This Is My First Sangwoo Fanfic I've Ever Read And AHHH GURLL U DO NOT DISSAPOINT I LOVE IT SO SO MUCHHHH
This is my first sangwoo fanfic I've ever read and AHHH GURLL U DO NOT DISSAPOINT I LOVE IT SO SO MUCHHHH I LOVE YOUR WORKS AND BLOGS MWA MWA CHEIFS KISS
BLACKEST DAY
pairing: cho sangwoo x fem reader
summary: old feelings are rekindled when you encounter your father's old friend at the games.
warnings: age gap (reader is 20, sangwoo is 46) badly written smut, face slapping, slightly toxic dynamics, a smidge of some age-gap kink. lots of angst. body worship. this is a oneshot.
word count: around 5k
[feedback and reblogs are a writer's biggest motivation.]
MASTERLIST
life has a funny way of reuniting people.
when you woke up in the hall, surrounded by strangers wearing those ugly green clothes much like yourself, your first thought was— 'i should have brought someone with me.'
you were always rather wary of doing things by yourself. things seem much easier when you have a helping hand to give you advice, or to make bad decisions together.
your first shock came upon the mention of his name, taken by one of the guards.
player 218, cho sangwoo.
your eyes snapped up to the screen where you could see a clip of him getting slapped after repeatedly losing the game.
"former supervisor of team two at joy investments, embezzled money from his clients, invested it in derivatives and figures and failed. current loss, 650 million won."
you looked around frantically before you caught sight of him— handsome as ever, although visibly distraught. his shocked eyes were looking at the guards with a mix of anger and embarrassment.
you had known sangwoo since you were rather young. idolized him at one point, even. he and your father used to be some sort of business partners— which you can guess was another word for friends who gambled and hung out occasionally. most of your years went by with him acknowledging you politely, getting you chocolate everytime he came to visit, and patting your head with a proud smile whenever your parents told him about one of your achievements at school. you wanted to be like him— smart, ambitious and a hard worker.
you'd moved off for college when you were of age, and according to his mother, he had moved to the US for business purposes.
which, as you can see, didn't work out.
you don't really try to make conversation with him, don't even look at his side of the room. mainly because you're embarrassed. there are two reasons— the first being that you don't want to see the man you idolized at a place like this. and the second is personal. your last memory of him isn't something you're fond of. it still fills you with resentment and a sense of sadness— you had asked to meet up with him before you were going off to college, hoping to express your feelings. you'd developed a childish crush on him when you were growing up, and it had expanded into genuine feelings over time.
but he never showed up, and you were left sitting in the expensive restaurant all by yourself. you never revealed that to anyone, deciding to take that moment of humiliation to the grave.
the first game was terrifying, to say the least. while you could tell there was something inherently shady about the whole organization, what left you in genuine shock was the first shot that rang out through the field, killing the person who moved. you were careful about your steps then, walking forward rather meticulously, ensuring you were not a victim in whatever hellhole you've found yourself in.
splatters of blood covered your face as you almost reached the line, hiding behind another taller man. there were a mere 10 seconds left. your heart was quite literally trying to beat out of your chest, and sweat dripped down your forehead. and that's when you first made eye contact with him.
sangwoo, who was bent in half, was panting as he looked at the finish line. his gaze rose, and connected with yours— eyes immediately widening with recognition. you were frozen as you looked at him, jaw clenched and panic stricken. he looked at the timer, and the doll turned away. you quickly began running, and you saw him straighten up as the timer began nearing zero. you jumped across the finish line, and his hand grabbed you to help. you stumbled into him and the both of you fell onto the dusty ground— a mess of sweaty limbs.
you don't say a word to him as the guards guide you back to the hall. he is just as silent behind you, and you wonder if it's because he's embarrassed about being there, or if he remembered what he did to you and is reluctant to acknowledge you after.
"i didn't expect to see you here." he remarks quietly, voice grim. his head is lowered, and there's an almost disappointed look in his eyes.
the audacity.
"i could say the same about you," you shoot back dryly, sitting cross legged on the floor. he looks at you then, and your gaze challenged his.
"you've grown since i last saw you." he adds, and you scoff in response. so what? you were still bitter.
"it's just two years."
he clenches his jaw and looks away, his ears feeling hot. you've always had a problem with keeping your mouth shut, and apparently it still applies. you look up at him, eyes accusatory.
"i thought you went to the states." there's a taunting edge to your voice— rather shallow and childish on your end, but you can't help yourself. you're playing with life and death, but still you're angrier about your history with him than anything else.
"all those degrees just to scam people? i'd expect more from someone like you, mr. sangwoo—"
"you don't know what you're talking about," he shuts your words down quickly, voice firm. he's quick to change the topic, visibly agitated. "i thought you went to college. what happened to your—"
"father?" you interrupt, sitting straighter. "he got scammed."
you look at him pointedly as you say the last word, and his eye twitches.
"he gambled away his money on some non existent race. i dont live with him anymore and i need money to continue college and pay rent. my mom doesn't know and i don't wanna worry her." you take a sharp breath, voice getting lower, "my landlady threw me out before i found the ddakji guy."
his face softens with every sentence, an expression close to pity taking over. you hate pity, so you shut it down with a glare.
"don't give me that look," you sigh with exhaustion, running a hand down your face.
"i'm sorry to hear that," he says quietly, avoiding your eyes. he blinks a few times, adjusts his glasses. he doesn't know what else to say, and he's almost glad for the interruption when the staff walks in and announces the results of the first game.
it's so sudden how people begin to beg for their lives— kneeling before the guards, pleading to be spared. it makes you feel sorry and disgusted at the same time— you can understand why they'd do so, but you can't imagine kneeling before an organisation like this in any way. you value your dignity.
when the gunshot rings out to silence the begging crowd, the guard announces the second clause of the contract: a player who refuses to play will be terminated.
your head snaps up at the sound of sangwoo's confident voice.
"clause three of the consent form—" he steps forward, "the games may be terminated upon a majority vote."
the guard nods, "that is correct."
"then," he looks around, and his eyes fall on you. he looks away, and cocks his head to the side, "let us take a vote."
you almost feel that sense of admiration for him once again— he was always smart, that you can admit. more attentive than others, better at remembering little details. he's stepping forward to directly challenge these guards while people are begging for their lives. he's brave, like he's always been.
you fall in line beside him, and he looks down at you. you give him a slight nod, before your attention is diverted to the next announcement. the staff then show the money accumulated by the deaths of the previous player— 100 million won for each. as the massive piggy bank hanging from the ceiling glows, you can feel him stiffen at the mere sight of the money.
and the voting starts. your number comes soon enough— player 420.
you don't hesitate.
this money is not more important than your life. you need to consider all your options— you're not confident that you would make it till the end. and you don't want to fucking die yet.
you press the cross, and fall into the crowd.
sangwoo's number comes a while after— and you watch him like a hawk. you know he's a smart guy who knows better than to put himself in a compromising situation. you hope he'll help you go home.
until he presses the 'O.'
you feel utterly betrayed once again and he goes to his side of the crowd, not looking at you even once. you scoff to yourself, baffled by his audacity, before redirecting your focus to the voting counter. you start hoping your side wins purely out of spite.
player 001 presses X. your side erupts into cheers and you let out a breath of relief, glancing at sangwoo who stands frozen with his head lowered.
you don't remember much after.
the car ride feels suffocating— everything is dark. there's shuffling before you feel yourself being shoved, and you let out a yelp as your bare skin hits the gravel. "ouch— fuck!"
you hear your name— and recognise the voice.
"mister sangwoo?" you gasp, and hear a pained 'yes'. you can feel a cloth wrapped around your eyes, and your hands and legs are tied. you groan, shifting and writhing on the ground, impatiently trying to free yourself. you feel teeth on the front of your wrists before your hands are released.
you sit up quickly and snatch the cloth off your eyes. you turn to sangwoo then, and quickly untie his wrists. he grunts before sitting up, and the two of you untie your legs.
"shit, it's cold—" you hiss, quickly standing up. those bastards had only left you in a plain white sports bra and underwear. he was naked as well save for a pair of white boxers. the sight makes your skin feel hot, and you take a greedy but discreet glance at his chest before rushing towards your jeans and hoodie that are tossed to the side of the road, quickly getting dressed.
you clear your throat and turn around, only to see him quickly looking away from you, his clothes still in his hands. your eyes narrow knowingly and he wordlessly gets dressed, buttoning up his white shirt.
"are we still in seoul?" you ask, and he clears his throat, adjusting his glasses before looking up towards the buildings. he nods, and you shiver slightly.
he turns to you and hesitates before moving forward to put his grey blazer over you. you raise your eyebrows in question, and he doesn't respond before checking his pockets.
"are you hungry?" he asks, and almost comically in that same moment your stomach growls. he holds back a smile, and you wrap his blazer tighter around yourself.
you rest your head against the table while you wait. you can feel it pounding, but the smell of hot ramen tempts you to raise it. he takes a seat beside you and places the steaming bowl in front of you.
"do you have the money for this?" you cant help but ask.
"dont worry about it," he says with a wave of his hand, bringing out his chopsticks to eat. you decide to leave the job of worrying to him and get to eating.
you're a rather slow eater, and he doesn't complain. he steps out of the store, and you can see his back as he takes out a cigarette. you slurp up the rest of your food and follow him out.
"i don't feel that cold anymore," you hand him his blazer, and he turns to look at you. you're thankful about your self control, because he is a sight. so devilishly handsome even after witnessing such horrors— his cigarette teasingly hanging off his lips, the smoke wafting up and making his eyes squint just a little. his glasses make him look so much more sophisticated, or perhaps you have a thing for nerdy looking men. you're not a smoker, but he makes it look so good. if you were a weaker woman, you would've gasped. no wonder half of your childhood went by with that barely disguised crush on him— no wonder no guy your age back in college seemed good enough.
you clear your throat, bring yourself back to earth and continue. "you can have it. thank you."
he takes the blazer with a nod and puts it on. takes another puff of the cigarette, and watches you look around.
"i thought you'd come back with an american wife." you almost cringe at your own words. but conversation is conversation, you don't know how else to start. it's a discreet way to find out his relationship status, if any.
"marriage is the last thing on my mind." he responds quietly, taking a puff. you look at the side of his face, and his eyes stare at the road in front of him— thoughtful. you wonder what he's thinking about.
"where will you go?" he asks without looking at you.
you shrug, "i don't know."
"do you have any money?"
you pause, suddenly feeling a sense of dread. you have no money, and what little you got from the ddakji guy, you spent on your rent. which got you thrown out anyway.
your silence speaks volumes. he tosses the cigarette to the floor and stomps on it. you sigh.
"i don't have any money."
"come with me," he looks at you, gaze intense and serious. "i have enough for the both of us. atleast for a few days till we can figure things out."
"why?" you cross your arms over your chest almost defensively, eyes narrowing with suspicion.
he grits his teeth as he glares at you, mouth twitching. he looks away then, tonguing the inside of his cheek before returning your gaze. "you have nowhere else to go. it wouldn't be responsible to leave you alone like this."
you almost scoff— the words on the tip of your tongue. but you were okay with leaving me alone back then? but you don't say it, not yet, because you could use his financial help right now. you sigh, before nodding, and gesturing forward.
"fine, lead the way."
the motel he takes you to looks respectable enough. you look around, eyeing the plain decor. the man behind the counter looks at the two of you, and then gives sangwoo a toothy grin, which immediately alerts you.
"only one room available."
sangwoo doesn't protest. he doesn't have the finances to get two separate rooms either. he opens the room and you go in first, looking around. there's a single bed and some flashy lights, and it makes you roll your eyes. you turn around to settle him with a pointed look.
"it's better than i thought," he grunts, taking his blazer off as he takes in the scene. he steps forward and drags a finger down the side table, examines the dust it leaves on his skin with mild disgust.
you bite your lower lip as you watch him— his shirt stretching across his chest, his hair falling messily across his forehead. his glasses resting delicately on the bridge of his nose.
fucking nerd.
his gaze snaps up to you and that's when you realize you'd said that out loud. you wince, looking away and he straightens up, blinking innocently.
"you're still upset with me."
you cross your arms over your chest as you sit on the bed. you quirk an eyebrow, and he cocks his head to the side, eyeing you from a respectable distance.
you decide to play dumb.
"about what?"
he's not amused. he stares at you, expression serious and intense, "i didn't plan to stand you up that day."
so we're going straight to it, you think.
"then why did you?" you snap, unable to hold back the hurt from your voice, "i waited for an hour. you never came. i wanted to talk to you."
"i know." he nods. he walks up to you then, stands at the foot of the bed. "i know what you wanted to talk to me about. i was scared."
you freeze, looking at him cautiously, your heartbeat rising. "scared?"
"i knew you had feelings for me." he sighs, sitting down beside you. his voice is hushed, making the moment feel more intimate than you'd like. "i could tell that's what you wanted to talk to me about. it terrified me."
your breath feels like it's knocked out of your lungs. you swallow the lump in your throat, holding back the tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. "did anyone ever tell you that you're an asshole?"
he grunts, takes out another cigarette. he lights it up and takes a long drag— taking his time to respond.
"many people," he says, blowing some smoke through his nostrils. the sight almost makes your mouth water, but you ignore it.
"you're a dick," you shoot back dryly.
"what i am—" he points his cigarette at you, "— is too old for you. surely you didn't think it was a good idea?"
"you could've rejected me instead," you chuckle bitterly, "but you decided to leave me there to look stupid."
"you were too young." his voice is low, and his response almost makes you want to strangle him. he dusts some ash off his cigarette, adjusts his glasses, and looks at you with an intensity that makes your skin feel hot. "i couldn't keep you happy even if i wanted to."
you frown, gritting your teeth. he looks away.
"you looked at me like i hung the moon and the stars." he continues, looking ahead at the wall, gaze distant. "i couldn't maintain those expectations. we were in two completely different stages. you were meant to go to college, study well, get a good job, a boy your age—"
"stop talking like you're my father," you snap before he can finish, standing up. there's heat behind your glare and you almost laugh at his expression, "i had no expectations from you. so stop with your- your little— excuses. what's done is done, right? you've stood me up once, no need to reject me by wording it smartly. i don't wanna be with you anymore anyway."
that was a lie. you just hoped he couldn't see through your act. you're riled up because you're still affected by him, and his polite behaviour is driving you insane— you want to tear away at his walls, expose the passion he hides behind his smart guy facade. you know it because you've seen it in the way his eyes light up when he talks about his ambitions— how willing he is to cross any line to achieve what he wants. you want to butcher his self control and unleash the animal underneath, the one he's so desperate to hide. it's what made you fall for him in the first place.
he merely looks at you boredly, taking another drag of his cigarette. you snatch it off him, bring it to your own lips. he looks at you with mild shock as you take a drag, and you blow the smoke out on his face.
it all goes smoothly until you cough, and he's snatching the cigarette away again, watching you almost amusedly.
"you can't even handle a cigarette," he remarks dryly, putting it out on the bedframe. and that one line finally ticks you off. almost as if on instinct, your hand pulls back and delivers a sharp slap to his face— making it turn to the side. he snorts, adjusts his glasses again before he looks at you, unimpressed.
"you've been waiting to do that, haven't you?" he asks. your nostrils flare with anger. you can't hurt him physically— but your tongue is sharp. you'll use it.
"you're one to talk about different stages in life," you add, leaning towards him. a smirk curls upon your face, "look at you. all that ambition and experience only to end up scamming people."
out of the need to provoke him, your hand shoots out, jabbing a finger to his chest.
"how would your mother feel if she found out?"
it's a low blow, and you would be ashamed if it hadn't worked. it does its work to finally get to him. he grabs your wrist, and harshly pulls you down towards him, knocking your breath out. he shoves you on the bed and hovers over you, panting slightly. you chuckle.
"my life is hard enough," he hisses sharply, body trembling with concealed rage. his gaze drifts down to your lips before settling upon your eyes again. "do you really want to keep testing me?"
you can't help but smile smugly as you stare at him. there he is— almost on the verge of losing his composure. a few more quips and you're sure he'll crumble. it makes your skin feel tingly. your face leans up slightly, your hungry gaze drifting down to his lips. your hand reaches up, pries his glasses off his face. and then you flick his nose.
"fuck you."
the way his mouth comes crashing onto yours is animalistic. he desperately kisses you with the passion of a madman— his tongue entering your mouth and messily colliding with your own. as if to tease him, you bite his bottom lip sharply and he pulls back, eyes widening as a small trickle of blood falls down the corner of his mouth. his hand pulls back and strikes you across the face, and you can't help but laugh. your cheek stings and feels like it's burning— and you're addicted. you hope he'll do it again. you look back at him with an almost crazed look in your eyes, and you can see it finally dawn upon him that he's finally giving you exactly what you wanted.
"you're enjoying this too much, you little minx—" he hisses, grabbing your neck and kissing you again. your hands immediately reach up to his shirt, fumbling with the buttons as you try to keep up with his pace. he pulls away and tosses his shirt to the side, and you take that opportunity to use all your strength to flip the two of you around so he's the one on his back. it makes him gasp, and you look down at him with darkened eyes— a finger teasingly running down his chest, making him let out a shudder.
he's the object of all your desires for as long as you've ever known. the man of your dreams, the man that you kept comparing every single one of your college boys to. no wonder they never seemed good enough. how could they? they were no match for this beautiful man laying under you.
with a newfound vigour your head drops to his neck, licking and kissing every inch of his skin. your hungry mouth trails down his chest, breathing in the smell of him, leaving greedy bites in its wake. the sounds your actions evoke out of him are downright pornographic— soft, breathless groans that make you want to consume him entirely. his hand comes down to your head, holding you in place as you worship his body— and you moan when his fingers dig into your scalp.
your lips leave a wet trail and cherry red bites down his torso, until you reach the waistband of his pants. teasingly, you mouth at his bulge, making him hiss in return. his hips buck up slightly and you place a soft kiss to the material before leaning up to his face. his hands wrap around your waist and he flips the two of you over again, desperately tearing away at your clothes.
"i shouldn't be doing this," he mutters under his breath, talking more so to himself than you. you raise your hips and he pulls your jeans down, a throaty groan escaping him at the sight of your panties. they're almost transparent from how wet you are. he frees himself from the confines of his underwear and you watch with fascination as he holds you down with a hand on your stomach. you're panting when he's pushing them to the side and entering you immediately— making you scream from the stretch.
he clenches his jaw, squeezes his eyes shut as he buries himself to the hilt with a grunt. you choke on a pained sob, your fingers digging into his back as he grabs the side of your face.
"it hurts—" you hiss through gritted teeth, a tear running down your cheek. it burns, and he waits a second before wordlessly pulling back and thrusting again. the pain morphs into pleasure soon enough, and you whine as he falls into an easy rhythm, wrapping your legs around his waist. you whine in return, and he gives your cheek a light slap, prompting you to open your eyes. your breath hitches as he looks at you intensely— his own eyes glassy.
"not that young now am i?" you grit out with a glare, crying out as he retaliates with a harsh, pointed thrust. "y-you're my first—"
"fuck," he moans, his head dropping down to your chest. his thrusts get quicker, voice raspy and low, "don't— don't say that—"
"i always wanted you to take my virginity," you moan, throwing your head back, dragging your nails down his back. it makes him hiss, "ever since i was a—"
he slams his hand on your mouth, refusing to allow you to finish your sentence. "shut the fuck up."
he doesn't want to be reminded of the age difference between you two, even though you can tell it gets him hot. the moment his hand clasps over your mouth, you cum with a loud moan. your body trembles but he keeps going— not allowing you a moment to breathe. his eyes are full of rage as he bares his teeth in anger. you chuckle breathlessly against his hand, your eyes fluttering. he looks like an angry cat— you want to kiss him all over his face. his thrusts eventually get sloppy— he's close.
you lock your legs tightly around his waist, and he smacks you again. it surprises you this time, and he takes that opportunity to pull out, jerking himself off quickly.
"i can't afford taking risks," he grunts, clenching his jaw. you whine in response, pouting slightly, and he gives you an exasperated glare before he's cumming all over your stomach with a shaky groan.
you pant heavily as you come down from your high, and almost as if on fire— he quickly dresses himself. he pulls out a handkerchief from his blazer pocket, gently wipes off the fluids on your stomach. he just watches you on the bed— his eyes examining his handiwork. you notice his gaze lingers on your cheek. after a few minutes, he wordlessly gets up and goes to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. you roll your eyes as you pull up your jeans too. a few moments pass, and you breathe a puff of air through your nostrils.
"are we going to talk about this?" you call out. there's no answer. you get up and rush to the bathroom door, except he's locked it. you can hear light splashing of water. you scoff in disbelief, going back to the bed. you lay on your side and grab a pillow, your lips wobbling as you go over everything that happened.
this was not how it was supposed to go. he was not supposed to seem this detached. you'd expected atleast a cuddle after sex.
you don't realize when you fall asleep. it's morning when you wake up— sunlight streaming in through the window and directly onto your face, making you wince. you stretch, look over your shoulder.
sangwoo isn't there.
you immediately go to the bathroom. it's empty, though the tub is full. you frown in confusion before turning back to the bed. there, a note on the side table has you stopping.
'i'm sorry,' it said, in his handwriting. placed along with it were a few won bills.
you sniffle as you stare at the note— the writing on it almost mocking you. you crumple it up, your fist shaking as you resist the urge to cry. suddenly, there's a knock on the door, and it makes your entire body stiffen.
a card slides from the little space under the door. the same one you remember the ddakji guy giving you. the shapes on it just look sinister now. the number on it is different this time.
your breathing gets heavy as you stare at it— your head beginning to hurt. you're sure you can hear your ears ringing.
you're alone. you wonder if leaving in the first place was a mistake. your feelings are conflicted— and worst of all, you feel used and betrayed. you're not sure if you should go back to the games. you're not sure if you could survive without any money.
sangwoo had left. you don't know where he is and you have nowhere else to go. no home, and you don't know how you would face your mother. you don't know how long the money he left you could go on.
you don't want to die. but you can't keep living like this either. you bite your bottom lip as you contemplate your options, the hurt from sangwoo's departure still lingering in your chest like a stab wound.
you pick up the card and place the call.
tags: @movienerd3000 @testdrivethv @leebyunghunswifey @nerdybarbariancupcake @neganhore @k1ra-park3r @vivdolls @wab-i @stantwicr @creativerambling @yasmim-1007 @makethemgirlsgoloco @jamiewritesfanfiction-blog @captaincarmel416 @warlabels @ferrarifinnick @smlbch @izzyyann @meheheasasa @poooopy @endlessfl4mes @selfishlittlebeing @pillowtalk6 @antiromanticbaby @sky-forts-and-burning-citadels @flow33didontsmoke
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AHHHH THE FIRST STORM SHADOW FIC I LOVEE AHH THIS IS AMAZINGG FINALLYYYY
Into Death's Arms
Pairing: Storm Shadow x reader Words: 1231 Summary: You and Storm Shadow have been meeting in secret despite being on opposite sides. One night, he arrives wounded at your doorstep, forcing you to confront the feelings you've been trying to suppress.
The night air was thick with the scent of rain-soaked earth, the streets dimly lit by flickering lanterns. You quickly entered and locked the doors to your small hideout. You had barely stepped inside when a faint rustling caught your ear. Your hand instinctively reached for the blade strapped to your thigh, muscles tensing. Quietly opening the door to the room, you peeked around and saw someone sitting in one of the chairs. You unsheathed your blade and were about to attack when the figure rose from the chair and turned toward you.
Storm Shadow.
His usually pristine white uniform was stained crimson, and his breathing was ragged. He tried to stand straight, gripping his side, trying and failing to mask his pain.
You took a deep breath and put your blade back into its sheath, stepping forward without hesitation. “You’re hurt,” you whispered softly.
"It’s nothing," he muttered, his voice strained. But as he took a step, his knees buckled. You caught him before he collapsed, sitting him back in the chair. "Don’t move.” Your tone left no room for argument, and to your surprise, he obeyed.
You moved quickly, fetching a first-aid kit from the old cabinet and a basin of water from the kitchen. Kneeling beside him, you carefully peeled back the fabric of his torn uniform, revealing the deep gash on his side. He winced but remained silent, watching you work.
"You shouldn’t be here," you murmured as you pressed a cloth against the wound. "If they find out…” You left your sentence unfinished. Being a spy for the Joes, you were well aware of the consequences you would have to face if they knew about your complicated relationship with him.
"I had nowhere else to go," he admitted, his voice softer now. "I knew you'd help.”
He was right. You would never turn him away. You swallowed hard, hands trembling for reasons that had nothing to do with stitching up a wound. The two of you had been meeting in the shadows for months now — stealing glances at each other, and spending moments that neither of you dared to name. You were supposed to be enemies. But the way he looked at you now, even though his expression was pained, made it clear that lines had already been crossed.
"This is dangerous," you whispered, finishing the last stitch. "Every time you come to me, you're risking everything. Neither of us can afford to be caught. Besides, Snake Eyes knows about this safe house of mine. We cannot risk him walking in on us.”
His fingers brushed your wrist, stopping you mid-motion. "And yet, I keep coming back." Your breath hitched. His eyes, usually sharp and unreadable, softened as he gazed into your soul. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words. Then, against all reason, you let yourself lean in. And for once, he didn’t pull away.
After taking a deep breath to regain his composure, he leaned forward and gently but firmly pressed his lips to yours. There was no war, no conflict, no missions to finish, no opponents to battle, and for a moment, everything else vanished into the background, just the two of you existed for this brief period of calm.
When you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. You withdrew and took a look at his wound which looked gnarly even after being stitched.
“You need proper treatment for this.” His eyes darted to his wound and he rolled his eyes. Pulling his torn garment back over it, he sat straight. “This is nothing. I’ve had worse.”
“You were one hour away from seeing your intestines dangle. Seriously, go to a hospital.” He shook his head, kissed your cheek quickly, and got up. You put the bloodied cloth and the first-aid aside and got up after him. “Surely you don’t plan on leaving right now? It is so late. Stay here for tonight.”
For a long moment, he didn't answer. His gaze was distant as he gathered his sword and shuriken.
"I can't," he finally said, his voice strained. You knew he would say that. It was never safe for him to stay there. But you couldn’t help but wish he would stay.
You didn’t know what came over you but you walked over to him and grabbed his wrist. “Please. Please stay. Just for tonight”, your voice came out as a whisper.
He exhaled, shoulders relaxing as if the world's weight had momentarily lifted from them. His fingers curled slightly around your wrist now, hesitant yet steady. It was a small gesture, but it sent warmth through your chest.
“Alright. But only for tonight. I’ll leave before dawn.” You nodded your head quickly. A smile made its way to his lips as he wrapped his other arm around your waist. You pulled away and gestured toward the water basin and dirty cloth. “I’ll clean up. You need to change clothes. I think I have some of your old ones in that locker over there.” He nodded and put his weapons back on the table. As he got changed, you quickly cleaned the room and made room for him in the bed. This was the first time he was staying and you did not want to inconvenience him at all.
He walked into your bedroom, which only had a bed, a small table, and a locker. He stood near the foot of the bed, arms crossed. "You should rest," you murmured, breaking the silence.
His lips twitched slightly. "You’re the one who should rest. You always worry too much."
You huffed, rolling your eyes. "I’m not the one who nearly collapsed in my room."
"Touche." There was the faintest trace of amusement in his voice, a ghost of a smirk playing at his lips. He walked over to the right side of the bed and you had to restrain yourself not to shout at him for taking your side of the bed. He sat down on the bed and you helped him lie back. As he settled in, you took a seat beside him, resting your hand on his forehead.
His eyes found yours and he held your other hand in his. "Thank you."
"For what?" you asked, brushing the strands of stray hair from his forehead.
"For being here. My actions are not easy to come to terms with and yet…”
“And yet here you are and yet here I am.” You reached out, letting your fingers brush over his hand. He didn't pull away. If anything, he shifted slightly closer, his warmth radiating through the space between you.
Then, before you could overthink it, you leaned in. Close enough that his breath fanned across your lips. For a moment, he stayed perfectly still, as if caught between hesitation and surrender. And then he closed the distance.
His lips were warm against yours yet he was hesitant. But when you didn’t pull away, when your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, he pressed in deeper, letting himself sink into the kiss.
He pulled back slightly and gave you a warm, genuine smile. "You should really stop letting me in”, he exhaled softly.
You smiled back at him. "Then you should stop coming back."
Neither of you moved. Neither of you meant it. Whatever the future held, this moment was yours. And for tonight, that was enough.
random thought but… stepdad!König fucking reader after finding out they wanna be in a relationship with him and saying “I’m going to marry you” or “I’ll make you mine one day” or smth like that. 🤭 and dbf!Horangi just kinda agreeing with him while sandwiching reader from the back, already having an idea of being the husband’s best friend that fucks his wifey 💝💝💝
—🎀—
Gah- that pink bow has my heart😵💫 cw: smut, STEPCEST, DUB-CON, creampie, sex marathon?, phone sex? Double penetration, p in v, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cheating, marriage, tell me if I missed any.
For a second, he forgot how to breathe, his knees weak and fingers twitching, his cheeks flushed with the joy he felt. Your little confession riled him up, your sweet tears and pout gave him the hardest erection he’d ever lived. Sweet, innocent words that would’ve seemed blasphemous to any other, sounded erotic, making his blood boil and arousal simmer under his skin. It worked through his body with tight and rushing pleasure, pumping blood down to his engorged cock and heavy balls.
“I want you,” sealed the deal, commanding his body to pound you into your bed, make you forget you ever had a life without him - he promised it.
And promised he did, he fucked you all day, pressing you down on your bed, folding you in half as keened loudly. The bed creaked and the wooden headboard slamming into the wall behind it with every rock of his hips, fingers gripping your soft bedsheets and toes curling over his shoulder. You were stuck beneath him until the time he knew your mother would be back, taking every moment he had to watch his cock push in you and back out with a ring of cum and slick around his thick cock.
At first, he took you alone, slamming into your while you mewled out, your sweet sounds reaching the hungry ears of your neighbour on the phone. König had called Horangi in a blur, his mirth infectious, making Horangi happy, chuckling out praises to you and giving his word that he’d come by after his exercise at the gym. Your stepdad kept his friend on the phone, the Korean wearing EarPods during his whole course, working out with his cock throbbing and pushing against his shorts.
An hour in, waking up after you passed out in pleasure, eyes rolled to the back of your head in white pleasure, Horangi made himself home, naked and kneeling between your thighs. You let out a surprised moan, back arching when he drove his tongue inside your twitching hole, his thumb rolling your sensitive clit. He took his take taking you apart, watching you flay and cream all over him, covering is face with slick.
Near delirious and body oversensitive, you felt them push into you, softly alternating between both cocks stuffing your stretched cunt. You were trapped between them, body pushed back and fourth, feeling them fill you up, bottoming out, balls slapping the other man, pulling out to the tip and slamming back in. You bucked your hips, chasing their cocks, nails digging into Horangi’s shoulder, gasping and moaning with your legs spread open by König’s hands.
“I’ll marry you, ja, Schatz?” König growled, pumping you full of cum, womb stuffed full with his and Horangi’s charged load. “Breed you and make you mine.”
“Fuck, I can’t wait to suck your tits,” Horangi couldn’t stop himself from agreeing, mind conjuring every image of your swollen stomach and wobbling walk. “Drink your sweet milk.”
“Do you want that, Schnucki?”
All you could do was nod, throat sore from screaming and body limp in your stepfather’s arms, your eyes were heavy chest puffing with loud, exhausted breaths. You liked their idea, marrying, breeding, becoming theirs, perhaps their delusions finally got to you.
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly
I MISS MY MANNNN
But fr I love when it's a pregnancy trope of sorts
Come to bed, Jagi.
~{A oneshot where you are In-Ho’s wife, you didn’t end up passing away, but the baby did. You had a liver transplant. But In-Ho was already in the games to pay off the medical bills. He was offered the position of Frontman. You both take to the island 1 month a year. Reader is pregnant again, and In-Ho is horrified to let you roam the complex. You are 6 months along.}~
♪♪ ~{Jupiter ~ Flower Face}~ ♪♪
~{No mention of Y/N}~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Go back to your quarters. Frontman’s orders.” The head security officer growled. Blocking you from exiting the main control room. The square on his face seemingly taunting you as you pouted. The bed you and your husband shared had been cold and empty for days. You were sick of it. The screen in the suite had only shown the games, nothing else, only short glimpses of your In-ho.
“I don’t care. I want to see my husband.” You speak, anger present in your tone as you weave around him to the screens. You knew something was happening, you could hear faint gunshots from your shared suite. You caressed your stomach, feeling light kicking from the little girl. Your frustration must have made her upset too, judging by her constant kicking. Peering through the several different cameras upon the monitor, you spot him, and the baby’s kicking subsides.
Lost in the purple maze outside the very room you stood, you saw your sweet husband, with two others. He signaled them forward and looked towards the camera. A blank, but authoritative expression gracing his face. Butterflies arising in your chest at his smooth features blessing your eyes once more. He moved forward before you heard a few deafening gunshots nearby. Flipping through the cameras, he had just dropped his radio; but you could hear him over the other guards walkie’s.
“Wrap things up.” His voice husky from barking orders for this ‘rebellion’. You sighed in relief, hearing footsteps towards the control room door. Two guards held his frontman suit, prepared for his entry, but you stood only for him. And after a few seconds of rocking yourself in the cold room, holding your stomach for comfort, you heard the hissing of door opening. Meeting his eyes, he looked shocked and concerned.
“What are you doing down here? You should be up in bed, Jagi.” He questioned worriedly, slipping his leather gloves on, holding your face.
“I missed you… So did she…” You whine, holding your stomach more exaggeratedly. A little kick was felt, as In-ho sighed, placing his hand upon your exposed stomach.
“Please, Jagi- Go back to our room. I’ll be back in 20. I promise.” Slipping into his pants and shoes, not bothering to take off his track outfit, just throwing the rest over. The head of security handed him his mask, as he slipped on his jacket. You whine, sweat beading down your face and neck from frustration and anxiety. The liquid seeping into the pink button up sitting over your swollen belly. “For me-“ He pecked your cheek before donning his mask.
“Be careful please.” You said to him, as he turned away. Nodding, In-ho signaled the head to take you, and you groaned to yourself. You knew damn well it wouldn’t be 20 minutes. He would come back and sit in front of the wall of screens, making sure everything was in place while you lie in the cold bed once more. As the guard escorted you back to the room, you heard one final gunshot.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It had been 2 hours. You knew he was watching those damned screens. Tempted, you pull yourself up from the black, leather loveseat in front of the TV with a huff to go get your husband. Slipping on a pair of outdoor slippers, and grabbing his jacket. You step into the elevator at the back of the black hallway and descend.
When the elevator doors slid open, In-ho was just where you thought he was, watching the screen intently. The man he had told you he was monitoring was there. Gi-hun, you remembered. He was sobbing and rocking himself in his bed, his friends who were left surrounding and comforting him. With a sigh, you walk to your husband.
“Come back, dear. It’s been longer than you said.” You mumbled, putting your hand on his shoulder and laying your head upon it. The rough fabric grounding you. He paid no mind, only wrapping his arm around your waist as he continued to observe. “He’s not going anywhere, everyone’s on high alert, yeah?”
In-ho let out an anxious sigh, turning his head slightly to look at you. “Yes… I’m afraid he will try again, though.”
“He has to grieve. He won’t try again tonight. Please, let’s just go. I miss you.” Pleading with him, your hormones high thanks to the baby. Tears prick at your eyes from the emotions. You tug slightly at his jacket as his resolve crumbles. Grumbling, he pulls out his talkie.
“Keep watch all night. I’ve got business.” He turns it off, turning with you in tow to the elevator. “Let’s go, dear.” Arriving back at the suite, you were all over him. Kissing his face, hugging him and whispering sweet words to him while dragging him to the bathroom. Starting the tap, you helped undress your husband.
Each scar was traced softly by fingers. Bullet wounds, knife marks, and more. He unbuttoned the pink pajama shirt you wore, admiring your bloated pregnant belly, caressing it. He kissed your forehead before you both sank into the warm water. “I missed you too, Jagi.” In-ho spoke softly behind you, kissing the back of your head. You lay back, kissing his cheek as he grabs a soap bottle and a cloth.
“You’ve been busy- no, hun.” You order, taking the items from him, pouring and lathering soap onto the cloth. Cleaning him, he doesn’t take the smitten look off his face, eyes locked onto your focused being. You carefully cleaned him, cautious around his sensitive scars. When you finished, you started washing his hair. You were putting spikes into it, making yourself giggle, and making him look at you with a happy, but annoyed face.
He took his turn next, calloused hands roaming softly as he cleaned. He lathered you head gently, and let your conditioner sit. Turning around, you cuddled into him, the smell of cinnamon and roses filling the foggy room. Short little lines were babbled between the two of you as he rinsed the conditioner from your hair, and stood from the bath with a groan. You sat there as the water drained, watching your husband wrap himself in a towel. Eventually he stands you up, and wraps you in a towel.
The two of you finish your nightly routines, relishing these beginning moments of being with each other once more. You dress in airy clothes and stare at yourself, your sweet In-ho behind you, making your shared bed. You look at yourself tired eyes, swollen ankles and large stomach. Little did you know, In-ho was looking at you with the most love ridden eyes. Admiring every curve and bend, especially with your pregnancy. He found you exceptionally attractive.
“Come to bed, Jagi.” He asks, making your ears perk at his voice. His pupils basically being hearts, with them floating above his head too. You oblige, lying next to him, and he brought you both under. Immediately he was hugging you so close, you thought you would merge into him, to become one. “I missed you so much. I didn’t want to leave you here alone.” He admitted, holding you close, stroking your hair and stomach. “I was so worried someone would get you during that rebellion.” He whispered, seemingly to himself. Burrowing into his chest, you whine that it’s okay.
“I’m safe, I’m here. You’re here too. I think it’s time to sleep though.” You say, slightly muffled. He chuckles. “It will keep you distracted.” You say, slightly drifting out. “Goodnight, dear.”
“Goodnight, Jagi.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PLEASE MORE EUNHYUK SMUT FIC I BEG I NEED MOREE (っ´▽｀)っ
AAAAAAAA URE TAKING REQUEST??? 🥹 one for eunhyeok pls, just a sweet fluff(or an nsfw if ure okay with that) i miss him sm, u can do anything with it i’ll take anything 🤲🏼
i literally am in love with eunhyuk so how about...fluffy smut 😍 thank you for requesting 🫶
— so beautiful
lee eunhyuk (sweet home) x gn!afab!reader
genre: smut
summary: eunhyuk comes home from a rough day at work, knowing he's been distant and not noticing your needs, and all he wants is you
warnings: language, nsfw, praise, soft sex, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex
minors do not interact
the second eunhyuk walked through the door, you heard a long sigh from the walkway entrance. you knew eunyoo was gone doing something, whatever it is she did whenever she was out of the apartment, so thankfully you two had the place to yourself.
"jagiya," eunhyuk called out once he slid his shoes off his feet.
"in the bedroom!" you responded, putting down the book you were reading as you sat on the bed.
eunhyuk walked through the bedroom door and a small smile immediately lit up on his face upon seeing you on the bed. he took his flannel off and tossed it on the ground next to the bed before he crawled into the bed next to you, his arms quickly wrapping around you and putting his face in the crook of your neck.
a short chuckle came from your lips at his actions, one of your hands playing with his hair. "rough day at work?"
"mhm," he hummed, nodding his head slightly.
a comfortable silence filled the room and just when you thought eunhyuk was going to get up, he started to leave little kisses on your neck. they started out light and soft, but soon enough he was biting down on your skin, with your own teeth between your bottom lip as you struggled out words.
"what're you doing?"
eunhyuk pulled away from your neck, looking down at you and seeing the blush on your face made him smile a bit. "i thought maybe we could spend some time together, since eunyoo is gone and we have the place to ourselves," he answered, his hands holding your hips.
"are you sure? what if she comes back?" you questioned worriedly.
"you know when she's gone it's for hours, we'll be fine," eunhyuk replied, his hands starting to trail down to the hem of your shorts. "i know i've been distant lately, and i want to make it up to you."
his words were true, he had been being distant with things seemingly getting worse at his job, but you would never admit you were getting needy because of it. however, it was obvious by how your hips jerked upwards when hyuk's fingers grabbed your shorts and slowly started to pull them down.
eunhyuk noticed, obviously. he was coming home either so late or so early that he would immediately fall asleep as soon as he hit the bed, leaving you to attempt to make yourself feel good, but it wasn't the same. which is why he was so grateful when his boss said he could leave a little early, so he could spend time with you.
he pulled down both your shorts and underwear, then spreading your legs apart with his hands, seeing how wet you were. "all this for me? i've hardly done anything yet," he said almost teasingly.
you were unable to come up with a response, too embarrassed by how aroused you were just by him finally giving you the attention you needed, only to be interrupted by a moan leaving your lips when he started to circle your clit with his thumb.
his other fingers were dragging up and down your slit, collecting your slick on his digits, his eyes peering at you before he inserted a finger suddenly, making you let out a louder moan than the last. your hips bucked upward again, and eunhyuk used his free hand to hold you down, slowly starting to push his finger in and out of you.
"hyuk," you whined, your hands gripping the bedding beneath you.
"mm?" he hummed, looking at you with a teasing smile. he loved watching you unravel before him, he adored the way your face contorted in pleasure every time he made a movement, he could stay here for hours if he could. "you look so pretty like this," he said, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before slipping in another finger and picking up his pace.
you writhed around under him, moans leaving your lips freely and without any care of others possibly hearing through the thin walls of the complex. his hand held you down from your hips bucking upwards, and your back arched when he curled his fingers inside of you. "fuck- don't stop, p-please- oh my god."
eunhyuk watched you with a small smirk on his face, his fingers thrusting in and out of you at a quick pace, and just when you were about to cum, he pulled his hand away. you let out a loud whine and opened your eyes to look at him, seeing him undo his belt and take off his jeans and boxers in one swift motion and immediately hovering over you again.
he moved some of your hair from your face, kissing your forehead before slowly slipping inside of you. he let out a low groan as he sheathed himself all the way inside, putting his face in your neck again, his warm breath hitting your skin. your arms wrapped around his neck as he started to thrust into you, little whimpers coming from you right into his ear.
"fuck," he sighed into your skin, his hands grabbing your waist in a tight grip. "it's like you were made to take my cock, baby." he began to pick up his pace, leaving crescent moon shapes in your skin from how tight he was holding you.
"hyuk," you moaned loudly, eyes squeezing shut and clawing at his back. you couldn't help the noises coming from you, it just felt too good for you to even think about being quiet.
"so good for me, just for me," eunhyuk mumbled, leaving kisses and bites on your neck. "i love you so much, baby. you're so beautiful taking my cock so well."
you writhed around under him, whining at his words feeling the knot in your stomach building up higher and higher towards release. "do-don't stop, please- fuck! hyuk please please." your nails scratched at his back.
he used his free hand to reach down and start rubbing your clit in quick circles, smiling into your neck at your moans getting louder. "so good, baby. you're doing so good, fuck."
one particular thrust of his hips had your eyes rolling back, your back arching up against him as you tried to speak. "c-close, fuck- hyuk please please."
"cum for me, baby," he told you before kissing you deeply.
moaning into his mouth, your legs shook and convulsed as you came around his cock, your nails digging into his skin. he pulled out of you and immediately laid down beside you.
"you okay?" he asked softly.
you nodded your head as a response, rolling onto your side and cuddling next to him while leaning your head on his chest. he grabbed the blanket and pulled it over the two of you, glancing down at you and kissing your head.
"i love you," he said quietly.
"i love you too," you replied in the same voice.
older boyfriend!aizawa who spoils you rotten. who treats you like his princess, who always knows what to say to you and how to say it. he’s the best you’ve ever had, he’s patient and kind and boy is he hot.
older boyfriend!aizawa who looks and feels like a man. who’s so fucking yummy in the early mornings, getting up with untamed hair and half moon eyes, his stubble thicker, his happy trail showing as his shirt lifts up while he stretches. his hands are rough and big, yet his touch feels like heaven - and every time he grazes you, you think you’ve found religion at his hands.
older boyfriend!aizawa who doesn’t care how tired he is or how horrible his day has been, he will always fuck the stress out of you if needed, or eat you out so achingly slow and good that you forget all your problems at his touch.
older boyfriend!aizawa who strokes your head and runs his fingers through your hair while he’s talking to you, attentively listening to anything and everything you have to say.
older boyfriend!aizawa who loves to get out of bed in the morning to you making him breakfast. mostly to fuck you on the kitchen table, though. (you’re the only meal he needs anyway)
older boyfriend!aizawa who lets you crawl into his lap whenever you want. he’s grading assignments? he’s doing work things on his laptop? he’s reading? he doesn’t care. his lap is the only seat you need.
older boyfriend!aizawa who loves to look you in the eyes while he fucks you.
older boyfriend!aizawa who especially loves to gaze into your tear-stricken eyes while you choke on his cock. you’re just so pretty, he can’t help it. you’re so good. and you’re all his. and he fucking loves it.
older boyfriend! aizawa who’s the man of my dreams !!!!
@yamsfrecklvs
FINALLYYY MOREE IN HOL FANFICC 😍
Possession~Hwang In-Ho
The tension in the air was oppressive. The sound of rapid footsteps, the desperate screams of the participants, everything seemed destined to lead you to death. But there was one thing that gave you a sense of security amidst the chaos: him. Hwang In-ho. You knew him as player number 001, but no one, not even you, suspected he was the leader of it all. The Frontman.
He had taken you under his protective wing from the very first day, without you truly understanding why. He seemed like any other man, yet there was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite decipher. He never seemed threatening; on the contrary, his calmness and presence made you feel safer than you had ever imagined. He reassured you with a soft voice that always seemed to be at the right moment: "Don’t worry, I’ll stay by your side."
You couldn’t help but trust him. It was as if he had a power that put you at ease, that gave you hope. Every time the games became more violent and fear spread, he was there, always discreet, always ready to intervene when the situation became too dangerous. He protected you as if you were the only thing he truly cared about.
In the middle of one of the most dangerous trials, when your heart was pounding in your chest and your mind tried to stay clear, you found him beside you. His gaze had become more intense, but there was no fear in his eyes. Only cold determination, a will to see you out of this game. "Stay calm," he whispered, as his eyes carefully scanned you. He never asked you to do anything you didn’t want to do, but it always seemed like he had control of the situation.
No one, not even you, knew who he truly was. The Frontman, the mysterious leader who controlled all the games, was hidden behind a mask, but no one seemed to suspect that it was him playing among you. You only saw the man who protected you, who watched over you, but never as a prisoner. He made you feel special, different from the others, as if you had a place apart in his dark world.
The truth, however, was that you were becoming his obsession. Every time someone else came near you, when someone tried to talk to you or protect you, he intervened. There was no room for anyone else in his vision. You felt safe, but something inside you began to wonder what he had in mind, why he was protecting you with such determination.
Night had come and your group was taking shifts and it was Gi hun's turn. You were sleeping sweetly in In-ho's arms. He was watching over you silently, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him. He had a possessive air around him as he watched you sleep, his gaze fixed on your face. His fingers traced the outline of your face, almost as if he was trying to remember every detail of your features.
In-ho's eyes were half-closed, but his mind was wide awake. There was a quiet determination in his expression, a cold certainty that he needed to protect you. He was aware of every noise around him, every small movement in the room.
You murmur softly and move closer to him, hiding your face in his chest. “In-ho” you murmur sleepily. He smiles slightly when he hears you murmuring his name. He pulls you closer to him, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back. He loved the way you said his name, so soft and sleepy, as if you felt safe with him.
"That's right, it's me," he whispers, his lips resting against your forehead. "I'm here, sweetheart." He pulls you even closer to him, his body wrapped around yours protectively. He nuzzled his face against your hair, inhaling your scent. He loved how you felt in his arms, how you were so trusting and vulnerable. He couldn't help but feel possessive and protective of you, as if you were something he had to keep for himself."Sleep, love," he whispers, his lips right next to your ear. "I'll keep you safe."
You nod and cling to him like a koala trying to be as close as possible. He chuckles softly, amused by the way you were clinging to him. He adjusts his position to allow you to get even closer to him, his arms encircling you tightly.
He can feel your heartbeat against his chest, the rhythm of your breaths. He brings one hand up to brush gently through your hair, his touch tender and yet possessive. He wants to hold you like this forever, to keep you safe and his. He closes his eyes for a moment, just savoring the feel of you in his arms. It was a feeling like nothing else, a comfort that he hadn't felt in a long time.
In-Ho could feel himself getting more and more possessive, the thought of anyone else touching or even coming near you made him feel strangely territorial. "You’re mine," he whispers softly. "All mine."
He had made up his mind. You were his, and he would do whatever it took to keep you with him. He was aware that you didn't know the truth about him, but he couldn't care less. Once you found out the truth, he knew he would have to keep you by his side.
His hands ran over your body, possessive and protective at the same time, but also loving. He couldn't help but think how he would do anything and everything to keep you.
No comment just HEHEHEHEHWHMWHWHAHWHW
I’m actually tweaking out I love this so much 😭
UNDER YOUR SPELL.
word count: 4,329 (someone got a little carried away...)
pairing: in-ho x you.
summary: you haunt in-ho’s every thought, an obsession he can’t shake no matter how hard he tries—you have no idea the hold you have on him. when you get drunk for the first time, in-ho seizes the opportunity to show you just how deeply you’ve affected him.
cw: 18+, age-gap, dubcon (forced intoxication), mirror sex, first time, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, stomach bulge, semi-public sex, dirty talk, corruption, manipulation
a/n: i’ve had this plot simmering in my head over the past few days ever since i wrote my in-ho hcs and it was practically begging to be written … manipulative in-ho my beloved
---
Ever since he first laid eyes on you, In-ho thought you were the prettiest little angel to ever step foot in this hellhole.
You were nothing like the others. Kind, wide doe eyes, sweet smile that radiated innocence. He wondered how a pretty thing like you had ended up in a place like this. In-ho always did pride himself in his appreciation for the arts, all things with beauty. The moment he took notice of you, it didn’t take long for him to wonder what it would take to make you his.
You had joined a small group, after having met a kind man named Jung-bae who graciously let you in. Everyone shared their names, and that’s when you learned his. Oh Young-il. Except, of course, that wasn’t his real name. Just a guise, a character to play during the time he spent amongst the players. That didn’t matter, though, since you rarely used his name.
“Sir,” you’d say. The times you did call his name, it’d be “Mister Young-il.”
The first time you spoke to him, you were nervous. It was hard not to be, something about his piercing gaze had a hold on you. Yet, you couldn’t help but admire him. The way you looked up at him, your voice so soft and deferential, made his pulse quicken. He’d do anything to protect you, and he did. Each time the games forced you apart, you’d come running to him the moment you returned to the main hall, your face lighting up with relief.
“I’m so happy you’re okay, sir.” You’d smile at him, and he’d smile back, gentle and reassuring.
You hadn’t realized it, but your attachment to him was carefully orchestrated, a product of all the high-risk situations In-ho would engineer to put you through. He’d swoop in at the perfect moment to save you, it made you trust him, made you depend on him more than anyone else. It also nurtured the little crush you were already dewasveloping, and he noticed. You couldn’t help it. He kind to you, protective, and so devastatingly handsome.
Behind the scenes, he dug through your file. Orphaned from a young age, too naive to understand the world’s cruelties. Trusting the wrong people, you had fallen into debt, landing here. The more he learned, the more he was convinced—You needed someone to take care of you. Someone like him.
One night, In-ho just couldn’t take it anymore. After hours of keeping up his cold, calculated facade, he found himself teetering on the edge of his own sanity. The stress of orchestrating the games was always a burden he bore in silence. But lately? It wasn’t just the carnage and strategy that weighed on his mind. On top of all that, now there was you. Every stolen glance, every soft word you uttered, every moment in your presence had burrowed under his skin. You consumed him, invading every thought until there was no room for anything else.
He knew he was losing control.
When the last murmurs of conversation faded throughout the main hall and the players around him drifted into an uneasy sleep, he finally gave in to his impulses. He had a guard sneak him a bottle of soju, not caring how inappropriate or risky the request was. Rank had its privileges, and he wasn’t above abusing them.
Even in the dim light he spotted you, laid in your bed not too far from his own. All curled up and completely unaware of the monster disguised as your guardian angel watching over you. He swallowed thickly, his jaw clenching as he tried to steady his breathing.
He listened to the sound of your breathing as a guide, the quiet rhythm of inhale and exhale filling his ears before finally pulling the bottle from its hiding place beneath his pillow. With a sharp twist, he uncapped it, the faint scent of alcohol wafting into the air around him. Sitting up in his bunk, he took a long, deliberate swig. The burn of the soju as it slid down his throat was a welcome distraction, albeit temporary. He exhaled, running a hand through his disheveled hair.
The alcohol dulled the edges of his stress but sharpened something far more dangerous, far sicker. Desire. Thoughts of you came to surface before he could resist, vivid and unrelenting. He thought of your wide, trusting eyes looking up at him, the way your voice wavered when you spoke his name. He didn’t stop his thoughts when they turned more and more depraved. Your quiet utters of his name turning into obscene moans, innocent brushes of skin escalating into him fucking you like a madman into the crummy bed he sat beneath. The way you clung to him, so innocent, so naive, so completely unaware of just how sick his thoughts would turn because of you.
He took another long swig, his grip tightening around the bottle as his frustration intensified. How could you do this to him without even realizing? Without even trying? It was maddening, the hold you had over him. And now, with the liquor loosening his usually taut held control, he found himself wondering how much longer he could resist. How much longer he could keep his hands to himself.
And then, as if summoned by his desires, your voice broke the silence.
“Sir?”
He turned to see you turned towards him, rubbing your eyes like a sleepy child. He softened instantly, smiling lazily as he called your name. “You’re awake?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” You climbed up to his bed without hesitation, settling beside him. “What about you?”
“Me neither,” he murmured. He thanked whatever god there was that you couldn’t read his mind, couldn’t take a peek into the sick fantasies that had clouded up his thoughts just moments ago. Even now, when sat face to face with you, they played in the background— like a channel he couldn’t turn off no matter how hard he’d press the remote. Only, he didn’t make much effort in stopping them. If anything, the fantasies only shot up with you now in front of him.
Your attention was soon drawn to the green bottle in his hand. “Is that… soju?”
He chuckled at your amazement. “It is.”
“Wow,” you breathed. “I’ve never had any before.”
His heart skipped. You really were too good to be true, weren’t you? He feigned surprise. “Never?”
You shook your head. “No. But..” You hesitated for a bit. “I’d like to try, if that’s okay.”
How polite. How trusting. He handed the bottle to you, hiding his smirk beneath a kind, patient smile. “Of course. Go ahead.”
You took it with both hands, your fingers brushing his briefly. There was a moment of hesitation, a fleeting glance at him as though you were silently asking for reassurance. He gave you a small nod, his expression warm and encouraging. Uttey deceptive. The thought of getting you completely wasted, rendering you impossibly dumber and even more impressionable than you already are rang like music to his ears. You tilted your head back as you gulped down more than he expected. He didn’t stop you, though. Simply watching with quiet satisfaction as you drained a sizable amount.
The first sip had your nose scrunching up, the bitter taste of the alcohol overhwleming you. Instead of backing out, you pressed on, curiosity and his approving gaze egging you on. With each gulp, you felt your body tense slightly at the unaccustomed burn that slid down your throat.
In-ho watched you intently, his dark eyes locked on you as the bottle tipped higher and higher. You were drinking far more than he expected, but he made no effort to stop you. Instead, he leaned back slightly, his lips quirking into a faint smile. Quiet satisfaction flickered in his eyes as he watched your determination to please him override your inexperience.
When you finally lowered the bottle, your lips were shiny from the liquid, your cheeks already beginning to flush, something In-ho was quick to take notice of. Whether it be your inexperience, the quickness of which you downed the Soju or the fact that you haven’t really drank or ate much prior. The alcohol had hit you harder than you anticipated, working its way through your system with worrying speed. Your head tilted back slightly as you tried to regain focus, blinking up at him with worried, glassy eyes.
“Sir,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “I feel…so funny.”
He stepped closer, his hand moving to steady you by your waist when your knees buckled slightly. “Funny how, sweetheart?” he humored you, the concern in his tone carefully crafted.
“Dizzy,” You clung to him instinctively, your hands gripping his arm like a lifeline as you specified. “I feel lightheaded, mister Young-il. M’scared.”
“Shh,” he murmured, pulling you closer against his chest. His hand slid to your back, rubbing soothing circles as he held you steady. “It’s okay. You’re just not used to it, s’all.”
Your forehead rested against his chest, your breath uneven as you tried to make sense of the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. He tilted his head slightly, looking down at you with something twisted in his gaze, though his voice remained tender and reassuring. “Poor baby,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. His hand stroked your hair, the sound of his words soothing you. “I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.”
You were too drunk to notice the dark glint in his eyes or the way his smile lingered just a little too long. Too naive to realize how tightly his grip held you, as though he’d never let go.
Young-il led you to the bathroom, steadying you with a firm grip as you clung to him for balance. Every touch, every reassuring glance he gave you was planned down to the last detail, feeding into the web he’d been weaving since the moment he first laid eyes on you. You were his perfect little pawn, and now, more than ever, he could see his plan falling into place.
When he knocked on the bathroom door, you were already bracing yourself for the usual bargaining and desperate pleading that so often accompanied requests to use the facilities. But to your surprise, the guards let you both pass without hesitation, a testament to the sway your knight in shining armor seemed to hold.
He guided you inside, shutting the door behind you with a quiet click. Leading you to the sink, he turned on the faucet, letting the cool water rush out. “Here,” he said softly, his voice calm and soothing. “Let’s wash your face. It’ll help.”
You nodded, leaning over the sink and splashing the water onto your flushed cheeks. The cold sting sent a brief jolt through you, though it did little to clear the fog in your mind. When you blinked your eyes open and straightened, you nearly jumped at the sight of him standing right behind you, close enough that you could feel his presence like a weight against your back.
Your wide-eyed gaze flicked up to the mirror. He stood there, his expression as unreadable as ever, but the intensity in his eyes made your stomach twist. Despite yourself, you wiped your face with your sleeve and offered him a sheepish smile.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked, stepping closer. His hand brushed your damp hair back from your face, the gesture tender in a way that made your breath hitch.
“Good,” you mumbled, though the truth was far from it. The alcohol swirled in your system, leaving you dizzier than before. But the way he touched you, the way he looked at you, it sent a warmth through your chest that was impossible to ignore.
“Yeah?” he hummed, his tone low and velvety, each syllable wrapping around you like a shackle. You hadn’t even noticed how close he’d gotten until now, his chest pressing lightly against your back.
Your breath hitched as something firm brushed against you from behind, and you let out a small, involuntary whimper. “Sir Young-il…?”
“In-ho,” he rasped, cutting you off. “My real name, it’s In-ho.” His voice had dropped even lower, and there was something raw and possessive in the way he said it. You blinked, confused, his real name rolling off your tongue before you could even think twice to question him.
“In-ho,” you repeated softly, as if testing the weight of it. “What’s going on?”
His lips curved into a faint smile, his hands settling firmly on your waist. “Don’t worry, baby,” he whispered, his eyes meeting yours through the mirror. “I’ll take good care of you. You trust me, don’t you?”
You nodded too quickly, too eagerly, the alcohol and your long-brewing crush on him clouding your better judgment. “I trust you,” you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Good girl,” he murmured, his grip tightening slightly as he trailed his fingers along your waist, his touch deliberate and possessive.
He leaned in, closing the already small gap between you two as his lips found yours in a kiss—the first one you’d ever shared. Admittedly, it wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined it to unfold. You pictured your first kiss with a high school crush, maybe some boy your age who’d take you out on an innocent date. But all those dreams faded the moment you met In-ho, and now, all dreams you had were consumed by him.
You pressed against him, letting him take control as his kiss deepened, hungry and intense, like a man starved for more. You followed his lead instinctively, trusting him—because you always knew, deep down, he knew what was best. So when he raised his fingers to your lips, you hesitated for only a moment before parting them, allowing him to slip two fingers inside. His dark eyes gleamed as you sucked obediently, your cheeks flushing deeper under his watchful gaze. A low, guttural sound escaped his throat, and his breathing grew heavier.
Pulling his fingers away, he wasted no time in hooking them into the waistband of your sweatpants, tugging them down in one hasty motion. His lips found the curve of your jaw, trailing kisses up to your ear as his right hand skimmed the sensitive skin of your neck.
You grabbed his wrist suddenly, your touch light and hesitant. “Wait, In-ho—” you murmured, your voice trembling with embarrassment. His dark eyes met yours in the mirror, his expression softening ever so slightly.
“I… I’ve never done anything like this before,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
He wasn’t surprised; he had suspected as much. But hearing it from you, seeing the vulnerability in your gaze—only stoked the fire burning within him.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his voice deceptively gentle, though there was an unmistakable tension in his tone.
You shook your head quickly, biting your lip. “I trust you. Just… be gentle. Please.”
He smiled at that, a flicker of something darker hidden beneath the curve of his lips. “Of course,” he murmured, his hands resuming their slow exploration. But in his mind, he knew the truth: restraint was never his strong suit. Especially when it came to you.
And with you—so soft, so eager, so completely his, he doubted he could hold himself back for long.
His fingers, still slick with your saliva, trailed down to your entrance, brushing over it with deliberate precision. The touch made you jolt, a shiver running up your spine as you gasped. In-ho groaned low in his throat, his eyes fixed on your reflection in the mirror. “Fucking dripping,” he mused, his voice a sinful rasp. Slowly, he slid a finger inside, the intrusion making your thighs instinctively part.
A soft moan escaped your lips as he pressed deeper, his touch firm but unhurried. This wasn’t the first time you’d felt something like this, but the last time had been your own doing—fumbling, desperate, and entirely unremarkable. That had been just days ago, tucked away in one of these very bathroom stalls, shamefully thinking of him. Now, with his hands where yours had been, the stark difference had you feeling light-headed.
His fingers were thicker, rougher, impossibly skilled. The sensation left you trembling, your legs threatening to give out as he worked you open. His other arm snaked around your upper chest, holding you close, his grip firm yet possessive. The position bordered on a chokehold, but instead of fear, it only sent another wave of heat coursing through you.
Your breath hitched as a soft, broken “Ohmygod,” fell from your lips. He didn’t pause, didn’t falter. His finger curled just right, hitting a spot that made you see stars. Your hands gripped on In-ho’s forearm, knuckles white as you bit down hard on your lower lip, trying and failing to stifle your moans.
“You okay, sweetheart?” His voice was like velvet, roughened by desire. He pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck. His other hand released its hold on your chest as it moved lower, settling on the curve of your ass. He squeezed firmly, eliciting a high-pitched mewl from you.
You nodded weakly, barely able to form words. “Uh-huh… feels so good, sir,”
That made him chuckle, a deep, dark sound that reverberated through your body. The honorific sent a thrill down his spine, his cock straining against the confines of his sweatpants.
“You’re ready,” he murmured, almost to himself, as he pulled back just enough to tug his waistband down. You glanced over your shoulder, eyes wide as you took him in, the sight was intimidating, your head reeling.
"In-ho, I–I don’t think I can take that." Your voice faltered, a hint of shame creeping into your words. He laughed, a sound so familiar it sent a chill down your spine. It was the kind of hearty laugh you'd grown so used to hearing from him. But now, there was something different—something darker layered beneath it, like a cruel mockery. "Course you can, angel," he said, his tone smooth but laced with an unsettling edge. "I know you can. Let me take care of you."
“H-Here? Like this?” you asked, your voice small and unsure, referring to the state he had you in—bent over the sink and in front of the mirror. utterly at his mercy.
He leaned in, his hand gripping your chin and forcing your gaze back at your reflection. “Right here,” he confirmed, his voice a low growl. Want you to watch yourself while I’m fucking you open.”
The vulgarity of his words sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively arching for him. You nodded, too dazed and drunk to do anything else, and he didn’t waste another second.
He slid inside slowly, the stretch making you cry out and grip the sink tighter. The initial sting was sharp, but it quickly gave way to something deeper, something so intense it left you gasping. Your legs wobbled beneath you, and you leaned harder against the sink for support.
“In-ho… In-ho,” you whimpered, his name falling from your lips like a chant. “Sir… I— I feel you in my stomach.”
The confession had him groaning, a sound so guttural it made your knees weak. “Yeah? Fuck, baby.” He babbled as he moved closer, his body pressing against yours as his hand trailed down with deliberate slowness. When his palm flattened against your stomach, his fingers brushing over the faint outline of him inside you, your breath hitched.
“Feel that?” he murmured, his composure slipping as he began to move. His hips snapped against yours, each thrust deliberate and punishing. You nodded frantically, a whimper escaping as he pressed down, sending a shockwave through your body. “In-ho, nngh!—“
You were completely out of it, your thoughts a tangled haze, your body slack and pliant in his hands. The alcohol coursing through your veins had stripped away every layer of hesitation, leaving you wide open to his manipulations. And In-ho, oh, he reveled in it. The way your voice slurred when you called his name, the way your movements were unsteady, dependent on him for every step and touch—it all fueled his sick delight. You were better than he could’ve ever imagined.
As he pulled you closer, pressing into you from behind, your gaze flicked to the bathroom door, a flicker of worry breaking through your drunken stupor. “In-ho…” you mewled, voice soft as you felt your body jerk with each rough thrust he made.. “What if–ah!—someone walks in?”
He paused, his hands resting possessively on your hips, a smile ghosting across his lips. “Don’t worry about that,” he said, his voice low and soothing, though there was an unmistakable edge of amusement in his tone. “The guards won’t come.” His confidence sent a shiver through you, but you weren’t entirely convinced. “But… but what if another player—”
“No one’s going to interrupt us,” he said firmly, his dark eyes boring into yours before you could finish your sentence. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror. “You’re with me. They wouldn’t dare.”
Something about the absolute certainty, the power in his voice—had your anxiety ebbing away, replaced by a strange sense of safety. You nodded slowly, leaning into his touch, your inhibitions melting once again under his spell.
“You trust me, don’t you, sweetheart?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.
“Mmhm,” You squeaked out through laboured breaths.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered, his hands sliding down to grip your waist, pulling you back against him. He watched your reflection as his fingers dug into your soft flesh, relishing the way you gasped and arched into his touch.
Your head lolled slightly, your body swaying under his hold. “Mmmh…I feel so dizzy,” you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper.
In-ho chuckled darkly, his hands moving to steady you. “That’s just the soju, sweetheart,” he said, though he didn’t bother hiding the smirk on his face. “You’re doing so well for me.”
He loved seeing you like this. Drunk, vulnerable, completely at his mercy. Every soft whimper, every stumble, every little movement that showed how completely you relied on him only fueled his desire. You were his, whether you realized it or not.
As his fingers grazed your skin, he couldn’t resist pushing you further, testing your reactions as he pushed your buttons. “You know,” he murmured, his lips ghosting along the curve of your neck, “Y’look so pretty like this. All fucked out and needy. Just for me.”
You let out a soft, breathy laugh, pressed against him. “Y-you think so?”
“I know so,” he replied, his voice a velvety purr. His hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming. “Just look at yourself, baby. See how perfect you are for me?”
Your hazy eyes flicked to the mirror, taking in the sight of the two of you. His dark, piercing gaze met yours, his expression raw and predatory. The way he looked at you—it was almost too much. Your cheeks burned, and you averted your eyes, biting your lip.
He wasn’t having that. His hand left your waist, fingers gently gripping your chin and turning your face back toward the mirror. “No,” he said firmly. “I want you to watch. Watch yourself while I take care of you.”
The authority in his voice sent a thrill through you, your body trembling as you nodded weakly. “O-okay—ah, fuck!”
“Atta girl,” he chuckled, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk.
As his hands roamed lower, teasing and exploring, you couldn’t help the soft, breathless moans that spilled from your lips. Every touch, every word, every look from him pulled you deeper into the fog of your drunken desire, leaving you utterly helpless in his grasp.
And In-ho? He wouldn’t have it any other way.
The room filled with the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin, your muffled cries, and his filthy murmurs. “Thaat’s it, there’s my pretty girl.” His hand tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back, his lips brushing against your ear. “Fucking take it. Just like that.”
Every thrust sent you higher, the alcohol in your system amplifying every sensation, every nerve alight with pleasure. Your mind was fogged, the world around you turning into nothing but a senseless blur. And yet, you felt every little sensation In-ho fed you, each rough snap of his hips driving you closer and closer to the edge.
You felt your climax building, overwhelming and unstoppable. Your eyes fluttered shut, ready to let go—but his hand suddenly cupped your cheek, a sharp slap bringing you back.
“I told you,” he growled, his voice authoritative. “None of that. You keep your eyes on me when I fill you up. Understand?”
You nodded frantically, gasping as you forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze once again through the mirror—the sight was enough to send you over the edge. Your release hit you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as you cried out his name.
The sight of you coming undone beneath him was his undoing. With a few more erratic thrusts, he followed, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you. A deep groan tore from his chest, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he rode out his high.
The room fell into silence, save for the sound of your labored breathing. In-ho steadied you, his hands gentle now as he helped you stand. He brushed your hair back, pressing soft kisses to your temple.
“If we get out of here alive…” A sheepish smile spread across your face, “Let’s drink again sometime?”
He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “When we get out,” he corrected, his tone laced with quiet determination. He kissed you once more, sealing the promise. And he meant it. If it meant keeping you by his side, he’d kill every last player in the game with his bare hands.
It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳
AHHH I DIDNT EVEN NOTICEEE IM 1 YEARS OLDD THOUGH I THOUGHT ID BE OLDER BUT YOU GET WHAT YOU GET
S. Aizawa | Dorm Patrol
So this will be my first time posting one of these on here. It's more of an experiment than anything else, but I had an idea for a one-shot/fic and I figured I'd see if anyone would be interested before I invest actual time into it, you know?
TW: 18+, studentxteacher (implied afab), peeping, masturbation
MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT
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He's wanted you since the first day of classes. Something about you draws him in like a moth to a flame. He's done his best to keep himself in check, but every night when he patrols the dorms, he checks in on you, slipping his head into your room.
If you're up, then he makes sure to check in on some of the others to make sure he doesn't arouse suspicion, but if you're asleep, he watches you sleep for a bit, admiring your features.
After his dorm patrol is over, he goes to his own room and locks the door, using his rolled up undershirt as a gag as he violently pumps his cock, not even waiting to get all the way out of his hero suit. He thinks of the way your lips move when you talk, how they would taste on his, how you've got just the right figure, how he wants to touch every inch of you with his rough hands.
Sometimes, if training is one on one and you volunteer to be used in his demonstration, he rubs one out during his lunch break, barely making it to his room before he loses his composure completely.
As teens are wont to do, you start experimenting on yourself, and hearing you pant and moan under your own ministrations has him hard instantly. His impulse tells him to burst through your door and ravage you the way you deserve until his cock is coated in your juices and your voice gives out from screaming his name, but he knows that he shouldn't, so he fights it with everything he has and opts to just listen.
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Please like this and/or tell me if you'd like to see it more detailed. I'm not quite prepared to do a lot of asks, but if you want, you can send me something to mull over for later.
HJEHEHEEHHWHE
let me help ya’ relax.
thanos / player 230 x reader (squid game)
warnings — noncon, public (voyeurism), tears, kissing, use of the word bitch, use of the word rape, pussy kissing, choking, slight / barely but manhandling,
by clicking read more you consent to reading this content and you are 18+
“hey beautiful.”
“the hell?”
standing right in front of you, or rather over you, player 230. it was night and everyone was asleep or sitting in a corner somewhere. you didn’t know this guy besides seeing him the first two games and seeing him act like a fucking lunatic. you sit up and gather yourself.
“what do you want?”
“oh you know, just wanted to talk to a pretty girl.”
he does a cheeky smile. you stare. what do you even say to that. thank you i guess…?
“uh—”
“no need to thank me, it’s what i do. just such a great fucking guy right?”
he picks at the cross on his neck before pulling a pill out and holds it out to you.
“you use?”
“what?”
“drugs. do you do drugs? or have you done them before?”
how the fuck did he manage to bring his shit in here for one, and for two; why the hell is he more worried about doing drugs rather than living. that’d be the last thing you’d be thinking about.
“no. i dont do them and i dont have any interest in that.”
he does a fake pouty face.
“come on babe, loosen up ya’know? don’t wanna stress your pretty little face out.”
he pops the pill in his own mouth. where was this guy going with this? he clearly wants to stay here, hence the big blue ‘O’ on his jacket. so if he’s bored he should go talk to the people on his side. how the hell could you relax watching people you’ve gotten close to or even have just spoke to once die? meanwhile this dudes been jumping around having the time of his life while he’s been here. if this game ended tomorrow, he’d join it again a million times over. or maybe he wouldn’t but the drugs in his system sure as hell would.
“yeah, no… i appreciate your kindness but i don’t even know you and i think i’m just gonna lay back down.”
he grabs your hand and starts shaking it aggressively.
“my names thanos, it’s great to meet you! now you know who i am.”
he smiles again. you just stare. that’s not how it works at all. you could tell he was waiting for you to introduce yourself but you just brush it off and tell him again you’re going to lay back down. before you go to turn over and lay though, he grabs your face with both of his hands and presses your lips together into a deep kiss. he holds you there for a good while, and it felt like you were suffocating.
“what the fucks wrong with you?”
“baby, you could be my new drug! change that ‘X’ into an ‘O’, we’d be absolutely unstoppable!”
“this is real life you idiot, not some fucking video game!”
you slap his hand away from you and try telling him to get lost, but he just grabs your wrist and pushes you back onto your bed. you yell at him to get the fuck off of you but he just presses a finger up to your mouth hushing you.
“sex is a great way to relieve stress. just let me make you feel good. don’t be too loud though, unless you want the others to see us. but by all means, do it. it’s only going to make me harder.”
he laughed and winked at you. you suck the air through your teeth and he still holds onto your left wrist with one of his hands while letting the other one push at his chest. you’re more cautious with your voice level now and in a whisper you try again to get him to go.
“i don’t want to have sex with you, can you just go? go jack off in the corner or mess with literally any other girl here!”
he ignores you for the time being and goes to push your pants down, but with your free hand you grab his hand to stop him.
“gee babe, how sweet of you to wanna hold my hand! but uh, i kinda need it to get to the fun part.”
he ignores your hand continuing to grab at his, not proving to be much use at all besides annoying him. he pushes your pants down, and then your panties to your ankles; acting as sort of some form of restraint. it would prove to be somewhat more difficult to kick at him now as your footing would get caught in the pant legs. he sits up off of your chest finally and starts to pull his pants and boxers off. you wanted to scream at him so badly to get off of you, to scream for some help, but you knew nobody would and all they’d do was watch. it wasn’t anybody’s problem and they weren’t going to make it theirs.
he cups your sex and starts rubbing circles at your tiny little hole to get you all soaked and ready for him. he leans down and he kisses it. he was literally about to start making out with your fucking pussy.
you squeezed your eyes shut and a couple tears come sliding down. god, first you’re in this game that seems normal, then people around you start getting shot, nobody wants to go home, and now you’re getting rapped by some crazy ass drug addict that calls himself fucking thanos. thanos! you’re pulled out of your thoughts when you feel his thumb on your face and him wiping your tears. you slightly open your eyes and he kisses you again. this time with your free hand you push as hard as you can at his face. he moves back and he makes an ‘ow’ face and rubs his forehead. he grabs your used to be free wrist and just pushes it to your side and holds it there.
“it’s always the prettiest bitches that play fucking hard to get.”
he lines up his cock with your somewhat wet hole. he maybe would’ve spent a little more time prepping you but you just ticked him off and he wasn’t going to help you anymore than he already has.
“it’s alright, i’ll have screaming my name and this whole place will know it by the time we’re done baby!”
oh god you were gonna be sick. you feel the sudden intrusion and you immediately tense. biting your lip back from screaming and shaking your head, tears flying left and right. you try to bend and claw your fingers at his hands that are holding yours down but it proves to be futile. you yell at him, while still keeping your voice down to stop and that he’s gotten enough and that he should go.
“agh—please—”
“please? you—fuck’—you want me to please keep going? well you don’t have to tell me that, i was already going to!”
he keeps a fast pace going, and the bed might as well of slid off of the shitty bars it was being held up on. everybody sleeping above you could definitely feel the whole thing moving. you try to fish your legs out of your pants legs to at least have some sort of way of pushing him away but it proves to be slightly harder than you thought.
“fuck babe—you feel so—fuck- so fucking good.”
he sucks the air through his teeth breathing heavy, while you’re doing the opposite and holding your breath.
“god you’re so tight, and you’re so — m’- so hot. i wish i could feel every inch of your — agh - you’re body but you’re too much of a fucking bitch, so i gotta keep ya’ still.”
he stops at an in thrust and moves his face down to yours, causing his cock to go deeper in you and causing you to bite back a moan and squeeze your eyes shut. he press his forehead to yours, your sweat causing them to almost stick together. he whispers to you while keeping perfect eye contact.
“but your my fucking bitch right? you’ll be my dumbed out little whore, baby. should get a tattoo on ya’ that says thanos’s bitch.”
he laughs moves down to your neck, starting to kiss all over it. leaving sweet marks all over as he starts thrusting into you again. you just feel his heavy hot breath against your neck and you just stare up at the bars above you and hold in the choked up sob threatening to come out. you feel his cock tense in you, threatening to shoot his load out and your eyes widen. he starts thrusting harder. he lets go of both your wrists and before you can even breathe out, relieved from the slightest bit of less pressure, he wraps both his hands around your throat and looks you in the eyes the whole entire time.
“come on bab — fuckk’- babe. look at me pleas- come on, watch how good you — you make me feel.”
you start to scratch at his his hands and his arms. he’d most definitely be marked up all over by the morning. finding it increasingly more difficult to breathe. you finally decide to look him in the eyes, sending him a pleading look to stop and to quit choking you, your face slowly starting to turn a shade of blue. upon your eyes looking at him, seeing those teary orbs and pleading face, it sends him over the edge. he sends a curse your way before he surprisingly pulls out, his load going all over the bed. he lets go of your neck and pulls up his boxers, falling on top of you. his weight making it hard for you to completely catch your breath. you start to choke and hiccup on your own tears before he looks up at you and strokes his hand across your face, catching a few tears in his hand.
“i told you it wouldn’t be bad at all. don’t you feel a little more at ease now? are you prepared for the games tomorrow?”
not at all. was he fucking delusional? he lays his head back on your chest, looking up at you like a child, and rubs his hands up your sides.
“tomorrow when we vote, you better change to an ‘O’. wouldn’t want my pretty girl to betray me after all.”
he does a fake pout at the end of that. you go to sit up to pull your pants back up but he stops you.
“uhm, allow me. wouldn’t want you to do any hard labor! i’ll take care of it all for ya.’”
he pulls your panties and your pants up and sits up off of you, getting his own pants situated. he grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the top of it, looking at you in your eyes with a smile, your eyes still watering. and you send a glare his way.
“ouch babe! you hurt me here.”
he smacks his chest a couple times where his heart was.
“i’d stay here and sleep with you, but my friends will want a piece of you too if they find out that’s what i did tonight.”
you shudder at the thought of that.
“but dont worry. i’ll see you tomorrow. i’ll see ya at breakfast, yeah?”
he pulls you in for one long kiss and you push him away and he almost falls into the next bed over. he grabs at his heart again dramatically.
“ugh, i don’t wanna leave you. we’ll talk tomorrow though, kay? maybe have some more fun too.”
he winks at you again before turning over his shoulder and literally skipping away, running with his arms in the air and his hands in fists. you just hug your knees, crying into them, and now more than ever you wanted to go home. god this was so fucked. you just wanted to go to the bathroom and wash all over yourself but you knew they wouldn’t let you in. you just keep a tight grip around your knees, trying to find some sort of solace while you’re stuck here.
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