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creamecafe · 6 months ago

Note

I haven’t seen many fics about player 333 yet (Myunggi) 😔 Could you do maybe an enemies to lover type story with him!!!

Wicked Game | Myung-Gi Pt. 1

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: You're stuck in the squid games fighting for your life. It also doesn't help that you are stuck with a wanna be rich scammer fraud.

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Myung-Gi x GN!Reader (No pronouns used)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: enemies to lovers, hurt

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝:

𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: Thank you so much for requesting. I hope you enjoy this! Also the reader is an ex of Myung-Gi before the games. Please understand I don't HATE Kim Jun-hee, I just thought it would fit more for enemies to lovers. I also believe I may put this into two parts as the 3rd season is yet to come

If you would like to be tagged for the next part, let me know in the comments down below and I'll add you to the list!!

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

Joining the squid games could possibly be the last thing any person with common sense and a reason to live would consider doing. Unless they either had none.

That's what it looked like for you. The games you had to do to win 45.6 billion won had you either questioning if it's still worth it to still keep going or just to end it all on this island.

Out of all the people in these games, there's one face that you despised seeing and wondered how he's still alive after what he did, Myung-Gi.

He's your ex boyfriend. Being with him was great at first, but once he was invested in the crypto coin thing business, it felt like you're being cheated on. It also didn't help that he had an affair behind your back with a girl named Kim Jun-hee who turned up pregnant.

You didn't hate Kim Jun-hee, as you felt bad for her that your ex abandoned her and their baby, but the whole thing hurted you.

There's nothing more you wanted to get out of here with enough money to move to another place and start off fresh.

When you first woke up in the dormitory with all the other players, you wondered where this possibly could go. You looked around to see so many unfamiliar faces.

Then a man in a pinkish red suit all the way across the room wuth a black covered mas with a white triangle comes out from double doors and starts explaining why majority are here. Because of their debts.

They showed different videos of people playing Ddakji and getting slapped in the face. There was one face you recognized, your ex. It wouldn't be surprising that he was in debt for trying to chase after the crypt coin thing.

It looks like you're not the only one who hated him, many people who fell for the crypto coin were also mad at him. A purple-haired guy stood out from the rest, as he was a rapper you heard from others who were apparently fans. You had no interest in him or your ex but were wondering what the whole ordeal of winning money is.

You had to sign a waiver for the games, and you were soon directed to take pictures. It was rough enough. Then you would have to climb stairs that seemed like you were going to Mount Everest. You saw your ex from the right side across. You also didn't want to risk being seen.

Finally, you reached the first game after what seemed like an eternity. There was a huge robot doll and the whole layout was supposed to imitate a school playground with its blue sky and sand ground.

"Hey there pretty" You turn around and see the purple haired guy who was talking to your ex

"Who are you?" You exclaimed looking him up and down not in the mood to be hit on.

"I'm Choi Seung-hyun, Thanos for my music. You might of heard my raps before?"

"If I did, I probably would want to be deaf right now. Including not hearing this conversation."

He pretended to be hurt and put a hand over his heart.

"Ouch girl. Cold aren't you?"

You rolled your eyes. He sees another girl walks by and also tries talking to her. Poor girl, you thought.

"Y/N?" You hear your name being called and look around.

"Y/N!" A hand fell on your shoulder and you flinched turning around.

It was Myung-Gi. Your panic turned into annoyance as you rolled your eyes again.

"What are you doing here?" He asks

"Should be asking you that too, but I think it's obvious."

"Can we please talk?"

"What's there to talk about Myung-Gi? You chose a cyrpt coin over me and cheated on me, and got another girl pregant"

"And I regret it very much. Please come back."

"Share those regrets with the others in here too, including the mother of your child."

He tried to reply back but you walked away from him, ignoring him.

Speakers came on, explaining the rules of the game.

A screaming man came into the front and said it's not what we think the game is. He exclaims that if you move, you'll die.

People around you scoffed and found the man crazy. It seemed like to you he was crazy too, but what if he was right?

He was still screaming telling people not to move a muscle when the game starts.

The robot started turning around and putting her hand up to the tree to not look at the other player.

It started singing.

"Everyone freeze!" The man in front says.

Nobody moved a muscle. Your eyes looked around and saw no one moving. What if the guys telling the truth?

The doll looked away and you started moving forward quickly along with everyone else.

"Everyone freeze!" Yelled again the older man.

There was a scream coming from a girl who moved. She laughed exclaiming she just moved. A bullet came through her head and she dropped dead.

The guy really wasn't lying then. One wrong move, you're dead. More people started moving and more gunshots were coming.

Bodies were dropping. People are screaming. This was a bad idea to be here. You were also pretty sure you were going to die with your ex boyfriend. That another cherry on top to add.

"If you don't make it to the finishing line on time, you'll also die." The man yells but has his mouth covered like he was going to take a sneeze.

It felt impossible to win this game. You were so sure you were going to win money but now the only thing you could be winning is death. You wanted to see if Myung-Gi was still alive.

But you couldn't risk being shot. Everyone sooned formed into a single file line. The man explained that the doll can't see what's behind a person if there's a bigger person in front.

More gunshots came. More bodies dropping. You couldn't stop now though. You're close to the finish line, you can feel it.

You soon reached the finish line relieved that you made it alive. You looked around for Myung-Gi to see if he's alive.

Why do you care so much about him? You thought to yourself.

It's just basic human sympathy you thought. Hating him is one thing, but him dying is another.

The game ended and you witnessed the man who warned about the game, you see his number was 456 and another, a woman helping a man who got shot in the leg reach the finish line get shot in the head.

This isn't just a game. This life or death. Everyone including you who passed were allowed to go back to the dorms.

Zoned out walking, seeing bodies and blood, you hear your name being called.

"Y/N!"

Turning around to see who called your name, you see Myung-Gi run up to you.

"Hey, are you okay?"

A light smile came from your face.

"Yes I'm alright and you?"

"Alive thank God." He chuckled.

You chuckled lightly but didn't know what to say after. Usually, you would have something smart to say to him but after what happened, you wanted nothing more to be out of here.

There were yelling and shouts to how the man knew they would shoot if you lost the game. They were accusing the man of being behind the game.

A pink guard then came out and congratulated us for completing the first game. It then if a majority voted to O, you could leave the game.

Everyone chose their own sides O and X. You chose X, even though you desperately wanted the money to be able to move to another city. You see Jun-Hee, his other ex, chose X too. Myung-Gi chose O, which you weren't surprised.

Unfortunately there were more O's than X's which meant you had to stay. You were heartbroken but also upset and turned to Myung-Gi. Now you wish he died in the first game.

You went up to him and turned him around aggressively and slapped him across the face. People looked at you guys, but you didn't care.

"You're really that selfish, you had to choose O?"

"Y/N-"

"The mother of your child is in this game and you choose O. I should have known from the start dating you was a bad idea. If these games don't kill you, I will."

You stormed off away from him and went to your bed. Myung-Gi probably thought you were bluffing about you killing him.

Something deep down you wanted to keep that word true.

It looks like you'll have to wait and see the next day.

𝙽𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 | 𝙼𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝚂𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚍 𝙶𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝙹𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝!

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toxicanonymity · 8 months ago

Note

Some Landlord ! Billy smut would be Perfect, if you have time. Thanks Tox 🥺

murderbait

BILLY LOOMIS x f!READER | 2k words | The Leak WARNINGS: 18+ AU where Billy lives and is acquitted of the murders. He's now your sleazy landlord. Gratuitous slutty descriptions. masturbation in public, detailed PIV fantasy, degradation, praise, banter and bickering, light enemies to lovers dynamic, manhandling, dom Billy vibes, sexual tension, pet names, "protective" Billy. NOTES: Sure, nonnie. I offer this sleaze with love. 🖤🖤

In the middle of the night, you wake up sweaty despite being completely naked and using no covers. Without putting on any clothes, you walk to your kitchen to get a cold cup of water, only to see a stack of filled ice trays next to the sink because you forgot to put them in the freezer. Ugh.

You get a glass of water and stand in front of the fridge with the door open. The air conditioner in your window feels weaker every day. It’s so stuffy in your trailer, you wonder if you’d be better off with the window open. Still naked, you go to the kitchen window and slide it open. No matter how hard you push upward, it won’t click and stay.

“Piece of shit,” you mutter. But the fresh air does feel good.

Standing in the window with your arms raised, tits blazing, skin glistening…. something moves in the corner of your eye. There’s a fake security camera mounted on the shed you’re looking at. At least you always assumed it was fake, since the owners are such deadbeats. You give it the middle finger just in case, then use a pitcher to hold the window up.

You go back to bed for a while longer, then get up and rifle through your unfolded laundry, looking for a swimsuit. You find a bikini that appears to have shrunk, but it has adjustable strings so you put it on anyway. Next door, there’s an extended stay hotel that has a pool. It has a cracked and faded slide, no longer in use, and half the rungs are dangling from the pool ladders. It won’t be the first time you’ve snuck in there. No one seems to care, and no one’s going to be out at this hour anyway.

The pool water is normally warm by sunset, but in the middle of the night, it’s cooled off enough. A weakly-inflated flamingo pool float sits atop the water, and a couple of pool noodles hug the wall. Half the pool lights are working. There’s no way this would pass an inspection, but sometimes it feels like barely anyone outside the area knows it exists.

You sit on the side of the pool, and as you lower yourself into the water, you look down to see your hard nipples barely contained by the shrunken, unlined triangle top, with some areola showing on one breast. The sight of your own slutty fit turns you on, and you don’t fix it.

Kicking your legs out in front of you, you imagine Billy joining you. Billy and his dirty wifebeaters and trucker hats and jeans that fit too well. Billy and his slutty fucking selfies that you can’t stop looking at every night. Billy, and that look in his eyes like he could eat you up, if only he were hungry.

He’d be hungry right now, you bet. You turn to your side and use both feet to grab a pool noodle, letting yourself off the wall as you mount it. Straddling the pool noodle, you turn toward the wall and rest your forearms on the side and squeeze your thighs together.

Closing your eyes and resting your head, you fantasize about him. He’s a low-life and a sleaze, and god he makes it hot. The way he moves, it shouldn’t be hot at all, but you’ve been watching him closer ever since he sent those selfies, and when scratches his lower belly, lifting up his tank top, exposing his happy trail, at this point it drives you fucking crazy. Like that’s where you need your forehead. You tilt your hips for more pressure from the foam between your legs.

There’s not a single thing about him that says he’s a better guy than you thought, but maybe he is. Or more likely, you don’t care. Or, perhaps most likely, you kinda like him bad.

He’s not the kind of man you’d want in your life, but in your bed?

It’s so easy to picture his silhouette at the foot of your bed, scratching himself, then lewdly grabbing the massive bulge in his jeans.

Your hips begin to move on their own, seeking friction with the foam noodle.

You can see him kneeling onto your mattress, prowling toward you, arms flexing, chains hanging down from his neck, dangling in the air–god if you could feel those hit your skin. You can feel him grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand, while he unbuttons his jeans with the other.

You reach down and slide the pool noodle against your front, grinding your hips.

He’d probably lean in real close, say something cocky like, “you ready for this?” Ugh, his voice. With his dick in his hand. “Think ya can take it?” Yes, yes, please. He drops his thick meat heavily against your mound. Yes, please. God, please, you’d be squirming under him, wrists pinned by his hand, lifting your hips desperately. “Sure ya can handle this big cock?”

Fuck. It’s so clear, you can practically smell him. Your whole cunt throbs and you’re gushing in your bikini bottoms. “Mm,” you quietly hum as you get closer.

He’d shove himself into you, you’d arch your back and moan. He’d chuckle darkly, then his free hand would come to your jaw, dwarfing your face as he uses just two fingers and a thumb to squeeze your mouth open. The smell of cigarettes intensifies as his face hovers over yours, then he spits in your mouth. And he stays there, bottomed out, and you’ve never felt so full but you need the friction, you need him to move so bad, you need him to fuck you, you beg him to fuck you, really fuck you. “Yeah? Need me to fuck you?” God, yes.

“Mm,” your face screws up. You're so wet, and your clit twitches as you rub the front of your swimsuit with the foam cylinder you're straddling.

You can practically hear him say, “Poor baby.” He’s got half a smile, amused and in control. “Yeah I'll give it to ya,” he begins to slowly retreat, pauses with his cock half-withdrawn and lowers his pitch. “Who’s your daddy?”

The tension snaps and your lips part as you see stars.

Squeezing your thighs tight around the pool noodle, you ride it out, cumming to the thought of his girth stretching you with his gold chains dangling over you, hips beginning to move, jeans sitting loosely around his hips.

You weren’t planning on doing that, but, there you are, coming down off that high in the motel pool, in your shrunken bikini, skin buzzing, so tired and peaceful you could fall asleep.

And then metal scrapes against concrete, stirring you from your blissed out state.

A shadow moves.

His deep voice at a low volume, with that edge of condescension: "All done?”

Your stomach drops. You almost don’t want to look up, but you do. It’s his silhouette, manspreading in a worn-out chair, with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. The shadow of his stupid trucker hat hides his face. You let go of the pool noodle and try to subtly push it away, obviously too late. Frozen, heart racing, you’re standing with your chest above water.

“What are you doing here?” you demand.

“Don’t worry, I’m on my way out.” He stands up and stretches, revealing his happy trail. He twists in another stretch and god, his silhouette - his jeans bulging, clearly aroused. “An' so are you, c’mon.”

“I’m still cooling off,” you protest.

“I’ll bet.” He drops his cigarette into his can of beer and carries it with him as he approaches the pool with his face still in the shadow of his hat. Light reflects off his gold chains.

You make a fake effort to adjust your top and can’t take your eyes off his jeans. He adjusts himself and stands there giving you a moment.

Then he loses patience and says, “Alright, sugartits. Let’s go.”

He squats down and grabs you by the arm.

“Hey,” you protest as he starts to manhandle you toward the shallow stairs. “Alright, alright. Damn”

When you’re out of the pool, he looks you up and down. You feel like covering yourself up, but you defiantly stand with your hands on your hips.

“Tryin’ to turn tricks out here?” He slowly steps toward you and his eyes are glued to your chest. “Good place to do it….prolly make a few hooker friends too.”

“How many of’em have you fucked?” you retort.

He ignores the question and reaches for your chest.

Without blocking his hand, you look down and part of your nipple is showing again. He “fixes” your suit, tugging it over and thumbing your nipple while he’s at it. It covers your areola but leaves underboob.

“There ya go.”

He puts a toothpick in his mouth and motions for you to lead the way.

As you exit the pool area dripping wet, you mention, “If you’re gonna spy on me, you could bring me a towel next time.”

“Yeah, okay,” He mumbles with the toothpick at the corner of his mouth. “Just lookin’ out for ya’s all.”

“I don’t remember asking you to.”

He pulls the tab off his beer can and it replaces the cigarette that had been between his fingers. He throws the can into a bush.

As you reach the trailer park property line, he throws his toothpick into the shrubs and lowers his voice. “Listen sugar, there’s some shady fuckin’ characters over there.”

You scoff. “Apparently so.” you shoot him a look and can’t help but check him out while you’re at it. A harsh floodlight highlights the freckles on his big, tan shoulders.

He keeps on, “You tryin’ to get stabbed?”

“What?”

“Dumb as hell, sneakin’ over there, middle’a the night.”

Somehow, this makes you feel stupid. Like if he’s calling someone dumb... Damn.

You walk the rest of the way to your trailer in silence with him following slightly behind you.

“Lemme guess, ya left it unlocked, too,” he mutters, then opens your door himself. “Fuckin’ murderbait over here,” he grumbles.

He stands with his back to the open door and waits, making your body brush his as you walk in.

Full body goosebumps.

He stands there looking at you, and you eye his pants. Slowly, he steps into your personal space, and you back up almost to the nearest wall, but not against it. There, you stop. Letting him close. With his hand on the wall, he effectively traps you, blocking you from going any further into your trailer.

The smell of Newports fills your nostrils. He wets his lips and looks from your eyes to your chest, then your mouth.

He brings his nose to your neck and barely grazes you as he takes a long sniff. His nose brushes your cheek, and his lips follow. Just above a whisper, he warns, “Don’t do it again.”

When you don’t answer, he pulls back and his hand comes to your neck. He’s gentle, not applying any pressure, but the presence of his large, strong hand is enough to feel like a threat. One that makes you more turned on than scared. “Got it?” he asks, looking at your mouth. Can’t be sure if he’s talking about going over there alone or leaving your trailer unlocked, and it doesn’t really matter. His eyes are wild, and it’s like he’s inspecting you, marveling at your face.

You whisper, “Yes sir,” and await his next move.

He takes his hand from your neck and cups your cheek to whisper, “Good girl.”

You could actually melt.

He gives your chest another look and drops his hand, incidentally brushing his wrist against your breast before he pulls up his jeans. He bites the aluminum tab and turns to leave without another word. As he walks away, your eyes are drawn to a glock sticking out of the back of his pants.

He looks back at you and winks before shutting the door behind himself.

-----

------

Thank you for reading! I appreciate your interest and engagement with him so much.

Please take care of yourselves ♥️

#billy loomis x reader #landlord!billy loomis #billy loomis smut #toxicanonymity ☠️#scream fanfic #slasher x reader #sleazy!billy loomis #slasher smut #ghostface smut #state of fic emergency #dilf!billy loomis #x reader

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tired-biscuit · 1 year ago

Text

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: hybrids, predator/prey dynamic, mounting, sort of dubcon-ish, a hint of somnophilia, breeding, established relationship.

wc: 1.6k

fox hybrid!naruto is as playful as much as he is sneaky.

he follows you around the apartment; curiously peeking from behind the corners, watching your every move not because he’s skittish, but rather because he wants to learn how you behave when you think he’s not around.

he does it quite often for some reason. perhaps it’s the wild of the predator that’s coursing his blood or the naive wonder that’s just signature for his personality, who knows, but if you catch him by any chance — and you do, he isn’t nearly as slick as he thinks he is — he immediately comes over, wraps his arms around you from behind and makes sure to comfort you and nip your cheek or bottom lip with his sharp fangs after every kiss he gifts you in apology.

still, he continues his watch. he learns your patterns over time despite the fact that he has a habit of tripping over his own two feet and blowing his cover with all the noise it causes. he learns the way you move, the little quirks that you exhibit, the timing of them. he learns them all as a safety precaution which he doesn’t really need if you think about it.

after all, he could slam into you full force as a means to take over and could simply make you submit to his predatory instinct just like a couple of his apex predator friends had done with their own mates in the past. he’s well aware that he’d win if he did it that way; he’s no wolf or bear, but he’s still stronger and armored with a far bigger set of teeth than the one that currently sits in your mouth.

however, the problem is that you’re sneaky too.

you’re a tough little thing to grasp — hard to impress, even worse to court. are practically made to slip between a person’s fingers if they were to try and squeeze you into their fist without asking for permission to do so first. on top of all that, you being a cat hybrid amongst all the other possibilities available doesn’t help his situation either; it makes you exceptionally perceptive and equally as hard to dominate because of it. so troublesome!

and that’s not all there is to it. even your eyesight is spectacular, as is your awareness of your surroundings. the triangle-shaped ears that sit atop your head twitch and constantly angle in the direction of the smallest movement he makes. and naruto knows that they do, that they listen and assess the danger. he’s tested it out so many times during the course of your relationship.

the first step he takes towards you whenever your back is turned in his direction is also usually his last because of how fast you are to turn around to face him in mere seconds, rigid body language exhibiting high alert. he’s never even gotten the chance to fully sneak up on you yet, much less tackle you into a play fight.

this entire thing would be so much easier if you were a bunny. he’d push and you’d take it like a good little rabbit, the end. everyone knows that bunny hybrids practically throw themselves before the jaws of a predator and spread their strong legs just as willfully the moment their first heat comes into play.

but naruto, even whilst itching to conquer you because of the beast within, kind of digs the challenge a moody little kitty such as yourself brings to the table. especially when the effort that he’s put into all this preying finally manages to pay off.

actually, it enables him to catch you when you’re least expecting it — during your afternoon nap.

your feline behaviour really shines at its brightest when you doze off. instinctively drawn to warmth, he’s since learned that you always fall asleep in the patch of sunlight that spills through the window and onto the couch across the room when the days are clear and the curtains are pushed to the side. always in the same position, too. on your tummy, with your limbs relaxed and stretchy; tail swishing from side to side ever so slightly before going completely still. just like now.

oh shit, there it is; the sign he’s been waiting for!

your tail has stopped moving so that means you’re completely out for the next half hour, perhaps even more. he watches from a safe distance just to make sure, leaning against the doorway that leads into the living room and straining his fox ears as hard as he’s possibly able as a means to catch every sound.

thud, thud, thud. your heartbeat is calm, as is your breathing. you’re at ease while you sleep, he can not only hear it but see it too. open and vulnerable and trusting, allowing yourself to be caught completely off guard. you could almost pass as docile, the way you look right now, but he knows better — he’s been with you for long enough to know.

so he takes one step forward, slowly. toes, heel. nothing happens.

he takes another. all is well.

and then all of a sudden, before your heavy eyelids can get the chance to crack open at the sound of fast-approaching footsteps, and before you can come back to from the depths of the cozy catnap you were so pleasantly indulging in, naruto at long last makes his move.

your sweet fox boyfriend pins you down with his weight as he lays on top of you; he squeezes you flat against the couch until your cheek is pressing into its soft cushions. he’s warm and shirtless and his skin smells like the summery shower gel he must have washed himself with earlier, but he doesn’t seem to be scared of your claws that might come in contact with him, promising pain.

even his hair is still damp. a small droplet of water lands on your cheek when you try to turn your head to the side to look at him.

you hiss at him with prominent annoyance when it slides down the edge of your jaw, the action a subtle warning that clearly tells him to stop this nonsense right now, but he’s been expecting that, too. so he works quickly to try and tame you into submission, allowing instinct to take charge because it’s the only safe bet he has.

you’re surprised how easily he works his way around you and it’s entirely your fault. he doesn’t show how strong he actually is underneath all the shy caresses that he gives you and the nice grins and it makes you forget, giving you a false sense of authority that quickly diminishes when you’re the one experiencing that raw power on your own body.

so it’s no wonder that you stand no chance while he manhandles you and keeps you caged underneath him. that you feel utterly helpless while he drags your comfortable little shorts down your legs with zero problem; until they’re hanging off one ankle right along with your panties.

he frees his cock, fists it a couple of times with the help of some drool before he mounts you then, breathing hard and still making sure to avoid the claws you’re bound to sink into him the second he releases your wrists. he’s holding them both with just one hand, seemingly mocking your incompetency even further, albeit completely unintentionally.

and it’s true; he doesn’t mean it. naruto has never been mean-spirited like that despite the whole predator aspect that lives and roars beneath his gorgeous tan skin.

but foxes can be tricky.

so he holds his grip and they dig into the couch instead, your claws. they get caught in the blanket that you’re both sweating on top of now as his hips rut into you and yours follow the deep, almost animalistic rhythm even though your anger and pride tell you to stop, stop, fucking stop obeying him.

but you can’t stop, you’re forced to submit because he’s a bigger threat than you are; it’s just how your brain is wired. you bend to survive. it’s exactly like that situation with the scrawny mouse girl who you used to tease and endlessly make fun of back in high school.

how does it feel to be on the prey side, little kitty?

you’re unsure how to feel about this entire thing, it might be because your mind has slipped into a certain kind of haze. he fucks you like he’s never fucked you before and a prolonged mewl that you can’t hold back leaves your lips when his teeth sink into the crook of your neck all of a sudden, marking you.

the strap of your tank top is hanging off your shoulder, exposing you further, and his hot, greedy mouth follows the naked skin without a second thought, just biting, licking, sucking. marking.

he’s growling and snarling into your ear every time he slams into you, sounding like the exact opposite of himself. you’re no better either; you keep making so much noise that you’re ashamed of yourself. moaning and whining, squirming and thrashing underneath him. by the time he fills you up with his seed, you’ll probably start to purr.

just the thought alone makes you feral. the sudden urge to be bred and bear his children plagues your mind like the deadliest storm. imagining your pussy leaking his warm cum is simply too good while stuck in a lowly position such as this one.

his cock is throbbing inside you as he pounds into your slick cunt, trying to push its way into your fucking womb. he’s big and heavy, hot in your tummy and hard to fit. the adrenaline that he’s getting because of the complete control he now has over you is surely exciting him enough to make him see god.

he probably won’t see god, though.

oh no, you’ll make sure to drag this wicked fox into the very depths of hell the second his knot stops swelling and he releases you from his iron-like grip.

#i had to get this outta my system cos it’s been eating me alive fjdjdjhd #naruto smut #naruto x reader #naruto uzumaki x reader #naruto uzumaki smut #biscuit drabbles #cw hybrids #cw dubcon #cw somnophilia #cw breeding

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amoristt · 5 months ago

Text

trust i seek, and i find in you.

part 2 (x) part 3 (x)

「 ✦ seong gi-hun / reader ✦ 」

tags: sfw // gi-hun is tooth-rottingly sweet, violence, canon thru the canon cuz idc let me live, reader is a angry wet cat a/n: this is kinda like a pilot fic cuz theres gonna be three parts to this hehehe and relationship building is hardddd this chapter is kinda mid but trust me the next two r peak

This wasn’t part of the plan.

He wasn’t part of the plan.

Your goal from the moment you’d arrived- win at any cost.

Even after the first round of Red Light, Green Light you remained determined. You slapped your palm over the glowing blue button despite the open cries and protests of the opposing side and sauntered back into your corner of the dormitory, disappearing in the sea of bodies. Being sent home was only a minor setback- you were all too quick to jump head first back into the games knowing damn well it could cost you your life.

You didn’t care. That just meant either you died, or you left richer than you could ever even fathom. A win-win in your book, and the first had been easy enough. If it truly was just simple children's games, surely, you’d have a good chance of outplaying your competitors. You grew up more often in the streets playing with the scrappy neighborhood kids than you did inside your own home. There were very few games you hadn’t played, and honestly, gotten quite good at in your youth.

So you had thought.

Truthfully, dalgona had shaken you up. Even though you’d chosen a circle by triangle, a lucky guess, you never quite had honed up your fine motor skills. Games that required decent aim, mind games, or even the more physical games like tag? Sure. Wrestling? In the bag. You were confident. But having to carve out shapes in thin sugar, and doing it timed while gunshots popped off all around you?

You remembered how bad your hands shook the entire time, your mind screaming at your lungs to just fucking breathe properly so you would stop trembling like a leaf. Distress and agitation only mounted when you noticed many of your competitors finishing, panic setting in. All you had to do, was be gentle.

But you had never been gentle a day in your life.

Sweat had gathered at your forehead and you on the precipice of losing your cool when the timer only had a mere 3 minutes left. You were definitely dead. You were sure of it. Your hands were too shaky, your pressure control was essentially nonexistent. The only sound you could hear was your own heart thundering in your ears, beat by beat.

Then, you saw him for the first time.

A man with dark, thick hair lifting his honeycomb to the light before licking along its backside frantically. At first, you didn’t know what you were looking at. But then you realized how after every lick, he’d hover it over the light overhead again. It stunned you- how had you not fucking thought of that? You, along with most everyone who was leftover, started to do the same. The sugar was sweet on your tongue. You barely even registered it.

Your shape was free in less than 40 seconds, and you showed it to your guard for approval before you were escorted out of the room. As you went, you passed the man by, who was still hard at work. Though contradictory to your goal, you hoped he’d make it in time. Your breath left you in a sigh of relief when he’d wandered back into the dormitory afterwards, alive and well.

After everyone that had survived filled the room, you took one look around and realized how much… Larger a majority of your competitors were. Women were far and few amongst all the men. It made you nibble at your lip, anxious. Sure, you were tough enough, a little rough around the edges, but brute strength was brute strength. And already, groups were forming, with one in particular that made you squirm. A larger man with tattoos sprawled over his neck and into his face, equipped with a bad attitude, and lackeys nipping at his heels everywhere he went.

You needed to make some buddies if you were going to make it. But who would openly accept you? You’d done very little to even make contact with anyone, being liked enough to settle into a group. Who could you approach?

Then, it dawned on you.

And you knew the perfect ice breaker.

When you’d found him in the endless ocean of people, you felt a twinge of hope ring through you. His dark hair was stark under the bright lights. He was smiling, laughing, with a group of people. Though it was a team entirely composed of men, one of them was an old man, meaning that they weren’t favoring power and sheer size over all else. Maybe they’d find use in you, too. It was probably your best shot, so, you swallow down your anxiety.

Though it took a couple seconds to build your confidence, you managed to leave the comfort of your bed and cross the massive floor of the dormitory. When you stood before him, his and the eyes of three other men you’d never seen before burning holes through you, you don’t think there was a time in your life you’d truly felt that small until then. There was so much at stake.

“Um,” You started, fidgeting with your sleeve. Talking was never your strongest skill. “I just wanted to say thank you, uh, for the dalgona game. I probably wouldn’t have made it out if you hadn’t, started, y’know…”

Your voice died in your throat. Not a single one of them made a peep. It made you want to turn around and scamper back into your little cave. Fuck it. Who needed friends. And you’re about to, too, when the man suddenly erupts into a smile so boyish, so genuine it almost takes your breath away. Up close now, you could see him better. Some light facial hair, rosy cheeks, and a curl to his disheveled hair.

He was cute.

“You’re welcome, it was nothing, really!” He said, and his voice was so kind. Maybe integrating wouldn’t be as hard as you’d believed initially- this man had a warmness about him. Something inviting. But you knew that you needed an in, a reason for them to let you stick around. It wasn’t going to be strength, that was for sure. Maybe speed, but you weren't even sure if any games would require that. And though you had street smarts, your analytical skills were less than impressive.

So, you take a chance, and you decide to use some of that good-natured temperament against him.

“Um, if you don’t mind,” You’d forced out, trying to maintain an even tone. “I never really got to play games as a child, my, uh, my mother was very strict. She preferred I spent my time inside and, y’know, coloring and stuff.” You feel like a fucking idiot, word soup falling from your lips pathetically. “...I’m a bit at a loss for what’s to come. Could I, maybe… Maybe hang around you guys?”

Almost everything you had said was a bold, outright lie. But you needed an in.

There’s mixed glances all around. The curly haired man's eyes immediately flick to the man on his left, who sat proud with an intimidating glare. He didn’t bother to hide the way he sized you up, glancing up and down. The old man had seemed far away, a smile painting on his lips that you couldn’t quite understand.

Suddenly you’re 8 years old again, standing before a group of your classmates trying to kindle some forms of friendship moments before they’d shoved you in a locker.

You’re sure your plan was fried, when a darker skinned man turned towards you.

“Of course! I don’t really know the games either, myself, so…” His voice was just as kind as the curly haired mans, maybe even kinder. His eyes were warm, his expression light as the sun. “We can all help each other.”

The curly haired man leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Alright! What’s your name?”

Once you offered your name up, albeit hesitant, everyone's names were traded. Well, more like they’d given into your request. It was a trust thing, and maybe if they’d attached a name to your face, you’d have better luck melding in. You tried to memorize them all. Cho Sang-Woo, a curt business graduate from SNU. Ali Abdul, a factory worker from Pakistan- which explained why he felt he was at a disadvantage. The elderly gentleman who didn’t really seem to be all there, couldn’t seem to recall his own name. It made this unsettling pity build its home in your belly.

And then Seong Gi-hun, who sung everyones praises except his own.

You didn’t miss the way Sang-woo sized you up as you sat among them. But, you did miss the way Gi-hun’s eyes rarely left you as you got to know your new acquaintances. Ali, in particular was more than happy to have you around. He was sweeter than you’d anticipated, asked you all sorts of questions about your life.

You lied more often than you didn’t. After all, this was all just strategy.

My parents are alive. My favorite food is bulgogi. My mom is strict, but only because she cares.

I grew up in a very loving home.

Gi-hun asked why you were competing. You felt your throat tighten.

So I can show everyone I’m not a fuck up, your mind screams. But instead, you say, “To make my parents proud.”

He seems to like your answer. So does Sang-woo, resonating. You could only assume he was doing the same. That’s when you knew you were in.

It turned out, you were just in time, too. Not even an hour later did you witness a fight break out- that scary man you’d seen earlier with his backup absolutely beating on a different man you’d never seen before, waiting any moment now for a guard to intervene, only for the man to die in his spot on the floor. They came and took his body away in a timely fashion. You remembered shrinking in on yourself. That was also the moment you realized that Sang-woo and Gi-hun were much better people than you- because while they sauntered from their spots to check on the poor man beaten to a pulp on the floor, you wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.

You remembered the grave expression on Sang-woo’s face when there was no pulse to be felt. How Gi-hun knelt beside him and tried to call for help in vain. The guards paid him no mind despite the way he demanded they do something, anything. A man just died for god's sake at the hands of player 101- how could they just allow this to happen?

Nothing but empty stares in response.

Money dropped into the bank held high overhead. Surreal.

It made you pale in the face, the sinking reality that killing your competitors in cold blood was not only allowed, but encouraged.

You remembered your ride back to the games, watching the smoke fill the car and telling yourself, you could do this.

You’d made a serve lapse in judgement.

The rest of that evening, before lights out, was… Tense. This lingering dread that hung thick in the air and threatened to suffocate you. You fidgeted with your cuticles and the sleeve of your tracksuit, trying to ignore the way 101 and his lackeys watched you. Ripples of fear were starting to shake your reflection in the waters of your mind. You dug small lines into your fingers, picking at the skin around your nail beds until they sprouted dots of blood. As the minutes tick by, your heart rate increases.

You’re so caught up in trying to keep your breathing level that you don’t hear Sang-woo begin to speak. It’s only when Ali glances at you and holds a stare do you suddenly perk up.

“Stay close when you go to sleep. Anything could happen tonight.”

You hate his tone. It scares you- god, it’s been a long time since you’d felt scared. It’d been a long time since you felt self doubt. Sang-woo’s expression is expectant, so you nod quickly in affirmation, trying to mentally lean on the fact that he’d told you to stay nearby. You could be protected.

His eyes flicker between you and 101’s group.

“Those guys are definitely up to no good. If anyone gets attacked, we have to stick together and fight.”

Gi-hun’s line of sight found yours, his lips drawn into a frown, before he began to grab the old man's attention to let him know to keep his guard up. That poor old man. He had no idea what was coming. And, as if the size of Gi-hun’s heart wasn’t big enough, you watched him stagger to his feet and approach the woman who’d been deemed a pickpocket. You didn’t need to hear what was said, you already knew he was trying to look out for her.

He was so pure in nature you almost felt like your very presence was tainting him.

Here he was going out of his way time and time again, throwing trust in every direction, meanwhile you couldn’t even bring yourself to trust them enough to be honest about something as puny as your favorite food. Guilt made teeth gnash into skin, chewing away at the inside of your lip and cheeks.

From beside you, the old man shifted. He looked… Tired. Vacant. You lean towards him.

“Uh, sir,” You murmur. “If anything happens, I’m on the top bed. I’ll jump down.”

It takes a long while for him to answer you. Gears are turning in his mind almost visibly, but then he smiles.

“You remind me of- ah- what was her name?”

You tilt your head. “Who?”

He hums in thought. “Let’s see… Her name was… Was…”

If you felt like shit over his condition before, this was an entirely new low. Why the hell was he here? Would he be shown mercy, or would he be plucked from the herd? How could anyone be so savage?

Another bout of nerves trickles down your spine.

“Oh, nevermind.” Waving the thought away, he rests his elbows on his lap and leans towards you, voice hushed. “You remind me of someone in my youth. She was a funny girl.”

You can’t help but chuckle, raising a brow. “Funny?”

“Funny.” He sighs in thought. “Always telling stories.”

Even though his voice is far away, and even though he’s clearly not in his right mind, some weird feeling settles in your gut. Like you’d been caught, somehow. So little had been said but you stared at him, bewildered. What was he on about? Did he know you were lying? How?

“Well… Regardless, be careful tonight, yeah? We’ll come find you.”

There he goes, waving his hand again. It’s almost like he doesn't believe you. Or maybe he just doesn’t understand how dire the entire ordeal was.

You try to gag down that weird feeling, but it’s hard, uncomfortable. Instead of letting it wrack your brain, you decide to just chalk it up to him being a senile old man and leave at that. There was no way he knew anything about you. This man was a total stranger. There's movement in the corner of your eye and you’re all too relieved to focus on something else.

Gi-hun stands before you.

“Where are you sleeping?” He sits next to you and leans forward. You point to the top bed, and he sighs in relief before pointing to the highest bed neighboring yours. “I’ll be there. If you’re attacked-”

“Find you guys.”

He lingers over your face for a couple seconds, before he turns and stares forward. “Are you worried?”

“No.” Your voice leaves you too fast, too forced. Wringing hands, bleeding cuticles. You swallow it all down. The same as you’d done your entire life. “Are you?”

At first, he thinks on it. But you already know the answer. He nods once. “I think things are going to go bad, tonight.”

There’s a heavy silence that befalls you, thickening the gap between yours and his shoulders. You stare at the floor. “...I hope not.”

Then, Gi-hun blurts something out, something that’s supposed to be genuine but only in the way he would mean it.

“You can move your pillow to my bed.”

Instantly, your cheeks are warm. “E-Excuse me?”

The crazy thing is that he doesn’t even register what he’d said as anything other than innocent. He just stares at you with expectant eyes and an expression so sincere it has you second guessing your reaction. But then, those eyes widen.

“Wait- Wait, not like that. I just meant that- You know, so that way you wouldn’t have to worry!” He’s stammering and rambling. “Not next to each other, no, more like, if you slept one on one end and I’d sleep on the other.”

It’s almost alluring. You kind of want to say yes. He’s swallowing hard and his face is red by the time he lets up enough to let you actually answer. It leaves you in a gentle rejection.

“Thanks but, no thanks.”

“Of course, of course.” His expression is strained as he watches everyone climb into their beds. The nerves are getting real, now. Time was moving faster than you could keep up with.

“Lights out in five minutes.” A voice echoes from a speaker. You feel your stomach drop.

Standing up, you hide the way your hands shake, just a little.

“You know where we are.” Gi-hun murmurs.

“Thank you.” You breathe.

The climb up to your bed just before lights out felt like it took an eternity. Step after step up the stairs that suddenly seemed deadly hard, climbing onto your bed at the top bunk, observing for what could be your last time. Suddenly everything your eyes could see was dangerous. It felt like the zero hour- that any second now, all of this hush-hush would erupt into an inferno of violence. Your entire life you grew up proud of your ability to hold your own. Prided yourself that you didn’t need anyone- you didn’t need anything.

And yet, when you lay down, the very first thing you do is share glances with Gi-hun from his bunk. You feel exposed, cold. Vulnerable.

If you’re attacked, find them.

Gi-hun nods at you, a silent pact. You nod back.

The lights drop out and bathe you in darkness.

You wished you had said yes.

That night, it was a scream that set it all into motion. A scream that sliced through the darkness and had you launching up from your spot.

Your eyes frantically searched the room, seeing movement at every corner, every bed. Violence. Absolute chaos. A dozen screams echoed off the walls, shrill enough to make you cover your ears as you peeked over your bed to watch down below. Merely a few feet down laid a body, blood spilling from their throat and soaking into their clothes, their bed sheet wrapped around their head. Player’s tripped over the corpse as they fought to escape their attackers.

Before you could even move, you felt your world flip upside down.

Actually, it was your entire bed. Gravity fell through and you were sent tumbling to the floor, hitting the hard ground with a crack that sent waves of pain rippling down your sides. You gasped for air, struggling to regain your footing. You pressed your palms flat down to heave yourself up onto your knees but your right arm slipped in something wet, something warm. You smacked your chin off the floor and felt blood pill and drip down your chin from your lips. All you could taste was copper.

Flashing lights blinded you, bodies moved from every direction.

When you finally managed to bring yourself to your knees, and then to your wobbly feet, you could only vaguely get an understanding of the devastation before you.

Bodies everywhere. Blood spilling and pooling at every step. You brought your hands up and a crack of white light revealed what you had slipped in, exactly what you were afraid of. Crimson red dripped down from your palm into the ditch of your arm. You felt sick.

You were scared.

Another flicker of pulsating light allows you to take in your immediate surroundings. Other than the blood, you see beds and pillows scattered amongst the floor.

Your first thought is to hide. To crawl underneath a bed and wait it all out praying no one dragged you away kicking and screaming.

But then, you see him.

You see Gi-hun trapped between the bars of a tipped over bed frame, struggling to break free, wide eyes darting from left to right in his frenzy. Without even thinking, you dash for him. You pay no mind to the people laying at your feet, or the way that you almost slip on your way over in yet another puddle of blood. All you care about is making it to him. His knuckles are white with the force of trying to pry the frame off of him to no avail. You press your foot up against the standing frame he’s laying on and grab onto bars of those holding him in place, and then you heave with everything you’ve got in you. It lifts just enough for him to wriggle out from under its hold, ducking and crawling between the bars until he’s free and scrabbling to his feet beside you.

You take a moment to assess him, grabbing his shoulders, grabbing his arms.

He’s okay.

You don’t even think to assess yourself. But he does it for you. He touches your bleeding chin and you swat his hold away.

“I’m fi-”

In a blur, you’re ripped by your hair backwards and sent skittering on the floor. Your head cracks back and you can’t tell if the flashes are coming from behind your eyes or in front of them anymore. In a disoriented haze, you find yourself suddenly lifted.

You don’t even know what’s happening. Everythings a blur and your head is aching something awful and warmth is dripping down the backside of your neck. You manage to force your eyes open and then you see her- player 067. She’s gripping you by the collar of your shirt in one hand, the other wedged underneath your arm. Blood spatters the side of her face. Her eyes are dark and dangerous.

Initially, the first thing you can think to do is rip yourself out of her grasp. So, you try. You shove against her chest and flail until she inevitably loses grip and you barely manage to launch backwards without falling over. She’s staring at you, ready. Waiting.

Fear seizes you as you realize you can’t fight her like this- barely even conscious. Moving like a drunk and unable to comprehend the riot.

Her voice manages to reach you, however, in one shout.

”Duck!”

Okay, you comprehend that. You send yourself to your knees on the floor with your arms instinctively crossing over your head to protect yourself. There’s a zip in the air, then the unmistakable sound of metal colliding with metal. Over your shoulder, with just a glance, you see a dark figure standing behind you and raising a metal pole to try their chance at a second time. The light glints off the bar as they prepare to crack it back down over your head.

You hurl yourself out of the way from the floor, kicking the person in the shins. They fumble forward, gripping their leg with a hissing groan of pain, giving you a chance to rush to your feet. 067 grabs you by the fabric of your tracksuit and yanks you until you’re upright, and then she’s shoving something hard and metal into your grip.

Then, she’s gone, disappeared into the flashing lights and oceans of chaos. A small, broken bar sits heavy in your hands.

You don’t get the chance to think before you react when you feel yourself grabbed at the shoulder and spun around, face to face with a man twice your size. He rears a fist back.

There’s a microsecond of calm. Like you finally woke up.

You knew how to fight. You’d done it your whole life.

You dodge his swing, jumping back, before you bring the pole up and swing it directly to the side of the man's skull. He loses his balance, grabbing at his head, and you take the chance to plant the bottom of your foot on his stomach and ram your heel into his gut. He spits out a groan and stumbles but the fucker just won’t go down.

So. You hit him again.

Thwack right over the head- and that does it. He crumbles to the floor in a heap of writhing limbs. It’s not the worst thing you’ve ever done.

All your senses come flooding back to you at once.

Gi-hun.

Sangwoo. Ali.

You spin on your heels in search. You can’t be alone like this.

The old man.

Where the hell were they?

You pass by bunk after bunk, ducking and sauntering. Your nerves are starting to spill into your throat. With each second, a body drops, and you can’t find a single one of your friends.��

“Gi-hun!” You cry into the darkness, lost in the endless cries and pleas of a dozen others. “Sang-woo!”

You needed protection.

You find yourself in a small opening, three standing bunks and one tipped on an angle, forming a barrier. Just beyond the make-shift wall of beams, movement shifts just where your eyes struggle to reach. Two hulking figures with broad shoulders, ready to lunge at any moment, lurking, waiting for you to slip up and hop within reach from the otherside of the tipped over bunk. Another figure closes in on the opposite side of you, the only other opening. You recognize him- the man you’d kicked in the leg. A viscous grin playing over his lips as he closes in on you. You’re being circled. You ran right into a corner like a cat before snarling hounds.

If you’re attacked, find them.

“Sang-woo!” You cry, holding the bar to you, swinging every time the man steps too close. If he gets his hands on you, it’s over. “Sang-woo!”

You have to get out of here.

An arm shoots out from the barrier of bars, one of the two men swiping as you back away from the third. Your eyes can’t keep up with all of them. You’re outnumbered. You’re injured. You have to make a break for it- you have to. Your group is nowhere to be found and at this point you feel like they’re definitely dead. You have to save yourself, dash as far as you can get and pray that you’re lost in the flashing lights.

But then you realize what you’re looking at through the jungle of bars.

You realize that the bed they’re looming over is where the old man had slept. There’s a mass underneath all those tipped over crossing beams, smothered and crushed by the weight of the frames. The unmistakable fabric of the tracksuit is just barely visible underneath it all. Your breath stops.

He could be dead.

You don’t have time.

He could be injured.

You’ll die if you stay here.

They’ll kill him.

They’ll kill you. Think of yourself.

Think of yourself.

But you don’t.

You don’t think of yourself when you leap towards him.

You dive under and drag him out.

Only to discover all that remains is his mattress and pillow. His jacket crumpled in a pile, abandoned. Your stomach sinks into the bowels of your guts.

A hand shoots through the gaps of the bars and grabs you by the shoulder, yanks and rams you into the beams of the frame once, twice, until your head bounces off the metal. Your hands unclench, the bar falling from your grasp and clanging onto the floor. When you’re let go, the force sends you toppling down once more, the ground just as hard and uninviting as the first time you met it.

You don’t get a second of reprieve. The third man pounces on you.

His massive hand latches onto your ankle and rips you towards him, your belly dragging over the tiles, your arms swinging wildly, scrambling to find purchase on anything you could get. His other hand grabs your other leg, flipping you onto your back.

There’s weight so heavy on your shins and thighs you really feel like you may be crushed under it, thrashing and clawing blindly as the lights flashed and disoriented you even further. You catch your nails into something soft- hair, you realize, and you grab so tight it hurts your knuckles and you wrench to the side in a frantic attempt to pull off your attacker.

There’s a satisfying crack when his head rams into metal. For just a second, for a blink of an eye, you have hope.

But you were wrong.

He hauls your hand away from his hair, taking chunks with it before striking your shoulder until it was numb with vibrations traveling all the way down to the tips of your fingers. You cried out and punched at his shoulders, his chest, anything you possibly could with your other arm. You kicked, you writhed. All for naught.

There’s hands on your throat, squeezing. You still and grapple at his wrists as fireworks explode behind your eyes. His grip is impossibly tight- your face is hot and it feels like your eyes are going to burst right from your skull.

You can’t even scream.

He isn’t budging.

You were going to die.

Choked and wretched gasps weasel their way from your lips. Your body goes numb, starting in your toes and fingers. Drool slips down your chin. Flashing images and faces from your life fill your vision.

Your childhood friends. A teacher that actually meant something to you.

A photo of your dad that your mom often cried over.

The sounds of chaos and bloodshed seem far away.

Your childhood cat.

No one would notice you were gone. No one, except your little group. Gi-hun.

Your friend's house. The sun poking through leaves overhead.

You don’t have it in you to fight anymore. Your arms fall heavy at your sides as the last bit of your life is choked out of you.

What a lousy life you had lived.

----

When you finally get the chance to breathe again, you suck in a breath so greedy and gulping that it sends you sputtering into wet coughs. You feel again- and it’s cold and everything hurts but you can feel. Your legs are kicking uselessly at the floor, your heels slipping in blood. You claw at your throat, wheezing and gasping. A hand appears in your hair, another sliding underneath your upper back and jerking you up. That man still towers over you, toying with you. Blindly, you press your hands to his chest and you shove as hard as you could possibly manage.

It does absolutely nothing.

“No!” You bark, voice hoarse. “Get off of me!”

A third hand grabbing your wrist. You wail. When was this going to fucking end?

“No!”

There’s so many voices you can’t even comprehend it. They’re all far away and echoing like you're underwater, drowning. That’s exactly what it feels like. Drowning- sinking and suffocating and barely managing to pop your head over the surface just long enough to wheeze in a breath of life and start all over again.

You’re being touched everywhere and you just want it all to stop- every time you try to wrench yourself away it seems another grip just stops you. You’re covered in fucking hands and you can’t do anything to get them off of you. You just want this to be over with. Waves are crashing over your ears.

You think you hear your name among them.

It’s faint, but it’s there. You know the voice. You’re dreaming, you think.

You’re dying.

“It’s me!” The man is holding your face in his hands. “It’s me!”

When you finally manage to open your eyes, you expect to see the man towering over you. Evil. Unrelenting.

But it isn't. You see Gi-hun.

There’s blood on his suit, cuts on his face. Fresh bruises are already appearing along his cheeks. His face lights up when you meet his vision.

“There you are! It’s me!” He wraps himself around you like a shield. Bright light beams and shines into your eyes. There’s guards and guns as far as the eye can see.

If this was the afterlife, you’d obviously been sent to hell. But, then again, there’s arms wrapped around you, petting down your back and cupping the back of your head. You can’t recall a time in your life you’d been held so… Tenderly.

So maybe it’s heaven.

You’re still numb, buzzing. Nothing feels real anymore. From over his shoulder you can see two figures- Ali and Sang-woo you realize, both wielding pipes and guarding. Ali in particular white knuckling a pole almost the same size as you.

You’re alive.

Holy shit, you’re alive.

To your right, you see her again. 067.

She’s beaten and bruised up, but she sits back on her haunches and watches you regain whatever composure you were able to scrounge up. She gives you a single nod.

Thank you. You nod back. Your ears ring.

Oh, Gi-hun is still talking to you. He’s running his hand through your hair. It feels like you can breathe again.

It’s me. You’re okay. It’s me.

Maybe it is heaven, after all.

When he pulls back, you’re cold. Again. You don’t realize the way you chase him, arms coming out to grasp at his biceps, desperate to keep him there. You’re barely only some-what conscious, still reeling with the after effects of being mere seconds away from meeting your maker. He holds your hands in his, and then you notice the blood. It’s all over him, it’s all over you. Your hands, your arms. Down your shoulders and soaking into the collar of your track suit. There’s a metallic tang of blood on your tongue, too.

Blood, blood, blood.

“You hit your head,“ He says, noticing the way your breath sucks in sharply at the sight. “It’s just a cut And this-” His thumb swipes over your lower lip, a sharp sting in his wake. You hiss and recoil. “You’re good. See? You just bit your lip.”

You aren’t sure why he’s talking you through your own injuries, as if you can’t feel them pulsating and rocketing surges of pain up and down your spine. You aren’t even sure why you’re alive right now.

“I’m good,” You echo him. You don’t feel good. “I’m good.”

Gi-hun rests a hand on your cheek, turning your head left and right, assessing you. He drags his thumb down your cheek bones, before he gently pats you. His eyes are tender, thankful. Pretty.

“Get up.” Someone demands, their voice deep and testing. It’s a guard, you realize, standing feet away. Ali, Sang-woo, and 067 stand with their hands up, weapons discarded on the crimson splattered floors. Gi-hun hops to his feet and drags you up with him a little too fast for you to handle, your legs unable to hold the entirety of your weight. He hoists you up by the waist.

“She’s hurt.” He tells the guard, as if they’d cared. As if they’d help.

When the person steps to you, tall and brooding with a O bore onto their mask, you almost think that maybe they would. But then they simply pat your pockets and move on just as fast as they’d arrived. Bodies are being carted out in coffins. There’s so much death it’s hard to believe.

101 eyes you from the other side of the room and sneers.

You don’t even care. Your head is pounding, your neck hurts. But you’re alive, so he could kindly go fuck himself.

Along the distant wall, standing on a top bunk, you see the old man. It almost brings tears of joy to your eyes. Everyone’s alive.

And once everything settles, the bodies dragged away, the guards filtering out, the remaining competitors regrouping to their little corners, you find yourself sitting among steps with everyone else. Tired, and sore. Gi-hun is saying something that you can’t quite tune into. Something about his bed tipping. You offer little to their conversations, eyes distant and vacant, reliving the night. Surprisingly, Sang-woo is what drags your attention back to the present. He reaches over Gi-hun and pats your arm.

You’re embarrassed that you jump.

“Thank you, by the way.” He says, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him look at you without this… Skepticism in them.

“For what?”

He notions towards Gi-hun. “For being on our side. I’m glad you’re not injured too badly.”

For a long, long moment you just stare at him. Your skin is warm. Maybe because your head was swimming. Maybe because now you were realizing you weren’t just sitting amongst them purely for survival.

“Well, thank you too, for,” Your fingers reach up mindlessly and graze over the sore spots on your neck. “Being on my side. I would have died.”

Over light conversations, trust building, Gi-hun calls it, you learn 067’s name. Sae-byeok.

Thank you, Sae-byeok.Even if I thought you were trying to kill me at first.

“How’s your head?” Gi-hun suddenly asks. When you fail to answer quick enough for his liking, he knocks his knee against yours. You aren’t sure what to say. It fucking hurts, but you’d make it.

Why did your chest feel so tight every time he asked? It was making your head pound even worse.

It takes you the rest of that morning to realize you’d never truly, in your life, felt cared for. The thought makes your heart seize up in your chest. Makes your blood flash hot and cold at once.

This was not the plan.

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