he always thought sex was something sacred, something you should wait for until you found your soulmate. for him, lovemaking represented the deepest link you could have with someone.
until you stormed into his life.
he told himself that you wouldn't be a big deal, just a little innocent crush that would go away after a few weeks. i'm sorry to spoil but it wasn't. the little heart flutter he felt everytime you were near slowly became a deep ache. one nestled deep inside his core. one who never faded away, only grew stronger and hungrier as time went by.
one glance at you and he could already hear himself scream internally. he wanted to get closer, wanted to touch, to kiss, to claim. everything about you drove him crazy: your looks, your smell, the sound of your voice, the fantom touch of your skin whenever you walked by. oh that little crush turned to obsession. pure little angel turned into a lustful man.
so when he finally got a taste of you? oh god he turned feral. his cock is pounding your tight little hole, going in and out of you with wet squelches. his lips are all over you, on your neck to suck at your sweet spot, on your chest to lick your hard nipples, on your legs to leave bitemarks and on your lips to claim your mouth.
your legs shake desperately, hooked on his shoulders. you are bent in half and so close to him. your head spin but you don't know if it's from the heat of the room or the fact that his dick is drilling your spot perfectly. you bite your bottom lip to muffle the slutty moans escaping your mouth, an action that didn't please him.
"don't fucking hold back."
he grunts, looking at you with feral eyes. his hand sneaks to your face, shoving his thick fingers inside your mouth to force it open. spit dribble down your chin, droplets sliding down your neck. before being catched by his wet tongue. a high-pitched keen leaves your throat when he shoots his load inside you, coating your gummy walls white. your toes curl as you finally feel yourself tip over the edge, spiraling into the throes of orgasm.
your mind deconnects for a second before your vision finally becomes clear. you see him above you, panting as he holds your gaze. the primal glint in his eyes is still there, even though it's been the 3rd time already that he made you cum.
"please... a break. can't take it anym- mph!" your plea is cut off brutally when he pulls out his cock out of you to shove it back inside harder, his dick already hard again.
"you think i'm letting you go now that i finally got you after all this time? fucking idiot. you are mine now."
a man who adjusts to your every need. who kisses you every morning. who never lets you go to sleep angry with him. a man who knows every inch of you, every scar, mole, bump.
a man who never raises his voice at you. who lets his body language talk when he's angry. whose skin bubbles with heat as he crosses his arms and tilts his head, listening to your rant before nodding. "you're right, sugar. im sorry."
a man who practically begs you to let him make it better, kissing from your toetips all the way up to where your night shorts stop, barely covering any of your brown skin. who takes them down with his teeth because even though he's sorry, he's still got his pride.
a man who doesn't let up on your pleasure. who stays nursing on your clit like he's a baby. who makes you cum three times before even thinking about fucking you, your thighs sticky with sweat as he settles between them.
a man who fucks you in heavy, slooooww strokes that drag every vein through your walls. whose groans are low and sensual, driving fire to your clit and ovaries as he sweats, his body hot against yours. he notices how your stomach twitches softly as he lays his hand over it, how your walls suddenly close tight enough for him to halt his movements.
"like it when i lay my hand here, honey? when i feel my cock inside you? you like that?" his voice is taunting. he knows you like it. he knows because your moans suddenly pick up in volume, and your feet next to either of his ears nearly fall from his shoulders. he doesn't let you run from him, though. he wraps one of his arms around your knees, keeping your feet hopelessly in the air as he thrusts into you with debaucherous vigor.
a man who overstimulates every nerve in your body at once, sending you floating off as you come. who holds you through it, watching as your eyes roll like you're possessed. he can't get enough of it, not until you're practically choking, stumbling over how good it feels, how you can't take it anymore. the screams of his name into the heavy air of your bedroom just egging him on to make you cum again. to push your limit. to watch your soul wander from your body for a moment.
a man whose job and life purpose is to please you, a man who's intimate.
Summary: Every Wednesday your schedule consisted of attending classes during the day, and satisfying the needs of a sadist through the night.
Warning: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Violence, Kidnapping, Isolation, SociallyAnxious!Reader, Blindfolds, Stalking, Knives, Blood, Gore, Stockholm Syndrome, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Insertion, Fingering, Rough Sex, Erotophonophilia, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Dacryphillia, Sadomasochism, Gunplay, Deepthroating, Breeding Kink, Unprotected sex
A/N: Hell is empty
4k Words
You're strapped in a chair, like always, and you are blindfolded because he doesn't trust easily.
It's terribly annoying.
At any point of during and after your little 'arrangement' you could have called the cops. Doesn't he understand that?
Every Wednesday, you're taken from the warmth of your apartment, and you're delivered right back at 00:00 on the dot, every Thursday with barely an inch of life left in your bones. You'd either always come back wet, with semen sliding between your thighs, or with mysterious marks- old and new- crawling underneath your sweater. Whatever mood he was in, he'd always leave you feeling sore.
It should have bothered you.
The thought of seeing this large, domineering shadow-in-a-suit every Wednesday should not overwhelm you with all these feelings of excitement. Instead, you should do like all the mentally ill girls do and just get some fucking help.
But you want him to trust you, for some reason.
Which was utterly ridiculous considering the fact that to him, you were something akin to a porcelain wind up toy for his amusement. You had no business requesting he remove the blindfold aspect but still, you asked anyway. Toy's couldn't be trusted, could they?
"I'd really appreciate it if I didn't have to wear one of these everytime I visit your place." He removes the blindfold, and in a second, your vision is filled with nothing but him. One moment you were in the cozy warmth of your dorm room. Curled up on the couch while your roommate spends her youth effectively- out with boyfriends and friends and everything you didn't have. You answered the front door when you heard his special knock, like you always do. You walked with him to the cab. You let him put on the blindfold. You said 'I'm fine’ when the taxi driver got a little too nosy and you let him lead you away from your boring life.
If only for a few hours.
You'd let him do whatever he wanted for those few hours because such surrender was almost sacred. You forfeited your safety in his hands, to do with it whatever he pleased and in that, you found rest. Whatever happens, happens.
Forget this room- what was essentially his personal dungeon, windowless, red and boasting various torture objects- your eyes are only on him.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't feel the need to kidnap me anymore? We do this every Wednesday," You become more childish around him and he lets you. Like you forgot you are a fully autonomous university student. There was power in that too. "Surely we've established some sort of trust?” He doesn't respond to you immediately. You crane your head up at him, hungry to lock eyes with his cold, empty slits that enchanted you body and soul.
You are in love with him, perhaps.
That's a logical response isn't it?
You laugh almost.
Listening to yourself try to rationalize your fondness for such a horrible man.
Said horrible man is silent. All you hear is the clicking of his dress shoes as he moves to the leather seat directly across from yours. Your eyes scan over all his movements.
The right corner of his lip quirks up. A small coffee table creates the only distance between you and he bends over to pour you both a generous glass of Brandy on the rocks. You don't drink it. Ever since he's been bringing you here, you never do. He knows this, yet still he pours.
"This relationship isn't about trust." He says finally. Something inside you, that is perhaps a little broken, actually purrs at the sound of his voice. You're hyperaware of your thighs squeezing together on the leather seat. They're spilling out of the sundress you purposely wore today.
Lots of your clothes were for the function of comfort. Your body was full and curvy and not always something to be advertised, unless you wished it to. Tonight, you wanted to show off as much as possible.
A thick leather band is keeping both your wrists locked to the armrests, while he sits back, free and so irrevocably in charge it should scare you. It should. But the sick and incredibly deranged thing is that it doesn't.
Outside, the rain is beating down on whatever building you're in, casting a thick veneer of grey all across the city.
But inside this velvet room... your heart is hammering inside its cage as you watch him undo the buttons of his crisp suit. A black one today. Jet black like his hair.
Although-
"You've got more grey in your hair than last week." You can't help but say.
He tilts his head in inquisition. "Are you insulting me or complimenting me?"
"I'll leave that up to you to decide," you shrug your shoulders as much as you can under these limited restraints. At least he hasn't restrained your ankles this time. Progress. "In here, you're the boss. Right?"
He takes a sip of his drink until finally, you've finally locked eyes. Your bare toes curl and your back arches slightly as you sit a bit straighter in your seat. Like you're in a lecture hall, although he is far more interesting than any of your professors.
"I'm not as young as I used to be," he finally says as he takes one more sip of his drink before bringing his briefcase onto the coffee table. Its presence is ominous and so horribly loud for an inanimate object. It kickstarts all your dormant nerves, revving up all the rest of your senses that have yet to catch up to the fact that you were facing the man of both your desires and nightmares once again.
"Who have you told about our arrangement?" The question causes you to roll your eyes. He watches the petulant movement with that same, silent smile and blank eyes. He unclicks the briefcase. Your stomach lurches and your thighs squeeze together. Pavlov's dog.
"Every time you ask me-" an object clinks onto the table. A butcher knife.
You try to pull your eyes away from the objects he's placing on the table, one by one. "Everytime you ask me if I've told anyone about our arrangement-" another object. A wooden spoon beside the knife. "Everytime I tell you the same thing."
Your throat closes when he uncovers a dildo. Bright pink and fucking menacing. "Carry on talking." He says, snapping your gaze away from the objects lining the table.
"I don't have any friends." Your voice is wobblier. You try to deny the sight of the rabbit vibrator, "It's the reason you picked me." You clear your throat as you hoped to clear all the nerves beginning to fog your mind. "Someone could've followed me here. B-But I don't really know anyone enough to care." The final object that clunks onto the glass coffee table and this time, you're unable to look away.
"Are we ready to begin?"
The metal revolver laying quiet and undisturbed beside the rabbit vibrator makes everything else on the table look like children's toys. Even the butcher knife.
You pull at the restraints, your legs quivering slightly as you shift and writhe in the seat. He studies you as closely as you were once studying him. You can see the excitement begin to flood his eyes at the physical manifestation of your discomfort.
"Now you're getting it." He nods sardonically, taking another sip from his glass before placing the briefcase on the floor beside him. "You were a little too happy to see me," he joked, letting out an airy exhale of laughter.
"You wanna hazard a guess as to what we'll be playing today?" He's smiling, genuinely. With that look in his eyes you can tell he's hovering in the clouds. Meanwhile you've begun to feel real fear. No matter how regular these visits might become you'd never get used to him. It's impossible. Not when he found new and daring ways to torture and pleasure you every single week. You couldn't get used to something as brash and unconventional as him. Like the conditions of a child in a broken home, he kept his tactics inconsistent so that every week is a new hell or perhaps- depending on his mood- heaven.
"If I guess wrong?" You swallow thickly and something dark in him settles. He spreads his legs more, there's a twitch inside his lips before he smiles again.
"Well, guessing isn't the game, so you'll be fine."
You nod your head... assessing the objects. There's menacing objects and household objects. Even just looking at them you can tell what they all have in common.
"Am I going to have to insert-"
"You're not guessing." His voice booms. He rests his elbow on the armrests, his hands corded with veins seem itching to do something, you're not sure what. "I said guess." He commands.
"Hide and seek?"
He snickers, "A favourite-"
"More like your favourite." You snip back, "I couldn't sit down the whole week." You frown at the memory. That week he'd brought you to an abandoned warehouse, letting you run the entire perimeter full.
"It's in your best interest to keep coming to our sessions-" he reminds you, snapping you back into the present.
"You're paying my university fees, I'm not complaining." You nod, before plastering a thin smile on your face, "All I have to do every week is prostitute myself to a literal sadist-"
"Have you given up on guessing today's game?" He didn't like you making him hyper aware of the fact that this dynamic, whatever it is, is considered objectively bad. And so you're not surprised when he swiftly moves past the topic.
He leans forward. His large hand disappears under his chair before uncovering a small whiteboard. Four lines- 2 horizontals are running across 2 verticals, creating 9 blocks. He stands up, while your eye is still focusing on the board. From your point of view it sits underneath the row of objects on the table. You don't even realize your right wrist strap is being untied.
"Colour?" He asks, pushing a crate of whiteboard markers towards you. With your now free hand you pick the pink one.
He snickers. "Predictable." He whispers before placing a large, domineering hand on your head. He presses down your braids, patting you like a stray he's rescued from the cold. You stare aimlessly ahead, fearing you won't be able to contain everything you've begun to feel for him if you lock eyes now.
"We're playing tic-tac-toe," he relents. His hand lingers on your head a bit longer before he's stepping away.
"With a twist, I presume?"
"Clever girl," he nods, walking back to his seat. "So you're aware of the objects."
"Place a gun in front of a girl and she's going to notice."
"Paranoid girl." He tsks before leaning forward.
"You want to start or should I?"
"Wait-" you swallow, "What happens if I win?"
He smiles that dazzling, debonair smile.
"You pick which one goes inside you."
Lightning cracks across the sky. A chorus of thunder roars all at once like some kind of phenomenon and your lips stutter open.
"Th-That's insane I-"
"I shouldn't have to remind you that you came here out of your own volition. "
"What happens if you win?"
"Then I choose." He says.
Your eyes skate over the object. It doesn't take an ivy league graduate to hazard a guess as to which of the objects he's itching to stick inside you.
"There's a fucking knife here-" You're trembling. Tears are pooling in your eyes. It doesn't even matter that you're a somewhat decent tic tac toe player. It doesn't matter that you're confident in this game. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.
"And there's also a spoon," he nods, neutrally, "And a vibrator, and a dildo. Etcetera. Etcetera." He leans forward, unclicking his whiteboard pen, "your words are just words, Darling. You're just listing things. Start," he says, with a deadly lilt in his voice. "Or I will."
You scramble to uncap your marker with one hand, all while he watches with dead and black eyes. You knew that whoever starts the game was placed at a big advantage and so you're nearly scrambling to place that dignified X in the center block.
"Clever girl." He says once again, drawing his blue 'O' directly beside your pink 'X'. You aim for the block above him. He blocks it. You aim for the block beside the center. He blocks that too.
Your victory comes too quickly. You barely feel it as you strike a line vertically through the blocks. 3 X's.
Relief washes over you but it's overcast with doubt. Like you're celebrating in trepidation as you watch him stand up.
"Congratulations! Which do you choose?"
"I can pick anything?" You ask, staring up at him, bright eyes wild with the adrenaline that comes with wanting to preserve your organs.
"Anything you want, my little winner."
You begin to lean over. His eyebrows quirk up when you wrap a small hand around his wrist.
"I pick that." You say breathlessly. Your eyes zeroed in on his hands at his side. And you watch as he walks towards you, as if compelled by an unforeseen force. His palms are calloused underneath yours and you blow out several unstable breaths as he stands above you. So imposing it's breathtaking.
"You sure?" It's the way he asks it that has you second guessing. And perhaps he sees the caution seeping into your eyes because there's excitement lurking in his. Before you're even able to formulate a response, his hand is locked tightly around your esophagus, vacuuming all pathways shut until you're writhing for air.
"A fine, fine choice," He's becoming more and more riled up the more you writhe in your seat, trying to scrounge for a single breath of air. He doesn't let you. Instead he moves behind you, before leaning down.
If you could breathe, you would shiver at the feeling of his lips behind your ear. "Here we go-" he whispers, before reaching around your torso with his free hand before forcing your legs open. The second he lets his three digits stab into your cunt, he uncurls the grip on your throat as you make a horrid sound somewhere between a moan, a scream, and a haggard gasp. "FUCK- Sl-Slowdown-" you knew better than to request something like that. All you hear is a snicker from behind you as pain blossoms all across your nether regions. He's not gentle. He's not kind. He doesn't allow you to adjust to his fingers before he's scissoring them inside you, causing a blood-curdling scream to rip itself out of your throat. Your back is arched and you're trying to get away from him but the fucking persists.
"You've been wet like this for me the entire time?" He sounds absolutely demented, behind you, "You wanted this didn't you?" He bites at your ear as the first tears begin to pool at your eyes, "My little winner."
"P-Please stop-" His fingers are restless inside you. Curling and uncurling. Scissoring and stabbing as if wanting to open you up and split you all the way in half.
"What a pretty little pussy, huh? Look at what a mess you're making."
"When-" you can't form words. "When- Stop?" It's all you're able to say as your nails dig into the material of his suit.
"The sooner you cum the sooner it stops."
You doubted your ability to cum under these circumstances. He's setting an ungodly pace and it's all so hurried and in a frenzy, it's like your brain does not have time to understand if you even like what's currently being done to you.
"What- Do you want you want my help?" you begin to shake your head. "I'll help you, baby-"
His other hand reaches over and pinches your clit.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm is quite literally forced out of you. Your hips writhe and your ass tries to leave the seat as the first feelings of pleasure rip through you by force. "That's it, Clever girl," he coos, still curling his fingers inside you, "That's my Clever girl." He says once more before stilling his movements. For a second you just sit there, trying to collect your breath while he's still inside you. All at once, his hands are removed from your body.
He grabs a handkerchief from his breast pocket and you watch him clinically wipe his hands before erasing the marks on the board with the same cloth. A very clear boner pushes against his black slacks yet still his face is calm.
"Alright, My turn to start-"
"WHAT!? B-But I won." You scream, absolutely seething with desperation.
"You know everyone who plays 'X' has a significantly higher chance at winning-" You say with your eyes narrowed. He nods.
"And you know that too, which means we each should be granted alternating times to play ‘X’. Regardless if you won or not." You slump in your seat, suddenly far too aware that your bare cunt is exposed.
"Don't mope." He says, "It's not cute." Before drawing his 'X' in the center.
You close your legs, sitting upright with a new zeal of self preservation as you grab ahold of your marker.
You draw your pink 'O' underneath his.
You both play many more rounds. All ending in ties. This is how you play- with a frazzled grip and closed legs. A shiver every now and then overcomes you with the gravity of your aftershocks. His snickers bring your eyes up to his. He speaks as he makes his move.
"You're so focused on blocking," he sighs, "You're not even trying to win anymore-"
"I'm not letting you stick a knife in my cunt." You nod in finality before blocking another move.
"Not even if I say please?" He asks, making a faux pout.
"Fuck off."
"In that case, I have to win."
Your heart kickstarts as he pushes his pen to the board. Images flash across your mind. Blood splattered across his gorgeous face. Your blood as he fucks the sharp end of a knife inside you. You nearly vomit while he speaks. “Easy as-" you block him.
"Tic-" you block him again.
"Tac-" you block him some more
"Toe- I Win."
A victory that somehow escaped your vision. He strikes a line diagonally through the squares and your stomach sinks. He stares at you from across the room. His eyes so deeply satisfied you can feel it radiating off of him in waves.
You lower your teeth to the other restraint, violently trying to free your left wrist from its oppressive hold. And you watch as the devil slowly rises.
Your heart aches. Your brain is sent into complete alarm as your flight or fight kicks in and your sympathetic nervous system fires.
"Now, which one would look pretty inside you?" He drags his fingers along the objects, undoubtedly an act of taunting. You stomp your feet on the ground. You try to push the chair underneath you but it's plastered to the floor.
"Please!" Tears are running thickly. They cloud your vision. You don't even see the way his smile falls enough for him to rub over the bulge in his slacks.
"Fuck," he says gravelly as he relents and picks up the gun. "You're so fucking pretty when you're scared out of your fucking mind. You know that?"
You shake your head as he nears, wondering if this might really be the end. Has your body become too worn out by his games? Has the time for him to discard his toy finally dawned on you both? Is he all grown up with no need for such things as toys?
"PLEASE-NO-"
"Open your mouth." He's standing in front of you, your head directly in front of his raging bulge.
You shake your head, trying to move away but he rips your face towards him. "Listening to me is the only choice you have to make it out alive, Baby. You wanna live, don't you?" He's nothing but a tall figure, with the overhead lights shining around his head like a halo. Your face right by his bulge.
"Little girl needs to go to school." He nods, eyes fluttering shut, "She needs to complete her studies and get a good job so she wouldn't have to meet with scary men like me- Fuck-" it riled him up to no end to have you scared of him. You suppose it triggered a part of him that craved attention. He needed to feel like he existed and if that was reeped from fear then so be it.
"Stick the barrel in your mouth," the bottom of his hand coaxed open your jaw, and, as if on autopilot, you listen. Perhaps there is a way out of this. Perhaps you should just listen.
"That's it... Fuck," he brings your free hand up to rub his erection "That's it, Baby, stick it inside your mouth." Cold metal hits your lower teeth, "Stick it in like you would a cock." He says, looking down at you intently as your tongue unfurls and you suck the barrel in. "Shit-" he places his other hand on the back of your head before forcing you to take the gun deeper down your throat. He's trembling. Far too badly. And so is his finger on the trigger.
"Fuck, you're such a fucking whore, you know that?"
You're gagging and flailing around the barrel, saliva slides down.
So desperate to please him.
In your hast you don't even realize your left hand that had been restrained is now free. Your eyes are closed.
Please him.
Just please him and you'll live.
"That's my brainless girl..." he praises and that rouses something in you. It has your hips bucking against nothing.
"Such a stupid girl..." he continues, "You're gonna ride me, aren't you? You're gonna fuck me so good-" You're not about to tell him that sex wasn't supposed to be apart of this game. You're not stupid.
You faintly hear the sound of a belt unlooping. A zipper siding down. "You're making me so happy, baby." He admits before effortlessly lifting you from the chair until you're straddling him.
You're free.
When did that happen?
"F-Fuck, I need you to ride me." His head is leaning back against the chair. His tie hangs messily from his shirt that has two buttons undone.
You're free.
"Don't try anything," he warns, as he lifts you enough to pull his cock out of his pants. "Matter of fact. Keep it in your mouth while you ride me-" He slams you down onto his cock the very second those words leave his mouth. He's fucking into you with recklessness and fury and violence. His hair falls in his face but the gun is too heavy, without a hand there, it nearly slips from your mouth.
He's careful to catch it, forcing the barrel back in your mouth as he places a hand on your ass, controlling how your ass bounces on his lap. The gun offers motivation like no other. It has you arching your back and swirling your hips as you tighten your cunt around him.
He sticks the gun down too far and you gag. "You trying to get me to cum, huh? You little slut-" you nod, the tears still spilling as pleasure begins to stream through your brain. It has you excited by the prospect of being held at gunpoint. You realize with grave certainty that you've arrived at the point of no return.
"What a good girl- fuck-" he's ramming up into you, his hand on the gun twitching like his cock does. "I'm gonna fucking cum- FUCK-" he does and your orgasm immediately barrels into you at the exact same time. You try to ride him, to milk it as much as you can, to continue to make him happy.
"Such a stupid fucking slut-" he whispers, eyes hooded as his hips still spurt cum into you.
Your ears perk. You see his finger on the trigger move. You squeeze your eyes shut as you hear a click.
"Such a silly girl." You hear him say. "Don't worry, Baby, it isn't loaded." You're still in your body. You're still alive, on his lap, your sundress unfurling around you both.
⊂•.✧ you find the cross necklace during the hide and seek game, right there on the floor. you knew nam-gyu had taken a hold of it ever since thanos got eliminated, but maybe it was for the best if he didn't have it, he was way too crazy and blood-thirsty when he was consuming those pills anyway.
without those pills, he was a mess! hands constantly rubbing on his blood-stained face, ruffling his own hair, and finishing his water bottle in a matter of seconds, he lived for those pills.
and when he sees you, during lunch time, eyeing a familiar piece of metal right on-top of your bed, he was speeding to get to you. you immediately notice him, and the best thing you could do was hide it in your pockets.
"fuck, i-i know you have it." you shake your head, feigning ignorance, "what?" you tilt your head to the side. "the- the pills! the fuckin' necklace, i know you have it! just give it to me!" he grabs your hands, though he was fairly weaker without the courage of ecstacy. you shake your head again. "we can share? c'mon just, please." he gets on his knees, knuckles clenched as he looks up at you with pleading eyes, you'd almost feel bad. "please, i'll do anything, anything!"
"well, can you do me a favor...?"
"what do girls like you even want in return?" you want to win. you want to live. you want to get out of these games alive. "y-you lookin' for uh- uhm, pleasure? yeah, can fuck you real good, just... just give it back in return." you were actually thinking about him being your guard to win the final game but— "really, is that the only thing you think girls want?" he manages to smile, "what else?"
"you look deprived. tired," he continues, ironic how he was the deprived one. "and i think you choose to be stubborn about giving it to me," he places both of his hands on either side of your legs. "cuz' you know i can force it outta’ ya..." you furrowed your brows, looking down at him, he was still in control. "i can make- make you feel good, just give it. you're so fucking difficult."
"m'having a fucking hard time." "we all are-" "yeah, but i'll die, might die without it, so please.. are you telling me you'd kill me?" you don't answer. "you're a heartless bitch, you're better than that, please?" he was so persistent in begging, like he'd forgotten how egotistical he was just a few hours ago, just because of withdrawal and sobriety.
what's the best next thing to drugs? sex. what were you supposed to do when he was so good at pleading his case?
you both manage to go inside the bathrooms, sharing a single bathroom stall. he's fucking you into the wall, hands gripping your waist, guiding you against his bucking hips. dick ramming in and outside of your dripping cunt. it wasn't hardcore or rough, it was sloppy and needy. the perfect amount of fast and pleasurable. he for sure needed to taste the drugs again, the feeling of your cunt is just an added bonus. "yesss... i bet- i bet you're feeling just as good as i do when i drug out." the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, for some reason it felt more pleasurable than painful than you'd originally imagine. maybe you were actually hungry for dick. nam-gyu was just the perfect guy for it.
he fucks you desperate, and it's honestly a win-win situation for him. he's glad you're the one who got it, since you're so easy, so easy to please and play with. "you're g'nna.. give it to me-" plap! plap! plap! "right after this-" plap! "yeah?" plap! "m'so good for you, and you're so good to me... fuck!"
he continues to fuck you, with no proper rhythm, just whatever feels right. mouth latched onto your neck, leaving not-so-subtle hickies all over, he's suddenly claimed you. "hope— they hear you, the guards- hope the other stupid fuckin' jerks hear you, moaning-" sometimes, he'd pull out his dick all the way, just to shove it all in again, just for that ecstatic feeling, he knows you like it, what else are you moaning for? "guess i know why stupid thanos would keep talking about a bitch like you- you feel good."
"and, after we win, yes, we're teammates now," he grins, looking down at you as he continues to mark your neck, the stinging pain being somewhat aided with his tongue licking the bites. "...don't forget it. since you're so sweet— wanna fuck you again, okay?" he gets the cross necklace from your pockets, fixing his pants and everything as he leaves you. poor you all messed up on the floors of the men's bathrooms.
in the end, he wins. he always does.
oh namgyu fans were fed this season . writer freedom is cray.
content warning: fem!viewer. these are explicit smut videos, watch at your own risk. you have been warned! if you don’t like this, don’t watch.
author’s note: i’ve been seeing so many twitter links posts for different fandoms so i decided to do one for squid game. make sure to be logged into twt/x beforehand, if some of the links stop working let me know. this was so much fun hehe. enjoy <3
want more? check out part 2❤️🔥
〇 salesman / recruiter tw: bdsm
he never makes love, he fucks, like he hates you
you better take it all
△ in-ho / frontman (001)
he gets so hard watching you play the games
relieving stress on his limousine
too big
□ thanos + nam-gyu (230 + 124)
they didn’t like your vote, they’ll change your mind
“see? you can’t vote x. staying here is way better”
〇 thanos (230)
he likes it rough
loves doggy
△ nam-gyu (124)
the way he talks is sooo namgyu, your throat around his cock + degradation? perfect combo
im telling you he has an obsession with your mouth
□ jun-ho / police officer
after a nightmare he had to make sure you were good
passionate and loving
taking care of you after a long day
〇 sang-woo (218)
you asked your hot professor for help, this is how it went :p
thinking about you
△ dae-ho (388)
he’s a MUNCH
matches your freak
□ min-su (125)
mommy kink going crazy
type of shit he deserves pt 1
pt 2
〇 myung-gi (333)
he’s an asshole
△ pink guards
being their favorite player <3
you literally have them wrapped around your little finger
Pairing: Hwang In-ho (player 001/the front man) x Fem!reader
Genre: headcanons, smut
Warning: dead dove do not eat, manipulation, dub/noncon, age gap, might be more but im too lazy to write it down
A/N: not proof read. thanos story in the works rn!! I have writers block so to help a little I'm making some hcs 4 this baddie (prob ooc)
hwang inho, the man that protected you from Thanos and his stupid friend during the first day of the games. he shoo'ed them away. stopping their harassment and took you with him with the rest of the group
hwang inho, the man that gives you his milk. reassuring you every time that its okay for you to have it, and it'll help you get stronger.
hwang inho, the man that checks up on you throughout the night. standing over you to make sure you're getting your nights rests. making sure no creeps try touching your delicate skin.
hwang inho, the man that lets touches linger a little longer than they should, whether its on your hands, thighs, waist..his touches feel more than platonic
hwang inho, the man that tells the guards to make sure you stay safe, to kill a player that hasn't broken the rules if they had to. anything to make sure you stay safe.
hwang inho, the man that would excuse himself to the bathroom just to touch himself to the thought of you. whether its your calm voice or plush hands that feel so soft and delicate...he just couldn't help it.
hwang inho, the man that squeezes your thighs when no ones looking...and when you express discomfort he used his past generosity as an excuse for it.
hwang inho, the man that will kiss you in the middle of the night with no warning. telling you to be quiet and take the kiss because if it were any other man it would've been worse.
hwang inho, the man that will find the perfect timing to sneak away from everyone else with you. he'll make you strip for him in the bathroom. savoring every inch of your body before he sends you away, leaving him in there alone to masturbate.
hwang inho, the man that wont let you sleep. he'll grope and squeeze your thighs, tits and ass. feeling you up while you hold in tears.
hwang inho, the man that reminds you this is your fault when you cry to him during a bathroom strip session. expressing how uncomfortable this makes you and how you don't want it anymore.
hwang inho, the man that will tell you nothing in the world is free. and your body will be the payment he receives for being so generous with you.
hwang inho, the man that gets hard thinking about your age gap. how youre only 19 and he's in his 40's..he loves it.
hwang inho, the man that slips his fingers inside of you when the lights are off, fingering you aggressively. reminding you once again that it'd be so much worse if he wasn't such a nice man.
hwang inho, the man that captures you during the raid against the guards. forcing you to stare into the eyes of your past friends as he kills them.
hwang inho, the man that keeps you as his pet after the games end. reminding you you're lucky because he spoils you with money.
hwang inho, the man that doesn't let you socialize with anyone after he's gotten his grip on you.
Another not: this one is pretty short compared to my last fic, this was to just try n get me out of writers block. expect a Thanos fic to pop up tmr. sorry if this sucked/was ooc, I tried my best T T~~
♡ Characters: Thanos / Player 230, Nam-gyu / Player 124, Kang Dae-ho / Player 388, Min su / Player 125, Jun ho
ᝰ Thanos / Player 230
Toxic!Thanos and reader
Holding you up
Trying to show you how sorry he is after he fucked up
Softer days with Thanos and Nam Gyu
Saw you and all your tattoos at one of his rap battles and knew he was gonna bring you home that night
First time threesome between Thanos, you and Se-mi
ᝰ Nam-gyu / Player 124
Sometimes he prefers his thrusts to be rough ‘n deep instead of fast
Anal for the first time and he was nice enough to be more gentle 💞
Literally so Nam Gyu coded, he loves to make you squirt, he doesn’t even care of you’re overstimulated. At some point he’ll just force you up and fuck you himself
it’s giving dark!Nam Gyu 🤭
Nam Gyu on the bottom and Thanos on top
Videos he takes of you everytime after he fucks you
ᝰ Kang Dae-ho / Player 388
Softdom!Dae-ho with a breeding kink who can’t help but fuck his cum back into you after he breeds you
Soft morning after sex since you two can’t keep your hands off eachother
Milking a cute subby big boy 😮💨
Literally so Dae-ho coded oml, the way he holds her back?? hello???
Finally agreed to let you peg him and let’s just say it felt better than he thought it would
Videos you send him when you miss him 💞
He loves to Make out with your tits
You’re always a pillow princess with him(or he is at times)
ᝰ Min-su / Player 125
Pathetic aff
He has such a sensitive tip 💞💞
Double the pleasure for such a good boy
Baby was just trying to cook some food </3
pegging him
ᝰ Jun-ho
What cuddling turns into on special nights
Overstimming you when you’ve been bratty by alternating between fucking and fingering you
You pissed him off when he was already in a bad mood
LOVES how your ass looks all oiled up
You’re the literal definition of pillow princess when you’re with him
➛ warnings. — oral sex (f!receiving) ⋆ dirty talk ⋆ MDNI 18+ ➛ jackie's note. — a bit rushed; my apologies ➛ ft. nam-gyu (124) ‧ thanos (230) ‧ dae-ho (388)
NAM-GYU eats you out like it’s a punishment. as though you did something to piss him off, and this is the (glorious) consequence—laid out beneath him, thighs hooked over his shoulders, his mouth pressed against your cunt. no teasing, nor does he give you any form of affection such as soft kisses, just his tongue swiping up your slit in one broad stroke before his lips latch onto your clit. sucks hard to make you gasp, hands scrambling against the sheets. he smirks, barely giving you a second before diving back in, his fingers spreading you open wider so he can work his tongue even deeper.
he’s messy with it, too. to the point of obscene, really. making sure you hear every wet, lewd sound as he devours you. when he pulls back for air, his mouth is slick, spit and arousal smeared all over his chin. “fuckin’ dripping,” he mutters, more to himself than you, “so easy.” his fingers dig into your thighs, keeping you from squirming away. “stay still,” he orders, and when you don’t immediately obey, he presses a hand down on your lower stomach, pinning you in place. “didn’t say i was done, did i?”
and then he’s back on you, lapping at your clit, the cold metal of his ring grazing your skin as he presses two fingers inside, stretching you out without warning. the contrast—the warmth of his tongue, the ice of his ring—makes you shudder, a broken whimper slipping past your lips. he groans at that, greedy. fuck, he loves the way you sound. “knew you’d like that,” he taunts, fucking his fingers into you faster, mouth working in tandem.
his free hand moves, sliding up your body, and then he’s pressing those same cold fingers against your lips, smearing your own slick over them. “open,” nam-gyu orders. when you hesitate, he grips your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. his pupils are blown, his expression somewhere between cruel and wonder. “be good. taste yourself.” you part your lips, and he pushes two fingers inside, pressing down on your tongue. “good girl,” he drawls, before lowering his head again, tongue curling over your clit in quick, ruthless flicks. your moan is muffled around his fingers, eyes rolling back as heat pools low in your belly.
he can feel it in the way your thighs tremble. he chuckles against you, low and mean. “gonna cum for me, baby?” he goads, curling his fingers for emphasis. “go on, then. make a mess.” and when you do, legs trembling, the moan breaking into a choked sob, nam-gyu doesn’t stop. just groans into you, drinking in every last drop, lips and chin wet with it. when he finally pulls away, he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, grinning wolfishly down at you. “fuck… look what you made me do,” he muses, glancing down at the dark spot on his jeans. then he leans in, presses a languid, filthy kiss to your mouth, making sure you taste yourself on his tongue. “hope you’re gonna clean that up.”
CHOI SU-BONG eats you out like it’s his favourite pastime (apart from partying and taking drugs… or both) he’s got you spread out on the thin mattress, legs draped over his shoulders, knees shaking, and he’s barely even started. presses an open-mouthed kiss against the inside of your thigh, then another, dragging his tongue along your skin just to hear that little sigh escape your lips. “what, you nervous?” he taunts, looking up at you with that smug little smirk. “c’mon, señorita, i don’t bite—” his teeth scrape ever so lightly at the soft flesh. “—unless you want me to.”
and then he’s in, burying his face between your thighs like a man starved, tongue flicking against your clit before dragging down, teasing at your entrance, humming like he’s savouring the taste. and fuck, that little hum alone sends a jolt through you. he’s talking between licks, of course he is, lips slick and breath warm against your skin. “mhmm so good, fuck— could eat you for days.” then he moans, a low, satisfied sound as his tongue plunges deeper, and the vibrations make your whole body jerk. he’s insufferable, but he’s so good at it. alternates between deep, slow strokes of his tongue and quick flicks over your clit, gauging your every reaction. “that’s it, baby,” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement. “feels good, huh?”
you nod, or try to, but he’s already got a hand braced against your stomach, pressing you down, keeping you from arching up too much. su-bong looks up at you again, pupils blown open, mouth shining. “say it,” he drawls, before sucking your clit between his lips, tongue laving over it like he’s savouring something decadent. your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging, and he groans against you, rutting his hips against the mattress. “fuck, you’re killing me,” he pants, but he’s grinning, breathless and wrecked. “gonna let me make you come, baby? bet you’ll look so pretty for me.”
he doesn’t stop talking, doesn’t stop licking, doesn’t stop anything until you’re shuddering beneath him, crying out as he works you through it, murmuring praises against your skin because he simply can’t help himself. and when you finally go limp, chest heaving, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning. “damn,” he exhales, crawling up to kiss you, slow and filthy, making you taste yourself on his tongue. “wanna go again?”
KANG DAE-HO eats you out like he’s got something to prove—not in an arrogant show-off way, but in that eager, wide-eyed, desperate-to-make-you-feel-good way. his big hands are warm, gripping your thighs as he presses tender, open-mouthed kisses up the inside of them, he’s savouring you, like he could do this all night and still not get enough. and when he finally buries his face between your legs, he lets out this quiet, needy moan, his breath stuttering against your skin.
eyes flicking up to meet yours. he’s got that lovesick look on his face, cheeks flushed, lips wet. “is this okay?” when you nod, breathless, he smiles—sweet and a little bashful—and then he’s back at it, tongue flicking over your clit in careful, deliberate strokes, humming softly. he can’t stop making little noises, soft groans and breathy whimpers, like he’s the one getting worked up from this. his grip on your thighs tightens every time you let out a sound, and fuck, when your fingers tangle in his hair and tug—just a little—he practically whines against you, grinding himself into the mattress, he simply can’t help it.
“so good,” voice muffled as he presses his tongue inside, slow and deep. “so fuckin’ good, baby…” he pulls back just to glance up at you again, lips glossy, panting a little. “you—hah—you taste…” he trails off, shaking his head like words aren’t enough. and then he’s right back at it, sucking your clit into his mouth, moaning low in his throat when you buck up against him. thick fingers slide into you next, careful, coaxing, curling just right, and the sound he makes when you tighten around him— “please, wanna feel it—wanna taste you so bad—” he pants, pressing kisses to your thigh between kitten licks, fingers never stopping. and when you do—when you arch off the bed, thighs shaking—dae-ho just groans, holding you through it, whispering sweet praises between kisses, licking you through every aftershock. when he finally pulls away, cheeks flushed, he just grins boyishly up at you. “holy shit,” his voice thick with awe. “can we do that again?”
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