#strikes: 001.

[henrysglock]

HENRY CREEL X ABBEY (MITSKI)

ABBEY (name, Hebrew) - Meaning: Father's joy. - In Literature: King David's third wife, described as good in discretion and beautiful in form.

[wixcrafting]

When it happened, it felt like he was being torn apart and put back together. Magic, he knows, is a powerful thing. He just never knew it could feel like this. For so long, he knew he had the power, but this—the golden light around him, the illumination from the inside out—it felt like fetters had finally been removed and he could use everything that was his.

And it felt good.

More than good.

It felt right.

Now, hours after he'd been Chosen, when the denizens of the island were singing his name to the heavens, he was searching for the others that had been chosen. It's when he sees a familiar face with a familiar glow, that it brings a smirk to his face, crooked and half cocked. He walks over toward the Son of Athena, hands in the pockets of his trousers. "Didn't we just have a conversation about us being Chosen the other day?" He doesn't know if this is Huck or Strike, but he knows the information is shared between the two of them. "I'm glad that we're in this together, at the least. More reason to practice and train together."

@heeaaddache

[cosmobrain00]

I am LOVING everything about your “will never escapes the UD au”. It’s so damn cool and I want to hear more

hiii anon its been a bit but I hope u still wanna hear sm more<3

here r sm basic facts for u so far!

-first, evrything is the same as s1 except the party dont find el/ dont know will is in the UD, n ofc, will never escapes then

-will resists henry for a bit until he starts visiting him in the void in a more.. human form, n after tht will slowly succumbs

-n yk how in canon will feels wht He feels?? yeah imagine tht but ten times worse, where smtimes he'll literally forget his identity for a short amount of time

-will ends up bonding w a demo creature, but when henry has it killed in front him, he keeps his distance after tht so none of the others die. the demos still, tho, r surprisingly attached to him n v protective despite this, bc ovr time, they only recognize him as one of their own. (bf howevr they attempted to eat him.. several times. his hand is in rough shape due to tht, among other things tht happened during training

-will is even more malnourished than usual n is a lot smaller, but he's even more agile n fast here too. altho his vision is impaired, bc during an "ep" he tried to blind himself

-n speaking of tht, will eventually has to start eating any of the ppl who fall into the UD, n his first is, u guessed it, barb<3 (sorry barb)

-in here, will has creation powers, n henry teaches him how to use them, but even when will succumbs to his manipulation, most times the training is.. unwilling. due to tht henry keeps will on a short leash instead, more or less coaxes him into it in the void when the time comes, n frequently shows him his worst memories when he feels will's loyalty waning

-will is basically on the borderline of insanity due to the extreme amount of horrors he was exposed to, n by the time *someone* reaches him, he chooses the UD n henry ovr them

that's all im gonna share for now in case I do decide to turn this into a full fledged fic n dont wanna spoil evrything. ty once again for the interest anon n I hope this suffices!

[skwisgaarwife]

posting the chibi spider!henry reminded me i should probably post his full design. spidor :)

[khakilike]

X-Men: Before The Fall - Mutant First Strike #1, Steve Orlando and Valentina Pinti

[himbovillains]

‘ before you say anything, it wasn't me. ’

one divine looking slice of cake, carefully wrapped in a napkin before it had been deposited in her tiny clutch bag. there had barely been enough room in there for anything except her dance card but she'd been very gentle about squeezing the cake in there, and holding her purse delicately all the way home. it was hers to covet, to eat whenever she liked, without it being commented that 'perhaps she should watch her figure, there are men watching, after all'.

and now, when everyone else is in bed and she'd thought that a little late evening snack would have been an excellent idea, she finds him stood in front of the kitchen table, an empty napkin on the dark wood with nothing but crumbs to evidence that there had ever been a slice of cake there at all. ‘ no-one else knew about it, colin. you were the only person in this household who saw me take it. ’ here, she points at the napkin with a sharp and accusatory finger. ‘ and i see the evidence of your snacking right before you! ’ // @maskedquill

[stranger-chichka]

It’s becoming more and more real to me, because Kate’s written “The First Shadow” — a play about Henry Creel who’s called Edward Creel in one of the newspapers or…Henry Creel who’s Edward Creel in one of the timelines👀 @aemiron-main @henrysglock

I actually think the chances of the sign being a fake (not written by the writers) are high.

However

They are the same handwriting methinks

An example of how we can see that the writer who wrote the sign about Steve being toast also wrote movie names on the s4 movies inspiration board to prove that what I'm saying isn't completely delusional(?

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ ultraviolence ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x player!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! there is also a part one to this imagine, playing dangerous, and a part two, do you think you’d kill for me, one day? i hope you enjoy reading! 🤍

˚ ༘♡ choosing to take up arms and align yourself with player 456’s desperate plan was not so much a choice as it was an ultimatum. to do nothing, continue playing by their sadistic rules, meant walking the same path to inevitable death. but this? this rebellion, this gamble to strike at the heart of the operation. a blaze of defiance instead of the slow suffocation of compliance.

˚ ༘♡ the gunfire came fast and relentless, each crack like lightning splitting the air around you. the deafening staccato of bullets ricocheted off the metal structures, sharp and unforgiving. you pressed yourself hard against the crimson barrier, your heart a violent drumbeat in your chest. each near miss tore at your nerves, leaving behind the bitter taste of survival.

˚ ༘♡ the red structures were impractical shelter, offering only the facade of safety. around you, the others fought back with what little ammunition and courage they had. some fired blindly, their hands shaking, others aimed with accuracy, faces set with the resilience of people who knew they may never see another day.

˚ ༘♡ the air reeked of gunpowder and sweat, and your own breath came in short, uneven bursts as you tried to steady your hands. the ground beneath you was littered with shell casings and splintered debris, each piece a fragment of the chaos you had willingly stepped into. a thought crossed your mind, whether this was bravery or madness. but the thought vanished as quickly as it came, drowned out by the next thunderous racket of gunfire.

˚ ༘♡ you don’t have time to think, only to act. your fingers find the magazine release instinctively, pressing it hard. the spent magazine drops to the ground, clattering louder than you’d like. your other hand is already reaching for a fresh one, fumbling for a second before finding it.

˚ ༘♡ the cool metal feels heavy in your palm as you slot it into the magazine well. you shove it upward until it clicks into place, a sound that’s both satisfying and urgent. your hand moves to the slide, gripping the serrated edges. you pull it back sharply, feeling the resistance, and let it snap forward with a crisp, metallic clank.

˚ ༘♡ your heart is racing, but your hands are steady. you flick the safety off with your thumb without even thinking about it. the gun is ready again, its weight familiar in your grip. you take a breath that doesn’t seem deep enough, your focus narrowing as you lift the weapon and prepare to fire at the masked men who stand across in another block structure.

˚ ༘♡ player 001 had insisted you stay behind. his voice was grounded, almost gentle, as he took your hand, his rough fingers a stark contrast to the warmth in his tone. “this plan is reckless,” he said, his expression unreadable except for the glint of concern in his dark eyes. “we have enough people. you don’t need to put yourself in danger.” but his attempt at reassurance only fueled your resolve.

˚ ༘♡ “if you’re not staying behind, neither am i,” you replied, your voice firm, though your heart pounded like a war drum. his face darkened with vexation, but he didn’t argue further, young-il knew he could not change your mind.

�� ༘♡ crouched behind the unforgiving cover of the red structure, your hands trembled as you clutched the empty weapon. “i’m out of ammo,” you called, your voice barely cutting through the raucous chaos around you.

˚ ༘♡ gi-hun and jung-bae had disappeared minutes ago, slipping into the chaos to infiltrate the control room. every second they were gone stretching unbearably thin. around you, the others were panicking. shouts rose above the gunfire, “almost out!” player 246 hollered, “running low!” player 120 yelled out, desperation laced every shout.

˚ ༘♡ young-il’s radio crackled to life, gi-hun’s strained voice breaking through. “we’re running out of ammo here. there are more magazines on the guards, someone has to get them. hurry!”

˚ ༘♡ the moment the line went dead, young-il turned to the group. unlike the others, he was calm, his face as still as stone, his composure a striking contrast to the pandemonium. his eyes swept over each of you, calculating, deliberate. “four of us will move to back them up,” he said, his voice even, “but someone has to retrieve the magazines from the guards.”

˚ ༘♡ you felt the weight of his gaze settle on you for a moment longer than the others. your stomach tightened. the bodies of the masked men were out there, sprawled in the open, exposed under relentless gunfire. retrieving the magazines meant running into certain danger.

˚ ༘♡ “i’ll go!” dae-ho shouted, his voice quivering. his hands shook as he clutched his weapon, his knuckles white against the grip. before anyone could argue, he pushed himself to his feet and sprinted into the open, his silhouette a vulnerable target in the chaos. bullets ricocheted off nearby walls, sparks flying like tiny explosions. player 120 darted after him, crouching low and firing in short bursts to cover his reckless charge.

˚ ༘♡ young-il, player 047, and player 015 began moving toward the exit. you didn’t hesitate to follow, the worn soles of your shoes crunching against the debris-strewn ground. before you could take more than a few steps, young-il stopped abruptly, turning to face you. his stern gaze locked onto yours, “stay here,” he said, his voice low.

˚ ༘♡ your chest tightened with frustration, and you met his command with a sharp glare. “i can’t stay out here,” you hissed, your voice barely louder than the chaos around you. “how can i stand by knowing you’ll be in danger while i sit here, doing nothing? i can help.”

˚ ༘♡ his expression darkened, his face hardening as his jaw tightened. the faint lines around his eyes deepened into sharp creases, the wear of age etched into his skin. you could see the conflict inside him, his instinct to protect you clashing with the knowledge that he couldn’t stop you. his shoulders sagged ever so slightly, a reluctant surrender.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t argue further. instead, he turned sharply and continued toward the exit, his steps heavier than before. you followed close behind, the cold air biting at your face and your hands shaking.

˚ ༘♡ once inside, the oppressive silence of the corridors was shattered by the sharp crack of gunfire echoing through the narrow passageways. your boots slid against the blood-slick floors, the dark streaks smearing across the ground like grotesque markers guiding your way. shattered shell casings crunched underfoot, their metallic edges catching the dim light as you moved in tight formation behind the others.

˚ ༘♡ the sounds grew louder with every turn, each burst of gunfire sending a jolt through your chest. when you reached the source, your heart sank. gi-hun and jung-bae were pinned down behind a stack of crates, their weapons barking in quick bursts as masked men returned fire from the opposite end of the hall. “the control room is there!” gi-hun shouted, his voice strained as he gestured toward a guarded staircase. the veins in his neck stood out with the effort.

˚ ༘♡ young-il’s gaze darted between the staircase and gi-hun, his expression grim. “i’m nearly out of ammo,” he said, his voice undisturbed despite the chaos around him.

˚ ༘♡ gi-hun didn’t hesitate. he reached into his pocket, retrieving a magazine with shaky fingers. “here,” he said, extending it toward young-il. “it’s my last one.”

˚ ༘♡ young-il’s eyes flicked to the magazine, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. “are you sure?” he asked, his tone measured, though the tension in his voice was unmistakable.

˚ ༘♡ gi-hun nodded. “dae-ho will be back with more. now go!”

˚ ༘♡ young-il looked as though he might argue, yet with a reluctant nod, he took the magazine. sliding it into his weapon, he jerked his head toward the opposite direction. “this way,” he commanded.

˚ ༘♡ you fell in step beside him, your shoulder brushing his as you moved. the air felt thick, you couldn’t help but glance at young-il, his face a mask of stable focus.

˚ ༘♡ arriving at another stairwell, the tension in the air felt suffocating, every step heavy with the weight of what might come next. player 047 and player 015 moved quickly, their rifles poised as they positioned themselves near the walls, peering toward the masked guards above.

˚ ༘♡ you and young-il lingered behind them. he reloaded his rifle with the magazine gi-hun had given him. your hands tightening around your weapon. the cold metal felt heavier than ever, slick with the sweat of your palms. you tried to calm your breathing, to ready yourself for the chaos that was certain to erupt. beside you, young-il raised his gun, his posture steady and unshaken. you followed his lead, preparing for the onslaught, waiting for the inevitable storm of bullets. the shots rang out, but they weren’t aimed at the guards.

˚ ༘♡ the first sharp crack reverberated through the stairwell, a deafening sound that seemed to shatter the air. player 047 jerked forward, his body crumpling to the ground like a discarded puppet. his rifle clattered away, the life drained from him in an instant.

˚ ༘♡ before the echo of the first shot faded, another followed, sharp and final. player 015 collapsed, his body writhing as blood began to trickle beneath him. he let out a guttural, choked gasp, his hands clawing weakly at the ground as he struggled to breathe. his voice, broken and trembling, was barely audible as he begged for mercy, his words dissolving into wet, rasping breaths.

˚ ༘♡ you stood paralyzed, the scene before you unspooling in a sickening blur. player 047’s body lay still, his eyes vacant, while player 015 twitched helplessly, his life draining away with each agonized second.

˚ ༘♡ your eyes went to young-il, who remained motionless, his gun still raised. his expression was cold, unreadable, as if the weight of what he had done didn’t touch him at all. there was no hesitation in his actions, no flicker of remorse in his eyes.

˚ ༘♡ the distant echoes of gunfire and screams drowned out by the discordant pounding of your own heartbeat. your mind raced, grasping for something, anything, to make sense of what was happening, but your body refused to move. your breath caught in your throat as young-il turned toward you, his weapon still raised, the barrel gleaming under the light.

˚ ༘♡ time seemed to stretch as the frigid metal pressed against your forehead, the faint scrape of the barrel against your skin sending a chill down your spine. his eyes, once a source of reassurance, now bore into you with an intensity that felt almost inhuman. they weren’t angry, but calculating. you opened your mouth to speak, to plead, to demand answers, but no sound came. the words were trapped, strangled by a fear that gripped your chest.

˚ ༘♡ for a vanishing moment, hope sparked when he lowered the gun. relief struck you so abruptly it nearly made your knees give out. that hope shattered as quickly as it came. he aimed the gun not at your chest, but lower. you barely registered what was happening before the deafening crack of the shot filled the air.

˚ ༘♡ the agony radiating from your shattered knee. it was as if every nerve in your body had been set ablaze, the pain so consuming it blurred your vision and stole the breath from your lungs. blood gushed from the wound, pooling rapidly beneath you.

˚ ༘♡ you clawed at the ground, desperate for anything to anchor you as your body convulsed with the shock of the injury. tears streamed down your face, hot and uncontrollable, as a strangled cry escaped your lips. the cold floor beneath you seemed to pull the heat from your body, leaving you trembling and vulnerable.

˚ ༘♡ through the haze of agony, you forced your gaze upward, meeting his cold, unflinching eyes. “why?” you rasped, your voice barely audible over the pounding in your ears. the word was a broken plea, filled with pain and betrayal, though deep down, you already knew no answer could justify what he had done.

˚ ༘♡ young-il stalked over to player 047’s lifeless body, his demeanor disturbingly composed despite the carnage surrounding you both. crouching beside the corpse, he grabbed the sleeve of the dead man’s jacket, his fingers curling around the fabric. with a deliberate pull, he tore a strip from the bloodied material.

˚ ༘♡ you writhed where you lay, the searing pain in your knee refusing to relent. blood continued to seep from the wound, its warmth pooling beneath you in thick, sticky smears. your breathing came in short, erratic gasps

˚ ༘♡ he returned to you, the strip of fabric clutched in his hand like a twisted tool of control. his presence loomed over you, suffocating in its quiet intensity. you flinched as he knelt beside you, the smell of blood and sweat clinging to him, a grotesque reminder of what he’d done.

˚ ༘♡ without warning, his hand shot out, his grip firm as he seized your chin. the sudden pressure forced your head off the cold, blood-slick floor, and you gasped, your lips trembling as you struggled to focus through the pain clouding your vision. his touch was rigid, his fingers digging into the tender flesh of your jaw.

˚ ༘♡ young-il worked methodically, winding the fabric around your mouth. you tried to jerk your head away, but his grip tightened, holding you in place as he secured the knot at the back of your head. the coarse material bit into the corners of your mouth, the taste of grime and death filling your senses as your cries were reduced to stifled, pitiful sounds.

˚ ༘♡ when he finally let go of your chin, your head hit the floor with a thud that seemed to echo inside your skull. the pain was sharp, but it paled in comparison to the turmoil raging within you. confusion clawed at your thoughts, tangled with disbelief so heavy it was suffocating. this was young-il, the man who had stood beside you, risked his life for you. you couldn’t reconcile the murderous figure before you with the person who had once seemed so kind, so loyal. why? the question screamed in your mind, louder than the agony in your leg or the blood pounding in your ears.

˚ ༘♡ he pulled the portable radio from his pocket, the cold efficiency of his actions cutting deeper than any bullet could. he walked over to where player 015 lay, choking on his own blood, the pitiful sound barely audible between gurgling gasps. kneeling down beside him, young-il’s voice changed, slipping into a grotesque mockery of grief and desperation.

˚ ༘♡ “i’m sorry, gi-hun,” he said, his voice uneven, laced with feigned exhaustion. “it’s over.”

˚ ༘♡ your eyes widened as the meaning of his words sank in. you thrashed against the bindings around your mouth, your muffled screams raw and desperate as you tried to drown out his lie. gi-hun needed to hear the truth, that young-il betrayed them, but the gag stifled every sound.

˚ ༘♡ young-il pressed the radio closer to player 015, holding it just inches from the man’s face. the wet, ragged gasps of the dying player filled the channel. you watched in horror as young-il’s hand rested on the radio. it was cruel, calculated, a performance designed to destroy any hope gi-hun might have left.

˚ ༘♡ with a flick of his finger, he silenced the radio. the stairwell was suddenly quiet except for your muted weeping and the faint rasp of player 015’s fading breaths. young-il stood over him, his gun raised once more. there was no hesitation, no emotion as he pulled the trigger. the crack of the shot was deafening, the sound of it reverberating off the concrete walls and leaving an emptiness in its wake.

˚ ༘♡ the silence that followed was unbearable. it pressed down on you, crushing your chest, as the weight of his betrayal settled fully in your mind. young-il turned, his face as calm as ever, and you felt your stomach twist. “i’m sorry,” young-il murmured. your heart sank as you convinced yourself this was it. he was going to kill you, finish what he started and tie up loose ends.

˚ ༘♡ instead, he turned and walked away, his footsteps unhurried. the sound of them faded into the distance. confusion churned in your chest, mingling with the pain that consumed your body. why leave you in such a pathetic state? surely, even he wouldn’t be so brutal as to condemn you to bleed out slowly, to suffer alone in agony until death finally claimed you.

˚ ༘♡ time became meaningless as you lay there. blood seeped from your shattered knee in hot, pulsing waves, the sticky warmth swarming beneath you, soaking into your clothes. the air grew colder, or maybe it was you, the life draining from your body, inch by inch. you couldn’t tell if a minute had passed or an hour.

˚ ༘♡ somewhere far away, gunshots cracked. a scream came, a piercing, gut-wrenching sound that sent a shiver crawling up your spine despite your weakening state, unmistakably gi-hun. you refused to consider what might have happened, it was far too devastating.

˚ ༘♡ and then, footsteps.

˚ ༘♡ as the figure emerged into view, a dreadful realization set in. it wasn’t anyone you recognized.

˚ ༘♡ tall and imposing, the stranger was clad in sleek black from head to toe. the fabric of their attire shimmered faintly under the dim light, perfectly fitted, without a single crease or flaw. their face was concealed by an angular black mask, its pristine surface reflecting nothing, revealing nothing, not even a hint of the eyes beneath.

˚ ༘♡ your mind, dulled by pain and blood loss, struggled to comprehend the sight. fear should have seized you, but your body was too weak, your thoughts too fractured to muster a response. when the figure crouched beside you, their movements swift and efficient, you didn’t resist as they ripped the gag from your mouth.

˚ ༘♡ “who… who are you?” you managed to slur, your voice barely audible.

˚ ༘♡ the figure didn’t answer. they didn’t hesitate. one gloved hand cradled the back of your head, tilting it upward with unsettling care, while the other hand brought a cloth to your face. the sharp, chemical scent hit you instantly, chloroform.

˚ ༘♡ panic flared, yet it was short-lived. the edges of your vision blurred, your body growing heavier, like you were sinking into a dark, bottomless pit. the last thing you saw was the smooth, featureless mask staring down at you, icy and unfeeling, before the world faded into black.

a/n: another hwang in-ho fanfiction! let me know your thoughts and if you have any requests! 🤍

[yutarot]

ride or die. l.jn smau

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ f1driver!jeno, fake dating, college au, humor, romance, enemies to lovers

synopsis. you knew very little of jeno lee, but who did? he scared most people and hated the rest. so what happens when you accidentally walk in on him removing his race jacket, identifying him as the famous, faceless f1 driver you and everyone else know under the name samo. do you run around the college telling everyone of his secret? or do you take the opportunity to strike a deal with him, a deal which changes both of your lives, forever. a fake relationship.

taglist; open

status; ongoing 3.10.24 - ????

warnings; language, mentions of alcohol/ being drunk, mentions of sex, angst, jenos dad is strict af, blackmailing, lots of jealousy on jenos behalf, major character betrayal (again sorry guys lmaooo), lots of lying (again), the usual cliffhangers and painful suspense (again), yn is annoyingly stupid in the beginning but she grows

disclaimer; all portrayals of people are fake and from my imagination, in no way am i claiming that they act like this irl

playlist.

is it a crime sade — tasty nct 127 — can’t get you jaehyun — stupid cupid nct dream — uno muse — tokyo drift teriyaki boyz — this world ateez — talk talk featuring troye sivan charli xcx — volcano nct u — ten fred again — joyride kesha — faster nct 127 — miami will smith — rodeo wayv — smooth operator sade — (it goes like) nanana peggy gou — pipe christina aguilera — homecoming kanye west

masterlist.

[000] — [000]

[001] #NEEDTHAT

[002] DRIVE

[003] FOR HER

[004] TELL ME

[005] YN ENVY

[006] ACTUALLY…

[007] ITS COMPLICATED

[008] FOOLISHLY

[009] IS IT TRUE?

[010] I WANT U

[011] RISK.

[012] STAY

[013] NOT HIM. ME.

[014] I BARELY KNOW HIM

MID-FIC SUMMARY.

[015] #SELFCARE

[016] THUMBS DOWN EMOJI

[017] WHEN IT COMES TO YOU.

[018] FOR HER, I AM.

[019] NUH UH

[020] YOU HAVE TO TELL HER

more tba..

replies, likes and reblogs are all greatly appreciated! feel free to send thoughts in my asks!

[raekensluver]

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟶𝟶𝟷 — ᴘʀᴀɪsᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ

kinktober day 001 | spencer reid x fem!reader

contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, creampie, praise kink, porn without plot.

word count: 700+

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

spencer's hands gripped your hips, guiding you into a rhythm that felt like a dance you'd practiced for years. every thrust was met with a soft gasp from your lips, each one a silent plea for more. "you're so beautiful," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. the words were a caress, a warm embrace that filled you with a pride that was almost too much to handle. your chest swelled with each compliment, and you felt yourself getting wetter, your body eager to hear his praise.

"you're so eager for me," he teased, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. the way he spoke to you was a dance of power and submission, a delicate balance that had you panting with need. his thumb traced circles on your clit, and you bucked your hips against him, seeking relief from the ache that was building. "you want it, don't you?" he asked, his tone playful but edged with dominance. "tell me."

you looked into his eyes, your own burning with lust and need. "yes," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "i want it, spencer." the words were like a confession, a declaration that you were his to take. and he took it, his smile growing wider as he thrust into you with more force, his thumb pressing down harder on your sensitive nub. your body responded immediately, the pressure building until you thought you might break apart.

"good girl," he breathed, his voice thick with desire. the praise sent a bolt of electricity through your body, making you arch your back and moan. you leaned into his touch, craving the way he made you feel so cherished. his praise was a drug, and you were eager for your next hit. "you're taking me so well," he whispered, and you bit your bottom lip, your eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before snapping open to meet his gaze again. the power in those two simple words was undeniable, a command that turned you into putty in his hands.

with every stroke, spencer's eyes seemed to devour you, as if he couldn't believe how lucky he was to be inside of you. "so wet for me," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. his thumb found your clit again, and he began to rub it in a slow, deliberate circle. the pressure built and grew, your breath coming in gasps that matched the rhythm of his thrusts. "you're so responsive," he said, his voice filled with wonder. "it's like you were made for me."

his praise was a symphony that played in your head, each note striking a chord of pleasure that resonated deep within you. you felt your orgasm approaching like a crescendo, and your muscles tightened around him as you neared the peak. "spencer," you gasped, his name a plea that seemed to hang in the air. his eyes darkened, and his grip on your hips tightened as he drove into you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

his thumb never ceased its torturous dance on your clit, and his cock filled you completely, hitting just the right spot with every stroke. "are you going to cum for me, baby?" he cooed, his voice a sweet temptation that made your core clench with anticipation. you nodded, unable to form coherent words, your eyes locked on his as if he was your lifeline in the tumultuous sea of pleasure.

and then it happened. your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, a powerful force that had you screaming his name. your body tightened around him, your nails digging into his back as spasms of pure bliss ripped through you. spencer watched with awe as your face contorted in ecstasy, his eyes never leaving yours. "good girl," he murmured, his praise a gentle caress that only amplified the intensity of your climax. "you're so perfect, so beautiful when you cum."

his own release followed shortly after, his cock pulsing inside of you as he reached his peak. with a groan, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. the taste of victory washed over him as he filled you up, his body trembling with the effort. for a moment, the world seemed to stop, the only sounds in the room the frantic beat of your hearts and the soft, satisfied sighs that escaped your lips.

kintober taglist: @multi-fandom-imagine, @imamexican, @majaduzejaja, @moony-artemis, @emma-e-a, @agoodgirlsguidetomakingmencry @indigoangel77, @froyofreya, @weirdothatwritess

[ichabodsam]

samael nodded, frown still present but lessening. this was new territory, for him at any rate, and navigating it would take time to learn. he wasn't sure how patient strike could be, but he hoped huck had just enough of it for the both of them.

"thank you, then." he voices, not giving room to any of the thoughts crossing his mind. of what might happen if his grip on reality slipped (again), if confusing mixed thoughts were all he could express. that's not a conversation for now, and building on what he was saying not a conversation for strike either.

he did not know what to do with the relief he felt at his words as they moved on. huck had left before he'd awoken, smelling of him and wine. warm, still. he did not try to smile, it happened without his input. "good." he said. "good." he would ask him. sometime.

"i suppose it's a conversation we couldn't avoid." he mused, looking away now. he should order more coffee.

"you seem..." he started, this time seeing the looks sent their way. less startled and more curious, knowing. they had been chosen, and by know people had to know their faces. "determined." like he'd taken the mantle right on, respect he had said? samael... he was still trying to make sense of being chosen, called upon once more. fitting, yet not. as confusing as he was perhaps.

"maybe you could tell me some of the things you'd like to fix."

"only if you make it necessary."

without that need to reinforce the difference, the distance, between himself and huck to huck's latest hookup, strike was quite a bit more at ease. not to huck's levels of belly-up softness, but not as hard-set and firm as he was a moment ago.

"like I said. I'll make it clear when it's me. you don't have to worry about mixing us up."

feeling reasserted, strike settled back in his chair. "huck's fine," he offered back, but it fell into a bit of a chuckle. "huck's great. as great as huck can be. but that's for him to say, not me." strike just shook his head and went back to his coffee, looking around at the others in the shop. "I'm even better, with 'all that' out of the way. just ready to get things started. get out there. fix some things."

[lady-of-endless]

"Veiled Intentions" (Hwang In-ho/Player 001/Front man x player!reader)

Summary: No game of cat and mouse ends well.

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who voted for this fic to be done first. I'm happy to provide. He might be a little obsessive, but you should've expected it by now. Don't worry; I got a softer, heartfelt, and angsty fic on the go for tomorrow. Hope you'll enjoy this one until then, darlings!

(Squid Game masterlist here)

Whenever he flashed a smile to the team, no one noticed how the coldness of his eyes was somehow still persistent. The charm of his smile always eclipsed that detail. It was enough to successfully manipulate most players, except for you. The only one who seemed to see the bigger picture was you and he could sense it. No amount of calculated smooth-talking, apparent encouragement, or fake short smiles could trick you too.

The others seemed to accept him easily, either for the calmness that made him seem reliable or for the vital need to have more people with the same vote. Not you, and it was clear to him.

In-ho had a plan going on; he had no intention of wasting time and trying harder to trick you too, letting you do your silent judging. But still, you were slowly becoming more and more present in his mind. You weren't warming up to him, weren't impressed like the others. Why not? More importantly, why did he like it that way? You were smarter and he enjoyed watching you analyzing everyone around, including him. Yes, you were a problem for him, but he was almost proud of having such a fascinating problem to take care of.

In-ho was too good at looking relieved, and joyful whenever the other players from player 456's team made it during the games. You noticed a strange spark in his eyes whenever you also completed the games. Was he really relieved or just glad that with each game he was getting closer to taking care of you personally?

Even now, he was watching you silently when the speakers announced bedtime. You all remembered what was the plan Gi-hun came up with to stay safe and looked around for a lonely bed bunk. Your constant doubt pushed you to come up with a plan to figure him out and now it was the perfect time to strike.

In-ho was ready to make a strategic choice when your voice interrupted his thoughts again.

"Join me?" You asked bluntly, with a warm smile on your face. A fake smile, a reflection of his. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow at your proposal. "For bonding time, getting along." You added, encouragingly, almost playfully, not to stir suspicion in others.

All the other teammates noticed how you kept your distance from him and were glad to see you try to get along.

In-ho almost wanted to chuckle at your reasoning but his expression remained composed. He could tell that you were trying to convince him with your charm and that you only played a role. And he was doing the same.

"Lead the way then." In-ho responded calmly, as always.

In-ho had a small, almost imperceptible smirk on his face the whole time following you, and his eyes were glued to the nape of your neck. How could he ignore you?

You crawled carefully under a bed that was placed closer to a corner no one else chose. A shiver ran down your spine when he joined you effortlessly, making almost no sound at all. The lights dimmed. However, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that the space from under the beds was not enough for two. Both of you were lying down on your backs, staring at the bed from above. His shoulder was pressed against yours, the feeling was impossible to push aside.

You closed your eyes tightly, cursing the tight space and sighing deeply. Why didn't you think this through? In-ho was amused by your frustration and how your body tensed next to his.

"You seemed so sure about this." He teased with a mocking tone he didn't even try to hide.

The way his voice sounded so intimate in the dark and how his warmth surrounded you, were making it hard to stick to the plan. You grew a little hotter under your clothes but you had to go for it. You took a breath in and spoke in a whisper.

"I can see right through your tactics." You said bluntly, still looking at the bed from above to avoid his gaze, knowing how intense it gets sometimes. You were almost proud of the sternness of your tone. "What are your intentions?"

He didn't respond right away, taking time to just look at your expression. In-ho was a meticulous man, he was expecting that question sooner or later from you.

"Wasn't I clear from the start?" In-ho asked calmly, almost innocently, switching his position to lay on his stomach and elbows, never losing sight of you. That position forced you to look up at him, exactly the way he liked it. He was getting too comfortable for someone who was cornered. Seeing how there was no sign of panic or surprise on his face, the previous boost of confidence was starting to slowly diminish in you.

"I think we both know what I mean." You added coldly, letting him know you've had enough of his games. He could feel your patience running thin and he was enjoying it.

Your assumption was true; you were so close to figuring it out but, at the same time, so far away, so clueless about what he really wanted, what he really was capable of. It gave him the freedom of acting anyways he wanted for a little bit.

"Indeed." He said, seeing an opening and moving a hand to the opposite side of your face on the floor, making it look like he was just supporting himself and not caging you. "And that's because you're playing the same games, don't you agree?" He asked smoothly. He watched as you rolled your eyes and looked away to hide your real reaction, taking you longer to respond. In-ho didn't insist, wanting to take his time exposing you bit by bit. When you turned your head back at him to answer, your heart halted, words dying. Your eyes met intimately, his face was even closer than expected.

"It won't work with me." His breath touched your lips. He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear to see your face better. He frowned when he caught himself giving in to his instincts, his fingertips caressing your cheek and stopping on your lower lip without thinking.

"But your tries were..." He added, applying pressure on your sensitive skin and moving his lips even closer to yours slowly. "Entertaining, to say the least."

In-ho watched your expression closely, observing the details of your face in the dark. He couldn't get enough that moment but his face didn't betray any sign of the greed that was coursing through him. So he didn't stop there, using the momentum of your shock.

"Was it fun?" He asked, mercilessly but blissfully tormenting and playing you. "To feel like you had the upper hand?" He whispered while his hand descended to the base of your neck.

In-ho looked at your parted lips again, waiting for your answer and not moving away. There was a storm of conflicted thoughts in your mind and the warmth of his palm on your pulse point was not helping you find a good answer in time.

"Answer me." His grip tightened slightly, his tone smooth yet demanding. "And look at me, darling"

You looked up at him and nodded, admitting silently. Finally, you understood what you got yourself into and felt more than exposed. It was frustrating how easily he switched the roles from being the one interrogated to the one asking whatever he wanted.

You shivered at the sight of his subtle smirk. It was nothing like the bright fake smile he offered to the team. One corner of his lips curled upwards while the rest of his expression remained composed. His eyes glinted with icy, calculated sharpness. Finally, you could see him, whoever he was, and not the simple player 001.

In-ho was studying her, thinking about how you weren't aware of the effect you had on him from how well he was concealing it. Still, none of your questions were answered.

"What are you going to-"

"Hush." He murmured against your lips, cutting your words. "Don't wake the others."

In-ho slowly traced your collarbones through the thin material of the shirt with your player number and placed his whole palm on your chest over your racing heart. He paused, just to feel your heart, taking credit for its hectic beating. The silence that surrounded you was not helping either, you could hear every breath, every move, enhancing the intimate feeling so much you had to remind yourself that you were still in the middle of a sick challenge with daily deadly games.

He looked back into your eyes and spoke softly, seeing your inner conflict, wanting to distract you from it. "I've caught you staring at me so many times."

"I was just spacing out." You whispered, not hesitating this time but still telling him another lie.

Even the always calm, rarely out of character In-ho chuckled at that. It was a pleasant, unfiltered but still strange sound.

"Liar." He said while caressing your hair again but making sure to tug gently at the roots as a warning. "You had so many opportunities to push me away since we got under here." He whispered, almost tenderly, meaning it. His eyes were not locked on yours. Was it because he was letting himself think out loud? "But you don't want to do that..." He added, pausing his touches, giving you time to object. But the truth was that your denial ended with him calling you 'darling'. That waited objection never came and In-ho understood.

With that, he allowed himself to take what he wanted. He thought to himself that it was inevitable. His lips found yours with an unexpected gentleness despite his restrained hunger. The hellhole you were trapped in seemed to fade away with the way his lips explored yours. His fingers tightened possessively against your skin as the kiss deepened. His warmth was embracing you blissfully but his tongue was making you dizzy with each breath he was stealing from you.

After what felt like time, bending to his will, In-ho broke the kiss slowly. Even if you didn't say a word, he still covered your lips with his finger for a moment.

"I'm expecting you to still be smart about this and keep it private." He spoke in your ear, an expectation or a warning. "Do that and you'll be safe no matter what."

What you couldn't understand was that this was a hidden promise. If you kept whatever he gave you a secret for yourself, he would pull all the strings to get you alone with him, away from that game.

[hclluvahctel-a]

Loona tags

[vifilms]

#001. THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT.

❝ ABBY!ANDERSON SERIES ❞

warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: lowkey loser!reader, voyerisum, dub-con, dildo penetration (abby!r), minors hop off my shit, friends to lovers (eventually), nerdy!abby.

....AND THEY WERE ROOMATES, she’s always been just abby to you. best friends and thick as thieves. sweet as can be, breathing shy naivety with ever inhale of oxygen — a walking angel on earth. a gentle remainder of what’s good but looks can be so convincing? can’t they?

you aren’t supposed to be home, but it’s a slow night of bartending, so you’re sent early. pushing yourself into the front door despite your aching muscles, dispensing your keys in the small bowl, before grabbing yourself a cold glass of water. chugging it from the chilled glass, the cool liquid sending a sensation down your throat.

something feels off but you ignore it. 

funneling into your room, discarding your pants along with your tank left only in your undergarments. the tension has been building in your shoulders all night. the overwhelming stress of not making enough tips to cover your rent, classes in the morning, as well as the kink in your neck. you need to relieve yourself from all of it. a feather filled duvet has never looked so inviting, parallel with the vibrator tucked away into your night stand. 

bang! bang! bang! 

what the hell? 

taking a final sip from your water, you venture into the living room grabbing the bat next to your bedroom door. ready to swing, you’re met with silence in the still empty living room. odd. 

bat in your stronghold, your sock clad feet patter up the stairs into your roommate’s area of the apartment when you hear moans. soft, whimpering, moans. was she? no. it’s abby for fucksake. she’s too anxious to talk about sex with others much less fuck with her clit while you’re home. 

but you’re not supposed to be home and you’re intrigued. you shouldn’t be but you are. 

against the hardwood floors, your feet are quiet as you bring yourself closer to her room. her moans are louder, you try to ignore the throbbing of your clit, thighs nudging together as abby sounds like an angel — solely sent for your pleasure. 

the cream door is cracked open halfway and it’s then when you see her. for the first time, it’s all of her. the fucking bat nearly drops to the floor, but you catch it and cradle it to your chest as you take the scene in. 

entranced is the only way to describe it. she had lights, her phone propped up with an additional camera while they filmed the show she so clearly was putting it on. blonde hair cascades down her freckled back, completely bare ass on full display, unknowingly for your greedy eyes. 

you need to look away. she’s your best friend. stop. you’re being a fucking creep but then she’s bouncing on the dildo. 

fucking hell. 

your friend, the one you tease endlessly, the shy nerdy girl who can barely say two words when a pretty girl tries to speak with her is fucking herself on a baby blue dildo and filming it. for the first time, you’re seeing abby differently. it almost pains you. 

exquisite, golden hair shines in the moonlight as her delicious hips roll. she finds a rhythm that’s comfortable letting out a collection of whines and moans. the sound of her slick combined with the headboard hitting the wall over and over due to the power of her weight sends you into a frenzy. you’re thighs have never rubbed together so harshly, trying to satiate a need. if you could, you’d moan for her but the fear of being caught strikes you down but it’s festering within you. 

it’s growing. god, it’s for her only. 

you’re paralyzed with arousal but you need to leave. right fucking now before you cum. pathetically, you think you can just from watching her. abby’s soft voice practically nails your soft palms to the walls, crucifying you with every unspeakable desire. pink lips let them fly, gratifying you and somehow breaking the impenetrable wall between the two of you. 

“cock is so big, s’hard to take all of it.” abby whimpers, arching her back while her palms support her weight as she splits her pussy on the dildo. “yeah, you like that? mmm, love when my pussy swallows you whole, huh?” 

she lays her full cheeks on the mattress, pretty face pushed against the sheets as abby gives her audience a better view. she sounds goddamn breathtaking going nice and slow, her lower lips spreading so beautifully. this deserves to be painted and displayed in art galleries. 

the way she moves, golden strands moving as if she’s controlling every movement. abby anderson is fucking art. nowhere to be found is the shy, nose stuffed in her books, abby. this version of her is so different it’s causing you to see stars. 

moving her hips you didn’t even know was possible. you can’t even process fit her body actually is, the one she hides away. suffocated by thick cable knit sweaters, loose button downs concealing her burling biceps, and the chinos she wears on a daily basis. all of it is more than you can stomach. 

“like looking at my pussy, baby?” abby giggles. fucking giggles. “splitting my pussy open, feel you s’deep, almost in my stomach. yeah?” 

the urge to slip your fingers inside your pussy and touch yourself while she fucks herself is right there but you can seem to do it. settling for pressed thighs and tight grip on bat while you breath heavily. unable to catch on breath. 

“why don’t i spread it for you? give you a better view. after all, im such a sweetheart.” with one free hand, she pulls at the fat of her ass and you nearly choke on the air around you. her puckered hole, the sweet sin of her cunt staring right at you while you salivate. it pools to the floor along with your dignity. 

she leaves the shot there for a moment, letting her viewers tune in to take all of her in before she lets go. the fat of her ass bounces, increasing her speed as she slams over herself on the cock. the audacity of you to never think of her like this because fuck, this is everything. 

you want to be the one fucking her. your fingers pulling at her golden strands, pretty face smudged against the mattress as you take her from behind. a curious mind wonders what she would say to you, how good she would be taking it from behind. molding her strong body into whatever you fucking want. would she let you? 

abby’s voice breaks through the stance she has you under, permitting you of daydreaming any longer. instead, your eyes focus on the way she fucks herself. 

“need to stuff my pussy full, don’t you? s’all you can think about, yeah…i know. making a pretty girl like me cum is your fucking dream.” her back arcs, giving them a better view of her. another piece for everyone to enjoy, you included. 

her voice breaks, irrevocably but abby tries again. “t-this is what you wanted all this time? for me to be your whore? show you how much of a slut i can be?” you feel it in your stomach. the light pressure building as you clench your pussy around nothing, your thighs rubbing together continuously. if she cums, fuck, you won’t be able to control yourself. 

“i’ll do whatever you want. it’s all for you.” you’re fucking lost. abby picks up the pace, the way her hips stutter indicates she’s so close. without even touching yourself, you are too. “no one else can make me feel like this, i—”a low groan leaves her lips, the echoes of her slick invade your senses. jesus christ, you would do anything to taste her. 

abby doesn’t say much until she’s reaching her peak. just loud moans, intoxicating whimpers, and delicious sound of her cunt being fucked again, and again, and again. then you take note of her shakes, beautiful thighs trembling as they fail under the undeniable pleasure coursing through her veins. 

“s’close, gonna cum. fuckfuckfuck!” you see her white, hot cum soak the dildo, white substance spilling over sun-kissed skin, staining the sheets. it’s fucking everywhere. abby doesn’t stop. as if she knows you’re watching and wants to torture you. 

“please come for me baby? mommy needs your cum. gonna give it to me, yeah? i’m your sweet girl after all.” just like that, you lose it. white coated cum covers your boxers, staining you through. you feel every nerve in your body coated in her, begging to be trenched in her touch. 

“yeah? that’s it. s’all mine. just like you, baby. my fucking pussy.” your entire body twitches, clit throbbing at her words. only thing you hear is her heavy breaths slowing down as abby slowly calms herself. 

even when she’s shaking, trembling, she fucks herself through it. you can’t look away. not when she’s made you cum like that. no one’s ever made you cum with voice alone. abby’s soothing tone scratches the surface of the unbridled desire bumbling out of you. now, you’ll be sick until you can have her. is it pathetic? maybe. but your hands are greedy, aching to touch every inch of her body, make her feel whatever she wants. 

you make yourself scarce. the stakes of getting caught too high. shame. the overwhelming feeling almost settles instantly but you find it withering the more you think about the tsunami wave of the orgasm she unknowingly gifted you. 

with every passing moment, each turn in your sleep, you feel guilty for watching for as long as you did. you can’t sleep. always thinking of her. every waking moment is always about her. you’ll never be able to see abby the same. maybe it’ll be your demise or your saving grace. for now, all you can do is welcome the all consuming passion that is her. your dorky best friend and roommate who certainly does know how to fuck.

[nasirofmanderlys]

✯

nasir leaned forward, the flickering firelight casting soft shadows across his face. he clasped his hands together, the gesture less one of prayer and more of grounding. tion’s words were balm and blade alike, yet he found no anger in his chest, only a deep, abiding weariness born of choices long made. “starpike suits him,” nasir echoed softly, letting the truth of it roll over his tongue. his green eyes, sharper now than when they had been boys sparring with wooden swords, sought tion’s, searching not for reassurance, but for understanding.

“happy, you say. that is all i could wish for him.”

he fell silent for a beat, the flicker of the fire mirrored in his thoughts. what i could not give him myself, what i took from him. the burden of his choices lingered, but tion’s affirmation—a salve he hadn’t known he craved—eased the weight, if only slightly. "i do not think any will know of his truth, apart from me and you." and by anyone, he meant anyone; his brother, his sister, even his future wife. such a moment of weakness shamed him, and he would be unable to forget it. zakariya deserved better than the world had afforded him, but at least he now had a place within it. a slight smile ghosted over nasir’s lips.

“you know,” he began, his voice quieter, warmer, “when we were boys, i always thought the weight of leadership would crush us both. yet here you are, worrying over spices and dragons. how far we’ve come.” tion’s unease at the mention of the hightowers did not escape him. nasir’s brow furrowed slightly as he studied his old friend. “the first challenge is always the hardest,” he offered, his voice steady. “but you’ve never lacked the head for it—or the courage. what you call calculated investments, i call the madness of a gambler who always knows when the dice will fall in his favor. and that's you.”

he chuckled softly, but there was sincerity behind his words. nasir knew tion’s brilliance, the shrewdness that had always set him apart. yet, there was something more he needed to say. “you’ll prove yourself, tion. i’ve no doubt of that. and when the hightower mess is untangled, their debts will be yours to leverage.” his gaze turned thoughtful. “as for the dornishman and his spices… it’s good coin, no doubt, but tread carefully. dornish promises are as slippery as sand through your fingers. though."

he paused there, his hand resting upon his jaw as he suddenly remembered something he had seen, simply walking by. a slight smile crossed his features, and he cleared his throat. "are you free to talk now, or do you have another session of torture booked in with the targaryen princess?"

a pensive silence passed between them, the weight and sincerity of nasir's words settling over tion. it was an unexpected balm for him, in some ways. perhaps if he did not know nasir as well as he did, it would be easier to overlook that the topic of conversation was one that was both necessary, and one that dug under his skin, and that made tion feel all the more guilty for confessing his care for his charge.

but in nasir's words, he found something like permission. tion was not the boys father, did not know if it was truly possible to love a child that was not his like a true son, would likely not until he had children of his own, but if it was not, zakariya came close. "for what it's worth," he looked at nasir then, the softness in his tone mirrored in tion's. "you made the right choice for him. starpike suits him well. and i think that he is happy."

he did not know if that would provide any sort of ease for nasir's own conscience, but it should. the boy had been born into a world that would not see him for what he was, but the circumstances that led him to come to be. there was no easy solution, but this way, while not eliminating hardship from his future, would lead to far less of it.

the topic of the hightowers cleared away any lingering gentleness. for the first time, tion looked a little uneasy. "it is the first challenge i've to face, clearing up the consequences of the dead one's sticky fingers." the first chance to prove the choice to appoint tion was a sound one, and the first opportunity to mismanage it spectacularly. tion had a head for figures, a talent for spotting the opportunity to make coin, and the sensibility to know when it was necessary to spend it. he knew he was right for the position, but should he misstep here, any chance he had to prove that, to cement his rise and stamp his legacy into the court of roses would be gone.

it went without saying - when house manderly had need of them, house peake would answer. still, tion nodded. "whatever you need of me is yours." he'd never been one for empty promises - when tion made a pledge, he kept to his word. a chuckle escaped him, then, leaning back in his chair and letting his head fall backwards, too, until his gaze was upon the ceiling. "you say grand schemes. i say calculated investments. but," he corrected his posture then, sitting up straight once more. "met a dornishman in lannisport who's agreed to send me some spices and wine. it'll be harder to get, while they're fighting dragons."

[fanbasetwo]

Loser boyfriend Park Gun Wook head canons, please.

LOSER BF GUNWOOK HEADCANONS!!

NOTE FROM SENA , wrote this last minute so it might not be perfect but yeah—hope you enjoy this anon MASTERLIST!!

join my taglist by sending an ask or commenting here <3

001. SFW SECTION

LOSER BOYFRIEND GUNWOOK ! who sends you about fifteen texts in a row if you don't reply to him in ten minutes, ranging from “did you fall asleep?” to “are you mad at me?” to “fine, I'll leave you alone... unless you reply now.”

LOSER BOYFRIEND GUNWOOK ! who loves hugging you randomly, especially from behind, burying his face in your neck and whining about how he missed you.

LOSER BOYFRIEND GUNWOOK ! who tries to kiss you in the middle of the street, then panics if anyone sees and insists, “we need to move. someone’s judging us!”

LOSER BOYFRIEND GUNWOOK ! who once tried to cook a romantic dinner for you and accidentally set off the fire alarm. You ended up eating instant noodles together while laughing until your stomach hurt.

LOSER BOYFRIEND GUNWOOK ! who playfully “competes” with your pet for your attention, saying things like, “Why is p/n getting more cuddles than me? I thought I was your baby!”

LOSER BOYFRIEND GUNWOOK ! who spends weeks planning the “perfect” gift, only to get so nervous that he blurts, “I didn’t know if you’d like it, but here’s... a coupon for unlimited hugs?”

LOSER BOYFRIEND GUNWOOK ! who sings cheesy love songs to you at karaoke but immediately hides his face in your shoulder from embarrassment after.

LOSER BOYFRIEND GUNWOOK ! who thinks he’s the hero when he picks you up bridal style. Will make a big show of it, pretending to struggle (even though he’s strong) to make you laugh.

LOSER BOYFRIEND GUNWOOK ! who despite his tough-guy physique, he runs to you like an overexcited golden retriever whenever you show up unexpectedly.

002. NSFW SECTION

LOSER BOYFRIEND GUNWOOK ! who’s a total cuddler and always wants to spoon after sex, even if you're both sweaty and sticky. He nuzzles your neck and tells you how much he loves you.

LOSER BOYFRIEND GUNWOOK ! who’s a bit of a boob guy and always wants to play with your tits. He calls them his “stress balls” and likes to squeeze them.

LOSER BOYFRIEND GUNWOOK ! who’s a bit of a sweet tooth and always wants to feed you chocolate during foreplay. He thinks it's sexy to lick it off your body.

LOSER BOYFRIEND GUNWOOK ! who is always so excited to see you naked that he gets an instant boner. His cock springs to attention the second your clothes come off.

LOSER BOYFRIEND GUNWOOK ! who is a bit of a squirter. When he cums, it sprays everywhere in a messy, sticky stream. He always apologizes for the mess afterwards.

LOSER BOYFRIEND GUNWOOK ! who is a growler. During sex, he lets out these adorable little grunts and groans. It's almost like he's communicating with you telepathically.

LOSER BOYFRIEND GUNWOOK ! who is a fan of quickies. He always wants to bend you over and fuck you hard and fast whenever the urge strikes.

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