About : This blog will mostly contain writing. Some posts about my other projects or hobbies can also appear from time to time. Most of my writings will be "x plus size Reader". So, hello fellow plus size girlies~~
I don't take requests since I'm a slow writer, you'll wait an eternity if you request something. Sorry in advance.
Fandoms I write for : Kpop -> For Ateez and Stray Kids, for every members of the groups.
Squid Game -> I write for In-ho, Gi-hun, Thanos and Nam-Gyu (separately or as a polyamorous relationship), The Salesman, Dae-ho. I may also write Inhun from time to time.
Other fandoms may be added in the future~~
Those fics will most likely contain smut. So MDNI !!
My works are also posted on ao3 !
This blog is here as a safe place for creation and sharing for crafty people. Feel free to come and interact â¤ď¸
Switch it up like Nintendo : Kang Yeosang x Reader
Summary : By dating Yeosang, you quickly learned that he likes to unwind from a long day by taking you to bed. Though tonight you want to spice things up a bit...
Content warning : MDNI, smut, sub!Yeosang, dom!Reader, pegging, a bit of dirty talk, penetration, oral sex mentioned, read at your own risks.
Disclaimer : English is not my first language, so sorry for any language or grammar mistakes.
The more you got to know Ateez, the more you got to know their ways of relaxing. They were often busy and they had to make the most of their free time. Each member had their own way to relax : from working out to gaming, from traveling to simply lounge on the dormsâ couch. And for your boyfriend YeosangâŚ
âNgh⌠too muchâŚâ Yeosang whines under you, voice muffled by the pillow heâs hugging tightly, looking at you over his shoulder, cheeks flushed deep and eyes shining with unshed tears. From pain or pleasure ? You couldnât tell.
âShh⌠itâs alrightâŚâ You coo, reaching to brush the blonde strands away from his sweaty forehead, your other hand gently stroking his hip. âYouâre doing so wellâŚâ
He huffs, not really convinced, his brows furrowed as he gets accustomed to the stretch and fullness. Your hands run up and down his sweaty back to relax him further, gently massaging him before resting on the swell of his ass. You grab both cheeks to spread him open, watching your hips pressed flush against his ass, your strap completely swallowed by his lubed hole and you bite your lower lip at the sight. âIâm all the way in nowâŚâ You whisper, slowly rolling your hips to see his reaction.
Yeosang moans, the sensation new for him. He suggested pegging not so long ago, telling you with flushed cheeks that he saw the strap-on in the box where you kept all your other toys and accessories. You remember that time, you took the box from under your bed and opened it for him the day he wanted to use a vibrator on you. You didnât think he had that much time to see every toy you had in detail.
Maybe he didnât, but his eyes were drawn to that black leather strap-on with its pink dildo attached. He told you that he often thought about what it would do to be fucked like he did to you.
You honestly wouldnât have taken your boyfriend for the kind of person wanting to be pegged. You thought your pink strap-on would collect dust in its box and that it would be money thrown out of the window. However, who were you to deny your sweet Yeosang anything? And when he told you he already fingered himself to see how it would feel and that he wanted more? You were done for.
He was on all fours under you, back arched, his face partially hidden by the pillow he was holding, though it was doing little to stifle his breathy moans. His honeyed skin was lightened by the soft glow of the TV, the beads of sweat running down his back almost making him ethereal.
Soft lo-fi music played in the background, more as a way to set the mood rather than concealing the noises you would make. You wanted everything to be perfect for him, to keep him relaxed, take your time with him, tease him like he did to you when he was in one of his moods.
Your hands reach around to stroke his thighs, the muscles clenching under your fingers. You purposefully avoid his throbbing cock, not wanting to rush things. He lets out a frustrated moan when you do so, trying to buck his hips towards your hand, needing your touch on his painful arousal. You smile, leaning in to press a small kiss between his shoulder blades.Â
You draw your hips back, making Yeosang whimper at your sudden movement, leaving only the tip of your strap inside, you watch as his hole clenches around you, trying to suck you back in. âYou like that?â You tease, slowly thrusting back in, letting out a shaky breath when you hear him moan again.
You set up a languid pace, letting him grow accustomed to the feeling, and you chuckle when you see him move his hips back, trying to fuck himself back on your strap. âFuck⌠need moreâŚâ He whines, his fingers clutching the pillow tighter, every nerve on fire with each stroke of your strap along his sensitive walls.
Your thrusts falter slightly. Yeosang wasnât usually the swearing type. He only did it when you had sex, too lost in pleasure to care about what he said. He buries his face into the pillow, trying to stifle his moans. It felt too much and not enough at the same time. He needed more of you. He wanted you to reach that special spot inside him, the one he fingered too many times and that made him see stars. It would feel so good coming from his sweet girl.
Pleasure was building up so much faster now that he just let you fuck him senseless. He was so hard it hurts, his cock hanging heavily between his thighs and leaking all over the sheets. His fingers clenched with the urge to touch himself, to take more than what you were already giving him. He was torn between wanting to give in to the pleasure and not wanting to cum too fast.
âMore?â You pant, snapping your hips harshly, making him jolt. âYes! Please, yes!â He cries out, his knees threatening to give out. Heâs unable to push himself back up as you start to thrust with more force, your hips snapping wetly against his every time you bottom out. Youâre squeezing his waist so hard youâre sure you were going to leave bruises, but you didnât care. The sight of Yeosang under you, moaning and drooling all over the pillow had you dripping, and you could feel yourself coat the leather of the strap with your arousal. You moaned with every thrust, loving the power it gave you.
You try to tilt your hips with every plunge, wanting to find that spot inside him that would make him see stars. Youâre rewarded when he cries out your name as his eyes roll back, his hips jerking to meet your thrusts. âOh, right here⌠fuckâŚâ he rasps, his back arching, his hole clenching around you, trying to suck you in even deeper. You move with purpose now, the blunt head of the strap hitting his prostate with each thrust, reducing Yeosang to a whimpering mess under you. âFeels so⌠goodâŚâ He moans.
You lean over, your breasts pressing against his damp back. âShh⌠I know, I know you need to cumâŚâ You breathe into his ear, your hand resting over his, intertwining your fingers. âI know Iâve kept you waitingâŚâ You add, your tone dripping with false remorse. Before you started to fuck him, you spent long minutes sucking his cock, giving him a sense of power by letting him fuck your throat before pulling out and taking him again, continuing that game of sending him over the edge without letting him cum, leaving him whimpering and frustrated before he pushed you away to roll over his belly and spread himself open for you.
You let go of his hand to place your fingers under his chin, tilting it up to make him look at you. He was doing so good for you, stepping out of his comfort zone to allow you both to explore new territories. You kiss him eagerly, your tongue flicking against his and you moan when he bites at your lower lip, reminding you that he was still in control. He allowed you to fuck him and you should be grateful for it. You swallow each otherâs moans, the kiss growing messy, both of you chasing the otherâs lips as your bodies jerk with your thrusts. âYeosangâŚâ You whimper, feeling as desperate as him.
You sit back up and grip Yeosangâs hips more firmly. You were panting, your thighs straining with the effort of pounding. Only a few minutes in and you were already struggling, while Yeosang could take you for several rounds. Either he wasnât human or you were lacking practice. You tilt your head back and close your eyes, letting yourself get cradled by the soft lo-fi music coming from the TV behind you, basking in the sounds of Yeosangâs whimpers and smacking flesh, lewd and raw but so real.
You reach around to wrap your fingers around Yeosangâs neglected cock, pumping him in rhythm with your thrusts, his precum quickly coating your fingers. He feels tears start to well up in his eyes. It was both too much and not enough and he couldnât decide if he wanted to fuck himself deeper on your strap or fuck his throbbing cock into your hand. âWho wouldâve thought you loved being fucked that much, uh?â You tease, breathless.
Yeosang nods frantically, his moans desperate now. âNgh⌠love it⌠please âm closeâŚâ He pants, clenching around you. He doesnât want it to stop but he feels so close, it feels too good. His nerves are on fire, waves of pleasure rushing through him every time your strap brushes against his prostate. It feels better, different, he doesnât know anymore, he just doesnât want it to stop.
You lean over to whisper into his ear. âLet go for meâŚâ You could feel it, his cock throbbing and leaking in your hand, his balls drawn tight and heavy every time you tugged down, he was close, and it was going to be powerful.Â
You aim for his prostate again, your hand twisting up to stroke his flushed tip and Yeosang tips over the edge. He cries out, his body falling forwards as he comes, spilling all over your knuckles and the sheets below you. Itâs a lot, and you hear each warm rope falling onto the bed with a wet plop. Heâs babbling at his point, weakly thrusting into your hand to prolong his orgasm even though heâs already overstimulated.Â
He closes his eyes to stop the black spots from dancing over his vision. He falls limp onto the bed, his body shaking with the aftershocks. You lean over him to gently kiss his shoulder, pulling out of him, his abused hole twitching weakly with the absence. He straightens his legs on the bed, not caring in the slightest that he lies in a small puddle of his own cum, too blissed out to think about anything else.
You lie down on your side, facing him. You gently stroke his lower back to ease the pain that will surely be here. âWas I too rough?â You ask, hoping you didnât hurt him in your excitement. Your hand runs up his back and to his sweat damp hair, brushing the strands away from his forehead.
Yeosang shakes his head, his face squished against the pillow. âIt was perfectâŚâ he mumbles, catching his breath. âWill we do it again?â He asks, his cock twitching weakly at the thought of you taking him again, maybe in another position.
You sit up to take the strap off, ignoring the mess in between your own thighs for now. That night was for Yeosang and you were glad he loved it. You wrap your arms to spoon him, pressing your breasts against his back as he moves to accommodate you, your smaller frame perfectly curling over him. âOf course.â You grin, nuzzling against the crook of his neck.
âJust⌠not soon. I already feel like tomorrowâs practice is going to be painfulâŚâ He sighs, putting his hands over yours where theyâre stroking his chest.
âCanât promise.â You grin. Yeosang just smiles, knowing you were just teasing at this point. He closes his eyes, your warm body pressed against his and the soft music from the TV quickly lulling him to sleep.
Summary : After the second game and the ensuing vote, both Gi-hun and Young-il are frustrated. Young-il, eager to capitalize on their mutual attraction, arranges for them to spend some time alone to unwind. Their bathroom scene occurs.
Author's note : My first ever fanfic published on Tumblr. This work is also posted on ao3. Feel free to leave a comment or like if you liked it. Enjoy~~
The second game ended. All the players came back from the six-legged pentathlon. More people died, and some people criticized Gi-hun because the game was different from three years ago. Fortunately, Young-il stepped in and calmed things down, and Gi-hun was grateful, even though the latter chose to stay in the first place. After todayâs slaughter, Gi-hun hoped that some people would change their minds during the next vote.
Gi-hun and his team barely made it through. Everyone completed their respective game, and they crossed the finish line, so Gi-hun didnât understand why Young-il looked so frustrated. He was silent, but his eyes said a lot. He sat on his bed, with his forearms resting on his knees, which were pushed back against his chest. His face was strained as he stared into space.
Gi-hun joined him and gently laid his hand on his friendâs shoulder. Young-il startled and turned to face Gi-hun. âIs everything ok?â He inquired.
âYes.â Young-il responded, glancing momentarily at the hand still resting on his shoulder before turning back to face Gi-hun. âItâs just that⌠we almost all died because of me.â
âWhat!â Gi-hun asked, a look of surprise crossing his face, unaware of what his friend meant by that.
âThe spinning top. I had to try a few times, and you⌠you were almost out of time for the jegichagi. You saved us all, Gi-hun.â Young-il smiled and gently patted the hand still on his shoulder.
âNo, no.â Gi-hun argued, avoiding his friendâs gaze. Flustered, he finally removed his hand from Young-ilâs shoulder. âAll teams made mistakes. Itâs not unusual to fail a few times with armed guards next to you. Trust me, during my first entry, I often won the games just in time.â Gi-hun tried his best to comfort his friend. However, he didnât know what he could add to brighten Young-ilâs still gloomy expression.
Young-il sighed and turned to face his friend. âI understand what you mean, Gi-hun. Unfortunately, if the games continue, I canât allow myself to make any more mistakes. Especially if we team up again. I wouldnât want toâŚâ He paused, averting Gi-hunâs stare. âGet you killed because of me.â
âDonât worry. Weâre a team, so we help one another. Iâll do what it takes, and less people will be killed. The Xs just have to win tonightâs vote.â Gi-hun said, confident.
âThe cash prize will increase again. Other players will be tempted to stay. In any case, Iâll change my vote tonight, Gi-hun. I canât risk you getting killed after everything you did to help us during the first games.â
While waiting for tonightâs vote, the two friends exchanged glances and smiled, even though their eyes were still tinged with frustration and anxiety.
~~*~~
The lights were out and Young-il was lying awake in his bed. He heard Gi-hun toss and turn in his own bed, likely still upset about the outcome of tonightâs vote. Another game will take place tomorrow because the Os won. Gi-hun and his friends didnât consider that the opinion could change from both sides. And players who wanted to leave yesterday wanted to play another game tomorrow.
Young-il was still frustrated because of the spinning top earlier that day. Although he had faith in Gi-hunâs abilities, he purposefully failed his first throws in an attempt to dash his hope even further. Unfortunately, he miscalculated some details, and Young-il didnât know if Gi-hun would quickly succeed the jegichagi. Luckily, the latter did it on his first attempt and they crossed the finish line at the last moment.
Young-il couldnât let Gi-hun die too fast. First, he had to lose all hope, and Young-il would take care of it himself. Some would say he was obsessed, but he didnât care. He came here to observe Gi-hun and better understand his thought process. And Young-il knew that the latter could feel his heavy gaze on him. When Gi-hun stared back, his eyes were initially wary, but during the second game, they were tinted with a hint of interest. And they sparkled with joy when he cheered the other teams while gripping Young-ilâs shoulders.
It was no secret that Young-il was physically attracted to Gi-hun, and he occasionally stared at the manâs thin lips without hesitation. If some of Gi-hunâs friends saw him do it, he didnât care. He noted that this attraction wasnât completely one-sided, anyway. Even though he became withdrawn after his first participation three years before, Gi-hun was still someone tactile by nature. Yet, Young-il noticed that when Gi-hun touched him, his hands would linger on him longer than necessary, causing his body to heat up in ways he wasnât aware of for a very long time.
Young-il stood up and made his way to Gi-hunâs bed. The latter noticed him only when he rolled over in his bed one more time. His hard expression softened when he saw his friend.
âSorry if I woke you up.â Gi-hun apologized, always putting other peopleâs well-being before his own.
âYou didnât wake me up; I couldnât sleep anyway.â Young-il answered, waving his hand in the air. âEarlier, I could hear you toss and turn. Does the result of tonightâs vote bothers you that much?â It was a rhetorical question; Young-il perfectly knew that it was the cause of his friendâs agitation.
âIt does.â Gi-hun sighed, sitting up. âI knew that we wouldnât have much of an advantage over the Os, but being forced to continue⌠people are truly blinded by money.â
âThe first time, you played the games until the end, right? If you didnât do it for the money, then why?â Young-il snorted.
âI just wanted to get out of here alive. And I ended up being the only winner. This money is stained with the blood of innocent people. I hardly used it. I came back to put an end to all of it, but I feel like itâs going nowhere right now.â Gi-hun ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. âAnyway, I appreciate you keeping your word and changing your vote.â Gi-hun smiled softly.
âI told you so.â Young-il whispered, cupping Gi-hunâs cheek, turning his face so he could meet his eyes. âIâll do whatever it takes to keep us alive tomorrow because I donât want to see you die.â
Gi-hun blushed and averted his eyes, gently pushing Young-ilâs hand away from his cheek. âAhem⌠I remember. I trust you for tomorrow. At the same time, weâll also try to protect the others.â
Young-il simply nodded. He had no intention of protecting the others. Only Gi-hun mattered, and he didnât want to make his job easier. But for now, Gi-hun ignored his attempts to make advances to him, and Young-il was frustrated. He became increasingly annoyed by it. Gi-hun had to concede to him, add another string to his bow. Treason will be more painful if Gi-hun is attached to him. However, something buried deep inside Young-il found Gi-hunâs selfless and optimistic nature endearing. Maybe his intentions werenât fully motivated by revenge. Young-il had to be careful; he shouldnât let himself get drawn too.
Young-il focused back on Gi-hun, who looked lost in thought. He needed to be alone with him; both men needed to release the pent-up frustration. Young-il saw his friendâs tensed shoulders and strained jaw. âGi-hun, Your forehead is sweaty. Come with me; weâll cool you down.â Young-il got back to his feet and reached his hand towards his friend.
Gi-hun only watched him with wide eyes, surprised by the comment. He ran a slightly shaky hand through his forehead, which was lined with a fine layer of sweat. He shivered. Some cold water would do him some good. âBut how do you want to convince the guards to let us out?â Gi-hun asked, taking Young-ilâs hand. He lifted Gi-hun up and began to guide him towards the doors, their hands still linked.
âDonât worry. We just want to go to the bathroom.â
They reached the doors, and Young-il knocked on the porthole. The metal plane blocking the view opened, and a guard appeared. His masked face was painted with a white triangle.
âExcuse us; my friend and I need to go to the bathroom.â Young-il grinned, pointing his thumb in Gi-hunâs direction. Despite his smile, his eyes made his employee understand that he wouldnât take no for an answer.
The door opened, and Young-il took Gi-hunâs hand again, guiding him through the colored hallways. âHurry up.â The guard warned as the pair went past him. Young-il just tsked without looking back.
âHow did you do it?â Gi-hun asked, bewildered by how easily the guard let them go out.
âNever mind; the most important thing is that we passed.â Young-il eluded.
The pair arrived in the bathroom, and Gi-hun let go of his friendâs hand to head towards one of the sinks and splash some water onto his face. The contrast of the cold water on his heated skin made him shiver, but he gave a satisfied sigh at the sensation.
As his gaze remained locked on the sink, he felt more than he saw Young-ilâs presence behind his back, close to him. He could almost feel the warmth radiating from his friendâs body. Gi-hun lifted his head and saw Young-il's reflection in the mirror, staring at the nape of his neck. He shivered again, but not due to the temperature difference.
âY-young-il⌠what-â Gi-hun stammered, turning back to face his friend.
Young-il suddenly gripped the sinkâs rim, interrupting his friend, Young-il's arms now framing Gi-hunâs body, denying him any escape. Their bodies were nearly pushed against each other, and Gi-hun's breath started to grow heavier when he saw his friendâs eyes staring at his lips. Young-il moved closer, his lips almost touching Gi-hunâs, their breath mingling. âI brought us here because I felt that we both needed to blow off some steam. I hope that you donât mind my little ploy.â Young-il smiled.
âN-no.â Gi-hun stammered as he felt his friendâs fingers slide on his hands and along his arms. He tried to ignore his attraction for Young-il, the omnipresence of death in the games forcing him to withdraw. But now, with his friendâs lips mere inches from his, he was struck full force by the strength of Young-ilâs mutual attraction. And faced with its physical expression, Gi-hun was paralyzed, his brain refusing to cooperate.
Young-il took action and closed the distance between them, joining their lips in a curious but burning kiss. Immediately, Gi-hun responded to it and ran the tip of his tongue against Young-ilâs lips, begging for entrance. The latter parted his lips without hesitation, and their tongues met each other in a fiery dance. Gi-hun put his arms around Young-ilâs neck and ran his fingers through his dark hair.
Young-il gently stroked Gi-hunâs waist and pushed his body against his. Their erections rubbed against each other, their tracksuit pants the only barrier between them, and Gi-hun moaned into the kiss, slightly pulling at Young-ilâs hair, making him groan. Gi-hun had always been sensitive to touch, but he was far too old to be so aroused by a single kiss. Young-ilâs influence on him was exhilarating, and Gi-hun wanted more of it.
Young-il ended the kiss and looked at Gi-hun, their eyes clouded by desire. âWeâd better go inside a stall. Just in case someone else enters.â Gi-hun just nodded and followed his friend into one of the stalls. As soon as the door shut behind them, Gi-hun was pinned against it, Young-ilâs lips devouring him again.
Their second kiss was more languid, both men not bothering to hide their intentions. Unfortunately, they were short on time; they had to be quick. But that didnât mean that they couldnât do it properly.
Young-il lowered the zipper of Gi-hunâs jacket, opening it to run his hands under his shirt and feel his slender chest. Gi-hun startled when he felt Young-ilâs fingers brush his nipple, and he slightly bit Young-ilâs lower lip, making him buck his hips against Gi-hunâs. Young-ilâs lips left small kisses down Gi-hunâs throat, before settling on the neglected nipple. He bit it through the fabric, and Gi-hun whimpered, throwing his head back and knocking it against the door.
âBe careful, Gi-hun.â Young-il laughed and stroked the back of Gi-hunâs head, as if he wanted to ease the pain, even though there was none in the first place.
Young-ilâs hand went lower to rub Gi-hunâs ass while his lips went back to the sensitive skin of his neck to bite at it, this time, without mercy. He left some hickeys that the player wouldnât be able to hide. Gi-hun bit back a moan, unsure if the guards behind the door could hear them. Young-il felt like Gi-hun belonged to him. That he was only his and nobody elseâs. Young-il ignored the pang of jealousy he felt when he thought about Gi-hun and Jung-baeâs friendship, instead focusing his attention on his friendâs body.
Young-il pulled away from Gi-hun to take his own jacket off and throw it behind him. He lowered his pants just enough to take his erect cock out. Gi-hun briefly laid his eyes on it, but Young-il pushed their bodies back together, forcing their eyes to meet again. Gi-hun tried to touch his friendâs erection, to feel more of him, but Young-il stopped him, abruptly seizing his wrist and pinning it against the wall above their heads. âJust take it easy. Tonight, Iâm in charge.â
Gi-hun simply nodded, and Young-il started to kiss his friendâs lips and neck again, his left hand still pinning his friendâs wrist while the right one lowered Gi-hunâs pants to take his erection out, pressing their hardened cocks together. Both men moaned, and Young-il started stroking, making them lose their minds.
Nothing else mattered at the moment. Young-il enjoyed seeing Gi-hun so submissive, his eyes closed and cheeks flushed, lost in sensations. He could control everything, including his pain and pleasure, and it fueled Young-ilâs own arousal. He wanted to see him this way over and over. He wanted to fuck him against the door, utterly own him, and hear him scream his real name, but there wasnât enough time. He wanted to leave a mark deep within his flesh.
However, Young-ilâs heart skipped a beat when he saw Gi-hunâs half-lidded gaze, his eyes full of longing and affection meeting his own. Gi-hun, with his parted lips and disheveled hair, was panting and trembling with ecstasy, his skin glistening with sweat. Gi-hun laid a trembling hand on Young-ilâs cheek and warmly smiled at him.
âYouâre beautiful.â Young-il whispered before lovingly kissing his friend again.
Young-il knew Gi-hun was falling for him. When he infiltrated the games, it was with the intention of gaining his trust in order to permanently break him. But he didnât like how his heart raced when he saw those eyes. To avoid them, he dove his face into his friendâs neck and bit hard into the flesh, leaving a faint metallic taste on his tongue. His blood tasted so sweet. Gi-hun cried out and gripped Young-ilâs shoulders, digging his nails into his shirt.
The rhythm Young-il imposed on him was driving Gi-hun crazy, sometimes faster, sometimes slower. He occasionally ran his thumb along his slit to gather some precome and use it to slicken his strokes on their already sweaty cocks. Gi-hun felt the pressure build in his lower back; he couldnât take it anymore, lost in the sensations Young-il was giving him. Gi-hun realized his friend was also close to the edge as his movements became sloppier.
âY-young-ilâŚâ Gi-hun panted. âI-Iâm about to⌠ahâŚâ
âSubmit yourself to the pleasureâŚâ His friend breathed against his ear. Then Young-il nibbled Gi-hunâs earlobe, and it was too much for him. Gi-hun came with a cry muffled by Young-ilâs lips, staining their shirts and his friendâs hand with white streaks. Young-il followed suit, moaning against Gi-hunâs lips, and adding more to the mess.
Both men remained in this position, slowly catching their breath and recovering from their climax. Young-il released his grip on Gi-hunâs wrist and took a step backwards. Gi-hun trembled as he felt the chilly air on his scorching flesh, immediately missing his friendâs body warmth. Young-il took Gi-hunâs hand and led him out of the stall and to the sink to clean them as best he could, tuck their softened cocks back in their pants and fix their crumpled shirts.
As Young-il got his jacket back from the stall, Gi-hun splashed some water on his face. After he put it back on, he met Gi-hun near the sink and smiled at him. He cupped his friendâs cheeks and pressed their foreheads against each other. Gi-hun placed his hands above Young-ilâs, and both men felt the other calmer than before.
Young-ilâs gaze shifted to Gi-hunâs wrist, and he ran his thumb along the obvious red mark. Young-il had been a bit violent, but it was another sign that the man belonged to him. Next time, he would tie Gi-hun down with ropes. They would scratch his skin until it bled, leaving long-lasting marks. He could lick them clean to get another taste of Gi-hunâs sweet blood.
âDonât worry about it; Iâm not made of glass.â Gi-hunâs voice disrupted Young-ilâs train of thoughts. He may have misread Young-ilâs expression as concern, and he was trying to comfort him. How sweet of him, if only Gi-hun knew what Young-il wanted to do to himâŚ
Young-il just nodded. âAre you feeling a little better?â he asked.
âYes.â Gi-hun murmured, eyes still veiled by fading desire, but now replaced by tenderness and exhaustion. âStay with me tonight, Young-il.â
Young-ilâs heart skipped another beat. It became a recurring event when it came to Gi-hun. He had to ignore the fluttering wings unfolding inside his belly when he saw his friendâs eyes. Gi-hun was becoming attached; he was beginning to fall in love with him; it was perfect. However, Young-il shouldnât do the same. He intended to thoroughly ruin Gi-hun; he couldnât allow himself to feel this way.
It became increasingly difficult to tell the limit between obsession and love, and Young-il started to have doubts about his ultimate aim. However, he wanted to let go for once, enjoy a little peace and tenderness before the turmoil. The fall would be lethal for Gi-hun, but Young-il would suffer the same fate if he fell in love in return. But falling doesn't seem so horrible when youâre not doing it alone.
âAlright.â Young-il grinned and softly kissed Gi-hunâs lips. He took his hand again, and they went back to the dormitory, where they laid down on Gi-hunâs bed. The latter didnât wait and settled his head on Young-ilâs shoulder, sighing contently before quickly falling asleep. Young-il wrapped his arm around Gi-hunâs shoulders, listening to his steady breath and caught himself thinking that this could be a daily scene after the games.
It was a silly thought. Gi-hun would never join him in the games management, just as Young-il could never understand the humanity that still lived inside his friend. He couldnât see the good in anyone anymore; but Gi-hun was rekindling something inside Young-il: the idea that perhaps human beings werenât always turning into money-starved beasts when they had the opportunity.
But Gi-hun wanted to stop the games; an understanding was nearly impossible. Faced with this dilemma, Young-il fell asleep, feeling slightly disappointed: either they would team up with a common goal or they would kill each other.
