself into this mess, biting more than you could even chew. There was no “out” of this. Once witnessing bloody murder, Jin had told you three the truth. That there were only two ways out of this twisted game of his. You either had to win and become his wife, or lose and be dead.

There was no leaving alive unless you were the sole winner.

This was a life or death situation now; you were truly fighting for your life.

“But I am in need of a wife as you know. You’ll need to do more than just cook.”

Jin’s voice is taunting you through the speakers. He speaks coolly, as if he hadn’t killed anyone. You ponder just how long he’s done this - and if there is any way out of this at all. Or was this just a sick game where he would eventually kill all of you and repeat the game again.

You proceed to flush the toilet, falling besides it as Jin continues to speak.

“I need a wife that knows how to clean, as well. In an hour, meet in the foyer and await your next challenge.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, body trembling on the cold tile floor. You aren’t sure if you could do this anymore. You’re terrified that you’d be the next to go; it was only three left and it hasn’t even been a day.

Jin’s impatient and he doesn’t wish to wait any longer than he needs. He wants someone now; tonight preferably.

Your eyes snap open, staring straight ahead.

You couldn't afford to die. You weren’t here for just yourself. You had a sister you needed to take care of.

You took a shower in case it happens to be your last, at least you would know a bit or peace. You are the first to be in the foyer, followed by Zarish. She doesn’t look at you when she arrives, and you cannot blame her. Neither of you wish to be here. The atmosphere has changed from one of lighthearted competition to dreadful act of survival.

Anjali is the last to arrive and the girl's brown eyes are red and puffy from her crying. She’s trembling when she arrives and even though you sympathize with her, you cannot bring yourself to care far too much into it. You had to care about the life of your sister and that was the will you needed to survive this.

“Ladies,” the host claps as she struts into the foyer. “follow me.”

The host makes no attempts in waiting for you all, nor does she stop to acknowledge you three. She takes you down a long hallway until you three stopped behind three separate doors. She proceeds to turn back towards you. Her eyes trail between your faces before she stops at Anjali and scoffs.

“You won’t survive if you keep trembling like that.” she says snarkily. “Behind these doors is your next challenge. As you know…” she stops dramatically to look between you once more. “...Kim Seokjin isn’t just any man. His line of work is different from normal men. That being said.”

The doors are automatic and they open before the host could finish her sentence.

The sight behind the doors is traumatic. You instantly gag, clenching a hand to your mouth.

Behind your door lies the dead body of Chan-Mi. The room is covered in blood. It’s a single room, all white. White walls and tiled floors that’s stained crimson.

“Jin would like you three to clean the room and get rid of the body.”

Anjali instantly shrieks, her back hitting the wall behind you all. She shakes her head, her hands tugging her hair.

“Please, I-I-”

“You have an hour.” the host interrupts. “Do whatever you think you need to do.”

Inside the room, there’s a timer high onto the wall and close to the ceiling. It ticks down exactly one hour - a short time to clean a murder scene.

Your mind tries to think back to the true crime shoes you’d watch with your sister on how you could possibly get rid of a body; you never thought you would be in this situation.

You spring into action, making your way down the hall.

“W-Where are you going?” Anjali calls for you, not moving from the wall.

You don’t answer. You were told to do anything necessary to clean this mess up. For the first time you notice it - the cameras. It’s high and it follows you as you walk. You ponder just how many people are watching you here being forced to commit these criminal acts, now fully engrossed in it.

You open doors until you find one with cleaning supplies. You take a deep breath, grabbing whatever your arms could hold.

You work on autopilot, your mind completely blank as you work. You wrapped Chan-Mi’s body in one too many trash bags, refusing to look into her face. Her eyes were open but lifeless like the rest of her.

Dragging a body was harder than the movies made it, placing it right outside of the room and making your way back inside to clean it. You scrub onto your hands and knees, mind remaining blank as you focus on removing the crimson from your sight. 45 minutes, 30 minutes, 20 minutes.

Your heart is pumping outside your chest and your breath heaves as you drag the body down the hallway to the front door. You hadn't had any time to explore the mansion and today wasn’t going to be the day. You had 15 minutes until the challenge was done and you were told to get rid of the body by any means necessary.

The mansion is quiet and you’re positive Jin, the host and who knows how many other people are watching you now. You open the main doors of the mansion, poking your head out. It’s evening now, the sky has different shades of purple hues.

You drag Chan-Mi outside, down the stone stairs and towards the side of the house. You’re unsure how long you walked with the body until your legs gave out and you collapsed.

You breathe heavily, your mind regaining and you scream out. It echoes off of the trees, the eerily silence of the mansion adding more terror to your situation.

Focus - you tell yourself.

Remember what you’re doing this for.

Your knees tremble as you stand, fixing your hair. A few strands had fallen from your bun as you were cleaning vigorously. Your eyes scan the area, pondering where you were going to put this body.

Your eyes drag towards a pond and even if your moral compass was eating at you, you understand that this was life or death - for you and your sister.

“A better life…” you murmur to yourself, reaching the pond. “...for me. For us.”

You threw Chan-Mi’s body into the pond. It splashes loudly and all you can think is you hope you’re far enough for anyone to notice far too quickly. It isn’t a lake with running water, so the body would move anywhere. However, the the pond is surrounded by rocks and if far enough, the untrained eye would never notice-

“Are you okay?”

Your body stiffens at the words coming from behind you.

Slowly, you turn, eyes catching onto a man a few feet away. He’s strolling towards you. He’s tall and his cheeks are dimpled.

“I-I…” you’re unable to speak. You immediately get up from your knees and begin to walk towards the man. “...I was just going for a walk.” you speak, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I ended up falling and…made a mess of myself.”

The man reaches you and looks at your appearance. He nods his head with a chuckle. “I can see that. I have never seen you around here.”

“You live around here?” you ask. Where did this man come from and just how did he know you were here? Your palms were already sweaty and you didn’t have time to stay and chat. You had about five minutes until you had to be back at the mansion.

“I do. I hike in the woods all the time.” the man nods his head. “I’m Namjoon.” he raises a hand for you to grab.

You do hesitantly, nodding your head. “Y/N.” you murmur. “I have to get back. It’s nice to meet you, Namjoon.” you say. “Enjoy your hike. I hope you aren’t as clumsy as me.” you attempt to joke, making your way around the man before he can say anything else.

You enter the home quickly, slamming the door behind you. Jin is behind it, almost as if he’s waiting for you.

You stop in your tracks, unable to form words.

“You’re right on time.” Jin says. “The first to arrive.”

You’re exhausted, falling to your knees. You hang your head in defeat.

“I’ve watched you, Y/N.”

Your ears perk at Jin’s words. You hear footsteps coming closer to you.

“We all have.”

“What…how many people?”

“Thousands.” Jin chuckles. “Don’t worry. It’s only the dark web.”

Your blood runs cold once more. You don’t want to ask anymore questions, far too afraid to know anymore.

“You’re becoming a favorite, Y/N.” Jin kneels down to face you. He pats your head as if you’re a puppy, encouraging you to look at him. “The way you got rid of the body and managed to get away from Joon.”

“Joon…” you murmur, the dimpled-cheeked man flashing through your mind. “...you know Namjoon….?”

Of course Jin did. There wasn’t any home for miles. How else would you be caught in such a situation ? Maybe that was a part of their plan, to try and get you to confess what was truly going on in hopes that you would look for a way out.

You clench your eyes shut and release a shaky sob.

“You won this round, Y/N. Come,” Jin offers out his hand for you to take. “Let's get you ready for the final round. I hope you didn’t like Anjali as much.” Jin begins to laugh heartily. “You won’t be seeing her for the final challenge.”

You weren’t told by Jin how long you had until the final round. You were in the shower once more, this time sitting on the shower floor and allowing the water to run down your body. Your eyes are closed, and as much as you tried, you cannot get your mind to go blank.

It was a lot for one person to handle in just one single day.

You wished you understood more about Jin and the dark web. You’ve heard about the dark web before and the last thing you ever desired was to be a part of it. It brought chills up your spine to just think about how many eyes are on you and what those eyes are involved in themselves.

You finally got out of the shower once the water began to run cold. You wrap a towel around you, your wet feet strolling towards the large, round mirror inside of the bathroom. Your eyes watch yourself, however not truly seeing yourself. It’s as though you’re witnessing a shell of yourself.

You take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. You want to laugh bitterly at the unfortunate circumstances that you are dealt with - and just how much of a terrible person you were becoming because of them. Was this real life or a nefarious dream you fell into due to slumber?

There’s a knock that sounds at your bathroom door that causes you to flinch, startled.

You take a few moments to answer, instead choosing to listen quietly, unsure who would be behind the door at such a vulnerable moment you were in now.

“It’s me.”

Jin.

You feel goosebumps liter your arms at his voice. Still, your mind cannot embrace the fact that Kim Seokjin, someone so beautiful as him, is a part of this. Involved with not just this twisted game of survival, but the dark web, as well; which is an iceberg itself.

Your hand wraps around the cold doorknob and you slowly twist it open, cracking it open so you can peek out at the man. He offers a curt grin, his head slightly tilting.

“It’s dawning on you, isn’t it?” Jin questions vaguely. “That this is real life and not some sort of nightmare?”

Your heart jolts and you swallow your words. It’s as if he took the thoughts right out of your mind.

“It’s far too late in wanting to drop out of the competition.” Jin murmurs. “I’m sure you know why.”

You wouldn’t be able to leave here alive - you’re well aware.

Slowly, you nod your head, slightly opening the door a little wider.

“I came to see how you were doing.” Jin takes a few steps back and it’s then you realize that he changed from his attire earlier, to a black suit. “This…can weigh heavy on people such as you.”

“What do you mean people such as me?” you question low. You proceed to open the door fully, your towel tightly around your frame.

Jin begins to stroll away from you and proceeds to take a seat onto your bed. A shame you haven’t truly had the time to lay in it, but he doesn’t wish to extend the games. For months, he had women come in and out - all failing. He wants this game to end tonight, and there’s only two opponents left. He surely hopes either you or Zarish would be the one to end his suffering in having to do this - and he can go home with a wife.

“It’s obvious you aren’t…part of this lifestyle.” Jin looks up at you now, brown eyes giving your undivided attention. “You and Zarish aren’t doing this for love, either.”

“Are you?” you’re bold enough to ask, your right hand holding the top of your towel tightly. “You do this…often?”

Jin snickers. “Unfortunately,” he nods. “no one has won as of yet. This is why it appears the challenges are a bit fast paced.”

You sit in the doorway of the bathroom awkwardly as you await for him to continue speaking.

“Why are you doing this?” Jin questions. “What made you want to come here?”

“I didn’t think I would have to hide a body.” you say truthfully, a bit of sadness in your voice. “I didn’t think I would be fighting for survival, either.”

“I do apologize.” Jin says, yet you don’t hear any sincerity in his words. “It wasn’t my idea of presenting the game as a bachelor type.”

You nod your head. Of course there were others involved, deeper than just Jin and Namjoon.

“What are you fighting for, Y/N?” Jin proceeds to dig deeper. “What do you have to live for?”

Jin’s eyes are intense as he awaits an answer from you. It causes you to look away, goosebumps growing even harder onto your skin. You nearly forgot that you were naked beneath this towel and semi-wet.

“I have a sister.” you say truthfully. There isn’t a point of lying now. This could also be a test to see if you were going to be truthful or not. If Jin had ties to the dark web, who knows what else he’s apart. “And I needed money…”

“I see.” Jin hums. “Everyone has their reasonings.”

“Can I ask yours?”

Jin is intrigued. Zarish wasn’t much of a speaker, yet he couldn’t blame her. Her demeanor is colder than it once was when she arrived, yet he couldn’t bring himself to care. There were two contestants and a final round.

“You…there has to be a reason why you’re doing all of this, right?” you lean against the door frame. “You can’t have a hard time finding a wife.”

Jin’s lips twitch upward.

“Observant.” Jin nods. “I can get a wife anywhere. But…” Jin spreads his legs a bit. “Where’s the fun in that?”

There’s a sinister way in which Seokjin laughs.

“Sure, you didn’t come here for love. That doesn’t mean that you and I couldn’t grow to love one another, right?”

The question strikes you as odd, seeing as this was still a competition.

“If you win, of course.” Jin adds, as if reading your thoughts yet again. “You’re already a fan favorite, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

You exhale.

“Do you want it?”

Your attention is brought back to Jin.

“Do you want a better life?” Jin continues. “Do you want it enough to fight for it? There's only one more round left, Y/N.” Jin prods on, his eyes roaming your face for any emotion. “Show me you want to survive, Y/N.”

You find yourself in front of Jin now, who awaits for you to do something. Anything.

You wanted nothing more than to survive this - not for just your sake, but for your sister. Her life depended on yours, and maybe that was all the will you needed to survive this.

“I do want this.” you murmur, unsure of what you’re now doing kneeling before him as he sits onto your bed. Your right cheek sit lightly against his knee.

“I know.” Jin answers. “I can see it in your eyes. It’s easier to do the things you do if you tell yourself it’s for someone else.”

Maybe being an accomplice to a murder was easier if you told yourself you were doing this for your sister.

You hum.

“Get dressed.” Jin says, a soft hand laying on your left cheek. “The final round will be starting soon. Make yourself presentable.”

You remove your cheek from his knee just as Jin stands to his feet. He looks down upon your vulnerable figure but doesn’t say another word as he saunters out of the room. You watch his figure leave sullenly, a coldness running through you as you felt alone, but knew that you weren’t truly.

“This is crazy, don’t you think?” you murmur to Zarish. “That only one of us can survive this?”

Zarish offers a glance, the soft music playing in the background of the large ballroom. All surrounded by people who are associated with Kim Seokjin himself.

“We…can both survive this.” you say to her, taking a sip of your glass of champagne. You offer a few smiles to guests. “We can both escape before anyone notices us.”

After Jin had left your room, you continued to sit onto the ground by the large bed for what felt like hours until you finally got to your feet to get ready for the next challenge. You weren’t sure what presentable was, but you only had what was in the large closet to choose from. All dresses ranging from long to short.

You grabbed a short dress, stopping at your knees. You opted for this incase you were getting into something that involved you moving a body again - or running for your life. You only had heels to choose from, but you chose a pair that would be easy to get out of if needed be.

You decided to fix your hair to the same bun as before, this time neater and allow a few strands of hair to be released, twirling your finger around it a few times to allow it to curl.

There’s another knock that sounds, this time on your bedroom door. You stand a bit straighter before strolling to the door and opening it.

“It’s time.” the host says, dressed differently. A wine colored floor dress that hugs her curves. On the right side is a slit that rides all the way up to her mid thigh. “You have five minutes to meet everyone downstairs in the main hall.”

“E-Everyone?” you speak up, eyebrows knitting.

“Yes.” the host nods. “The final round is to impress not only Kim Seokjin, but those who associates with. You’re attempting to be a wife, correct?”

You nod, a bit dumbfounded.

“Okay then. Here is your moment.” the host turns to walk away. “Don’t let these people see you be frightened. They’ll eat you up and spit you out if so.”

The host’s footsteps get quieter as she descends down the carpeted hallway. You take a deep breath as you replay her advice - or warning - in your head. You take another deep breath before following her down the hallway.

You can hear faint music along with chattering voices. You suppose this was the final challenge, and maybe the most nerve wracking one of it all. You barely knew Seokjin, so being surrounded by people such as him was just as terrifying.

You decide to follow the music down to the far right of the foyer and down a dim-lit hallway until you reach the large ballroom. It’s surrounded with people - all wearing masquerade-like masks. You felt anxious being surrounded by them, unsure how to truly handle it all.

The ballroom is designed just as elegant and expensive as the rest of the mansion. Its lights are lit dim just as the hallway, but the candles add a bit more flickering light to it all; a sinister type of feeling, however. There’s round tables with white tables clothed all throughout the ballroom, with four chairs each. Only a few people were seated as they chatted amongst each other, while the rest were standing.

There’s flowers, all white, on each table. As well as hanging from the ceiling besides large chandeliers that aren’t shining to their full potential.

“Y/N.”

Your head turns to the sound of your name. A masked figure stands tall besides you, his face fully covered by the gold mask. The candles surrounding the room dance off of his mask.

“I-I…”

The man raises a hand to his mask and lifts it, and instantly you recognize the man just by half of his face, dimples poking out. It’s Namjoon, and he speaks when he takes the mask off fully.

“It’s nice to see you again.”

“You, as well.” you say shyly, glancing around the room. “You…are a part of this?”

Namjoon chuckles with a quick shoulder shrug. “Sure,” he responds. “You managed to be quite a fan favorite.” he says to change the subject.

You scoff to yourself. “Of the dark web?” you question. “I’m not sure how to handle that.”

“No one ever truly does.” Namjoon answers. “You have my vote.”

“Vote?” you ask, just as Namjoon puts his mask back over his face. “All of these people have to vote…?”

Namjoon nods, but doesn’t say anything.

“Thank you.” you murmur.

Namjoon’s vote is just one of hundreds.

“Follow me.” you tell Zarish, your eyes roaming around the large room to find no one you recognized. You find that those with gold masks were the ones who held higher importance. “Let’s get out of here while everyone is distracted.”

You grabbed Zarish’s hand in your own and tugged her along. You managed to get out of the large ballroom and into the quiet hallway. Your heels click along the marble floor, as does hers.

“Where are we going?” Zarish sputtered, her head turning back to the party for a moment before looking ahead at you.

The plan had hit you an hour in. You had met more people, all who spoke to you behind their respected masks. You were polite to them, even engaging in light conversations before you were onto the next; none of them being Jin. You suppose he was watching you from the shadows, awaiting for when the votes would be announced.

Zarish was a beautiful girl, tall with long black hair that she had tucked in a low ponytail. Her dress is floor length and lavender-colored.

You go past the foyer to down the other side of the hall. It’s familiar to you both, where you had gone just hours before to clean the dead bodies of former contestants.

You drop Zarish’s hands when you reach one of the large kitchens. You turn to her. “Grab a weapon.”

“A weapon?” Zarish whispers with wide eyes. “W-Why-”

“How long do you think it’ll be until they realize we’re both gone?” you say, your heels clanking against the tiled floors of the kitchen as you search the drawers for a knife.

Zarish doesn’t say anything, but she’s visibly nervous. She goes to the other side of the large kitchen to find a weapon.

Your reflections glare in one of the large cutting knives. You grasp your hand around the handle and lift it up.

“Why are you here?” you ask Zarish as she opens one drawer. “For money?”

Zarish nods her head, her hands clenching the sides of the drawer.

“My father is sick.” she responds, releasing a soft sop. “If I would’ve known I was coming to this…”

You sympathize with her. You take a few steps closer to her until you’re behind her, your free hand on the short of her back.

“My sister,” you speak, taking a deep breath. “I came for her. To give us both a better life.”

Zarish nods slowly.

“I don’t think any of us knew…” you don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you clench your eyes shut.

“I…I just want to get out of here.”

Zarish’s voice cracks when she speaks. She doesn’t want to cry, especially not now. She sniffles and turns around to face you. “Y/N, I-”

It takes all the will in you to jab the knife right into her stomach. It was nothing personal to her. You held no ill intent towards her, and if there was truly a way out of here, surely you and she would’ve managed.

Maybe in a perfect world there was. You and she ran off into the arms of safety - yet this was reality. There were cameras watching your every move.

Zarish doesn’t put up a fight. Possibly death was easier than fighting her way out of here. The saddened look in her eyes does reach yours, yet she doesn’t say anything in protest.

You remove the knife from her stomach, her hands going to the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

“I’m going to help your father.” you murmur, driving the knife repeatedly back into her stomach several times. Each time is met with a gasp from the woman. “So in a way, you being here isn’t completely a loss.”

You’re completely covered in blood by the time you’re done, Zarish’s lifeless body on the pristine floors. Her blood soaks into your dress. You drop the knife and it clunks loudly on impact.

You make your way out of the kitchen and down the familiar hall towards the foyer and back to the ballroom. It’s as if no one has truly noticed you and Zarish are gone.

You stop at the doorway of the ballroom, the blood staining your hands. Your eyes search for Jin and you’re sure you found him. His mask is the only mask that stands out, a silver color. It appears as if he’s watching you from the eyeholes of the mask.

You walk towards him, your mind focusing on him and only him. The people appear to be quiet now as you walk past them, allowing you to stroll without a problem.

You stop just a few short feet away from Jin, panting heavily now.

“You told me,” you begin, your eyes never wavering. “that if i wanted to win…if I wanted a better life…” you swallow. “...I’d have to show you.”

Jin’s right hand reaches up towards the silver mask. Slowly, he lifts it from his face. His expression is an emotionless one, but it’s easier to speak with him now that you can see his eyes.

“What did you do?” Jin questions, though he’s positive he has an idea.

“I killed her.” you respond. “She…”

Your thoughts speak at you all at once. You tilt your head a bit.

“She was going to run away.” you mumble. “She…told me to go with her. I did.” you admit half of the truth, because did it truly matter now? “...then I killed her. There isn’t a way out of here, right?” you ask Jin. “We would have both been dead. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to win.”

Jin’s dark eyes watch you from where he stands. Slowly, your sanity was dripping away and in such a short amount of time.

Rosy plump lips grin towards you and that alone causes your heart to leap.

“Come,” Jin announces, his hand waving you over.

Widening your eyes, you do as you’re told. You round the large table and come besides Jin, behind him a few bodies you were not aware of, all dawning gold masks.

Jin goes into his pocket and grasps a small, square box. “Congratulations, Y/N.” Jin speaks, opening the box to reveal a ring inside of it. It’s quite different from a ring you’d expect as a wedding ring, yet this whole situation alone was. It has a gold band that surrounds itself with diamonds while an oval emerald diamond sits right in the middle of it, smaller silver diamonds outlining the oval shape.

“We have no time to waste.” Jin removes the ring from the box and holds it up. “Give me your hand.”

You watch in slight awe as Jin slides the ring onto your finger. It’s a surreal feeling in knowing that you won this twisted game he has forced you into. A game that lasted only a few hours, but felt like weeks on end.

There’s clapping that sounds throughout the ballroom and for a moment, you nearly forgot that it wasn’t just you and Jin in the room.

A man with a gold mask comes forward, papers in hand. It wasn’t Namjoon, you note, as the man wasn’t as tall.

“Come,” Jin wraps a hand around your waist. “let’s sign these documents.”

Jin doesn’t waste any time in handing you your own pen to sign a few documents that he doesn’t allow you to read. All of your signatures were right besides his, already pre-signed.

You aren’t nervous about signing your life away. Afterall, it isn’t everyday that you go through such trials and tribulations to assure you live long enough to see yourself be married.

That, and murder someone for the first time. Maybe tomorrow when your reality dawns on you would you actually break down. As of now, your mind remains blank and you’re working on autopilot.

There’s a hand that catches you out of your thoughts. It’s holding a clear champagne glass full of slightly bubbling liquid.

You grasp the glass from one of the men sporting a gold mask. He holds another one out for Jin who also takes it. Jin holds his glass up for you to clank against his in a toast.

“To Y/N and I,” Jin announces, his dark eyes reaching yours. “to death do us part.” he says, a more sinister meaning behind the words.

There’s more cheering as you lift the champagne to your lips and sip, as does Jin. His eyes never leave you. He finds that even if you’re possibly in shock now, the reality not fully sinking in yet and covered in blood, he finds you beautiful.

Maybe it’s also because in a short amount of time, you’ve managed to succumb to a bit of madness, realizing that if you wanted to survive all of this meant that you had to do what you possibly didn’t want to.

“A lot to handle in just one day?” Jin murmurs your way, leaning down a bit. There’s chattering throughout the entirety of the ballroom.

“Yeah.” you nod your head in agreement. “I…became a killer?” you’re unsure how else to put it.

Jin chuckles at your cuteness. “In a way,” he responds. “the best has yet to come.”

You aren’t sure exactly what he meant, but you were going to find out.

Your body warms in a matter of minutes and slowly, you begin to relax. You were already eerily calm as if you hadn’t murdered an innocent woman. Yet, you felt even calmer - was that possible?

It was as if your body was shooting serotonin boosts throughout you and you were becoming relaxed.

Happy even.

“You,”

Seokjin’s voice sounded so close to you as you down the rest of the champagne. Your throat was throbbing for more, thirst growing throughout you.

“are in for a long ride.” Seokjin finishes as he places a hand on the low of your back. Dangerously low that it shooks electricity right up your spine.

“Am I?” you question, turning a bit to look at him. His lips are curled slightly and beady eyes are already watching you.

“Indeed you are.” Seokjin murmurs. He takes a curt sip of his bubbling champagne before he presses the glass to your lips. You open your mouth to drink the remaining of it, your eyes unblinking from Seokjin’ - almost as if in a trance.

“There’s things people like us do.” Seokjin’s fingers tap along your back. “The elites.”

“Elites?”

Seokjin begins to stroll and he keeps you close to him. The room is crowded as it has been for a while, yet you remain close to Seokjin as if it was just the two of you. The room is loud with chattering voices that you cannot make out in any conversation, but even then you only hear Seokjin as he speaks.

“Powerful people like me.”

Jin steers you towards a tall door that opens upon arrival by another masked figure who waits right beside it. The masked man bows to Jin and you as the two of you stroll through the door and down the long, carpeted hallway.

“These…parties?” you question. You rock your head side to side a bit, your hand coming up to wipe your forehead of a light trail of sweat. “Is everyone here elites?”

Jin nods his head. “Everyone once in a while, we all come together.” he murmurs. For an odd reason, the carpeted hallway appears entirely too long. At the end of said hallway is a pair of double doors that match the ones you and he walked through. “It’s like a secret society.”

“Secret society…” you trail off. You blink a few times when you and Jin reach the end of the hallway, your mind thinking a million questions at once. “...what do you guys do…?”

You got your answer quicker than you realized. The door is opened by Jin and he pushes you in gently. Your eyes trail over the large room. The carpet is the same crimson red as the hallway, though this time there’s gold patterns. The tall walls appear to be stone and now you realize just how enclosed this room is.

Moans and squeals fill the room, naked bodies all over the place. You and Jin’s entrance goes unnoticed by the sea of people engaging in sexual activity. Right in the middle of the large room are a group of women engaging in oral sex, their manicured hands roaming one anothers naked bodies.

Jin notices the way you push yourself closer to him and his arm around you holds you a bit tighter. He leans down a bit to murmur to you.

“Sometimes we come together and have a little fun.” Jin responds.

Within the sea of naked bodies, there’s still a few - men - that are covered. You noticed the gold masks that are similar to the ones Jin and Namjoon wore. Fully clothed and lingering in the area.

In the corner of the room, there’s a group of people fucking. A few naked bystanders watch, one woman's head on another's shoulders as if they were watching their favorite show. Your eyes watch the way the man fucks the woman with such earnest and need.

As if they were the only two in the room.

“Takes a lot to get used to this world.” Jin’s voice sends shivers down your spine and it knocks you back into reality. “You are an elite now.”

You swallow, eyes slowly widening at the words before you shake your head a bit. You bite your lip as you continue to survey the area. Were all these people elites? Is this what the ultra wealthy did? Partake in sex parties?

It shouldn’t catch you by surprise. You recall Namjoon’s words from earlier on how he voted for you. This was another part of the world of the elite. A game. After watching you all engage in a sick game of survival, they come here and fuck one another brains out.

You take a deep breath. There wasn’t any turning back now. Your dress is still covered in Zarish’s blood, staining the expensive material. Your mind is swirling and your core is telling you that possibly you drank more than just champagne.

“You look tense, Y/N.” Jin rubs your back softly. “You should unwind.”

“Unwind…how?” you question low. You could guess how. The sea of people all surrounding you two, all engaging in different sexual positions. “Jin?”

“Hm?” Jin hums. His long fingers appear to tap along your back as he awaits for you to answer him.

“Zarish,” you begin, swallowing a bit. Your mind was swirling and you didn’t want to forget what you had promised her prior to what you’ve done. “I…I promised her…”

Jin blinks, perfect eyelashes fluttering. “That you’d help her sick father?”

You knit your brows.

“I know everything about all my contestants.” Jin continues with a curt nod of his head. “You remain so noble, Y/N. My wife.” Jin’s fingers dance up your spine until they stop at the nape of your neck. “Whatever you set out to do, I will allow it. For now, let’s enjoy ourselves.”

Your head turns just in time to catch the figure that struts towards you. The gold mask comes to your line of vision and all you can think of was Jin and Namjoon. You do not move, even when the masked man stops directly in front of you and offers a bit of a head tilt. You cannot see his eyes and the eye holes of the golden mask appear like an endless dark hole.

“Y/N this is-”

“Jimin.”

The masked man speaks, his voice muffled a bit behind the golden mask. His hand lifts up to remove the mask, an act that appears taboo in a place such as this, but possibly he does it as an act of familiarity.

The man that comes from behind the golden mask has the same level of beauty as Jin and Namjoon, a pair of dark eyes staring back at you and a low grin that shows ulterior motives.

Jimin…

The man’s pearly white smile captivates you for a second too long that when he holds his hand out for you to take, you’re standing a bit dumbfounded.

“It’s nice to get the chance to meet you, Y/N.” Jimin’s voice sounds like honey - sweet and sugary. “My name is Jimin. Park,” Jimin, once you place your hand in his surprisingly soft and calloused-free ones, lifts it to his mouth. They’re a bit glossy, you note. “Jimin.” he says after he pecks your hand.

Your head slowly turns to Jin who’s already watching. He doesn’t say anything about Jimin’s actions and instead takes a step back, as if to allow you to do as you pleased.

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” you murmur meekly. Your thighs pressed together firmly, the surrounding moans mixed with skin slapping was too much. How could they ignore the sex surrounding them?

They were elites, your mind tells you. They do this often.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Jimin allows your hand to drop, but he doesn’t step away.

“Yes…?” you glance around a bit. One girl is on her knees not too far away. Her mouth was occupied and so were her hands.

“Is that a question?” Jimin chuckles. He turns his head behind him to follow your gaze. “This must be a lot for you.”

All you can feel is your body burning up. You release a short huff. The room was stuffy and even this dress was feeling a bit too tight.

“I have never been a part of…”

“An Orgy.” Jimin chuckles, his laughter just as sweet as his voice that it causes you to melt a bit.

You proceed to glance towards Jin again. Just what was he doing standing and watching you for?

“Would you like to?”

Jin doesn’t answer for you, not even when your eyes meet his for any form of guidance.

You’re sure you don’t have a choice, you think. You were brought here for a reason. The blood on your dress was the reminder of the choice you made. The papers you’ve signed and the ring Jin put on your finger.

Slowly, you nod your head.

You wanted this, you told yourself.

You’ve killed for this.

“Champagne?”

There’s another voice this time. It’s as though you were hypnotized by Jimin that you had not realized another golden masked man stopped directly beside you. He holds out a single glass of bubbling champagne for you to take. You do, placing the glass against your lips and proceeding to downing the drink. You lick your lips as the masked man takes it from you.

“Turn around.”

That’s Jimin talking. You do, your heels falling silent against the carpeted floor. You’re now facing Jin. He’s leaning against the stone wall, his eyes never leaving yours.

Jimin’s hands are on your back and you could feel it loosening. He begins to unzip the dress slowly, bringing up anticipation. Your head tilts a bit, your breathing increasing.

“Not participating today?”

Jimin isn’t speaking with you. The masked man who brought you the champagne responds.

“Maybe later. I just want to watch for now.”

Your dress falls to your ankles. You don’t feel cold, even when the goosebumps erupt through your bare skin. Your body grows even hotter, especially with how close the unknown masked man and Jimin were to you.

“Congratulations on your engagement Y/N.” Jimin murmurs from behind you.

“And to Jin-hyung.”

Jin’s eyes blink away to look at the two men behind you. He offers a curt nod to them.

There’s hands onto your body now and a pair of lips on your neck. They move entirely too fast for you to process. Your eyes flutter and it’s becoming difficult to keep your eyes on Jin.

“It’s been a while since we’ve sampled something new.”

You catch a glimpse of it from the corner of your eyes. The gold mask that falls to the floor.

Jimin’s index finger hooks beneath your chin and pulls your face his way. His lips are centimeters away from you and before he could place his lips upon yours, you pull your face away.

Was this what Jin meant? Was he going to sit and watch you the entire time?

Jin’s eyes connect with yours for a moment and he only nods his head. His arms are crossed over his chest now.

Gradually, you begin to turn your head back towards Jimin. He hadn’t moved from his position and once he realized you were willing now, he placed his lips upon yours. They’re soft and have a faint taste of strawberries.

There’s a pair of large hands that grip at your skin as your lips dances with Jimin’s. Your body radiates more heat as if you’re a furnace and you cannot help the choked moan that dies down in your throat. Maybe it was because you knew Jin was watching you the entire time. Maybe it was because you’re just another body in a sea of people all doing the same.

Jimin releases your lips, but that doesn’t mean you are done. Your face is yanked to the left and you finally come face to face with the other man. He’s just as beautiful as Jimin and the rest of them. His eyes are dark and his lips are thin as the kiss along your jaw. The unknown man was rougher than Jimin, his large hand cupping your neck to pull you closer to him.

“Taehyung.” the man says, his voice deep and raspy that you clench around nothing upon hearing it. As if reading your mind, he introduces himself before his own lips are on yours. He forces your mouth open, his tongue exploring your mouth.

“Champagne, sir?”

Jin turns his eyes to the naked woman with a tray of champagne. She doesn’t look directly in his eyes as she awaits for him to dismiss her or take the champagne offered. He does, long fingers hooking around the glass and he nods his head to dismiss her. She strolls away, naked body swaying into the sea of people.

Jin brings the bubbling liquid to his lips, eyes darting back to you. You were a mess already, Taehyung and Jimin not being known to waste any time. You were already out of your bra and it lay discarded on the ground. Taehyung has a mouth full of your left nipple, large hands aggressively gripping and tugging on your breast as he suckles.

Jimin’s hand find their way between your legs that he shoves apart. He doesn't bother to tear your panties off just yet, his fingers working your clit as his tongue twirls over your right nipple.

Your moans do not go unnoticed by Jin, even in a room full of squeals, slapping skin and aggressive moaning. They’re like honey - sweet and curt and entirely new to his ears. He licks his lips, taking another sip of champagne.

It’s entirely too fast for you to process, you think. The way Taehyung was rough and dominant while Jimin was the exact opposite. He was more teasing, his fingers rubbing circles on your clit while his tongue flickers your nipple dangerously slow.

You don’t attempt to contact your moans and even your body begins to feel heavy. You’re leaning entirely onto Jimin, but the man doesn’t appear to be bothered by it.

“S-Slow down-”

Taehyung’s teeth graze your nipple as he pops it from his mouth. His eyes look upwards at you and he grunts. “No.” he says. “We’re preparing you for hyung.”

You gasp when Jimin’s finger skims across your hole, teasing you even more. He chuckles a bit, a cool laugh because he knows just how much you want his fingers in you.

“Get you nice and ready to be fucked.” Jimin sing-songs, his contrast compared to Taehyung a true eye opener.

“Table.” Taehyung says, and before you have the chance to process, you feel yourself being lifted off your feet.

You yelp when your back slams against something cold and hard. Your eyes dance around the large table, already occupied with people, yet you were the center of it. To your right were women who were being watched by other masked men - not golden masks - as they performed several sex acts.

“Take these off.” Taehyung tugs at your panties, snatching them away from your wet core and down your legs. He doesn’t bother to toss them anywhere near you and instead discards them behind his shoulders. “Let’s see how wet you are, huh?”

“Pretty wet.” Jimin says from beside Taehyung, placing a few of his fingers in his mouth and sucks them.

Taehyung’s hand slaps against your inner thighs once he shoves them apart. You squeal, the action causing a jolt of pleasure right through you.

“We’ll make you even wetter.”

It’s Taehyung that acts first, long fingers inching inside of you. Your back arches when he begins to pound them inside of you so roughly that you barely have time to react. Beside him Jimin holds your right leg while Taehyung your left, both eyes trained on the way your pussy clenches around his fingers.

Jin emerges right behind you on the table, another glass of champagne in his hand. He looks down at your face - fucked out expression with fluttering eyes and flushed skin. There’s a bit of drool in the corner of your mouth that trails down your jaw.

“You must want a cock in you, Y/N. You’re milking all over Tae’s palm!” Jimin chuckles, squeezing your thigh.

“No fair!”

Jin knows the voice of his dongsaeng. The whiny familiar voice of Jeon Jungkook as he appears, mask dangling from his shoulders.

“You didn’t wait for me!”

Taehyung’s pump slows a bit as he turns to the younger man with a roll of his eyes. He releases a sigh. “You were late.”

“I was busy.”

Jungkook meets your glossy gaze and he grins.

“Y/N,” Jungkook leans closer to you. “I’ve voted for you since the beginning.”

“You’re ruining the moment, Kook. Do something or go.” Jimin hisses, with a soft glare.

“I plan to.” Jungkook pushes Taehyung away. “You’re doing nothing but teasing her. I’ll be making her cum.”

The three of them together always caused competition - Jungkook being the most competitive of the trio. Jin doesn’t say anything and he’s a bit amused when you sigh meekly.

Jungkook takes Taehyung’s place between your legs, forcing your right leg into place so you cannot move away from him. He offers you a short wink before lowering himself to your clit.

Your thighs jolt to close, but with Jimin and Jungkook, they don’t. Jungkook’s tongue is warm and it licks between your folds rather aggressively.

Taehyung isn’t amused by being taken over by Jungkook, but he isn’t going to fight him. Not now, at least. Instead, he places his fingers inside your gasping mouth.

Tasting your arousal was something you’d never thought you do - yet, neither was being an “elite” and partaking in…orgies? Especially while your soon to be husband watched above you.

However, it all appears to be a dream. You aren’t bothered being completely naked by three unknown men you all met today while one eats you out as if he has something to prove.

Your eyes roll as there’s another set of fingers pumping inside of you now all the while Jungkook’s warm tongue continues to suckle onto your clit. Your chest heaves as it was all too much now. You’re unsure who’s hand is gripping at your breast, their thumb flicking your nipple, but you’re sure it’s Jimin.

Jin can feel his cock twitching from his suit pants. He drops the empty glass onto the table and leans closer to you, cloudy eyes on the way your breast bounces as your hips jerk against Jungkook’s tongue, pussy squeezing around his fingers.

“She’s so fucked out.” Taehyung chuckles, removing his fingers from your mouth so he trails them down towards your breast.

“I think she’s about to cum.” sing-song Jimin.

“Are you ready for her, hyung?” asks Taehyung.

“I didn’t make her cum yet.” Jungkook groans, fingers pumping inside of you. Your juices coat his palm and he’s entirely enthralled by how sopping wet you are.

“We’re just warming her up.”

Jungkook groans. There’s nothing more he hates than to leave a woman in such a manner. He removes his fingers and sighs with a shake of his head. “Maybe next time.” he says with a cute pout. It’s then you notice the piercing on his lip. “Hyung.”

You lay flat against the table now, chest heaving. Your thighs quiver and you can barely keep your eyes open now. Your high was slowly coming down, but even then did you feel the electricity through your veins.

“Time to consummate the marriage!”

Jimin’s voice dances through your ears.

“Y/N,”

You open your eyes to see Jin right in front of you. His head is tilted and he appears to wait for you to be fully coherent before he speaks again.

“Welcome to the elites.” Jin says, taking a step closer between your legs.

You exhaled a shaky breath, unanswering.

Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook stand around, their own glasses of champagne in their hand and they down them one by one.

Your low eyes watch as Jin begins to loosen his belt from around his waist.

“Enjoy your night tonight, boys.” Jimin says, lifting his third glass of champagne. His eyes turn from Jungkook to Taehyung. “There’s a long work week ahead of us.”

They carry on their own conversation that goes on deaf ears when Jin places both hands onto your waist and pulls you closer towards him.

“You aren’t going to remember this tomorrow.” Jin murmurs. “You’ve had a lot to drink.”

“I’ll manage.” you murmur back, a hand reaching out to grab at his suit. “Please fuck me.”

Jin chuckles at your filthy words but he was going to do exactly what you asked.

“I have a million on one match in Paris.” Taehyung says. “I have to leave tomorrow morning.”

Jin’s cock is leaking pre-cum when he releases it from his underwear, his suit pants dropping by his ankles.

“Your pussy is pretty.” Jin comments. “I’m glad you won the game, Y/N. You fit into this world greatly.”

Jin enters you without much warning, but your pussy is so wet that it isn’t a problem. The stretch is good, a low groan deep in your throat.

Jin begins to pound into you, his aggressive thrusts only adding to the other around the large room. His eyes watch the way your breast bounces beneath him. He hooks your legs around his waist for a deeper entrance.

Witnessing the way you submit fully to him and allowing yourself to be pleasured by his dongsaengs caused a deep desire to grow within him. In all ways but one, you were the one he needed. The endless games he partaken in to assure he found the perfect wife had led him to you.

Your pussy grips Jin’s cock with such need. It’s as if it’s been waiting for him this entire time like a missing puzzle piece. He never wants to stop, he thinks. You’re beautiful underneath the dim lights of the room, eyes dark and clouded with temptation, lust and intoxication.

“You’re gonna cum before I do.” Jin grumbles, his fingernails digging into the skin of your hips. He snaps his hips roughly, the table long moving erratically beneath the two of you. “Go ahead and let go, Y/N.”

You’re flipped, your front slammed against the cold table.You come face to face with Jungkook, who’s eyes sparkle a bit, but you don’t have the time to talk. Jin enters you once more, pounding so deep inside of you. Your hands reach out to hold anything on the table and find nothing - until Jimin takes your hand and allows you to squeeze.

“I have to go to Japan.” Jimin says, his thumb rubbing the top of your hand encouragingly as his hyung fucks you without a care in the world. “Meeting with politicians.”

“Ugh, boring.” Jungkook leans back, arms behind his head as he listens to Jimin speak.

“F-Fuck.” you shake your head, stomach churning with the familiar feeling from early - the one you lost when Jungkook was forced away from you.

“Let go,Y/N. Cum all over me.” Jin says darkly, his fingernails were going to leave bruises on your skin when he was done with you.

Your ass slams against his abdomen, his pounds growing harder and harder by the second.

“To the newlyweds.” Taehyung raises yet another glass of champagne, his words slurred a bit.

You’re seeing white this time, juices pooling out and down your thighs. You squeeze Jimin’s hand in your own, a spew of curse words leaving your lips.

Jin isn’t done - not yet. He continues fucking into you while you squirm underneath him. It was all too much to handle, the overstimulation beginning to hurt a bit. However, the pain felt good and even you found that you were going to cum once more.

“I’m going to take you to our home and fuck you even more.” Jin’s sloppy thrust indicates that he was just as wrecked as you were. A hand takes your hair and forces you back so he can place his plump lips besides your ear. “Y/N…my wife…” Jin groans, milky seeds erupting inside of you so deep. It’s just as hot as you feel, filling you to the brim entirely.

You drop back onto the table with an exhausted huff, eyes fluttering close. Jin remains inside of you, his cum pooling out and filling you up at both a rabid and slow pace. Sweat pools the corner of your forehead and you are about done with the night.

“To the newlyweds.” Jungkook claps his hands together. “I can’t wait for the wedding.”

“To think it took this long for you to find the perfect one.” Jimin states. You are asleep now. Still naked and on top of the table, weariness taking over your body completely. “One manipulative little bitch she is for tricking that girl. I like her.”

Jin agrees. He pulls his pants up and tightens his belt just as before. “Whatever it takes to win.” he says, placing a hand onto your head and rubbing a bit. “She’ll fit right in.”

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jellitchi · 7 months ago

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artist au... smiles

more under the cut

artist au where grian and scar are both artists. they met in college coz they both were assigned each other as a roomie and they both just really clicked🙊... anyways got a place tgt, now they js live tgt. this au is just them being domestic sorry its very boring😭...

grian is a freelance artist, looking for work. he mostly works with acrylics and oil paints but has been kinda stumped recently n has been rly into pottery. hes trying sculpture but its kinda difficult for him to get the hang of it. mostly likes using the pottery wheel. he helps out as an assistant in art classes at the college he graduated from sometimes, sometimes does figure drawing art modeling whatever thats called when asked? shrugs

scar is an architect (act surprised) who has like a legitimate Talent for art. this kinda pisses grian off (competitive) coz grian does study after Study.... and art js doesnt click for him the way it seems to click for scar and it frustrates him. They still r esch others motivation and inspiration (CORNYYYY) anyways back to scar hes mostly does like Ideas / drafts... he rly wants to do landscaping but he js has a knack for buildings- like apts, shops, office spaces yeah... Like Ideally he wants to do theme park stuff Then landscaping- but he has a stable career working as a building architect so he just is content. he mostly works from home, most of his work is online so a lotta his colleagues r js like Via Zoom And whatever so he rly like getting out when he can

grian usually is like Im going to go sit and draw in the Rose Gardens. and scar joins him they do parallel play or whatever

Btw theyre not tgt theyre just heavily pinning (Theyve been pinning for the last 5 yrs.

#grian #goodtimeswithscar #desert duo #mcyt #fanart #lizzysart #artist au

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lovelyjj · 2 months ago

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I feel like no matter what hobby/extracurricular activity JJ’s girlfriend was involved in, he’d be supportive. She’s on the school basketball team? He comes to every game and cheers her on. She paints? He gets one of her paintings framed and hangs it on his bedroom wall. She does karate and competes in local tournaments? He brags about her to his friends whether she wins or not. She’s acting in a school play? He’s in the front row on opening night and gives her flowers after the show.

JJ was probably the most supportive person in your life. He was your number one fan. He always showed up for you no matter what it was, he was there. Having a boyfriend that supported you through even the worst days was amazing. He was such a blessing, you thanked god every day that he brought him to you.

And you had a lot of hobbies. For example you loved photography. You were always taking pictures and JJ just so happened to be your muse. You took solo pictures of JJ and pictures together. You took pictures of the view and landscape. JJ framed a few. He was always praising your work. “Wow that one’s a beauty baby,” JJ would say.

And you would love to dance. You’ve been a dancer ever since you were little. JJ loved to watch you in your element. He say front row at every dance competition. He cheered for you the loudest, “Yeah Y/N!” And when you’re on your way home wether you win or loose he always says, “You’re the best dancer i’ve ever seen, you won in my book.”

Another activity you would love to do is reading. You loved getting lost in a book. You loved fantasy and romance and everything under the sun. JJ would ask you to read to him and then fall asleep on your chest. He would also read to you because you would ask. You loved his voice it made you feel all warm inside.

Then you wanted to take up volleyball. You got yourself on a women’s team. It was really fun. JJ came and sat front row at every game and cheered the loudest for you. He even help you practice by tossing you the ball and helping you serve.

Yeah JJ was your biggest fan and number one supporter. He would do anything for you. You were his everything. You enjoyed your hobbies but doing your hobbies with the support of JJ made it even better. He had your heart and you were okay with him keeping it.

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moonriverrise · 2 years ago

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Steve has a secret, well “secret” may not be the correct way to describe it. He has something for himself, thats what. Ever since he stopped playing basketball and doing swim competitions once he graduated he's had way more free time, which at first he filled with shifts at Family Video, or bothering Robin.

Then, when she started school he started doing art more. Which, may come a surprise to many, as he never really talked about his interest in paintings and old art.

Greek sculptures that are able to show life in a still ethereal way, while still being able to twist it at their will. Renaissance oil paintings, capturing tragedy yet still being able to portray it as beautiful, in their own terrible twisted ways.

He likes sketching on paper, painting on canvas. His paintings aren't usually too different from the things he sees around him. Honestly thats the only things he paints, people, his friends, places he goes, things he sees that stick with him, dreams, moments that play on repeat in his head.

Around his Junior year, after the Demogorgon, Steve had turned the sad basement in his sad empty house, into his own space. A place where he can go and do his art, hang it, play music on his walkman, or using the record player he got from a pawn shop a few months prior. Somehow the basement is the only space that actually feels like his in his house, not even his bedroom.

Steve’s art was not very consistent to be honest, mostly the kids and Robin, landscapes that he liked, the Demogorgon/dogs, the Mindflayer (he needs some way of getting those out of his head, and somehow drawing them down feels freeing.) He does have a few paintings of Nancy from when they were together, she’s become less of a model for his work after everything though.

The last time he painted her in a painting alone, was one of that bathroom in a girl he barely knows’ house, a spilled drink on Nancy’s dress, and red solo cups littering the counter.

Steve’s art shifts though, after a moment that will never leave his mind. He knows who Eddie Munson is, obviously. How could he not? Honestly Steve isn't that surprised Henderson and the others befriended the guy, he does run a DnD club.

But then, Henderson needs a ride home after their club meetings because his mom is working late, and then Lucas and Mike’s parents are also asking Steve to pick them up too. Babysitting duty, as per usual.

Steve arrives a bit earlier than he planned. He didn't have any project to consume himself into, hitting an art block begrudgingly. But then, Steve sees Eddie Munson, sitting on a fake throne, watching the kids and other club members argue, he has his chin rested on his fist, and he's wearing a white tank top, showing off his shoulders, given the fact it’s still September.

The lighting of the small theater room captures Steve’s interest like a moth to the flame, and he is regretting having left his sketchbook at home, even though he never draws around the kids or anyone he knows.

Eddie Munson’s face and curly locks fill up the pages of Steve’s journal and some canvases for months after, and Steve rarely genuinely complains about coming to pick the kids up.

Afterwords, months later from that day. Chrissy Cunningham dies, and Eddie Munson almost goes with her. God, or whatever deity that was looking down upon him, was on Steve’s side in that moment, when he was able to revive Eddie and then drag him out of the Upside Down.

Steve gets closer with Eddie after that, they become actual friends. Steve was so used to witnessing his muse from afar, it was so…exciting, to see Eddie in all his glory, just a few feet away, and his smile being directed at him.

“Do you even have any hobbies, Harrington?” Steve blinks. Him, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and the party, are all hanging out by the pool. Steve is lounging on one of the chairs, sunglasses over his eyes as Eddie talks beside him.

“What?” Steve responds.

“I mean…I like barely ever see you do anything besides sort Movies at Family Video, or boss around the kids. Like, what do you do when we're not all together?” Eddie asks, moving his hand a little as he talks. Steve thinks for a moment.

“Funny,” Steve answers instead. Eddie scoffs.

“I'm being serious, man! What do you do?” Eddie laughs a little, most likely at the ridiculousness of it all. What would Steve know, Eddie is like a puzzle, and Steve has to take every minute slowly, deciphering everything he lays out for him, via tongue or action.

“I don't know, what do you do?” Steve says, almost carefully.

“Band stuff, DnD, Writing,” Eddie lists. “And I guess saving the world now, but thats a bit of a side hussle.” Steve scoffs.

“Whatever, man.” And thats that, they don't talk about it again. But it sticks with Steve, because his friends really do think he doesn't do anything with his life. It's not like he has college classes to study for, so what does he do?

Later, maybe two or three weeks after, Steve decides he wants to show Eddie his space. The two of them are alone, Robin is in Nevada, visiting her grandparents, so the trio’s usual movie night is cut down to a duo’s movie night.

Although Steve finds himself mostly focusing on Eddie and his beautiful hair sitting next to him, than watching ET. The little alien scares him a bit anyway. Eddie notices him staring though, his eyes flickering to meet Steves, then a smirk spreading across his lips.

“We are watching a movie, lover boy.” Eddie says. Steve goes red, his gaze shifting to his lap. Steve furrows his eyebrows then stands and shuts the TV off. “Woah! Hey!”

“I want to show you something.” Steve says, it's a bit quieter than he meant it to be, but his tone indicates something to Eddie, which has him staring at Steve, starstruck.

Steve walks out the room and hears Eddie follow him. He gets to the basement door and opens it, flicks on the stair light.

“Basement- woah- okay, guess I'm getting murdered. Thought I’d go out in a more metal way than this.” Eddie says as they walk down. Steve laughs a little and shakes his head.

“I just think you should see this.” Steve says. “Nothing life threatening, I promise.”

“Alright, I trust you, Stevie.”

“Good.”

Steve turns and flicks on the light as they step onto the concrete. The lights flicker on, revealing the paintings on the walls and art supplies on the tables and counters.

“Woah-” Eddie says. “Is this, all your stuff?” Steve sighs, he folds his arms and faces Eddie. He looks shellshocked.

“Yeah.” Steve says. “You said I don't have any hobbies, I do, actually.” Eddie looks around, walking slowly.

“Is that Henderson? Why is he wearing yellow gloves?” Eddie asks. Steve walks over to a painting of Dustin from Steve’s angle while they were walking on the train tracks, a bucket of raw meat is in one hand and he's wearing the headphones for his radio.

“D’Art,” Steve says. “That was when we were leading him away. I made that one after everything happened. I was trying not to think about the Demogorgon stuff and everything, so I just drew him. I have one of Max from that day I never finished painting in a stack I think too.” Eddie doesn't say anything for a minute after Steve is done explaining.

“You can paint.” Eddie says, though not like a question. “These are beautiful…” Eddie looks around and walks to another one he sees. It's one of the Byers and Hopper’s, all hugging while laughing. El looks the happiest. Steve had painted that after they had all gotten together after everything. “Why…didn't you tell anyone?”

“About what?” Steve asks, folding his arms as Eddie brings up a hand to touch the painting.

“This- Steve, you're amazing at this. These are…” Eddie trails off as something catches his eye, he slowly starts to walk towards a big painting propped up behind one of the tables laid out in the middle of the room. Steve walks to him to see which one he's looking at.

An angel, knelt over a puddle, crying as it stares at his reflection, which is blurred and dark. He stands in a forest, his wings are long and huge, sprawling out above him.

It’s one of Steve’s bigger ones, the inspiration came from a dream he had after they had read about Icarus in his english class back in Highschool.

“It’s… magnificent.” Eddie whispers. Steve smiles gently at Eddie’s reaction. Eddie backs up a bit and looks away from the painting. “Is that me?” Steve follows his eye, to the painting. Eddie walks towards it, Steve stays behind him. It’s the first one Steve ever made of Eddie, the one of him on the throne.

“Yeah, it is.” Steve says. “I made that the first night I came to pick up the kids.” He says. “The first time I met you, actually met you.” They share a look.

“You are incredible, Steve Harrington.”

#this was way longer than i meant it to be #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #stranger things 4 #steddie ficlet #sock meister drabbles #hope yall liked this cuz it got kinda stuck in my head after i had a whole class on art and the renaissance so

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lyratea · 2 months ago

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Winter Legacy Challenge

You’ve always hated the heat, as a kid you dreamed of snowy mountains and chilly air. But now, as a young adult, you're finally leaving your warm hometown behind to start fresh in the cold, serene peaks of Mt. Komorebi. With nothing but the winter landscape ahead, and ready to build a new life — a legacy — in the heart of the snow. Welcome to the Winter Legacy Challenge! Expansion packs you'll need: -- Snowy Escape. If you don't have snowy escape, but have seasons, this works fine too. It's okay to play through spring considering the weather conditions BUT you'll have to remember to enable testingcheats and change it back to winter once it becomes summer with seasons.set_season 2 -- Seasons Recommend packs, but BG alternatives provided: -- Outdoor Retreat -- Life and Death -- Spa Day Not needed, but nice for gameplay: -- Island Living -- Eco Lifestyle

Rules: -- You may use freerealestate for your first house, but after please refrain from using any other cheats while playing. -- Normal or Long lifespans. -- Careers are up to you, UNLESS stated otherwise. -- You need to complete each requisite (goals, and challenges for the generation. Aspirations if stated) before that sim dies. If they die before everything is completed, their heir must pick a goal or challenge to complete in honor of them. -- If they die before producing a heir, you fail. -- If a sim dies from freezing, their heir must honor them by building a small memorial or shrine. Gen 1: Winter Dreamer Backstory: Having spent their life in the desert, this Sim dreams of snow-covered landscapes. They’ve saved enough to move to a permanent winter wonderland. Snow brings them joy, and they dedicate themselves to creating a cozy, snow-loving life. Traits: Cheerful, Loves Outdoors, Family-Oriented Aspiration: Mt. Komorebi Sightseer Goals:

Complete your aspiration entirely.

ALWAYS Complete the Winterfest holiday tradition (decorate the tree, cook a holiday meal, etc).

Have a Hot Tub on your plot. (OR build a pool and add decorative rocks and greenery around it)

Collect all Sammies.

Challenge: Your Sim must spend 3+ hours outside daily, no matter the weather or their needs. (It can be making snow angels or exploring town, etc.)

Gen 2: Frostbitten Adventurer Backstory: Growing up surrounded by snow, this Sim craves adrenaline-fueled adventures. They embrace the wildness of winter, seeking thrilling experiences and surviving extreme conditions. Traits: Adventurous, Active, Self-Assured Aspiration: Extreme Sports Enthusiast Goals:

Master the Snowboarding skill.

Reach at least Rock Climbing level 5, to prepare for intense outdoor activities.

Woo a partner during a Festival of Snow or a snowy outing.

Challenge: Participate in at least three snowboarding, sledding, or skiing competitions—and win at least one before aging up.

Gen 3: Icy Artisan Backstory: Born into a family of survivors and adventurers, this Sim found solace in the beauty of the winter landscape and became a renowned artist known for their winter-themed works. Traits: Creative, Loves the Outdoors, Proper Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire Goals:

Visit a National Park (via Outdoor Retreat pack) or build a homestead filled with outdoor elements.

Paint or take 8 winter-themed works (snowy forests, ice skating, festive winter scenes).

Embrace Winterfest as their favorite holiday, decorating the tree, and hosting festive gatherings.

Challenge: To make a living, they will rely only on their art—no regular jobs allowed. No thermostat can be used to heat the home this generation, use fireplaces or space heaters instead.

Gen 4: Frozen Royalty Backstory: This Sim believes they are the ruler of a frozen kingdom. Eccentric and ambitious, they build an empire to match their icy vision, complete with loyal subjects and a grand icy palace. Traits: Ambitious, Snob, Romantic Aspiration: Mansion Baron Goals:

Host at least two grand events each winter (Winter Balls, fancy dinners, or other social gatherings). These events must include 6+ guests, top-quality food, and gold-level rewards.

Have at least one child with Father Winter.

During the winter season, go ice skating. Max the skating skill. You are allowed to put them on your plot so you don't need to travel, if you have the funds and room. (There is one located somewhere in Mt. Komorebi, if you dont have Snowy Escape, travel to Magnolia Blossom Park in Willow Creek during winter.)

Challenge: Your heir must inherit an heirloom and keep the ‘icy empire’ alive. (if you don't own life and Death, that’s okay, just pick something that stays with the heir until they die. It can be in their inventory or place somewhere in the lot.

Gen 5: The Eternal Winter Keeper? As the heir to a family built on the love for winter and it’s traditions, you’ve always known your role: to continue your ancestors’ mission of preserving the eternal frost. But as the years go on, you’ve begun to question your destiny. You long for warmth, sun, and freedom from the cold. The decision weighs heavily on your heart:

Will you stay loyal to your family and uphold their wintery legacy? Or will you break away and forge a new path, leaving snow behind for the warmth of tropical shores?

Path 1: Frozen Protector Backstory: For generations, your family has served as stewards of winter—a lineage entrusted with keeping the delicate balance between the icy season’s beauty and its unforgiving harshness. You’ve grown up knowing that, as the next heir, the title of Winter Keeper will one day fall on you. Will you prove yourself worthy of the mantle, or will winter lose its way in your hands?Traits: Loyal, Outgoing, Lovebug (If not possible, use Romantic)Aspiration: Successful Lineage Goals:

Befriend at least three Sims who are “winter aligned” (traits like Loves Outdoors, Loner, or Creative, etc) and strengthen your bond by doing winter-related activities together at least once a week with one of them. If you have Get together, make a club with outlines relating to cold or festive activities.

Find your soulmate in a winter setting (at a snow-covered lot or during a winter festival). Woo them with romantic gestures like snowball fights, outdoor stargazing, or ice skating. Have an outside wedding with them.

Ensure your child connects with winter traditions by maxing out a related skill before they become a young adult (e.g., Violin for haunting melodies, Charisma for storytelling, or Fitness for winter sports).

Challenge: Add at least one major improvement to the family’s estate if you haven’t already: build an outdoor skating rink, a winter conservatory, or a family mausoleum for past heirs.

Path 2: The Sun Seeker Backstory: You’ve always felt like an outsider in your family, your dreams of warmth clashing with their love for snow. After years of feeling stifled by the cold, you decide to take the boldest step of all: abandoning your family’s icy traditions and embracing a life of sun, freedom, and joy. But forging a new path is never easy, especially when your roots are steeped in frost. Traits: Child Of the Ocean, Outgoing, Foodie Aspiration: Beach Life (Angling Ace if you don't own IL) Goals:

Move to a tropical destination (preferably Sulani) and embrace the warm climate fully. Marry a local Sim and raise your family in the tropical paradise!

Max out the Fishing skill

Befriend the dolphins (Island Living) or form a club of locals to celebrate your new lifestyle.

Challenge: Abandon all winter traditions. You can never celebrate Winterfest again. You must create a new summer holiday, or host a big party every Summer.

If you decide to take part, let me know by using #TS4WinterLC in your post! I hope to start this challenge in the next few days and share my progress ^.^

If you’d like to read it on a different platform, here’s the google doc!

I hope you have fun, stay warm, and happy simming everyone! ☃️

@ts4challengehub

#sims 4 legacy challenge #sims 4 legacy #sims community #the sims 4 #ts4 legacy #ts4 gameplay #winter #legacy gameplay

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fayelero · 18 days ago

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— WILDFLOWER ! timeskip!atsumu

➥ pr : timeskip!atsumu x famous!fem!reader

➥ syn : after a tough argument with your boyfriend, you got in a car accident…

➥ wc : 3.1k

➥ tw : tough argument, car accident, injured reader, angst to comfort, crying reader, y/n employed a lil.

➥ a/n : trauma era ! (it’s weird I’ll stop)

The lights of Shibuya sparkled like they always did—a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of neon advertisements flashing bright against the obsidian night sky, painting the urban landscape in vibrant, electric hues of pink, cerulean, and electric blue. Massive screens flickered with advertisements, music videos, and breaking news, casting their ever-changing glow across the bustling streets below. But high above the cacophony of the city, inside the sleek, minimalist luxury penthouse that had once been their sanctuary, the air was thick with a different kind of electricity—raw, crackling tension that threatened to consume everything in its path.

The once warm and welcoming space now felt cold, almost suffocating. Gone were the soft throw pillows carefully arranged by interior designers, the artful photography capturing moments of their shared past, the subtle scent of sandalwood that typically permeated the air. Now, there was only silence punctuated by ragged breathing and the distant hum of Tokyo's nightlife.

Atsumu stood by the kitchen counter, a study in controlled fury. His muscular frame was tense, arms crossed over his chest, revealing the definition of years of professional volleyball training. His brow was furrowed, a familiar competitive edge that usually served him on the court now turned inward, sharp and dangerous. His blonde hair, usually meticulously styled, was slightly disheveled—a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil brewing inside him.

You were on the opposite side of the room, pacing back and forth. Your designer heels—Louboutins, a gift from a recent magazine shoot—clacked against the pristine marble floor in a staccato rhythm that matched the racing of your heart. Each step was a statement, a declaration of your growing frustration.

The penthouse, situated in one of Shibuya's most exclusive high-rises, had always been a symbol of your collective success. But tonight, it felt more like a pressure cooker, ready to explode under the weight of unspoken resentments and mounting professional tensions.

"I'm so sick of this, Atsumu!" you screamed, your voice a complex mixture of rage and profound hurt. Tears streamed down your face, tracing perfect lines through your meticulously applied makeup. Your hands, adorned with delicate rings from your latest endorsement deals, gestured wildly, punctuating each word with raw emotion. "You're never here! Never! And when you are, all we do is fight. I've spent the last five years supporting you, loving you, waiting for you—while I'm out there building my own damn career!"

The vulnerability beneath your anger was palpable. These weren't just the words of a frustrated partner, but of someone who had consistently placed another's dreams ahead of their own, only to feel increasingly marginalized and forgotten.

Atsumu's response was immediate, defensive—a reflex honed from years of facing down opponents on the volleyball court. "And what? You expect me to just drop everything?!" His voice was louder than you'd ever heard it before, a mixture of Osaka dialect and raw emotion. "You think bein' a professional volleyball player is just fun and games? That it doesn't take everythin' I have to stay at the top?"

His words were defensive, but underneath lay a deep-seated insecurity. The volleyball world was unforgiving, with careers that could end in an instant. Every moment not training, not preparing, felt like a potential threat to everything he had worked for.

"That's not what I'm saying!" you yelled back, your voice cracking with a complexity of emotions. As you wiped furiously at your cheeks, the carefully constructed persona of the confident model and actress momentarily dissolved, revealing the deeply wounded individual beneath. "But it's like I don't exist to you anymore, Atsumu! It's like I'm just a damn afterthought!"

You paused, inhaling sharply, gathering the last reserves of your emotional ammunition. When you spoke again, your words were calculated, designed to wound. "You know what? Maybe you love volleyball more than you ever loved me."

The silence that followed was deafening.

The sting in your words was palpable—a razor-sharp blade that cut through the carefully constructed facade of their relationship. In Atsumu's eyes, you could see a storm brewing. His pupils dilated, the golden-brown irises darkening with a mixture of hurt, anger, and something deeper—a vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show.

His jaw clenched, a muscle twitching near his temple—a tell-tale sign of his rising frustration. The fists at his sides tightened, knuckles turning white, betraying the athletic control he typically maintained with such precision. Years of professional volleyball had taught him to channel emotions, to convert raw feeling into explosive physical energy. But here, in the intimate battlefield of their home, those skills failed him completely.

"Don't even start with that crap," he spat, his voice dripping with venom that was more pain than malice. The Osaka dialect grew thicker, a subconscious retreat into his most authentic self—the version of Atsumu that existed before the fame, before the pressure, before the constant performance of being a professional athlete. "You're the one out there posin' half-naked for the world to see! You don't even care about what that does to me, do ya? Every single time I see your face plastered all over those magazines, I'm reminded of how everyone else gets to see what's supposed to be mine!"

The words hung in the air, loaded with possessiveness, insecurity, and a deep-seated fear of loss.

You froze, his words slicing through you like a knife. The transformation was immediate—from emotional vulnerability to razor-sharp defensive mode. "Excuse me?" you said, voice dangerously low, each syllable carefully enunciated. The model's training kicked in—controlled, precise, devastating. "What's supposed to be yours? Atsumu, I'm not some possession you can just claim. I've worked my ass off to get where I am. And if you can't handle my success, that's on you—not me."

Your career hadn't been a gift. It had been a battlefield of its own—endless castings, brutal rejections, critical eyes dissecting every inch of your appearance, your talent, your worth. Each magazine cover, each commercial, each film role had been hard-won, purchased with countless sleepless nights and moments of self-doubt.

"Oh, so now I'm the bad guy?" he shot back, his voice heavy with sarcasm that barely concealed his hurt. "Yeah, sure. Poor you. The perfect little model and actress who gets everything handed to her on a silver platter. Do ya even realize how lucky you are?"

The accusation hung between them—a gross oversimplification of a complex journey.

Your mouth fell open, shock mixing with the anger that burned in your chest like an uncontrollable wildfire. "Lucky?" you repeated, the word dripping with disbelief and mounting fury. You took a step closer to him, closing the physical distance between you, your presence electric and challenging. "You think my career is easy? That I haven't sacrificed just as much as you have?"

The vulnerability returned, raw and unfiltered. "You have no idea what it's like to have your entire life picked apart by strangers, to have people constantly criticize you, to feel like you're never enough no matter how hard you try!"

In that moment, the fight transformed. It was no longer just about time, or absence, or professional demands. It was about two individuals drowning in the expectations of their careers, of society, of each other—desperately trying to maintain their individual identities while simultaneously trying to maintain a relationship.

The room fell silent, heavy with unsaid things. The city continued its relentless pulse outside, indifferent to the emotional storm raging within the penthouse. Neon lights continued to dance across the windows, a stark contrast to the stillness inside.

"I can't do this anymore," you whispered, the fight suddenly draining out of you. Your voice was soft, but filled with a finality that seemed to reverberate through the entire space. Shaking your head, you grabbed your designer handbag—a Chanel piece that had been a hard-earned gift by Atsumu after a particularly challenging campaign.

"Where the hell do ya think you're goin'?" Atsumu barked, his voice rising again, a last-ditch attempt to maintain control of a situation rapidly slipping away.

"Anywhere but here," you snapped, your hand already reaching for the Porsche keys in the decorative bowl by the door. The keys clinked against each other, a metallic punctuation to your decision. "I can't even stand to look at you right now."

Before he could respond—before he could plead, argue, or attempt to reconcile—you slammed the door. The sound reverberated through the penthouse, a final, definitive statement that seemed to echo the fracturing of something once believed to be unbreakable.

—

Travis Scott's "SICKO MODE" blasted at maximum volume, the bass so loud it seemed to vibrate through your very bones. The irony wasn't lost on you—a song about chaos and intensity perfectly matching the emotional storm raging inside your mind. The lyrics seemed to mock your pain, each beat a punctuation to your spiraling thoughts.

The words rang out, and you laughed—a broken, hysterical sound that was more sob than anything else.

"I'm so fucking useless," you whispered to yourself, the words barely audible over the thundering music. Tears streamed down your face, cutting perfect lines through your carefully applied makeup. "Nobody could ever really love me. Not Atsumu. Not anyone."

The streets of Tokyo blurred past, your Porsche cutting through the night like a silver blade of desperation. Every word from the fight replayed in your mind with merciless precision. Atsumu's accusations echoed like razor-sharp whispers, each one cutting deeper than the last.

"You don't even care about me anymore," his voice rang in your ears. "You'd rather show off for strangers than even try to make this work."

The music swelled, Travis Scott's voice a backdrop to your internal breakdown.

"I'm nothing," you muttered, your grip on the steering wheel so tight your knuckles turned white. "Just a pretty face. Just something to look at. Never enough to be truly loved." The words were a mantra of self-destruction, each one landing like a physical blow.

Your mind was a tempest of emotions—guilt, rage, self-hatred swirling together in a hurricane of pain. The city lights streaked past like watercolor brushstrokes, Tokyo's infamous neon landscape becoming an impressionistic canvas of blues, pinks, and electric whites.

You pushed the Porsche faster, as if speed could outrun the pain, could silence the voices in your head. The powerful engine roared beneath you, a mechanical beast responding to your emotional turmoil. At 180 kilometers per hour, the world outside became an indistinct smear, much like your sense of self—undefined, chaotic, on the verge of complete disintegration.

The irony of the lyrics wasn't lost on you. Ideas of worthlessness, of being unlovable, of being nothing more than a commodity—they filled your mind completely.

The intersection approached—a critical point of convergence that would change everything in a heartbeat.

The sharp, piercing sound of a car horn sliced through the music. A moment of stark clarity emerged, milliseconds stretching into an eternity. Your head turned, eyes widening as massive headlights barreled toward you, bright and unforgiving.

Travis Scott's voice was the last thing you heard.

The impact was sudden. Violent. Apocalyptic.

Metal screamed against metal, a cacophonous symphony of destruction that mixed with the final echoes of the song. Your Porsche—a machine engineered for precision and speed—was reduced to a crumpled sculpture of twisted metal and shattered dreams. The collision flung the car across the intersection with a force that defied physics, spinning and tumbling like a discarded thought.

And then, silence.

Smoke billowed from the crumpled hood, rising like a spectral mourner above the wreckage. The music cut off abruptly, leaving behind a ringing silence that seemed to echo your final, unspoken thoughts.

"Atsu…," you whispered, as darkness began to creep in.

The city continued its relentless pulse, indifferent to the personal tragedy that had just unfolded on its streets. Neon lights flickered, a final, distant reminder of a life that now seemed impossibly far away.

—

The phone's shrill ring cut through the silence of the penthouse. Atsumu, still frozen in the aftermath of your departure, instinctively reached for his mobile. The caller ID displayed the hospital's number—a sight that immediately sent a jolt of adrenaline through his system.

"Hello?," he answered, his voice raw from their earlier argument.

The words that followed would forever divide his life into two distinct periods: before and after this moment.

"Sakusa Kei Memorial Hospital," the voice said. "We're calling about a patient involved in a severe traffic collision. Are you the emergency contact for y/n?"

Time seemed to stop.

The next hours passed in a blur of sterile white corridors, the acrid smell of disinfectant, and the constant beeping of medical equipment. Atsumu's athletic composure—usually so precise, so controlled—completely dissolved. His hands shook as he filled out medical forms, his usually confident Osaka dialect reduced to fragmented, desperate whispers.

The hospital room was quieter than Atsumu had expected, save for the soft hum of machines monitoring your vitals. The sterile scent of disinfectant lingered in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of his fear as he stepped inside. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you, lying amidst a sea of white linens and medical equipment. The sight nearly brought him to his knees.

Your body looked so small, so fragile against the stark hospital bed. Bruises bloomed across your exposed skin like shadows of the argument that had led you here. A cast encased your left leg, another your arm, and your face was marred with small cuts and swelling that no makeup could disguise. But your eyes—their familiar light dimmed but not extinguished—opened slowly at the sound of his approach.

“Atsumu,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, a fragile thread that tugged at his heart.

He froze mid-step, his athletic frame tense, as though moving too quickly might shatter what little remained of you. Tears, warm and unwelcome, blurred his vision as he stumbled forward, his legs carrying him to your side.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out, his voice cracking under the weight of his guilt. His hand hovered over yours, afraid to touch, afraid of breaking you further. “God, I’m so sorry, darlin’. This is all my fault.”

You blinked slowly, the exhaustion from the accident and the aftermath evident in every line of your body. For a moment, you said nothing, letting his words settle into the quiet. Then, with more strength than he thought you could muster, you managed, “Don’t… do that.”

Atsumu’s brows furrowed in confusion, guilt momentarily eclipsed by the sharpness of your tone, fragile though it was. “Do what?” he asked softly, his voice a broken echo of its usual bravado.

“Don’t you dare make this about you,” you replied, your voice gaining a sliver of its familiar fire. “This isn’t your fault, Atsumu. I was the one driving. I was the one who left.”

The tears he had tried so hard to control now fell freely, streaking down his face as he shook his head vehemently. “But ya wouldn’t have been drivin’ like that if it weren’t for me,” he countered, his Osaka dialect thick with emotion. “If I hadn’t been such an idiot—if I hadn’t said those awful things—ya wouldn’t have been out there at all.”

You exhaled slowly, the weight of his guilt palpable in the room. “And if I’d listened to you instead of trying to win the argument… maybe I wouldn’t have stormed out,” you admitted, your tone soft but unwavering. “We were both wrong, Atsumu. Both of us.”

The admission seemed to strike him harder than any spike he’d ever taken on the court. For a moment, he simply stood there, staring at you as though you were some ethereal being he’d never quite been worthy of. Then, with a quiet exhale, he sank into the chair beside your bed, his head dropping into his hands.

“You scared the hell outta me,” he muttered, his voice muffled but no less raw. “I thought I lost ya. When they called me and said you’d been in a crash…” His voice cracked, and he lifted his head, his golden-brown eyes now rimmed red with unshed tears. “I’ve never been that scared in my life.”

You reached for him, wincing as your arm protested the movement. Despite the pain, you managed to place your uninjured hand over his. The contact was light, hesitant, but it was enough to anchor both of you. “I’m here, Atsumu,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the ache in your body. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, as though he was fighting against every emotion threatening to spill out. Slowly, his hand turned under yours, his fingers lacing through yours in a gesture that was both tender and desperate. “I’ve been such a damn fool,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on your intertwined hands. “I’ve been so caught up in everythin’—the games, the pressure, provin’ myself—that I forgot… I forgot what really matters.”

Your chest tightened at the vulnerability in his voice, at the sight of the man you loved stripped down to his very core. “You matter to me, Atsumu,” you said, your tone firm despite the weakness in your body. “But I need to matter to you, too. Not as an afterthought. Not as something you’ll get to when volleyball isn’t in the way.”

He nodded slowly, his grip on your hand tightening as though he was afraid to let go. “You do,” he said, his voice low but resolute. “You matter more than anythin’. More than volleyball, more than any championship, more than everythin’ I’ve ever worked for. I just… I didn’t know how to show ya that without feelin’ like I was givin’ somethin’ up. But I see it now. I see you now.”

A single tear escaped down your cheek, and you squeezed his hand gently. “Then show me, Atsumu,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper but carrying the weight of everything left unsaid. “Be here with me. Don’t just tell me—show me.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was heavy but not oppressive, a quiet understanding passing between you as the city lights outside cast shifting patterns on the walls. Finally, Atsumu leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your knuckles—a gesture so soft, so reverent, that it nearly undid you.

“I will,” he promised, his lips brushing against your skin with each word. “I’ll show ya. Every day, every damn moment. I’m gonna make this right, darlin’. I swear it.”

The weight of his words settled into your chest, warm and grounding.

The hospital room was still, the hum of machines and the distant sounds of the city your only company. But in that stillness, amidst the aftermath of chaos and pain, the first fragile threads of healing began to weave themselves through the fractures of your relationship.

For the first time in a long time, you believed him.

tag : @haechansbbg

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sexlapis · 1 year ago

Text

# a snowy morning .·

𝗓𝖹𝗓 🦌 ⎯⎯ &. ♥︎

❤︎ toji x gn!reader

sfw, fluff, christmas season, petnames (‘kid’, ‘sweetie’), playing in the snow, old man toji, he’s a tiny bit mean but … <3

wc: 1.9k

a/n: just wanted some toji winter fluff…<3 merry christmas everyone ᒄ₍⁽ˆ⁰ˆ⁾₎ᒃ♪♬

masterlists

toji awakens with a startle at your shout, shooting up and out of bed, swiping his handgun from his bedside drawer and stumbling to where you stand, looking out of the bedroom window.

life away from the city was all toji wanted, along with peace and quiet, which is why you and toji live just on the outskirts of the woods, where your only neighbours are the wild animals that roam the surrounding forest.

and toji likes it that way; no annoying neighbours, no noisy cars, no air pollution and clear, vibrant skies where you can actually see the fucking stars when you look up.

but with you around…peace and quiet are nothing but foreign concepts.

“toji, look!” you exclaim. “it’s snowing! it’s- toji put that away.” you frown at him, referring to his gun.

“what’s with all that yelling?” he grunts, lowering his weapon and instead unsafely using it to scratch his back.

“it’s snowing! it must’ve started when we slept!”

toji huffs, his heart slowing down a little in relief. “alright, let’s jus’-”

“it’s so deep too. and it looks so soft. i’m going outside!”

after your sporadic ramble, you’re flinging out of your pyjamas and into thicker, warmer clothes.

“it’s six in the morning.” toji deadpans, blinking away the sleep in his eyes and ruffled by you shocking him awake. “we can go outside later.”

you were always so spontaneous with your plans, he could hardly keep up with them.

“no! it could be melted by then,” you claim, throwing a large, cream-coloured sweater over your head, “put your clothes on, you're coming with me.”

“now why am i involved?” he asks, rhetorically of course, since he’s already heading to his wardrobe and picking out a black fleece along with a long sleeved shirt.

he should really stand his ground more, show you who’s in charge and who makes the rules around here. after all, it is his house.

but when you look at him so expectantly, hoping for him to agree, he knew that he would only comply with your wishes.

and you know that too.

“someone needs to help me build the snowman!”

minutes later, you’re skipping in the sparse forest behind the house, travelling through crunchy snow to the best of your abilities, leaving uneven footprints in your path as toji trails behind you, chiding you to slow down.

frosty, crisp air bites at your exposed face, sure to ache when you get back inside to the warmth. the wintry sky is painted in a pale periwinkle, cloudless and plain lest for the faded crescent moon that follows you on your merry way.

you leave the forest and you are welcomed to the wide, vast and picturesque landscape of the field you and toji commonly frequent. said field is completely blanketed in a white sheet of pure snow, going on for miles and miles, glittering in the morning glow.

“kid, what’d i say.” toji huffs, coming to stand beside you with a hand supporting his back, a little out of breath. “what a view, huh?”

“mhm!” you agree and then you’re plopping right down into the snow, repeatedly spread and closing your arms and legs, more strenuous than you expected, “come make a snow angel, toji! next to me. not too close though or you’ll mess mine up.”

toji sighs, mostly fond, breath leaving his nose and he clambers onto the snowy ground with his knees cracking, something you then proceed to make fun of him for and he flicks snow at you.

“toji, that got in my mouth!” you sputter and spit, glaring at a flailing toji who attempts to make a snow angel. his long, big limbs make the movement look heavy and odd, causing you to snort in his face.

“what’re you laughin’ at?” he grunts, his expression determined like he’s in a competition to make the greatest snow angel of all time. snow splatters all around him from his brash actions.

he looks so cute like this, you think. rosy cheeks, the sweet dimple on his left cheek that appears when he grins, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkled even more as he smiles and entertains you.

“okay, that’s enough!” you stand, brushing the snow away from your body, “get up. i wanna see what they look like.”

toji sticks his hand out, “‘right, help me up.”

“oh toji..” you mutter in faux annoyance before you clasp both of your gloved hands around his one, groaning with the struggle of lifting him up.

“i’m not that heavy, sweetie,” huffs toji, clapping his covered hands, causing snow to powder all around him, “okay, what’d you think?”

you both observe at the snow angels created by your bodies. they are…simply a mess and bundle of piled up mess, shapeless silhouettes dented into the snow, the size difference between them almost comical.

“…yeah it’s looks great ♡,” you smile, looking to toji who nods in agreement, clearly pleased with himself.

“okay! toji you make the body and i’ll do the head!” you call out to him from a distance after playing and prancing around in the know. you’ve already begun rolling out a small ball of firm snow along the ground.

meanwhile, toji’s snowball is already up to his knee. he shuffles and rolls his huge globe of snow around the field, leaving swirls and spirals in the sheet of snow behind him.

“how is yours so big already?!” you screech, glancing down at your pitiful snow ball, “we just started!”

“‘cos while i was getting down to business you were doin’ backflips in the fuckin’ snow.”

“hey!” beyond your better judgement, you launch the ball of snow right at toji, striking him square in the chest.

a quiet “ufff” leaves toji’s mouth and he peers at his once black winter coat that is now splattered in snow. then, he slowly raises his head back to you, a malicious glint in his eyes.

“ohhh, you really shouldn’t ‘a done that, kid…”

toji’s lifts what is supposed to be the body of the snowman and stalks towards you in swift strides. you scream, already on your feet and dashing away downhill, squealing and cackling as toji runs after you with the giant snowball in his arms, a sight that would be absurd to onlookers if there were any.

your foot slides off the floor and up into the air, landing on your back onto the pillow of snow, leaving you completely at toji’s mercy.

it took a mere four or five steps for him to keep up with you. quite sad on your part, really.

toji’s looms over you, a wicked grin on his lips as he holds the large snowball in his hands, “i hate to have ’ta do this but…”

“toji, please! have mercy-”

but your words fall on deaf ears. toji’s raises the vast ball of snow, creating a shadow over your vision, and your eyes are bulging, your stomach dropping slightly as he promptly drops the snow onto your awaiting body.

you gasp. luckily, your winter coat protected you from the bite of the snow, the clothing now caked with snow.

toji pats his hand for good measure right over your body, sprinkling snow on your face.

“how’s that, huh?” he smirks before noticing how you’re covering your face with the back of your hands, your shoulders shaking slightly.

shit.

“shit,” he crouched down and going to comfort you, thinking he took this game a little too far, “kid, you okay? ‘m sorry-”

a snowball is smashed into the side of his face.

“ha!” your giggles fill the bitter air and you shove him into the snow, jumping up and scurrying off, “got youuuuuuu!”

“oh, you fucking-” toji springs to his feet, shaking the snow his face, the area now red and flushed, “yeah, you better run!”

you and toji chase each other through the snow, launching snowballs at each other, noses rosy and cheeks aching from smiles and laughter, breaths heaving and hearts running as you both reveal in this newfound peace and joy.

playful, free and happy.

toji tackles you, cupping the back of your head as you fall to the ground softly.

he hovers over you. the hat that previously covered his head is long gone, most likely buried within the surrounding snow. his raven locks point in all directions and droplets of snow seasoned in his hair. tender, rounded eyes decorated with fluttering, thick lashes study you adoringly and you feel like hiding your face as your heart bursts in your chest.

you bite your lip and say, “i think i won.”

“yeah, sure you did.” toji rolls his eyes, shaking his head and kissing your nose, “c’mon, let’s go. it’s just gonna get colder, anyway.”

“i wanted to go ice skating on the lake, though…”

toji rises to his knees, lifting you up with him. he sweeps the snow from your hair and scans your body, his actions instinctual at this point, “yeah, yeah, we’ll go tomorrow, promise.”

you seem satisfied with his answer, allowing him to stand you up.

“i want a piggyback ride, please” you beam at him, and…toji is a weak man. only for you.

seconds later, he is letting you mount him like a horse and he begins the journey back to the cosy home you both created for yourselves.

toji’s large, strong stature makes you feel safe, protected. it always has. and with the smoothness of his steps, you find drifting off into a momentary rest against his broad shoulders.

the next time you come to, you’re on the couch of your living room, the fireplace crackling and illuminating the dim room. a fluffy, lengthy blanket protects you from the slight chill in the air which is also permeated with the scent of chocolate. you blink, licking your lips and yawning. you are by yourself, you note as you stretch and sit up on your knees.

shortly after that thought, toji walks in, holding two mugs of what you presume to be hot coco.

“hey, sweetie,” he coos, wishing to keep the quiet atmosphere, “got ya some hot coco,” he hands you the cup, placing his own on the coffee table and taking a seat right next to you, “‘fell asleep on the way back. musta been tired from waking up at ass ‘o clock, huh?”

you pout, gulping some of the chocolatey beverage which has your mouth hot and warming up your insides. you stick your tongue out at him, feeling too drowsy to even refute his snipe.

toji huffs, grinning softly. he licks his thumb and wipes the corner of your mouth to get rid of a chocolate stain.

“ugh, toji.” you grunt, “gross.”

“c’mon i've done worse than that.”

you grumble, sipping on your hot drink and ignoring his short chuckles.

he shifts closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “c’mere.”

toji is so big and so warm and so soft and just so tender. you’re dropping your mug next to toji’s and snuggling up right beside him, also wrapping your arms around his waist, your cheek pressed up against his firm chest. it’s the perfect fit and you’ve never felt so content.

“hmm..think i’m gonna fall asleep again…”

“that's alright, baby.” toji hums, kissing the top of your head and smoothing your hair down. he loved the feeling of you in his arms, it made him feel like the protector that he is at his core, something he’d forgotten so much about - the true nature of himself.

“go to sleep,” and you are already passed out, fast asleep on toji’s firm body. he nuzzles against the top of your head and closes his eyes, breathing you in and holding you close.

he can stay here, with you in his arms, far away from the rest of the world, forever.

a/n: have a very merry christmas everyone! please make sure to rest and stay healthy ^_^🎄💚❤️

#ily winter toji #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro fluff #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x you #fushiguro toji fluff #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x you #toji fluff #fushiguro fluff #f

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pickingupmymercedes · 9 months ago

Text

All these little things pt.2 - Lewis Hamilton

The other 9 snippets of fluff (as promised) - If you want here's the first batch - All these little things

Also there's 20 more fluffs just like these ones here - Ways to say I love you and Ways to say I love you pt. 2

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +3k

a/n: More fluffs, because we need it! Also, some of the prompts I used here were requests, so if you'd like a specific drabble do send them in and I'll put them in a potential new part?!

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Adventures

The crisp autumn air danced through Y/N's hair as she tossed a worn leather satchel into the back of Lewis's sleek car. A mischievous glint twinkled in her eyes as she turned to face him, holding a folded roadmap in her hand.

"Okay, champ" she declared, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Ready for an adventure?"

Lewis, not yet totally used to her spontaneous ideas, raised an eyebrow. " What kind of adventure?"

"The kind where you're in charge," Y/N announced, thrusting the map towards him. "Today, you're the navigator, and we're going wherever you point on this map."

Confusion flickered across Lewis's face. "No destination? You serious?"

"Absolutely serious," Y/N confirmed, her grin widening. "I drive, you tell where to. Consider it a chance to reconnect with your inner explorer."

Lewis chuckled, the challenge sparking a competitive glint in his eyes. "Alright. But don't blame me if we end up lost in the middle of nowhere."

With a playful swat at his arm, Y/N climbed into the driver’s seat. Lewis unfurled the map across his lap, his brow furrowing as he studied the intricate network of roads.

"Let's head for the mountains. Looks scenic." he announced, pointing at a winding route that snaked through a vibrant green patch on the map.

Lewis, tried to meticulously charted their course. Y/N, on the other hand, reveled in the unexpected detours – a charming roadside diner with a menu scribbled on a chalkboard, a hidden waterfall cascading down moss-covered rocks, a winding country road lined with vibrant yellow leaves.

They got lost, of course. Inevitably, they took a wrong turn, the map momentarily betraying them with its two-dimensional representation of a world full of surprises. But instead of frustration, a shared amusement filled the car. They stopped and asked for directions at a quaint gas station, the attendant drawing a squiggly line on their map with a permanent marker.

As the day wore on, he realized they weren't just exploring new places, they were rediscovering each other.

They talked about everything and nothing, their conversation flowing as effortlessly as the winding roads they traversed. Lewis, usually focused on the finish line, reveled in the simple joy of the journey. Y/N embraced the freedom of not knowing what lay ahead.

By the time the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the landscape, they found themselves at a secluded beach, the golden sand kissed by the retreating waves. They sat in comfortable silence on the hood of the car, watching the fiery hues paint the sky, a shared sense of accomplishment settling over them.

"So" Lewis finally spoke, his voice tinged with wonder, "lost or found?"

Y/N turned towards him, a smile gracing her lips. "A little bit of both," she replied. "We might not have known where we were going, but we definitely found something."

Lewis leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. The journey, with all its twists and turns, had been a reminder that sometimes, the most beautiful destinations were the ones discovered along the way.

Naptime Cuddles

The roar of the crowds had faded into a distant memory, replaced by the gentle hum of the air conditioner and the rhythmic rise and fall of Lewis' chest beside her. A street lamp illuminated the room in the late afternoon, painting dappled patterns across the plush white duvet. Y/n snuggled deeper into Lewis' embrace, the familiar scent of his bodywash a comforting balm.

The post-race adrenaline rush had finally subsided, leaving behind a pleasant exhaustion. The flight back from had been a blur of cramped airplane seats and fitful sleep. But in the quiet sanctuary of their home, true relaxation finally claimed her.

One of his arms was draped possessively across her waist, his fingers unconsciously tracing circles on the small of her back. The warmth of his body was a comforting weight against hers, a silent invitation to surrender to sleep.

Y/n shifted slightly, her head burrowing into the crook of his neck. A contented sigh escaped her lips, and she felt Lewis stir beside her.

"Still awake, love?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

Y/n hummed in response, nuzzling closer. The sound seemed to be all the answer Lewis needed. He wrapped his arm tighter around her, his breathing falling back into a steady rhythm.

Silence settled over the room once more, broken only by the soft sounds of their sleep. The weight of the trophy he'd secured earlier that day seemed insignificant compared to the quiet comfort of this moment. For Lewis, victory wasn't just about the checkered flag; it was about the moments of peace that followed, moments shared with those he loved, where he could simply be Lewis, and the world could wait.

As sleep finally claimed Y/n, a single thought drifted through her mind – this, the quiet intimacy of a shared nap after a hard-fought win, was a victory all its own.

Season Calendar

The crisp scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint aroma of toast as Y/N fumbled with the calendar sprawled across the kitchen island. Lewis, a gentle smile playing on his lips, watched her wrestle with colored pens and sticky notes.

"So, Australia's a definite yes" Y/N declared, highlighting the season opener in Melbourne with a flourish. "Suzuka, is my favorite" she added, etching a bright pink heart beside the Japanese Grand Prix. "Miami for the after-race parties."

Lewis chuckled. "Since when did you become a party animal?"

Y/N winked. "Don't underestimate the allure of a good poolside DJ after a long race weekend."

Their fingers brushed as she reached for a blue sticky note, marking their planned trip to New York just before Monaco. "Monaco it’s…well, it’s Monaco," she continued, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Maybe another European race before Silverstone?" Lewis suggested, tracing a finger across the calendar. "Spa or Monza?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment. "Hm… I’d say Monza. Oh, and Silverstone's too," she declared, scribbling her name beside the British Grand Prix. "Promise to your mom"

A grin spread across Lewis's face. "Right"

"Monza," she added after a thoughtful pause "because it's your first race in Italia, as a Ferrari driver."

Lewis's eyes softened. "It is."

She nodded, a mischievous glint returning soon after. "Singapore, too. Night race fix."

As she marked Interlagos in São Paulo with a heart even bigger than Suzuka's, a blush crept onto her cheeks as Lewis smiled at her antics. "It’s your second home race and that little beach vacation before Vegas is too tempting to resist."

Vegas, the season finale, received a quick tick with her name next to it.

"Abu Dhabi for the closing ceremony?" she mused, tapping the last race tentatively.

Lewis raised an eyebrow. "You're practically attending the entire season, love" he teased with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Y/N looked up, feigning innocence. "Am I? It doesn't seem like that many."

Lewis laughed, shaking his head. "Babe, you've mapped out nearly the whole calendar”

"Well, someone has to support you, champion," she replied, a playful jab disguised by a loving smile. "Plus, there's the cultural immersion, the delicious food, the..."

"The endless supply of post-race champagne?" he finished her sentence, a knowing grin on his face.

Y/N winked. "There might be some of that too."

Tough Race

The air in the motorhome hung heavy, a stark contrast to the usual pre-race buzz. Lewis sat slumped on the plush couch, his helmet resting dejectedly on the coffee table. The screen of his phone displayed the stark reality – a disappointing qualifying position and a car that no one understood.

Y/N watched him from across the room, her heart heavy with empathy. She knew Lewis thrived on competition, on pushing himself to the limit. Seeing him so dispirited was a sight that tugged at her soul.

Placing her laptop aside, she walked over to him. Without a word, she sat beside him on the couch, her hands instinctively reaching for his shoulders. He flinched slightly at the touch, as if startled from his introspection.

"Tough day, huh?" she asked softly, her voice barely a whisper.

He sighed; the sound heavy with disappointment. "Yeah," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze. "Just feels like everything's going wrong."

Y/N remained silent, allowing him to express his frustration without words. She knew that sometimes, the most comforting thing was a quiet presence, a silent acknowledgment of his struggle. After a moment, he lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. They held a vulnerability she rarely saw, a glimpse of the man beneath the champion's mask.

"Come here" she said gently, opening her arms for him to fall into. He leaned closer, his head resting on her chest. Instinctively, her fingers reached for his scalp, their gentle pressure working their way through his braids. It was a routine they'd developed over the years, a silent language of love and support.

As her fingers began a soothing massage, kneading away tension at the base of his skull, a soft sigh escaped Lewis's lips. His muscles, which had been coiled tight with frustration, started to relax under her touch.

"You have the talent, Lewis," she began, her voice barely louder than a whisper but filled with warmth "You have the dedication. This is just a bump in the road."

They sat in comfortable silence, the only sound the rhythmic hum of the motorhome and the gentle ministrations of her hands. Slowly, a spark of his usual fire began to return to his eyes.

"Next year can’t come soon enough" he finally murmured, his voice regaining its strength. "I’ll be the one in red waiting for you” her lips close to his ears, attesting to her loyalty to him.

Workouts

Sweat beaded on Y/N's forehead, blurring her vision slightly as she pounded the treadmill. The rhythmic thump of her feet echoed in the home gym, the only sound competing with the pulsing techno beat blasting through her headphones. She was lost in the zone, pushing herself further with each passing minute. Today's run was all about endurance, a long, slow burn to build her stamina.

Suddenly, a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She glanced over, momentarily breaking her focus, to see Lewis bent over a weight bench, curls glinting in the afternoon sun streaming through the window. He was shirtless, his muscles flexing with each controlled rep.

Y/N looked away, forcing her gaze back to the treadmill display. “Great”, she thought, cheeks burning. “Now you're distracted.” She tried to refocus on her breathing, on the rhythm of her run, but the image of Lewis, sculpted and confident, kept intruding on her thoughts.

A mischievous glint entered Lewis's eyes. He knew he had her attention, even if she wouldn't admit it. With a slow, deliberate movement, he placed the dumbbells down and reached for the hem of his workout shirt. A slow peel, a suggestive glance thrown in Y/N's direction, and the shirt landed discarded on the floor.

Y/N let out a groan of frustration, more with herself than anything else. This was supposed to be a focused workout, not a session in ogling her impossibly attractive boyfriend. She cranked up the volume on her headphones, willing herself to ignore the blatant display happening across the room.

But Lewis wasn't done yet. He sauntered closer to the treadmill, a playful grin on his face. "Need anything?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

Y/N gritted her teeth, refusing to make eye contact. "Nope, all good here" she mumbled, her voice strained.

Lewis chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "Alright, but if you do, I’ll be right here" he teased, leaning against the treadmill console, effectively blocking her view of the television and forcing her to acknowledge his presence.

Y/N glared at him, a flicker of amusement battling with her annoyance. "Seriously? I'm trying to work out here."

"And I'm trying to offer some motivation," he countered, his eyes twinkling. A small smile tugged at the corner of Y/N's lips. "Fine," she conceded, a playful challenge in her voice. "If you're so good at motivating, why don't you join me for a run?"

Lewis's grin widened. " Was just waiting for you to ask."

Grocery Shopping

Jet lag, like an unwelcome koala clinging to their luggage, had followed Y/N and Lewis all the way from Europe to Australia.

Yawns punctuated the silence as they stood in the brightly lit grocery store aisle, their usual meticulous list forgotten somewhere in their luggage.

"Alright," Lewis announced, rubbing his eyes "Essentials: Bread, milk, some fruit..."

Y/N's stomach rumbled loudly, betraying her fatigue. " chocolate… " she mumbled, grabbing the first bar her hand encountered, a garishly pink confection with a name that promised "explosive berry flavor".

Lewis chuckled. "Y/N, love. Maybe we prioritize some greens? " He reached for a bag of pre-washed salad mix.

"Fine." she conceded with a sigh, "But we're getting ice cream. My brain cells need a sugar rush."

He shook his head fondly, adding a carton of plant-based milk to the basket. "Alright, sugar monster."

Y/N scanned the shelves, her eyes landing on a display of colorful cocktail umbrellas. " Lewis" she said, her voice tinged with mischief "think these would look good on an Almave cocktail?"

Lewis raised an eyebrow as she shrugged, a playful smile on her lips. "Just planning ahead"

Alright" he conceded, tossing a pack of the umbrellas into the basket. " Healthy stuff now, babe. We need to get through the week"

Y/N groaned dramatically. "Ugh. Let me get some of those roasted chickpeas they have by the checkout, at least. They're practically healthy, right?"

Lewis laughed, pulling her close for a quick kiss as she reached for some sort of processed sugar. "Roasted chickpeas it is."

Weird dreams

Sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting golden stripes across the bedroom floor. Y/N stretched luxuriously, the remnants of a strange dream clinging to the edges of her consciousness.

"Lew" she mumbled, reaching for him on the other side of the bed. His side was cold, the sheets neatly pulled back. She sat up, a frown creasing her brow. "Lewis?" she called out a little louder.

He emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his hip, a face cream in his hand. "Morning, love" he greeted with a sleepy smile.

"Good morning" Y/N replied, her voice laced with a hint of confusion. "You were gone?" She gestured to the empty space beside her.

He paused, a puzzled look replacing his smile. "Gone? I haven't left the bed all night."

"Oh" Y/N said, feeling a wave of disorientation. "Must have been the dream then."

Lewis raised an eyebrow. " What kind of dream?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, the strangeness of it all making her smile. "Well," she began, "It was the weirdest thing. We were both at the factory, but you were giving a motivational speech... to a room full of chickens."

Lewis burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the room as he doubled over, wiping tears from his eyes.

Y/N couldn't help but join in his laughter, the absurdity of the dream washing away the lingering confusion. As they lay back down in bed, Lewis pulled her close, y/n laying her head on his chest.

"So," Lewis said, his voice tinged with amusement "what motivational speech did I give to the chickens?"

Y/N snuggled closer, a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh, you know, the usual," she said, her voice laced with laughter. "Conquer the coop, dream big, peck your way to the top."

Lewis chuckled, nuzzling his face into her hair. "Sounds like something I’d say"

Y/N swatted him playfully on the arm. "Hey, maybe even chickens need a little inspiration sometimes.” a smile playing on her lips and he squeezed her softly.

Sickness

A crumpled ball of tissues lay discarded beside Y/N on the couch, a relentless battle she'd been waging with a head cold all morning. Her throat felt like sandpaper, and her entire body ached with a dull misery. Across from her, Lewis, usually thinking of what to do next, sat slumped on the armchair, a mug of lukewarm tea clutched in his hand.

"Alright," Lewis declared, pushing himself up from the chair with a grimace, "I'm going to tackle those emails. You just relax on the couch some more."

Y/N croaked out a protest. "Lewis, you look like you could use the couch more than me. Those dark circle under your eyes look awful.

He swiped a hand across his forehead, a frown creasing his brow. "Nothing to worry, love. Probably just didn’t get enough sleep."

Y/N sighed, a weary smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Ever the workaholic, even a mild illness couldn't keep him from his commitments. "Alright" she conceded, her voice hoarse, "but promise me you'll rest too?”

He flashed a reassuring smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course, lovely." He retreated to his office, leaving Y/N alone with the sniffles and the blaring silence of the weekend they'd both been looking forward to.

She tried to sleep, to watch tv, to lose herself in a book, but her eyes burned in their sockets. Frustrated, she finally reached for the thermometer. The red mercury climbing far too high for comfort.

Panic clawed at her throat. Lewis couldn't be getting sick too, not with his packed schedule for the next two months. Steeling herself, she pushed off the couch and made her way to the office. Lewis sat hunched over his laptop, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Lew" she said softly, her voice thick with concern.

He looked up, startled. The feverish flush on his cheeks was undeniable now.

"What’s up babe?" he mumbled, his voice raspy

"You're burning up," she declared, placing a hand on his forehead. "We both are."

He let out a shaky sigh, finally acknowledging the truth. "This is the worst timing." he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Y/N hugged his shoulders from behind his desk chair, her heart softening at his dejection. "All we can do is focusing on getting better" she said gently.

Lewis turned to look at her, his eyes filled with a grateful vulnerability. "Yeah" he conceded, a tired smile gracing his lips. "Let’s go back to bed then, we're watching all the cheesy rom-coms we can handle.”

Y/N laughed a bit before suddenly turning her head to the side to sneeze, a chuckle coming from Lewis as he got up and embraced her. "Deal" she finally agreed.

Morning rituals

A faint sunlight danced playfully across the open space of the kitchen; Lewis’ heavy steps caught y/n attention as the aroma of brewing coffee gently invited him to greet the day. A soft groan escaped his lips as he stretched, muscles protesting.

"Rough night, champ?" A voice, laced with amusement, drifted in from the kitchen. Lewis cracked open an eye mid-stretch to see Y/n leaning against the island, a steaming mug in hand.

"Just a bit" he admitted, a smile tugging at his lips as he flopped down on the sofa "That car is giving me a real workout."

Y/n chuckled, padding across the room and placing the mug on the coffee table "Well, here’s some fuel." She leaned down, brushing a kiss across his forehead, the scent of her minty shampoo lingering in the air.

Lewis inhaled deeply, the familiar scent a welcome comfort. He reached out, his hand landing on hers. "You shouldn't have gotten up so early" he mumbled, squeezing her fingers gently.

"Nah" Y/n replied, settling onto his lap "Early mornings are my secret weapon. Peace and quiet before the world wakes up."

Lewis raised an eyebrow. "You mean to tell me Roscoe snoring and the fog outside are your weapons?"

Y/n laughed, caressing his beard. "It might not be perfect, but it’s mine."

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the soft clinking of mugs against the table’s glass. Lewis took a sip of his coffee, savoring the warmth that spread through him.

"So," Y/n began, a thoughtful look on her face as she slid to the sofa and rested her head on his shoulders "what's on the agenda for today?"

Lewis set down his mug. "Just some online meetings with the engineers in the afternoon. We can have a lazy morning if you’re not busy" his hopeful tone hung in the air for a beat too long.

Y/n took a slow sip from her mug, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Actually," she said, a playful smile tugging at the corner of her lips, "I woke up feeling surprisingly productive. Maybe I'll finally tackle that mountain of emails I've been putting off." A flicker of disappointment crossed Lewis' face, until he realized what y/n had actually just said, quickly stamping a playful smirk and a light grab of her ass. "The hell you are."

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