#squid game fics

[izzyfishie]

WE ARE WINNING!!!!!!!!!!!!

674 SANGIHUN FICS ON AO3 !!!!

[yenyu1s]

you drew stars around my scars.. kang sae-byeok x f!reader

written by @yenyu1s ( ˶˘ ³˘(⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆)

pairing(s) : kang sae-byeok x f!reader

contents : fluff/comfort, hint of angst, mentions of scars, insecurity, sae-byeok is very berry clingy!

synopsis : while kang sae-byeok slept peacefully, you couldn't help but admire your girlfriend. you couldn't resist the temptation to map out constellations on the freckles dusting her skin, tracing them like tiny galaxies only you can see.

lost in admiration, you didn't notice when she fluttered her eyes open. unbeknownst to you, she had been up the whole time.

as punishment she pulls you into bed trapping you in a lazy morning of warmth, whispered affections, and soft laughter, making you late for work.

wc : 1.29k

taglist : @saebyeokbliss @lunaryoongie @knfthxv @monkey4lifer @saebyeokiesworld @we1rdth0ughts @vigilxntesht @bitchybananaflower @wiltingconquest

(a/n) NOT PROOFREAD YET ACK! hope you all like this sweet little thing <3

a waterfall of golden light seeped through the cracks of the blinds, painting soft streaks across your apartment. it's warmth hummed throughout the tranquil, early-morning atmosphere.

you were the first to wake—a rare occasion. you shuffled in your spot, careful not to disturb the weight of your lover’s embrace, peacefully sleeping, you steadied your breathing, syncing it with the rise and fall of sae-byeok’s chest.

her arms were still swung over your waist, her full body weight trapping you. but you still managed to sit up, you reached for sae-byeok's cheek, the back of your hand caressed her cheek in attempt to try to wake her up.

nothing. she wouldn't budge. lost in the depths of slumber.

you quirked your eyebrows up in amusement, moving your hand to her tough upper arm, tracing over scars and softness alike.

you ran you hand up and down, but still, nothing. sae-byeok slept on, undisturbed, her face serene, the bed beneath her a haven.

you leaned closer to her face, your eyes meeting the tip of her freckled nose, the delicate arch of her cheekbones. what are you dreaming of? you thought to yourself.

the morning haze illuminated every detail of her face, casting a glow upon the constellation of freckles scattered across her skin. you had always adored them—tiny stars mapped across her cheeks, even when she saw them as imperfections. to you, they were stories left by the universe, the softest proof of her existence that you oh, so cherished.

your fingers were warm and slow as they instinctively trace the freckles scattered across sae-byeok's face—tiny constellations born beneath a softer sun.

each one is a map, a story untold, a secret the universe whispered onto their skin. fingertips hover, then dance lightly, following the curve of a cheek, the bridge of a nose, the corner of lips parted slightly in sleep. you traced the nebula on her cheek, planting a featherlight kiss on her warm skin.

before you could see the pink tint that crept up on her face, an idea blooms—a spark of mischief in your still-drowsy eyes.

you swiftly reached for the wooden bedside table on your side of the bed, retrieving the brown gel pen you had used to annotate last night's read.

your lips curled into a mischievous grin, you bit off the cap of the pen, letting it rest between your lips, another playful smirk curled up in the corners of your mouth.

the first mark is soft, barely a whisper of chocolate ink against skin, circling a freckle near the brow, then another, and another.

you let the pen skate at sae-byeok's skin connecting the moles in her face with each other, a dotted line along the cheekbones, a connection from the nose to the jaw. you stifled a laugh, proud at the mapped out constellations you made, celestial patterns of love, traced and claimed in quiet ink.

your eyes trailed to her muscular upper arm, your eyes softening at the scars that whispered her dark past, tracing the faded scars etched into her skin with your eyes—silent remnants of a past she rarely spoke of, a past she tried so desperately to forget. each mark held a story, whispered in shadows and sleepless nights.

with each delicate stroke, you covered her pain in stardust, doodling tiny little stars, letting ink bloom where wounds once lingered. the tiny stars connected, softening the echoes of old nightmares, replacing them with something new—something gentle.

but before you could admire your handiwork further, warmth enveloped you as sae-byeok suddenly pulled you close, her arms tightening around your frame in a firm grip. a lazy smirk played on her lips as your face was pressed into the familiar rise and fall of her chest.

your face scrunched in confusion since just a second ago, her breathing was still steady, still lost in sleep. you lifted your chin to see her face, she was giggling to herself, her voice low and sultry.

your confused squirming only made her chuckle—low and husky, the sound vibrating against your cheek.

"am i your art project now?" sae-byeok murmured, voice hoarse and thick with sleep.

you twirled the pen between your fingers, complaining "were you awake this whole time?"

she casually shrugged, your pouty face made her giggles turn into fits of laughter. "you looked so serious, it was hilarious! i was trying to hold in my laugh, i just couldn't!"

your stubborn exterior finally melted at the rare sight of sae-byeok laughing, thoroughly enjoying herself teasing you, you joined in on the warm laughter, quiet and playful, in the kind of tenderness that lingers long after morning fades.

"thank you, for this." sae-byeok slurred, her voice thick with drowsiness, her eyes narrowed at the ink that was tatted on her arm, earning a shy giggle from you, resting your chin on her shoulders.

she let you hold her a little closer, her body melting into your warmth.

you continued mapping out stars on her face when your house cat, fang, suddenly ambushed the sweet moment by jumping on the bed, pawing at the both of you, weaving between tangled limbs and soft sheets, demanding attention.

you both had adopted the stray cat when you had bought your first shared apartment together, sae-byeok knew how much you loved them and it took her a long time to get used to fang, now she treats him as if it was your child.

"good morning fang." you purred, loosening your grip on the pen to softly pet your beloved cat, your nails scratched at his chin. you planted a soft kiss on top of his tuxedo fur.

you averted your gaze to your lover who was still sprawled beneath you, her expression unreadable as she watched the fuzzy intruder steal your attention. leaning down, you pressed a lingering kiss against her lips, stealing back her focus. she gasped slightly before melting into your touch, her arms instinctively tightening around you.

"i'm going to be late for work. i'll see you later okay?" you murmured into the crook of her neck. before lifting yourself up.

sae-byeok's grip on you tightened, a silent demand to not go. to spend the day with her, she'd take a day off from her awful barista job just to be with you.

"i'll be back before you know it." you whispered sweetly in her ear, your lips locked as sae-byeok planted a longer kiss this time, warm and full of love, a sign of goodbye.

you hummed into the kiss, as much as you wanted to, you had to go to work or else you'd be scolded by your seniors again! you wouldn't want a bad rep in your workplace..

a long sigh errupted from your short-haired girlfriend, but before she could protest further, you slipped out of bed, leaving her and fang curled together in your absence.

as soon as you left, cheol skipped out from his room, stretching his arms out and yawning, satisfied with a good night's sleep.

he passed by the door of your shared bedroom, he took a double take at a downcast sae-byeok, picking herself up to get ready for the day, wandering off to whatever side of the city she would go to before even heading to work.

cheol raised his eyebrow up at the sight of sae-byeok's decorated face, he took in the celestial doodles still marking her skin.

his soft raspy morning voice called out from the hallway, making sae-byeok jolt awake from her half-asleep state, "what's wrong with your face, noona?"

sae-byeok shot his short frame a glare, her lips pursed together, mumbling, "none of your business."

despite her feigned irritation at cheol's innocent question, a smile lingered at the corners of her lips—a quiet, unspoken testament to the warmth left behind by the morning, by you.

[dgaftilwedie]

in the darkness, it's just us (namgyu x reader)

the poll that i did was basically unanimous so i guess im posting my fics on here too!! here's my most recent namgyu fic... my baby... my magnum opus... this fic is already up on my ao3 (@kittieglitter if you feel inclined to follow it)!! also im posting this on mobile so please excuse the potential formatting issues 😭

contains: 18+ content (minors dni, duh doy), afab reader but no pronouns are used so interpret this however you wanna!!! lots of biting, getting freaky deaky during lights out, domgyu 🤤🤤, semi-public sex, a lot of dirty talk, and namgyu being kind of a sweetheart :3

Namgyu's nails were digging into your waist, his other hand clamped around your mouth to keep you quiet. His face was buried in the crook of your neck and his mouth was working wonders up it. Purple splotches were scattered on your neck as his teeth gnawed on the skin. Your pants were at your ankles and your face was pressed up against the corner of the wall, the coolness conflicting with the heat on your face.

“Taking me so good, fuckin’ whore,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to another fresh hickey. His cock was buried deep inside of you. He fucked into you hard; he was trying to make you break, let everyone know what was going on.

The chaos behind you was hard to ignore. The lights flickered on and off, and it was impossible the block out the screaming and shouting of everyone else. If it wasn't for the fact that Namgyu was armed, you'd be terrified someone was going to attack you. Instead, you were eating up his attention. The way he whimpered into your ear, the way his lips were glued to your neck, the way his dick was hitting your spot so fucking perfectly… Your legs were shaking. All your noises were muffled by Namgyu's hand, which was slowly slipping down your face and towards your neck. He peeled his lips off of your skin for just a moment, replacing them with his hand.

“Gonna keep being a good slut for me, yeah?” His hand ran down your neck, over your collar bones, and then dipped down, making its way up your shirt. It rested on the other side of your waist, nails finding the softest spots to dent your flesh. You bit your lip and nodded, letting the tiniest whimper escape your mouth. Namgyu chuckled before sinking his teeth back into your neck and continuing to paint the surface with blue and purple marks.

“So fucking wet, holy shit…” He let out a soft groan, blowing cool air onto your neck. “You like it when I’m mean, don’t you?”

You tried to mumble out a response, but it came out as a moan. A loud one. You could hear Namgyu let out a laugh as you slapped a hand over your lips. Unfortunately, you did like when he was mean. You got off on the way he spoke to you. His cock abused your insides like you were nothing but a sex toy to him, but the way he spoke to you was what ruined you. His words sent shocks of sweet, hot electricity coursing through your body. This wasn’t the first time his douchebaggery got you pinned to a wall with his dick inside of you, and you were certainly hoping it wouldn’t be the last.

Before the games, Namgyu would take you to the club he worked for. He’d watch you mingle with guests and proudly eye-fuck you the whole time. You’d eventually make your way back to him and he’d crack jokes about the people you were talking to. He’d drag you to a private room, gossiping with you about the people he’d met or worked with. In a drunken ramble, you admitted to him that it turned you on to think about him talking about you the way he talked about other people. You could see it in the way his eyes had lit up; it was like a switch had flipped in his brain. Every time you hooked up after that, he’d flood your ears with the nastiest things he could think of only to tease you for the fact that you were dripping fucking wet.

“Come on, slut. Use your words. Tell me you’re my cock-drunk little whore and I’ll let you cum.” Namgyu hummed into your ear, his voice a little more than a whisper and his hands squeezing your waist tight. He laughed at the squeak you let out as he dug his nails even deeper into your flesh. You used all the strength you had left to take your hand off of your mouth, planting it into the wall for some stability. Your other hand was gripping onto one of Namgyu’s arms.The lights behind you were still flickering, and you could still hear the screams, but in your head, you and Namgyu were in your own little world. You felt Namgyu’s hand slip down your waist, fingers resting on your clit. It took everything in you to not scream as his fingers drew slow, deliberate circles on the swollen bud.

“Fuck, Nam-” You started, only to cut yourself off with an exasperated groan. Your head dropped backwards, resting on Namgyu’s shoulder. “Yours… I’m all yours…” You mumbled, words slurring together from the pleasure.

“Words, slut. Tell me how good I feel in your cunt.”

You were pretty sure half of Namgyu’s degrading comments were just to help him get off. You didn’t care, though. Feeding his ego was one of your favorite things to do. You were his favorite things to do. It was a nice little exchange the two of you had.

“Feels like I was made to take you,” you stuttered through shaky breaths. You were getting close, and so was he. Namgyu’s thrusts became more sporadic.

“Had to break you in before someone else did,” he groaned, head buried in the crook of your neck.

“Such a slut for you, fuck,” you whispered, practically panting. “Nothin’ but a whore for you cock.”

“Fuck, that’s it.” There was a faint lilt to Namgyu’s voice as his fingers sped up their movements. His other hand left your waist and pinned you closer to the wall, his thrusts become rougher and more irregular. “Can I?”

His voice was faint, a quiet request. You nodded almost violently. Namgyu let out a small chuckle as he felt your walls tighten around him. All of a sudden, you were thrown into the midst of one of the strongest orgasms you’d had in your life. You buried your face into your elbow to stifle the pathetic moans escaping your lips. Your legs shook as waves of burning pleasure coursed through your body. If someone hadn’t realized what was happening between the two of you sooner, they definitely would’ve realized now.

Namgyu’s orgasm followed in suit - you could tell by the way his teeth clamped down on your neck again. A soft whimper left his lips as he buried his cock as deep inside of you as it would go. He was whispering something into your skin but you couldn’t tell what he was saying. His breaths were uneven as he pulled out, hands pressing against the wall to hold himself up. You could feel his cum leaking down your legs as you tried to catch your breath.

“Gonna get you cleaned up when this shit show’s over…” Namgyu hummed, leaning into your body and pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to your cheek. “Always so fuckin’ good for me.”

You let out a soft, tired chuckle, resting your forehead against the wall. “My bed tonight?”

Namgyu nodded against the back of your head. “Your bed.”

As the chaos continued behind to two of you, you quickly wiped off Namgyu's cum with some rando's pillow case, chucking into beneath the bunkbeds. You’d run to the bathroom a little later. Namgyu would insist on coming just to make sure you didn’t get hurt. The two of you made yourselves semi-presentable, aside from the panting and the disheveled hair and red faces. You rested back against the wall and slid down it, eyes falling shut. Namgyu plopped himself down next to you and threw his arm over your shoulder, pulling you in close to him. A comfortable silence settled between the both of you.

“Was that too much?” Namgyu asked softly, breaking the silence with an uncharacteristic tenderness. You shook your head “no”.

“Good.” He pressed his lips to your forehead and rubbed his thumb over your shoulder, letting you rest as the chaos finally came to an end with a loud gunshot.

[one-lucky-day]

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.One of these things is not like the others♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

[mel0di1]

#; Introduction ! ! !

Melodii or Melon. She/They. Aphrodite devotee.

Interact ; LGBTQ, Squid Game enjoyers, Artists, Fanfic enjoyers/writers, Music enthusiasts, OC x Canon

Thin ice ; Toxic fans, Chronically online, NSFW jokes

Do not interact ; Anti-LGBTQ, Proshippers, Over sexualisation, Racists, Albeists, Zoophiles, Pedophiles

Melo here! I'm lowkey just here because I really need to yap about my fanfic and squid game to people who will listen! I'm a fairly new writer but I adore making stories in my head >< ! ! The place I post all my fics on is @ mel0nnnnnnnnn on wattpad. I will mainly focus on my main fic on there, The winner takes it all; The loser has to fall ! ! I really hope you enjoy my rambles <3

[harrysweasleys]

the way i have been crazy hyperfixating on squid game lately and im debating coming out of writing retirement to write for the characters…

[pencsong]

Hey Tumblr! I’m coming over from AO3: author of Until the World Changes (457) and The Sun, the Moon, and the Stars (sangihun + 457). Just here to hang out and chat. My asks are always open!

[sexwithstilinskiandhale]

Netflix gave us the old man yaoi we never knew we needed.

[muntitled]

Tic-Tac-Toe

Pairing: The Salesman x Fem!reader

Summary: Every Wednesday your schedule consisted of attending classes during the day, and satisfying the needs of a sadist through the night.

Warning: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Violence, Kidnapping, Isolation, SociallyAnxious!Reader, Blindfolds, Stalking, Knives, Blood, Gore, Stockholm Syndrome, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Insertion, Fingering, Rough Sex, Erotophonophilia, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Dacryphillia, Sadomasochism, Gunplay, Deepthroating, Breeding Kink, Unprotected sex

A/N: Hell is empty

4k Words

You're strapped in a chair, like always, and you are blindfolded because he doesn't trust easily.

It's terribly annoying.

At any point of during and after your little 'arrangement' you could have called the cops. Doesn't he understand that?

Every Wednesday, you're taken from the warmth of your apartment, and you're delivered right back at 00:00 on the dot, every Thursday with barely an inch of life left in your bones. You'd either always come back wet, with semen sliding between your thighs, or with mysterious marks- old and new- crawling underneath your sweater. Whatever mood he was in, he'd always leave you feeling sore.

It should have bothered you.

The thought of seeing this large, domineering shadow-in-a-suit every Wednesday should not overwhelm you with all these feelings of excitement. Instead, you should do like all the mentally ill girls do and just get some fucking help.

But you want him to trust you, for some reason.

Which was utterly ridiculous considering the fact that to him, you were something akin to a porcelain wind up toy for his amusement. You had no business requesting he remove the blindfold aspect but still, you asked anyway. Toy's couldn't be trusted, could they?

"I'd really appreciate it if I didn't have to wear one of these everytime I visit your place." He removes the blindfold, and in a second, your vision is filled with nothing but him. One moment you were in the cozy warmth of your dorm room. Curled up on the couch while your roommate spends her youth effectively- out with boyfriends and friends and everything you didn't have. You answered the front door when you heard his special knock, like you always do. You walked with him to the cab. You let him put on the blindfold. You said 'I'm fine’ when the taxi driver got a little too nosy and you let him lead you away from your boring life.

If only for a few hours.

You'd let him do whatever he wanted for those few hours because such surrender was almost sacred. You forfeited your safety in his hands, to do with it whatever he pleased and in that, you found rest. Whatever happens, happens.

Forget this room- what was essentially his personal dungeon, windowless, red and boasting various torture objects- your eyes are only on him.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't feel the need to kidnap me anymore? We do this every Wednesday," You become more childish around him and he lets you. Like you forgot you are a fully autonomous university student. There was power in that too. "Surely we've established some sort of trust?” He doesn't respond to you immediately. You crane your head up at him, hungry to lock eyes with his cold, empty slits that enchanted you body and soul.

You are in love with him, perhaps.

That's a logical response isn't it?

You laugh almost.

Listening to yourself try to rationalize your fondness for such a horrible man.

Said horrible man is silent. All you hear is the clicking of his dress shoes as he moves to the leather seat directly across from yours. Your eyes scan over all his movements.

The right corner of his lip quirks up. A small coffee table creates the only distance between you and he bends over to pour you both a generous glass of Brandy on the rocks. You don't drink it. Ever since he's been bringing you here, you never do. He knows this, yet still he pours.

"This relationship isn't about trust." He says finally. Something inside you, that is perhaps a little broken, actually purrs at the sound of his voice. You're hyperaware of your thighs squeezing together on the leather seat. They're spilling out of the sundress you purposely wore today.

Lots of your clothes were for the function of comfort. Your body was full and curvy and not always something to be advertised, unless you wished it to. Tonight, you wanted to show off as much as possible.

A thick leather band is keeping both your wrists locked to the armrests, while he sits back, free and so irrevocably in charge it should scare you. It should. But the sick and incredibly deranged thing is that it doesn't.

Outside, the rain is beating down on whatever building you're in, casting a thick veneer of grey all across the city.

But inside this velvet room... your heart is hammering inside its cage as you watch him undo the buttons of his crisp suit. A black one today. Jet black like his hair.

Although-

"You've got more grey in your hair than last week." You can't help but say.

He tilts his head in inquisition. "Are you insulting me or complimenting me?"

"I'll leave that up to you to decide," you shrug your shoulders as much as you can under these limited restraints. At least he hasn't restrained your ankles this time. Progress. "In here, you're the boss. Right?"

He takes a sip of his drink until finally, you've finally locked eyes. Your bare toes curl and your back arches slightly as you sit a bit straighter in your seat. Like you're in a lecture hall, although he is far more interesting than any of your professors.

"I'm not as young as I used to be," he finally says as he takes one more sip of his drink before bringing his briefcase onto the coffee table. Its presence is ominous and so horribly loud for an inanimate object. It kickstarts all your dormant nerves, revving up all the rest of your senses that have yet to catch up to the fact that you were facing the man of both your desires and nightmares once again.

"Who have you told about our arrangement?" The question causes you to roll your eyes. He watches the petulant movement with that same, silent smile and blank eyes. He unclicks the briefcase. Your stomach lurches and your thighs squeeze together. Pavlov's dog.

"Every time you ask me-" an object clinks onto the table. A butcher knife.

You try to pull your eyes away from the objects he's placing on the table, one by one. "Everytime you ask me if I've told anyone about our arrangement-" another object. A wooden spoon beside the knife. "Everytime I tell you the same thing."

Your throat closes when he uncovers a dildo. Bright pink and fucking menacing. "Carry on talking." He says, snapping your gaze away from the objects lining the table.

"I don't have any friends." Your voice is wobblier. You try to deny the sight of the rabbit vibrator, "It's the reason you picked me." You clear your throat as you hoped to clear all the nerves beginning to fog your mind. "Someone could've followed me here. B-But I don't really know anyone enough to care." The final object that clunks onto the glass coffee table and this time, you're unable to look away.

"Are we ready to begin?"

The metal revolver laying quiet and undisturbed beside the rabbit vibrator makes everything else on the table look like children's toys. Even the butcher knife.

You pull at the restraints, your legs quivering slightly as you shift and writhe in the seat. He studies you as closely as you were once studying him. You can see the excitement begin to flood his eyes at the physical manifestation of your discomfort.

"Now you're getting it." He nods sardonically, taking another sip from his glass before placing the briefcase on the floor beside him. "You were a little too happy to see me," he joked, letting out an airy exhale of laughter.

"You wanna hazard a guess as to what we'll be playing today?" He's smiling, genuinely. With that look in his eyes you can tell he's hovering in the clouds. Meanwhile you've begun to feel real fear. No matter how regular these visits might become you'd never get used to him. It's impossible. Not when he found new and daring ways to torture and pleasure you every single week. You couldn't get used to something as brash and unconventional as him. Like the conditions of a child in a broken home, he kept his tactics inconsistent so that every week is a new hell or perhaps- depending on his mood- heaven.

"If I guess wrong?" You swallow thickly and something dark in him settles. He spreads his legs more, there's a twitch inside his lips before he smiles again.

"Well, guessing isn't the game, so you'll be fine."

You nod your head... assessing the objects. There's menacing objects and household objects. Even just looking at them you can tell what they all have in common.

"Am I going to have to insert-"

"You're not guessing." His voice booms. He rests his elbow on the armrests, his hands corded with veins seem itching to do something, you're not sure what. "I said guess." He commands.

"Hide and seek?"

He snickers, "A favourite-"

"More like your favourite." You snip back, "I couldn't sit down the whole week." You frown at the memory. That week he'd brought you to an abandoned warehouse, letting you run the entire perimeter full.

"It's in your best interest to keep coming to our sessions-" he reminds you, snapping you back into the present.

"You're paying my university fees, I'm not complaining." You nod, before plastering a thin smile on your face, "All I have to do every week is prostitute myself to a literal sadist-"

"Have you given up on guessing today's game?" He didn't like you making him hyper aware of the fact that this dynamic, whatever it is, is considered objectively bad. And so you're not surprised when he swiftly moves past the topic.

He leans forward. His large hand disappears under his chair before uncovering a small whiteboard. Four lines- 2 horizontals are running across 2 verticals, creating 9 blocks. He stands up, while your eye is still focusing on the board. From your point of view it sits underneath the row of objects on the table. You don't even realize your right wrist strap is being untied.

"Colour?" He asks, pushing a crate of whiteboard markers towards you. With your now free hand you pick the pink one.

He snickers. "Predictable." He whispers before placing a large, domineering hand on your head. He presses down your braids, patting you like a stray he's rescued from the cold. You stare aimlessly ahead, fearing you won't be able to contain everything you've begun to feel for him if you lock eyes now.

"We're playing tic-tac-toe," he relents. His hand lingers on your head a bit longer before he's stepping away.

"With a twist, I presume?"

"Clever girl," he nods, walking back to his seat. "So you're aware of the objects."

"Place a gun in front of a girl and she's going to notice."

"Paranoid girl." He tsks before leaning forward.

"You want to start or should I?"

"Wait-" you swallow, "What happens if I win?"

He smiles that dazzling, debonair smile.

"You pick which one goes inside you."

Lightning cracks across the sky. A chorus of thunder roars all at once like some kind of phenomenon and your lips stutter open.

"Th-That's insane I-"

"I shouldn't have to remind you that you came here out of your own volition. "

"What happens if you win?"

"Then I choose." He says.

Your eyes skate over the object. It doesn't take an ivy league graduate to hazard a guess as to which of the objects he's itching to stick inside you.

"There's a fucking knife here-" You're trembling. Tears are pooling in your eyes. It doesn't even matter that you're a somewhat decent tic tac toe player. It doesn't matter that you're confident in this game. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.

"And there's also a spoon," he nods, neutrally, "And a vibrator, and a dildo. Etcetera. Etcetera." He leans forward, unclicking his whiteboard pen, "your words are just words, Darling. You're just listing things. Start," he says, with a deadly lilt in his voice. "Or I will."

You scramble to uncap your marker with one hand, all while he watches with dead and black eyes. You knew that whoever starts the game was placed at a big advantage and so you're nearly scrambling to place that dignified X in the center block.

"Clever girl." He says once again, drawing his blue 'O' directly beside your pink 'X'. You aim for the block above him. He blocks it. You aim for the block beside the center. He blocks that too.

Your victory comes too quickly. You barely feel it as you strike a line vertically through the blocks. 3 X's.

Relief washes over you but it's overcast with doubt. Like you're celebrating in trepidation as you watch him stand up.

"Congratulations! Which do you choose?"

"I can pick anything?" You ask, staring up at him, bright eyes wild with the adrenaline that comes with wanting to preserve your organs.

"Anything you want, my little winner."

You begin to lean over. His eyebrows quirk up when you wrap a small hand around his wrist.

"I pick that." You say breathlessly. Your eyes zeroed in on his hands at his side. And you watch as he walks towards you, as if compelled by an unforeseen force. His palms are calloused underneath yours and you blow out several unstable breaths as he stands above you. So imposing it's breathtaking.

"You sure?" It's the way he asks it that has you second guessing. And perhaps he sees the caution seeping into your eyes because there's excitement lurking in his. Before you're even able to formulate a response, his hand is locked tightly around your esophagus, vacuuming all pathways shut until you're writhing for air.

"A fine, fine choice," He's becoming more and more riled up the more you writhe in your seat, trying to scrounge for a single breath of air. He doesn't let you. Instead he moves behind you, before leaning down.

If you could breathe, you would shiver at the feeling of his lips behind your ear. "Here we go-" he whispers, before reaching around your torso with his free hand before forcing your legs open. The second he lets his three digits stab into your cunt, he uncurls the grip on your throat as you make a horrid sound somewhere between a moan, a scream, and a haggard gasp. "FUCK- Sl-Slowdown-" you knew better than to request something like that. All you hear is a snicker from behind you as pain blossoms all across your nether regions. He's not gentle. He's not kind. He doesn't allow you to adjust to his fingers before he's scissoring them inside you, causing a blood-curdling scream to rip itself out of your throat. Your back is arched and you're trying to get away from him but the fucking persists.

"You've been wet like this for me the entire time?" He sounds absolutely demented, behind you, "You wanted this didn't you?" He bites at your ear as the first tears begin to pool at your eyes, "My little winner."

"P-Please stop-" His fingers are restless inside you. Curling and uncurling. Scissoring and stabbing as if wanting to open you up and split you all the way in half.

"What a pretty little pussy, huh? Look at what a mess you're making."

"When-" you can't form words. "When- Stop?" It's all you're able to say as your nails dig into the material of his suit.

"The sooner you cum the sooner it stops."

You doubted your ability to cum under these circumstances. He's setting an ungodly pace and it's all so hurried and in a frenzy, it's like your brain does not have time to understand if you even like what's currently being done to you.

"What- Do you want you want my help?" you begin to shake your head. "I'll help you, baby-"

His other hand reaches over and pinches your clit.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm is quite literally forced out of you. Your hips writhe and your ass tries to leave the seat as the first feelings of pleasure rip through you by force. "That's it, Clever girl," he coos, still curling his fingers inside you, "That's my Clever girl." He says once more before stilling his movements. For a second you just sit there, trying to collect your breath while he's still inside you. All at once, his hands are removed from your body.

He grabs a handkerchief from his breast pocket and you watch him clinically wipe his hands before erasing the marks on the board with the same cloth. A very clear boner pushes against his black slacks yet still his face is calm.

"Alright, My turn to start-"

"WHAT!? B-But I won." You scream, absolutely seething with desperation.

"You know everyone who plays 'X' has a significantly higher chance at winning-" You say with your eyes narrowed. He nods.

"And you know that too, which means we each should be granted alternating times to play ‘X’. Regardless if you won or not." You slump in your seat, suddenly far too aware that your bare cunt is exposed.

"Don't mope." He says, "It's not cute." Before drawing his 'X' in the center.

You close your legs, sitting upright with a new zeal of self preservation as you grab ahold of your marker.

You draw your pink 'O' underneath his.

You both play many more rounds. All ending in ties. This is how you play- with a frazzled grip and closed legs. A shiver every now and then overcomes you with the gravity of your aftershocks. His snickers bring your eyes up to his. He speaks as he makes his move.

"You're so focused on blocking," he sighs, "You're not even trying to win anymore-"

"I'm not letting you stick a knife in my cunt." You nod in finality before blocking another move.

"Not even if I say please?" He asks, making a faux pout.

"Fuck off."

"In that case, I have to win."

Your heart kickstarts as he pushes his pen to the board. Images flash across your mind. Blood splattered across his gorgeous face. Your blood as he fucks the sharp end of a knife inside you. You nearly vomit while he speaks. “Easy as-" you block him.

"Tic-" you block him again.

"Tac-" you block him some more

"Toe- I Win."

A victory that somehow escaped your vision. He strikes a line diagonally through the squares and your stomach sinks. He stares at you from across the room. His eyes so deeply satisfied you can feel it radiating off of him in waves.

You lower your teeth to the other restraint, violently trying to free your left wrist from its oppressive hold. And you watch as the devil slowly rises.

Your heart aches. Your brain is sent into complete alarm as your flight or fight kicks in and your sympathetic nervous system fires.

"Now, which one would look pretty inside you?" He drags his fingers along the objects, undoubtedly an act of taunting. You stomp your feet on the ground. You try to push the chair underneath you but it's plastered to the floor.

"Please!" Tears are running thickly. They cloud your vision. You don't even see the way his smile falls enough for him to rub over the bulge in his slacks.

"Fuck," he says gravelly as he relents and picks up the gun. "You're so fucking pretty when you're scared out of your fucking mind. You know that?"

You shake your head as he nears, wondering if this might really be the end. Has your body become too worn out by his games? Has the time for him to discard his toy finally dawned on you both? Is he all grown up with no need for such things as toys?

"PLEASE-NO-"

"Open your mouth." He's standing in front of you, your head directly in front of his raging bulge.

You shake your head, trying to move away but he rips your face towards him. "Listening to me is the only choice you have to make it out alive, Baby. You wanna live, don't you?" He's nothing but a tall figure, with the overhead lights shining around his head like a halo. Your face right by his bulge.

"Little girl needs to go to school." He nods, eyes fluttering shut, "She needs to complete her studies and get a good job so she wouldn't have to meet with scary men like me- Fuck-" it riled him up to no end to have you scared of him. You suppose it triggered a part of him that craved attention. He needed to feel like he existed and if that was reeped from fear then so be it.

"Stick the barrel in your mouth," the bottom of his hand coaxed open your jaw, and, as if on autopilot, you listen. Perhaps there is a way out of this. Perhaps you should just listen.

"That's it... Fuck," he brings your free hand up to rub his erection "That's it, Baby, stick it inside your mouth." Cold metal hits your lower teeth, "Stick it in like you would a cock." He says, looking down at you intently as your tongue unfurls and you suck the barrel in. "Shit-" he places his other hand on the back of your head before forcing you to take the gun deeper down your throat. He's trembling. Far too badly. And so is his finger on the trigger.

"Fuck, you're such a fucking whore, you know that?"

You're gagging and flailing around the barrel, saliva slides down.

So desperate to please him.

In your hast you don't even realize your left hand that had been restrained is now free. Your eyes are closed.

Please him.

Just please him and you'll live.

"That's my brainless girl..." he praises and that rouses something in you. It has your hips bucking against nothing.

"Such a stupid girl..." he continues, "You're gonna ride me, aren't you? You're gonna fuck me so good-" You're not about to tell him that sex wasn't supposed to be apart of this game. You're not stupid.

You faintly hear the sound of a belt unlooping. A zipper siding down. "You're making me so happy, baby." He admits before effortlessly lifting you from the chair until you're straddling him.

You're free.

When did that happen?

"F-Fuck, I need you to ride me." His head is leaning back against the chair. His tie hangs messily from his shirt that has two buttons undone.

You're free.

"Don't try anything," he warns, as he lifts you enough to pull his cock out of his pants. "Matter of fact. Keep it in your mouth while you ride me-" He slams you down onto his cock the very second those words leave his mouth. He's fucking into you with recklessness and fury and violence. His hair falls in his face but the gun is too heavy, without a hand there, it nearly slips from your mouth.

He's careful to catch it, forcing the barrel back in your mouth as he places a hand on your ass, controlling how your ass bounces on his lap. The gun offers motivation like no other. It has you arching your back and swirling your hips as you tighten your cunt around him.

He sticks the gun down too far and you gag. "You trying to get me to cum, huh? You little slut-" you nod, the tears still spilling as pleasure begins to stream through your brain. It has you excited by the prospect of being held at gunpoint. You realize with grave certainty that you've arrived at the point of no return.

"What a good girl- fuck-" he's ramming up into you, his hand on the gun twitching like his cock does. "I'm gonna fucking cum- FUCK-" he does and your orgasm immediately barrels into you at the exact same time. You try to ride him, to milk it as much as you can, to continue to make him happy.

"Such a stupid fucking slut-" he whispers, eyes hooded as his hips still spurt cum into you.

Your ears perk. You see his finger on the trigger move. You squeeze your eyes shut as you hear a click.

"Such a silly girl." You hear him say. "Don't worry, Baby, it isn't loaded." You're still in your body. You're still alive, on his lap, your sundress unfurling around you both.

"Not yet anyway."

© to @muntitled on tumblr; do not repost

[gongyussy]

deepthroating a gun without breaking eye contact...... he put his entire gongyussy into that | SQUID GAME 2

+ the video because the sound he makes when he puts the gun in his mouth? [redacted]

update: he improvised that. the man really said i'll go full slut.

[saymio]

In Ho headcanons | (NSFW)

Pairing: Hwang In-ho (player 001/the front man) x Fem!reader

Genre: headcanons, smut

Warning: dead dove do not eat, manipulation, dub/noncon, age gap, might be more but im too lazy to write it down

A/N: not proof read. thanos story in the works rn!! I have writers block so to help a little I'm making some hcs 4 this baddie (prob ooc)

hwang inho, the man that protected you from Thanos and his stupid friend during the first day of the games. he shoo'ed them away. stopping their harassment and took you with him with the rest of the group

hwang inho, the man that gives you his milk. reassuring you every time that its okay for you to have it, and it'll help you get stronger.

hwang inho, the man that checks up on you throughout the night. standing over you to make sure you're getting your nights rests. making sure no creeps try touching your delicate skin.

hwang inho, the man that lets touches linger a little longer than they should, whether its on your hands, thighs, waist..his touches feel more than platonic

hwang inho, the man that tells the guards to make sure you stay safe, to kill a player that hasn't broken the rules if they had to. anything to make sure you stay safe.

hwang inho, the man that would excuse himself to the bathroom just to touch himself to the thought of you. whether its your calm voice or plush hands that feel so soft and delicate...he just couldn't help it.

hwang inho, the man that squeezes your thighs when no ones looking...and when you express discomfort he used his past generosity as an excuse for it.

hwang inho, the man that will kiss you in the middle of the night with no warning. telling you to be quiet and take the kiss because if it were any other man it would've been worse.

hwang inho, the man that will find the perfect timing to sneak away from everyone else with you. he'll make you strip for him in the bathroom. savoring every inch of your body before he sends you away, leaving him in there alone to masturbate.

hwang inho, the man that wont let you sleep. he'll grope and squeeze your thighs, tits and ass. feeling you up while you hold in tears.

hwang inho, the man that reminds you this is your fault when you cry to him during a bathroom strip session. expressing how uncomfortable this makes you and how you don't want it anymore.

hwang inho, the man that will tell you nothing in the world is free. and your body will be the payment he receives for being so generous with you.

hwang inho, the man that gets hard thinking about your age gap. how youre only 19 and he's in his 40's..he loves it.

hwang inho, the man that slips his fingers inside of you when the lights are off, fingering you aggressively. reminding you once again that it'd be so much worse if he wasn't such a nice man.

hwang inho, the man that captures you during the raid against the guards. forcing you to stare into the eyes of your past friends as he kills them.

hwang inho, the man that keeps you as his pet after the games end. reminding you you're lucky because he spoils you with money.

hwang inho, the man that doesn't let you socialize with anyone after he's gotten his grip on you.

Another not: this one is pretty short compared to my last fic, this was to just try n get me out of writers block. expect a Thanos fic to pop up tmr. sorry if this sucked/was ooc, I tried my best T T~~

[greengoblinswifey]

Beneath Chaos—Hwang In ho/Player 001 x Fem!Reader

summary— amid the deadly Squid Game, you form a forbidden bond with Young-il, a married man. one night after lights out, seeking comfort, you ask him to stay by your side and things escalate.

warnings— no spoilers, age gap(reader is in her 20s, young-il is in his 40s), infidelity, oral(f!receiving), fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— for the newbies, y/n in all my stories is black but ofc, everyone can read <3 also this man has so many names, omfg.

Part II

The games had taken their toll on everyone. The latest round had been especially brutal, dead bodies across the arena, screams still ringing in your ears even after hours. Everyone was on edge, fear settling deep into their bones as they huddled in their corners of the dormitory, too paranoid to sleep.

You sat in the dim light, knees drawn up to your chest, trying to quiet your breathing. You glanced over to the group you had managed to stick with, Gi-hun, Jung Bae, Dae-ho, the rest and—Young il.

Your gaze lingered on him longer than it should have. He was older, quiet, and deliberate in his actions, his face lined with age and attractiveness. There was a steadiness to him, even in the chaos of the games, that drew you in despite your better judgment. You knew he had a wife, he had mentioned her being in the hospital when the group shared snippets of their lives. But the magnetic pull you felt toward him was undeniable.

The sleeping quarters was cold, the hum of fear in the air. You hesitated before shifting closer to him. “Young-il,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

He turned to you, his expression calm but questioning. “What is it?”

You swallowed hard, feeling foolish for even asking. “Can you—can you stay beside me tonight? I just, um, I don’t feel safe.”

He regarded you for a moment, his dark eyes scanning your face. Then, after a beat of silence, he nodded. “Alright.”

Relief washed over you as he moved closer, sitting beside you on the thin mattress. The proximity made your heart race, but you told yourself it was just the stress of the situation.

Hours passed, and the room slowly quieted as people succumbed to exhaustion. You and Young-Il lay on your sides, facing each other. The dim light cast soft shadows over his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the lines etched into his skin.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he murmured, his voice low, almost teasing.

You blinked, startled. “Like what?”

“Like I’m the answer to whatever you’re feeling right now,” he said, his tone gentle but firm.

You flushed, breaking eye contact. “I’m sorry. I know you’re married. I shouldn’t—”

“Shh,” he said softly, his hand brushing against yours. “Let’s just forget everything for a moment.”

Your breath hitched as he moved closer, his face inches from yours. His lips brushed yours, hesitating at first, testing the waters. The kiss was soft, but the weight of everything unsaid between you made it feel electric.

You pulled back suddenly, guilt flooding you. “I can’t. This isn’t right. You have a wife—”

“Don’t think about that right now,” he interrupted, his voice a low murmur. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Just stay with me.”

His lips captured yours again, this time more insistent. The kiss deepened, a hunger building between you as the world outside faded away. His hands roamed down your body and you couldn’t stop yourself from melting into his touch.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of warmth. Your breath came in shallow gasps as he moved lower, his hands gripping your hips firmly. When he reached the waistband of your sweatpants, he paused, looking up at you for permission.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with both desire and restraint.

You nodded, unable to form words, your heart pounding in your chest.

With deliberate care, he tugged down your sweats and underwear, his lips pressing gentle kisses along your thighs as he did. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice filled with awe.

With his eyes locked on yours, his head lowered between your legs. His lips captured your bundle of nerves, sucking softly as a soft gasp left your lips. You pressed them together, not wanting to wake anyone to see what was taking place. His tongue flicked your clit sending more pleasure than you had ever felt throughout your body, making you shiver.

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmured between your legs.

You nodded frantically, fingers lacing in his silky hair as he continued feasting on your pussy. His tongue glided from your hole back up to your clit then down again. He circled your hole, letting his tongue slip inside as he collected your juices on his tongue. Your free hand clamped over your mouth, desperately trying to keep quiet as he slipped a finger inside your pussy.

Your back arched from the bed as his skilled finger curled and his tongue sucked on your clit with ferocity.

“You’re doing so well, cum for me, cum on my tongue and my fingers,” he whispered.

Your fingers curled into the thin blanket beneath you as he continued, each flick of his tongue and thrust of his finger sending shivers down your spine. His movements became overwhelming and you pressed your lips together tightly as an intense orgasm washed over you making your back arch from the small bed.

“That’s it, good girl, I’m so proud of you,” he whispered.

In that moment, the fear and chaos of the games melted away, leaving you wanting more. You trembled beneath him, breathless and aching, your skin tingling from the intensity of his tongue. “Young-il,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the dormitory. “I need more. Please.”

He stilled, his dark eyes meeting yours, searching for something. “Are you sure?” he murmured.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes,” you whispered, your lips brushing his ear as your fingers gripped his shoulders.

His lips curved into a soft smirk, his hands sliding up your sides. “Then beg for it,” he said, his voice low and commanding, with dominance you hadn’t expected.

Your cheeks burned, but the desperation in your chest won out. “Please,” you murmured, your voice soft but trembling with need. “Please, Young-il, I need you. I need you to fuck me.”

“As you wish,” he interrupted. He shifted to sit back on his knees, his hands deftly tugging his sweats and boxers down. He watched your reaction as he freed his hard cock, his gaze heavy.

“Look at you,” he murmured, one hand stroking over your hip as his other lined himself up at your leaking entrance. “So perfect, so beautiful. I don’t deserve this, but, God, I’m going to make you feel so good.”

You gasped as he pressed his cock into you slowly, his whispered praises filling the space between you. “That’s it,” he encouraged, his hand braced beside your head. “You’re doing so well. So tight, so perfect for me.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he began to move, his thrusts measured and deliberate. The quiet around you made every sound amplified, the soft rustle of sheets, skin slapping, the hitch in your breath, and his murmured words of adoration. “Cum for me,” he whispered into your ear, his voice cracking with need. “Do it, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

You cried out softly, your hands clutching him as you surrendered, your body shuddering against his as your pussy gushed on his raw cock. He held you through it, his touch firm and grounding.

Moments later, he shifted, his body warm and solid beside you. “I’m not done with you,” he murmured, lifting your leg over his hip as he slid into your throbbing cunt.

The angle made you gasp, your hand flying to his arm as he held you close. “You’re f-fucking me so good,” you managed, your voice breathless.

“Shh,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Stay with me. Feel everything, just like this. You’re perfect, you hear me? Perfect.”

Your breaths mingled as he began pounding into you harder and the rhythm grew more intense, both of you trying to hold back the sounds that threatened to escape. His lips pressed against your ear. “Cum with me,” he urged, his voice a broken whisper. “Cum on my cock as I cum inside you, sweetheart.”

You clung to him as your orgasm took ahold of you once more, the world fading away as waves of warmth washed over you. His grip tightened, and his soft groan against your skin coupled with the feeling of his cum filling your pussy were the only confirmation you needed that he’d joined you.

When the high ended, he rolled onto his back, pulling you against his chest. His lips pressed gentle kisses along your hairline, your forehead, your cheeks. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he murmured, his voice soft and tender. “You’re going to get out of here. I promise.”

You nestled against him, his arms wrapped securely around you, the fear and chaos of the games momentarily forgotten.

[catchastarorten]

—Sleep well.

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho x fem!reader

Summary: Gi-hun suggested that the group took turns staying on watch in case the other players attacked, him and Jung-bae stayed up while you and the others napped, Dae-ho took his place beside you to rest with you.

Content: fluff, cuddling(?), you head-butting him in your sleep lol, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not really proofread, sorry!

Word count: 808

You were tucked into the corner with your group—Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Young-il, Dae-ho, and Jun-hee. Trust was a rare thing in the games, but the six of you managed to stick together, watching each other’s backs through the brutal rounds.

The weight of exhaustion clung to you, but Gi-hun’s paranoia kept your eyes open longer than you would have liked. He wasn’t wrong, though. The fear was palpable.

Your group pulled a couple of mattresses off of the bunks, arranging them as best as possible. One was dragged and laid flat against the wall, the others shoved under bunk frames for some semblance of protection.

“Is this really necessary? I don’t like sleeping under there.” Jung-bae asked, sliding a mattress to Gi-hun, who shoved it under a bunk frame.

“Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us.” Gi-hun said, his eyes focused and his voice steady. “The prize money still goes up if we kill each other. It’s a part of the game they designed.”

You exchanged a look with Dae-ho, who sat cross-legged beside you, holding onto some blankets and pillows. He had been your shadow ever since Red light, Green light. Always sticking close, insisting on protecting you in this place after seeing the way you froze during the first game—when he told you to stay behind him closely so you could use him as a human shield.

“We need to take turns keeping watch after the lights go out.” Gi-hun muttered, sitting down at the foot of the bunk beds, his sharp eyes scanning the room. “I’ll take the first watch.”

The lights flickered out not long after, leaving the only source being the giant piggy-bank hung on the ceiling that was glowing dimly.

It was after a while when Jung-bae rolled out lazily from under a bunk and plopped down beside Gi-hun, the two of them speaking in hushed voices.

You laid down on one of the mattresses, wrapping the thin blanket around yourself. Dae-ho settled beside you not long after, and though you weren’t expecting it, his hand brushed against yours as he shifted to get comfortable, and you were sure you saw his face flush before he hid it, which barely worked, to be honest.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbled, his voice low and soothing. “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll fight them off if they try to come over here.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart ache in the best way. Dae-ho had a knack for looking out for you since you met him in the games, even in the little ways—giving you his portion of food, stepping in when someone got too close. You hadn’t known him long, but there was this easy warmth between the two of you.

Within minutes, you were sound asleep.

Dae-ho’s soft snores filled the small space you both shared. Exhaustion had gotten the better of him, just like it did to you. His arm had draped protectively over your side in his sleep, his presence a cocoon of safety.

Gi-hun and Jung-bae sat near the bunks, their attention now drawn to the sound of soft snoring. Both sets of eyes landed on you and Dae-ho, curled up together on the mattress.

“They’re out like a light,” Jung-bae remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You know, seeing them like that... it reminds me of when we went on strike. We were occupying the factory, and management told us to come out. They said anyone who came out voluntarily would be let off the hook and receive more severance pay.”

Gi-hun stared into the distance, as if recalling what happened.

“You were sleeping beside me and you were talking in your sleep. ‘Mom, I’m hungry, give me some food.’” Jung-bae made an exaggerated crying face, and Gi-hun gave him a glare as Jung-bae nudged him with his elbow, smirking.

Their voices echoed, and soon enough, soft laughs filled the quietness.

Jung-bae chuckled again, louder this time. He clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The noise had reached you, and you stirred slightly. Dae-ho, still asleep, curled closer to you instinctively, his arm tightening around your side. His movement caused your head to shift slightly, and without warning, you head-butted him in your half-asleep state of grogginess.

Dae-ho furrowed his brows, a soft noise escaping his lips as he shifted again, burying his face into the crook of his arm. You tugged the blanket over your shoulders, muttering something incoherent before nestling deeper into the mattress, falling right back asleep.

Jung-bae stifled another laugh, his shoulders shaking with the effort. Gi-hun gave him a glare, but a faint smile was already tugging at the corners of his mouth too.

“They’re like kids,” Jung-bae whispered, his tone fond.

“Let them sleep. They’ll need it.” Gi-hun shook his head and sighed softly.

[dgaftilwedie]

anything you can do, i can do better (thagyu)

here's another fic teehee... this took me like, three days to write and i am so proud of how it turned out?? fic is already up on my ao3 (@kittieglitter i will keep tagging this sorry not sorry HEHEHE) absolutely ginormous shoutout to my amazing bff kyle (@toysrguts) for helping me <3

contains: 18+ content (MINORS DNI BARKBARKBARK), domgyu AGAIN, thanos getting his ass obliterated, light bondage, light dom/sub dynamic, thanos abusing substances, drinking, choking, scratching, biting, dirty talk, praise and degradation at the same time, hair pulling, humiliation, rough oral, rough sex, thanos being absolutely PATHETIC, and namgyu being in love with his best friend

“Stop being such a cunt,” Namgyu snorted, spinning around the whiskey in his glass. His feet were kicked up on a black leather footrest. His work shoes were getting dirt on the surface but he couldn’t care. He leaned back on a matching black leather armchair and watched as Thanos slammed down another shot of something hard. There was a mischievous gleam in the purpled-haired man’s eyes that Namgyu barely caught.

They were in one of Club Pentagon’s VIP rooms. Namgyu got fancy perks because he was an employee and could get into the rooms for free, which was a service that Thanos abused a lot. Between the two men was a glass coffee table surrounded by other chairs and benches. Thanos sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, flipping a straw between his fingers. A neat line of coke was on the glass in front of him.

“What, Namsu?” 

“That. Stop fuckin’ calling me Namsu.”

Namgyu could feel his eyes rolling back into his skull. This wasn’t the first time he had to correct Thanos on his name, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. The two of them had been friends for years, fucked one too many times, and Thanos still couldn’t get his name right. Namgyu wasn’t sure why it was pissing him off so much that night, but it was. Maybe it was stress, maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the fact that he was sober and didn’t want to be.

He watched as Thanos leaned forward, his blue eyes staring into Namgyu’s brown ones. The younger man watched the line disappear up his partner’s nose. His eyebrows cocked before going back to their neutral state - a faint warning that danger was afoot.

“Why should I? It’s cute.” Thanos let out a stupid giggle, one that irked Namgyu to his core. Thanos’s playfulness was usually something that he looked forward to but it was getting under his skin instead.

“It’s pissing me off, man,” he huffed, running his ringed fingers through his slicked-back hair. His head flopped back against the chair and a sigh left his parted lips. Thanos laughed again - cackled, really - before leaning his back against one of the many seats in the VIP room. Namgyu took a swig of his neglected whiskey, revelling in the way it burned like it was his only release.

“Aww, my poor Namsu,” Thanos said with a menacing grin. Namgyu could tell he was trying to get on his nerves. The way he kept giggling to himself over it… His dark eyes glared at Thanos, irritated. Unfortunately, he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Namgyu kicked his feet off of the foot rest, legs spreading in front of him.

“If you don’t cut the shit…” Namgyu’s voice deepened. Whatever he was holding back was itching to break free. It was all threat, almost a growl as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, gold chain necklace dangling away from his tan skin. “I’m going to fuck that attitude out of you.”

The mischievous gleam in Thanos’s eyes sparkled like glitter under a flashlight. Namgyu had never been the one to take charge in whatever kind of relationship they had. To be frank, he was usually the one getting fucked, not doing the fucking. Thanos had been yearning in quiet for this moment. He smirked, just barely, chewing on his tongue. 

“That’s what I-”

“Is that a promise, Namsu?” Thanos looked up at Namgyu through his eyelashes, batting them like he hadn’t done anything wrong. Namgyu’s eye twitched as he let out a chuckle in sheer disbelief. Thanos threw his arms up, feigning a wordless apology. He watched as Namgyu stood up slowly, walking around the table, and then just standing there, staring down at him. Namgyu bent down, grabbing ahold of the collar of Thanos’s t-shirt and hoisting him to his feet with it. 

“Come on, Namgyu, I was just fucking with you!” Thanos exclaimed, trying to hide the fact that he was already getting hard. Namgyu could see through his rouse easily. He was never a good liar.

“You’re a fucking slut, you know that?” Namgyu’s eyes were dark, half-full of rage, half-full of lust. He let go of Thanos’s collar to undo the black belt that held up his pants. His whole outfit was black - the button-up shirt, the dress pants, the shoes - everything except for the chain on his neck and the tattoos on his arms. He made quick work of his belt, grabbing Thanos’s wrists and hastily tying them together.

“Never seen you be this forward, Namsu,” he laughed, immediately silenced by a rough tug on his wrists.

“You speak when spoken to. I don’t wanna hear a peep out of those pretty lips til I say you can talk, got it?” Namgyu tugged on the belt again, never breaking eye contact with Thanos. He watched as he nodded his head, dopey smirk still on his face.

“Good. Get on your fuckin’ knees.” 

Namgyu leaned into the chair that was closest to Thanos, pulling his pants and boxers down just far enough for his cock to spring out. He spread his legs, leading Thanos in between them with another tug of his wrists. He stared up at Namgyu with a pathetic look on his face. He was ready to be ravaged. Fuck, how he’d yearned for the day this happened. Now that it was in front of him, poor Thanos was getting a little nervous.

“Come on, Subong. Be a good boy and suck me off,” Namgyu huffed. Thanos nearly choked on his saliva. He swallowed hard, resting a cheek on Namgyu’s thigh. Another tug on the belt had his mouth wide open. Namgyu let out a snicker, grabbing a tuft of his purple hair and forcing his cock into his mouth. “You’re gonna take it like a slut since you wanted it so fucking bad.”

Namgyu used Thanos’s hair to guide his movements, fucking his mouth like it was a fleshlight. He let the older man’s wrists drop in between his legs. His movements were sharp, harsh but precise. He pulled Thanos's head back, lips popping off of his tip with a wet smack. Namgyu chuckled, using his other hand to slap Thanos’s mouth with his dick.

“Keep your mouth open. Go on, catch it.” Thanos stared up at him before his jaw fell open. Namgyu was treating him like a toy - he was getting used, and enjoying every minute of the humiliation. Namgyu’s fingers ghosted over Thanos’s cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. He fell into a rhythm quick enough, yanking at the man’s hair with every motion. He pulled Thanos back, his dick popping out of his mouth again. “Takin’ me like a good little whore,” Namgyu growled before slamming his cock as far down Thanos’s throat as it would go. He chuckled as he heard (and felt) him gag.

Thanos’s eyes met Namgyu’s again, lips wrapped around his cock - a sight for sore eyes. He slightly loosened his grip on Thanos’s hair. Letting out a barely noticeable whimper, his teeth met his lip and his eyelids fluttered. It was a tell-tale sign he was getting close. With the newfound kind-of-freedom, Thanos pulled off of his cock. “You sure you want me to keep going?” 

Namgyu’s fingers tightened, forcing his dick back into Thanos’s mouth. “You know the rules,” he said, gasping as his friend’s tongue ran over his tip. Thanos hummed and shrugged as best he could. Namgyu pressed a hand to his mouth, pretty whimpers dying in his palm as Thanos worked his magic. He knew if he didn’t stop him soon, he was going to cum, and he didn’t want that - he had to have his way with him, had to teach Thanos a fucking lesson.

“Fuck, ok.” Namgyu pulled Thanos’s head back, groaning as he felt his orgasm fade away. His cock twitched against his lips. Thanos rocked back and sat on his knees, watching Namgyu catch his breath with a stunning amount of obedience. The younger man leaned forward and undid his belt from around his wrists before reaching over the table and grabbing his whiskey. He finished what was left in the glass with a single swig, placing it on the glass table with a clink. 

“Take it off.” He gestured at Thanos, head to toe to head again. He listened silently, throwing his t-shirt over his head. He glimmered in the dim light of the room. The outline of his limbs glowed amber, highlighting the faint muscles on his arms. His nipples were pierced with silver bars and there was a tattoo on the soft chub of his stomach. Namgyu couldn’t make out the words but he could see a pistol. Thanos’s eyes found Namgyu as he gripped the waist of his cargo shorts in the most sultry way possible. The younger man bit his lips, scanning his body - the way his tummy peaked out over his waistline, the way the fabric lifted over his bulge; it was like a treat. Thanos’s shorts hit the floor hastily, cock springing out the second it could. He was achingly hard, tip pink and leaking drips of pre-cum onto the floor.

“Good boy. Now bend yourself over the table,” Namgyu snickered. There was faint embarrassment in Thanos’s eyes. That was something you don’t see every day… But he listened. Namgyu ran a cold hand down Thanos’s back, tracing his tattoos with his fingers before settling on the meat of his thigh. He reached behind him, fiddling with a storage compartment in the chair for a bottle of lube. Oh, how he loved knowing this club like the back of his hand. 

“Looks like you took care of all the hard work for me, huh? Did you plan this?” 

“Maybe.”

Namgyu chuckled, rolling his eyes. Of course Thanos would’ve planned this. This was Thanos he was talking about… Probably picked his most stressful day of the week to harass him into dicking him down. He squirted the lube into his hands, taking the opportunity to jerk himself off. Seeing his best friend bent over in front of him like this had him taking a mental screenshot for the spank bank. 

“Gonna take me so fucking good, aren’t you?” Namgyu lined himself up with Thanos’s asshole, feeling the older man shudder at his touch. “Gonna fit me like a glove.”

Thanos let out a deep, shaky breath, looking over his shoulder at Namgyu. He was practically drooling over him. His brown eyes were crazed and eager, cock leaking as he ran his tip across his hole. “Say it,” he blurted out. “Tell me how bad you fucking want it.”

“Namgyu,” Thanos whined. “Come on.”

“Tell me how bad you want it, slut,” Namgyu repeated, nails digging into Thanos’s thigh. He wasn’t going to move an inch until he heard him begging for it. Namgyu could barely think straight. He was running off of the thrill of the chase, every groan and grunt from Thanos adding fueling to the fire. He needed this - probably more than Thanos did.

“Please fuck me, Namgyu. Don’t make me say it again.” Thanos was cringing as the words left his mouth - not that he wasn’t enjoying himself, but it wasn’t often that he was put in this position. He was just a little embarrassed. Namgyu pressed his tip up against Thanos again. 

“I need it, man. Need you to fuck me bad,” he mumbled. 

“Yeah you fuckin’ do.” Namgyu exhaled harshly through his nose. His dick entered Thanos faster than either of them expected, eliciting blissful moans from both men. Thanos’s face was pressed against the cool surface of the table, right next to his used straw and empty shot glass. Namgyu grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked it, forcing his back to arch. His other hand ghosted up his body and latched around the back of his neck, nails digging moon-shaped curves into the skin next to his tattoo. Namgyu pulled back and then slowly thrusted into him, sighing at the warmth and the tightness.

His hips bucked again, harder this time, tip kissing Thanos’s prostate. He bit down on his lip hard. Another rough thrust threatened his silence, and another one made him break it with a muffled “oh, fuck”. Namgyu’s pace was brutal, every movement rhythmic but unrestrained. Namgyu filled the room with whimpers and whines and mumbles about how fucking tight Thanos was, how good he was taking him. The way Namgyu was fucking into him had him seeing stars. He was pretty sure the glass beneath his face was going to crack from the pressure. Thanos’s dick twitched with every word his best friend uttered. 

“Not so fuckin’ tough now, are you?” Namgyu laughed, giving another harsh tug to Thanos’s hair. He grunted, breathing through his teeth. “Lemme hear those pretty noises, slut.”

Thanos let out another choked, breathy moan which he silenced immediately. Namgyu let go of his hair, smoothing out the rustled roots as he ran his hand down Thanos’s back. He grabbed onto his waist, rings digging into his flesh. He leaned down and his lips brushed Thanos’s ear.

“I’m telling you to speak, bitch. You speak when fucking spoken to.”

Thanos couldn’t tell if it was the substances in his system or the sheer amount of control Namgyu had over him at that moment, but he let out a stupidly pathetic whine, leaning backwards to meet Namgyu’s thrust. Namgyu wasn’t sure if he caught it at first; the moment he did, he made it his mission to have Thanos sound like that all the time. 

“Tryna fuck yourself on my cock, huh?” Namgyu rasped, slowing his movements to a standstill. Thanos huffed, looking over his shoulder with puppy dog eyes. Namgyu’s hand was glued to the back of his neck, limiting his range of motion, but not enough to stop him from shooting a look of desperation towards the younger man. “Go on,” he laughed. “Since you just can’t wait.”

“You’re such an ass,” Thanos said with a groan. He was so far gone he couldn’t protest any further, grinding his ass into Namgyu’s cock. 

“That’s it, keep going.” Namgyu had a smile plastered on his face and he knew Thanos could hear it in his voice. The older man whined as he weakly bucked into Namgyu. Without warning, his hands grabbed Thanos by the waist and he fucked into him at record speed. He let out a laugh as a string of garbled expletives left Thanos’s parted lips. “You really thought? Thought I was gonna let you take charge for even a second?” Namgyu snorted. “No, you’re my bitch tonight.”

If his pace before was brutal, his pace now was murderous. His grip on Thanos was going to leave bruises - both of them knew it, neither of them cared. The more marks the better. Namgyu would be covering Thanos in hickies if it weren’t for how deep he was buried into him. 

“You’re gonna fucking-” Thanos started, cutting himself off with a moan. 

“I’m gonna fucking… what? Use your words.” A hand left Thanos’s waist, hovering over his ass. 

“Gonna fucking make me cum,” Thanos mumbled. He was sure his cheeks were bright red, but the lighting was warm; it would hide it. Namgyu hummed, deciding against leaving a handprint on his ass, instead reaching his hand between Thanos’s legs. The sudden contact of Namgyu’s thumb running over his tip forced another pitiful whimper out of his mouth. 

“Been such a good boy for me, haven’t you?” Namgyu giggled, pressing his lips to Thanos’s shoulder. He pumped his cock at a mindlessly slow pace - a stark contrast to the roughness of his cock slamming into Thanos’s prostate. “Wanna hear you say it…” Namgyu’s voice faded into a whisper as he could feel himself right on the edge. 

“So good, been such a good boy for you, Nam.” Thanos’s words slurred together. The only thought in his mind was how good everything felt. All of the control was out of his hands. Whatever happened was all Namgyu’s doing. He could feel the pleasure building in his core; a sweet, electric heat that amplified every one of Namgyu’s motions. “So close,” Thanos hummed, barely realizing the words had left his mouth.

“Fuck, me too.” Namgyu buried his face in Thanos’s neck, peppering a trail of kisses to the sweet spot on the side. “Want me to fill you up, huh?”

“Please.”

“That’s a good fucking slut,” Namgyu moaned, thrusts becoming sporadic. The roughness didn’t change but his flow was breaking as the warmth of his orgasm started to envelope him. He didn’t bother telling Thanos - he’d seen him cum enough to know when it’s happening. A feeling of bliss washed over him, all warm and tantalizingly addictive. He let out an exasperated moan into Thanos’s ear, and it was enough to send him over the edge. His hips bucked into Namgyu’s shaking hand, a soft, airy moan spilling from his lips. His cum was going to leave a stain on the carpet but that didn’t matter to him. The only thing that mattered was the delicious feeling of ecstasy overwhelming his senses.

Bathing in the afterglow of their orgasms, Namgyu rested his face in between Thanos’s shoulders, breaths stuttering as he exhaled. His hands moved to sit on the older man’s waist - this time, his touch was gentle. He pulled out slowly and watched as his cum dripped out of Thanos’s asshole. He had to look away or else he knew he’d pop another boner way faster than he wanted to.

“That was…” Thanos started, letting out a breath in astonishment. “Damn.” 

Namgyu smirked. He was way too proud of himself. “Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes, cleaning off his dick before tucking himself back into his pants. He helped Thanos up, even if he didn’t need it, and ran his fingers through his silky purple hair. 

“I didn’t think you had it in you, honestly,” Thanos chortled, letting Namgyu clean him up. He pulled up his shorts and boxers, leaving his t-shirt discarded on the floor. Namgyu poked his stomach in between the lines of his tattoo.

“Told you I could do it just as good as you could.” Namgyu’s nose was turned up at him. Thanos threw his arm around him, pressing a sloppy kiss to his temple. 

“You should do that more often.”

“Ask next time. Don’t piss me off.”

“Whatever,” Thanos laughed, rolling his eyes playfully. Namgyu looked up at him and smirked. He may have been an asshole who couldn’t remember his name for shit, but that was his asshole. Deep down, he knew he loved him, he just wasn’t sure how to tell him. That, however, was a conversation for another day. For now, it was “what overpriced item do we order after wo rking up an appetite while fucking raw in the VIP room of a richy-bitch club?”.

[one-lucky-day]

Title: Darkest Hour / Wake Thy Power Fandom: Squid Game Characters: Seong Gihun Summary: Seong Gi-hun has always been a special kid, there’s something about him that lingers, something just out of reach. A Wiccan!Gihun fic that I just had to write.

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[blushingamethyst]

Unpopular opinion,

Too many men are written as “dom daddy” types in fics.

Like be for real, that man would be honored to be your floor mat.

He’s not giving orders, he’s taking them.

Stop being afraid, put on your big boots, and step on that man.