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SAME DAMN TIME || YANDERE! INHUN

Next To You || Free

" Y'all don't wanna play fair."

Summary: What if these two attractive men are showing interest in you? They share the same desire to possess you. Warnings: 18+, MDNI, NSFW, HEAVY SMUT, POLYAMORY RELATIONSHIP, AU, obsession, possessive, yandere behavior, jealousy, heavy tension, manipulation, character death, toxic relationship, betrayal, explicit content, matured language, violence, gun violence, killings, inexperience! Reader, sadistic behavior, ownership, consensual, deals, fluff, flirting, kissing, markings, older men x younger woman (LEGAL), praising, worshipping, dirty talk, oral (BOTH), threesome, bathroom sex, rough, deep, slow, PiV, unprotected, overstimulation, soft yandere! Gi-hun, Dom Yandere! In-ho/Young-il Yandere! InHun x Reader Words: 14.6k

The stale air inside the bunk room hangs heavy with heat, sweat, and tension. The clang of the iron doors echoes as two Circle-masked guards wheel in a steel cart.

They move down the line of waiting players, robotic and silent, distributing the same miserable rations—a single piece of dry bread and a warm carton of milk.

You stand quietly in line, arms crossed, stomach already twisting with disappointment.

“ What kind of pathetic meal is this?” Dae-ho grumbles behind you, holding up his bread like it personally insulted him.

“ Right?” Jun-bae mutters in agreement. “ They want us weak. Easier to break.”

You tune them out. You're too tired to care anymore—until a tap lands on your shoulder. You turn your head slowly, half-expecting another complaint. Instead, you’re met with a flash of purple.

Player 230.

His hair is bright against the dullness of the room. His eyes gleam with arrogance, and his mouth curls into a smirk that’s far too confident for someone living off bread and milk.

“ Hey…” He purrs, voice smooth like he’s practicing for a music video.

“ You got a name, or should I just call you mine?”

You blink, unimpressed. “ No.”

“ No?” He echoes, playfully wounded.

“ Damn. I didn’t even get to introduce myself yet.” He points to his chest with both thumbs.

“ Name’s Thanos. Rapper. Legend. You probably heard my track ‘Born to Break Chains’. Underground hit.”

He winks.

“ Didn’t think I’d find something so beautiful in a place like this. You’re like a rose in concrete.”

And then, with exaggerated flair, he raises his hand and forms a Korean finger heart.

“ I. Like. You.”

You raise an eyebrow and deadpan, “ I don’t.” Your voice is flat, dismissive.

Thanos chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “ Oof. Cold. I like that. I like girls who don’t like me back. Makes it more fun, y’know?”

Before you can snap back, you feel a shift in the air.

Across the room, two pairs of eyes are locked on the scene.

Young-il stands by the wall, arms crossed, jaw clenched so tightly his cheek twitches. His eyes are sharp, dangerous, tracking Thanos's every move like a predator sizing up competition. His posture is stiff, murderous.

A few bunks away, Gi-hun is seated on the edge of a bed, his knuckles bone-white as he crushes the milk carton in his grip. His usually gentle eyes are stormy, filled with silent fury. His lips are pressed into a thin line, but you can see it—pure, seething jealousy.

Neither of them moves. Not yet. But the air crackles with unspoken warning.

If looks could kill, Player 230 would’ve been long gone.

But Thanos, oblivious or maybe just cocky enough not to care, leans in a little closer.

“ I’m gonna make you like me eventually.” He says with a wink. “ Even the ice queen’s gotta melt sometime.”

You step forward in line, turning your back on him without a word. And behind you—rage brews like a storm ready to break.

...

The bunk room buzzes with restless energy—metal bunks, scraping trays, quiet murmurs, and the clatter of footsteps on cold concrete. But none of that reaches you clearly anymore. Not with him beside you.

Thanos. Player 230. Still glued to your side like a damn leech. You’ve shooed him off four times. He doesn’t care.

“ Come on…” He says, voice dipped in artificial charm.

“ All I’m asking is a shot. One chance. I could treat you like a queen, babe. You deserve that. Not this hell."

You scowl, sidestepping as he leans in.

“ No thanks.” You mutter, but it bounces right off his smug smile.

“ Let me be real with you.” He purrs, lowering his voice and leaning a little too close for comfort.

“ We can meet in the bathroom later. I’ll show you the real me.”

You stiffen immediately. He steps back just a bit, wiggling his eyebrows, clearly proud of his disgusting innuendo. You open your mouth to snap at him, but you don’t get the chance.

A throat clears behind you.

Low. Cold. Dangerous.

You turn—and relief crashes over you.

Young-il and Gi-hun.

They don’t say anything. They don’t have to. The tension rolling off them is palpable. Young-il’s jaw is already tight, and Gi-hun’s stare is like ice under fire.

Without a word, Young-il steps forward and grabs your wrist—not rough, but firm. Protective. He drags you behind him and plants himself between you and Thanos.

Thanos scoffs, clearly unbothered.

“ Yo, what’s your problem?” He sneers.

“ You her dad or something?”

Young-il doesn’t answer. Doesn’t blink. Just stares at him like he’s already dead. That makes Thanos grin wider, sensing an opening.

“ Ohhh…” Thanos hums mockingly, bowing with sarcasm.

“ My bad. Didn’t mean to flirt with your daughter. Real sorry about that.”

“ Shut up.” Young-il growls, voice low and sharp.

But Thanos keeps going, now walking up and towering over him.

“ What, gonna give me a lecture now? Save it for your daughter or your grandkids. I’m not some punk you can—”

SNAP.

Young-il’s hand flies to Thanos’ throat. The smack of the grab and the gasp of pain echo together. Thanos chokes, stumbling backward, hands flying up as Young-il’s grip tightens.

You flinch as Player 124—Thanos’ buddy—comes charging in to help, but it’s over before it starts.

Young-il steps out, plants a swift, brutal kick to 124’s leg. The guy collapses with a loud yelp, hitting the floor hard and curling around his knee.

Thanos is wheezing now. Desperate. “ O-Okay! Okay! I’m sorry! I’m done, man! I’m done!”

Young-il shoves him back, sending him staggering into a bunk post. His eyes blaze.

“ Stay the fuck away from her.” He says coldly.

Thanos nods rapidly, backing off with trembling hands. No more smirks. No more jokes. Just fear. He grabs 124 and helps him limp away without another word.

Once they’re gone, the air shifts again.

Gi-hun immediately turns to you, his voice soft but tense. “ Did he say anything to you? Something serious?”

Your heart is still racing. You remember the bathroom comment. The filth in his voice. But...if you tell them, things might spiral again. You glance at the bloodied nose of 124, the red mark on Thanos’ throat.

You shake your head. “ No. Just some dumb pickup lines.”

Gi-hun’s jaw clenches. He doesn’t fully believe you, but he nods anyway. He gently pulls you into a protective stance beside him.

Then Young-il turns to you, his sharp eyes suddenly soft as they meet yours. “ Did that bastard hurt you?”

You shake your head again.

A faint smile tugs at his lips—brief, almost unnoticeable. Then he turns and walks away without another word, his broad shoulders tense but slowly easing.

Gi-hun stays beside you a moment longer, his eyes scanning the room. And just like that, you know—no matter how dark this place gets, you’re not alone.

...

The bunk room has softened for a moment—laughter echoing off the cold walls like a rare song. You're sitting cross-legged on one of the lower bunks, surrounded by a few other players.

For once, you’re smiling, even laughing, as you chew on the stale bread, pretending—just for a second—that you’re not trapped in a nightmare.

Across the room, two sets of eyes are locked on you.

Watching. Smoldering.

Gi-hun sits at the edge of his bed, but his food remains untouched. His gaze isn’t just protective now—it’s possessive. He’s watching the way your lips curve when you laugh, the way you lean into the others comfortably. And then he sees it again.

Young-il.

The man is leaning back, arms folded across his chest, head tilted lazily, but his eyes never leave you. Not even once. That same intensity—since the second game. Since the moment he joined Gi-hun’s team during the Six-Legged Pentathlon.

Gi-hun’s jaw tightens. Something boils in his gut.

Enough.

He stands abruptly, strides across the room, and towers over Young-il without a warning.

“ What’s your fucking game?” Gi-hun growls, low but furious.

“ You’ve been eyeing her since the second game. You think I didn’t notice?”

Young-il doesn’t even flinch. A small chuckle escapes him as he looks up at Gi-hun, amused.

“ No game. Just want the same thing you want.” He replies smoothly.

Gi-hun grabs a fistful of Young-il’s collar, pulling him up with fire in his eyes. “ Stay the fuck away from her.”

Young-il’s smile fades. He grips Gi-hun’s collar in return, eyes flashing.

“ Who the fuck are you to order me around? I don’t follow rules. Especially not from another player trying to get in her head.”

With a violent shove, he breaks the grip and pushes Gi-hun back a step.

The air crackles between them. Then, without hesitation, Young-il says it outright—voice raw, honest, and filled with heat.

“ I want her. Just admit it, you do too.”

Gi-hun snaps. “ I don’t—! I’m just trying to protect her!” He lies.

Young-il throws his head back and laughs.

“ Bullshit.” He spits.

“ I see the way you look at her. You hide behind your fucking ‘protection’ like it makes you noble. But I see through it. I see that lust you try to bury under your nice guy act.”

Gi-hun’s fists clench at his sides. His whole body shakes with rage, the need to strike boiling in his veins. But he doesn’t. He can’t.

Not yet.

Young-il smirks, feeding off the storm in front of him. He steps closer, invading Gi-hun’s space. He places a hand on Gi-hun’s shoulder—mocking, calm.

“ You don’t want to share her. Neither do I.”

“ But if I had to…if I had to do it with someone who’s just as fucked in the head as I am?”

He leans in, eyes cold. “ I’d share her with you.”

Gi-hun’s eyes widen. “ You’re fucking sick.”

Young-il’s smirk deepens. “ So are you. You’re just better at lying about it.”

Silence lingers, thick and dangerous. Neither man backs down. From across the room, you laugh again at something another player says. And both of them…fall silent—haunted by the same thought.

That in this place of blood and games, you are the only thing still worth fighting for. Even if it means losing what little sanity they have left.

The tension between the two men still simmers like a ticking bomb. The noise of the room fades—the laughter, the clinking of trays, the distant announcements—all of it drowns beneath the low voice that now speaks with dangerous calm.

Young-il steps around Gi-hun like a wolf circling its prey, voice slow, sharp, calculated.

“ You think standing back and playing the good guy will be enough?”

“ You think just watching her smile from a distance is gonna make her yours?”

Gi-hun doesn’t answer. His fists are still clenched. Jaw tight.

Young-il stops beside him, voice dipping into something darker, something that drips with warning and truth.

“ You wait too long, someone else will move first.”

He nods his chin toward the far corner—toward the purple-haired bastard who’s still licking his wounded pride. Thanos sits at the edge of a bunk, watching you like a predator still waiting for an opening.

“ You want him to be the one who gets her?” Young-il asks, voice low and deliberate.

“ You want him to put his hands on her? Whisper his bullshit into her ear while she laughs at his dumb lines?"

Gi-hun’s eyes twitch—just slightly—but enough.

Young-il steps in closer. “ He’s watching her too. Just like us. And the next time he tries, maybe you won’t be there to stop it. Maybe I won’t be either. Maybe she’ll be alone.”

A pause.

Then he leans in.

“ Do you want that?” He hisses.

“ Do you want Thanos to snatch her away? You really gonna stand there and let that happen?”

Gi-hun’s breathing is heavy now. He turns his head slightly, watching you laugh again—so unaware of the hellstorm brewing in the shadows because of you.

He hates this.

He hates himself for even listening. But even more, he hates the image forming in his mind: you, cornered by Thanos again, no one there, his hands on you, that voice in your ear...

“ No.” Gi-hun mutters, almost growling.

Young-il smirks. The first crack.

“ That’s right.” He says softly. “ We don’t want that.”

A beat passes. The silence is suffocating.

“ So stop pretending you’re better than me, Gi-hun.”

“ We both want the same thing.”

“ And if we both move...no one else stands a chance.”

He steps back now, just enough to give space—but his words still echo between them.

“ Choose.”

Gi-hun doesn’t answer yet.

But his silence?

It’s not resistance.

It’s the beginning of something far more dangerous.

The heavy silence between them is suffocating, charged with heat and unspoken temptation. But Gi-hun stays where he stands, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths.

His eyes—burning but steady—refuse to drift back toward you now. Not while Young-il’s shadow lingers beside him.

Gi-hun shakes his head slowly, his voice low and cracked with frustration. “ I’m not like you.”

“ I’m not doing this to own her, or claim her as some prize. I care about her.”

“ This is about protection. It’s about...connection. Something real.” His voice tightens as he continues, raw and sincere.

“ I want to keep her safe, not cage her. And if that means standing at a distance...I’ll do it. Because I still respect her.”

Young-il lets out a deep, low chuckle—a sound laced with both amusement and disbelief. He shakes his head, not even looking back at Gi-hun at first.

“ Keep saying that.” He mutters.

“ Keep telling yourself you’re different. Keep pretending that what you feel for her is so pure, so noble.”

He finally turns his head slightly, casting a side glance at Gi-hun with an unreadable look.

“ But one day, Gi-hun...you’ll realize that it’s not just protection. Not just care.”

“ You’ll wake up and feel it burning through your veins. That ache. That fucking need.”

Young-il turns fully now, slowly backing away with calm confidence. “ And when that day comes...”

“ You’ll remember this moment.”

He gives a faint, mocking smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “ The offer’s still open."

“ Take your time.”

And with that, he turns his back and walks away—leaving Gi-hun alone in his storm of thoughts, torn between conviction and the growing shadow of his own desire.

...

The noise of the day has dulled. Players are settling down, curling into thin blankets or leaning against bunk frames with weary eyes. Tension still lingers in the corners of the room like smoke that won’t clear, but for a moment, there’s peace.

You return to your bunk, body sore, but soul strangely light from earlier laughter. You spot Gi-hun, sitting alone on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, fingers loosely laced together. His expression is far away—lost in a place you can’t quite reach.

You approach him softly, carefully, your voice gentle like a feather. “ Hey...you alright?”

Gi-hun blinks out of his thoughts, startled only slightly. His gaze lifts to meet yours. For a second, that distant cloud in his eyes fades.

You sit beside him quietly, keeping a respectful distance, then smile and start talking—just to ease the air.

“ I was talking to Dae-ho and Jun-bae earlier.” You chuckle.

“ God, those two are ridiculous. Jun-bae’s joke about the guard’s milk obsession? I nearly choked on my bread.”

Gi-hun smiles faintly, the corners of his mouth lifting.

“ It’s good...” He says softly.

“ That you’re getting along with them. I thought you were the type who kept to herself.”

You laugh under your breath and shrug. “ You’re not wrong. I don’t usually talk much...especially not to strangers.”

You glance at him and soften your voice.

“ But sometimes...you just feel it, y’know? That someone’s safe. That someone’s good. Like you. Like them.” Your words are gentle, honest.

“ This place is meant to strip everything from us. But we can’t let loneliness consume us...not until we forget what it means to be human.”

Gi-hun turns to you, truly turns. And this time, his smile reaches his eyes.

“ You’re not like the others.” He murmurs.

“ You’re...full of life. Like you don’t belong in a place like this. You’re the definition of sunshine.”

You snort and nudge his shoulder. “ Sunshine? You’ve been breathing too much stale air.”

He chuckles, softer this time. But it feels warmer—real. Then your eyes scan the room, wandering slightly. Gi-hun notices the shift. Instantly.

“ Where’s Young-il?” You ask, curiosity on your face.

“ He’s not with you for once. I thought you two were glued at the hip.”

You raise an eyebrow playfully. “ Honestly, I was starting to think there’s a forbidden BL drama going on behind my back.” You laugh, teasing.

Gi-hun laughs too—but it’s tighter now. A little strained. His smile doesn't reach his eyes anymore. Because at the mention of that name, the warmth inside him evaporates.

The memory flashes in his mind—Young-il’s offer. That sick idea of sharing you. That slow, smug whisper of a temptation that clawed at him earlier.

Gi-hun’s gut twists. His hand curls slightly at his knee.

He doesn’t want to share with you.

He can’t.

You’re not something to be passed around or bargained over like a piece of candy in this twisted game.

He wants you for himself.

Not just out of desire. Not just lust.

But because being near you makes him feel human again.

And yet...his heart pulses with a dark truth he hates to admit:

Part of him did listen to Young-il.

Part of him...understood.

Your voice brings him back.

“ Hey.” You say softly, noticing his change in expression.

“ You alright?”

Gi-hun looks at you. And smiles. A smile that hides a thousand storms. “ Yeah. Just...thinking.”

But deep inside, he already knows—

He’s fighting a war with himself.

And you're the flame at the center of it all.

The bunkroom is dim now—most of the lights already flickering into their nightly dullness. Soft murmurs echo here and there, the low hum of restless bodies trying to forget they’re still inside a death game.

You’re still sitting beside Gi-hun, your legs swinging gently off the edge of the bunk as you talk. He hasn’t moved, not once. Not while you're speaking. He just listens—every word sinking into him like light through cracked glass.

He doesn’t look at anyone else the way he looks at you.

“ You know…” You say, voice quieter now, a soft vulnerability creeping in.

“ I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

You chuckle awkwardly, like you’re trying to cover honesty with humor. “ Not even a textmate. Zero. Zilch. I mean, I’ve seen love in movies—those sweet moments, the way they look at each other like they’re each other’s whole world...it’s beautiful.”

Gi-hun turns his head slightly to you, his expression unreadable but tender.

“ But maybe it’s stupid.” You continue, shaking your head.

“ Maybe it’s all just…fantasy. Love like that probably doesn’t exist in real life.”

He wants to say you’re wrong.

He wants to tell you that love does exist like that—that you, sitting right here, prove it can. That he feels something burning in his chest every time you speak, every time you smile without even knowing the effect you have.

But he stays silent. Because if he speaks now, he’s not sure he’ll stop.

You let out a sigh and glance down at your hands.

“ Anyway…doesn’t matter now. We’re trapped in this hellhole. No one falls in love here. They just try to survive.” You pause, then snort.

“ Except Thanos. That guy’s high on whatever fantasy world he made up in his head.” You roll your eyes, irritation blooming back across your face.

“ He’s fucking creepy. Always around. Always saying weird shit like he’s starring in a twisted love song. And the way he looked at me…like I was something to own. It made my skin crawl.”

Gi-hun’s hands slowly tighten into fists in his lap.

You don’t notice—your voice keeps going, filled with the pent-up frustration you’ve been holding in.

“ I told him no. Over and over. And he just laughs like it’s part of the game. Like I’m just being coy and playing hard to get. I’ve never felt so...disgusted.”

Gi-hun’s voice is low when he finally speaks. “ He won’t bother you again.”

You look at him, surprised. His eyes are darker now—not angry at you, but because of what you’re feeling. You see it now—the quiet storm in him.

The protectiveness that’s been burning beneath the surface since the very beginning.

“ If he tries, I’ll make sure he regrets it.” He says softly, but firmly.

You smile, touched by his words. Something in your heart aches with quiet warmth. “ Thank you, Gi-hun. Really.”

He nods. But deep inside, he doesn’t just want to protect you.

He wants to be the one who makes you feel all the things you dream about—the connection, the trust, the kind of love that even movies can’t capture.

The kind of love that lasts.

And maybe, just maybe, he’s already falling.

Too deep to ever crawl back.

The air inside the bunkroom is still thick, but warmer now—laughter and quiet chatter making it feel a little less like a prison, and a little more like a moment of stolen peace.

You’re still sitting with Gi-hun, your voice soft, calm, recounting something funny Dae-ho said, when a familiar figure walks up.

Young-il.

He wears that smile—the one that’s just charming enough to fool anyone who doesn’t know better. But Gi-hun does. And the second he sees it, his chest tightens and his eyes narrow.

You turn with your usual warmth, your smile offered easily.

“ Hey, Young-il!” You greet, just like you did with Gi-hun.

Gi-hun watches—frowning—as Young-il takes the open space on your other side. Not just sitting…but leaning. Subtle, smooth, calculated. His knee nearly touches yours. His shoulder brushes too close.

Gi-hun's eyes flick to the side, and he catches it—Young-il smirking directly at him. A silent, smug message: She’s not just listening to you, Gi-hun.

Gi-hun clenches his fist, jaw tightening. But he won’t look weak. He shifts slightly. Not much—but just enough for his shoulder to press gently against yours. Protective. Possessive.

Now, you’re sandwiched between two men who barely tolerate each other—both obsessed, both spiraling—but you don’t even notice. You’re too caught up in your story, laughing softly, your voice still lighting the dull air.

But the two men?

They're waging war in silence.

Young-il leans in a bit, the smirk never leaving his face, and says casually. “ Didn’t know Gi-hun had friends. Must be new at that, huh?”

You snort, laughing, unaware of the venom hiding beneath the joke. “ That’s not true! Gi-hun’s easy to get along with.”

Gi-hun’s smile is tight, eyes fixed on Young-il. “ At least I don’t pretend to be nice before stabbing someone in the back.”

Young-il chuckles, gaze cool.

“ Only if they deserve it.” He winks. “ You’d be surprised how many people do.”

You blink, your smile faltering. “ Okay…what’s with the sudden spice between you two?”

You glance between them, sensing a shift in the air for the first time. Both men immediately straighten, wearing false innocence like a mask.

“ It’s nothing.” Gi-hun says quickly.

“ Just teasing.” Young-il adds smoothly.

“ That’s how brothers bond, right?”

You eye them both suspiciously, your brow furrowed.

“ Weird way of bonding.”

Gi-hun forces a smile for your sake, but inside, he's burning. He knows what Young-il is doing. The subtle digs.

The invasion of space.

The fucking challenge.

And worse?

You’re caught right in the middle.

But this isn’t over. Not for either of them. Not by a long shot.

The tension between the two men simmers just beneath the surface, but you—still blissfully unaware—continue chatting, trying to keep the mood light.

Until Young-il tilts his head, eyes twinkling with amusement and mischief.

“ Hey…” He says casually, watching you closely.

“ Just curious…would you ever be willing to get shared?”

You pause mid-sentence, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“ Shared?” You echo, clearly confused. “ What do you mean?”

Gi-hun freezes beside you, his breath catching in his throat. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move—he just watches carefully, as if your next words will decide the fate of everything.

Young-il grins, leaning back slightly to play off the weight of his words. His tone is teasing but controlled.

“ You know, like when two people…want the same thing.”

“ And instead of fighting over it, they decide to…share it. Like, for teamwork.”

You blink for a moment, processing it.

“ Oh! You mean like group work?” You say, eyes lighting up as you finally make sense of it—though not in the way he meant.

“ Of course! I’m all about teamwork. If I’m part of a group, I promise I’ll pull my weight. I’ll be a good team member if someone wants to share with me.”

You offer a bright, sincere smile, totally missing the implications behind the question.

Young-il turns away, pressing his lips together to stifle a laugh. His eyes water slightly from holding it in. Your pure answer hits harder than any flirtation ever could.

“ God…” He mutters under his breath, a half-smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“ You really are something else.”

Gi-hun, still stone-still beside you, glances away to hide the twitch at the corner of his mouth.

He's quiet, but deep inside?

Something stirs.

Something dark.

Something hungry.

Your innocent words. The way you agreed without even knowing what they were asking—satisfied him. Not because you understood. But because a part of him, the part he doesn’t speak about, wants to take advantage of that softness. That trust.

His body shifts slightly, knees brushing against yours. He pretends it’s nothing.

But there’s heat now.

Burning just under the skin.

He doesn’t speak. He doesn't have to.

Because now he knows:

If things continue this way…

He might not say no the next time Young-il makes that offer.

You continue chatting, unaware of the quiet electricity pulsing between the two men beside you. The air grows heavier, thicker, as you keep speaking with that same kind-hearted tone—completely oblivious to the storm you've stirred between them.

Young-il watches you with narrowed eyes, lips still twitching with amusement from your innocent answer. He rests an arm casually along the back edge of the bunk behind you, letting his fingers dangle just a few inches from your shoulder.

“ You really mean it, huh?” He says, voice softer now, almost testing.

“ Even if…the people you’re working with are a little messed up? Still willing to be on their team?”

You nod without hesitation. “ Of course. Everyone’s got their flaws. Doesn’t mean I’ll abandon them. I just want to help.”

That answer.

It hits both of them.

Gi-hun exhales slowly through his nose, trying to control the sudden, possessive warmth curling in his chest. He looks down at your hands as you talk, at the way your fingers move, the small gestures, the gentleness in your voice.

You don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t realize what you’re agreeing to.

But it awakens something in him again. That same fire. The one he’s been trying to smother ever since Young-il put that offer on the table.

He should be ashamed.

But he’s not.

Young-il, meanwhile, leans in just slightly, his voice a little lower now—teasing, but edged with sincerity.

“ You might want to be careful saying things like that.”

“ Someone might take your words the wrong way.”

You turn to him, brows pinched. “ Huh, what do you mean?”

Before he can respond, Gi-hun speaks, his voice calm but laced with something darker. “ He means people like him.”

Young-il grins and throws Gi-hun a slow glance.

“ I don’t deny it.” He shrugs. “ But I’m not the only one.”

Gi-hun meets his eyes. And this time, he doesn’t deny it either. The silence that follows is thick. Tense. It hums between them like an unspoken pact that neither of them wants to acknowledge, but both of them feel—deeply.

You finally notice it—the subtle shift in the air. The tension. The way their eyes no longer hold the same light as a few minutes ago.

“ Okay…what’s going on?” You ask slowly, looking between them. “ Did I say something wrong?”

Gi-hun forces a soft smile and shakes his head. “ No. You didn’t.”

Young-il mirrors the expression, though his smile lingers longer, more satisfied. “ Not at all.”

You nod uncertainty and start to rise to stretch. As you turn, neither of the men speak. But behind your back, their gazes lock again—this time not with hatred…but with something else.

An understanding.

They both want you.

And you're too good, too kind, too unaware of the world they’re dragging you into. But if you keep smiling like that—keep trusting them like this—

You might never see just how far they’re willing to go.

Or how deep you’ve already pulled them in.

The tension that had been crackling like static between the two men starts to dissolve—at least on the surface—when you suddenly lean back and grin, your eyes dancing with mischief.

“ You two are so weird sometimes.” You tease, arms crossed as you lean into your performance.

“ The way you stare at each other, fight, banter…I’m starting to think there’s something more going on.”

They both blink.

You smirk dramatically, raising a brow. “ I mean, it’s already 2024, you guys.”

“ Pride Month may be over, but I still see rainbows every time you two are in the same room.”

You clasp your hands together as if watching a romance bloom. “ Forbidden love…rivals to lovers…poetic!”

Young-il snorts, but his grin doesn’t hide his sharp stare. He leans a little closer to you, resting his elbow on his knee.

“ If I liked someone like Gi-hun, I’d probably request to be eliminated voluntarily.”

You burst out laughing. “ God! That’s cold!”

Gi-hun rolls his eyes, but the edge in them doesn’t disappear.

“ I’d rather throw myself out of concrete than fall for that bastard.”

Your laughter comes louder now, real and unfiltered, your shoulders shaking as you hold your stomach.

“ You two are too much.” You manage between breaths.

“ You’re better than the shows I watched before coming here.”

They smile with you.

They laugh with you.

But beneath the surface?

Nothing is funny. Because the truth is, neither of them is joking.

Young-il's smirk fades the moment you look away, his eyes following the curve of your neck, your mouth, your hands as you wipe away tears of laughter. Every movement feeds the hunger that’s clawing at his restraint.

He wants you.

Not tomorrow.

Not after the next game.

Now.

Gi-hun, though quieter, is no better. Your laugh—it does something to him. It ignites a heat in his chest that won’t go away. You’re so close and yet feel so untouchable…unless he takes a step he swore he wouldn’t.

Unless he breaks the line he’s drawn for himself.

And the worst part?

You have no idea.

You think they’re joking.

You think this is all playful teasing, a harmless rivalry.

But behind every joke is a truth neither of them can keep buried much longer.

Because of the obsession?

It’s real. And it’s growing.

If this keeps going—

If you keep trusting them—

If you keep smiling like that…

It won’t be long before the line they both swore not to cross—

Is completely erased.

…

The dormitory was quiet. Most players were already asleep or faking rest to conserve energy. You were sitting in the far corner, arms curled around your knees, watching shadows move across the ceiling.

Gi-hun sat on the edge of his cot, staring at you. You didn’t see him watching—but he couldn’t stop. Then, soft footsteps approached.

Young-il sat beside him like nothing ever happened.

“ You didn’t sleep.” He said casually.

Gi-hun didn’t respond.

Young-il leaned back, arms behind his head. “ You’re thinking about it. I can see it in your face.”

Gi-hun glared at him. “ You think this is a game?”

“ This whole fucking place is a game.” Young-il’s smile was bitter. “ I’m just trying to play smart.”

Gi-hun shook his head. “ And what? You think dragging her into your twisted logic is smart?”

Young-il turned his head toward Gi-hun, eyes cold but calm. “ I’m offering something real. You think she’ll survive out there alone? Or even with you protecting her? They’ll tear her apart.”

Gi-hun stayed quiet, jaw tight.

“ But are we together?” Young-il continued.

“ She’d be untouchable. No one here would dare hurt her if they knew she was ours.”

Gi-hun stared at the floor again. He hated how the logic made sense. He hated how Young-il knew exactly how to bend the truth into something seductive.

“ I’m not like you.” Gi-hun murmured.

“ You keep telling yourself that.” Young-il said.

“ But you’re already standing at the edge. All I’m doing is offering you a hand.”

Gi-hun didn’t take it.

But he didn’t walk away either.

And Young-il just smiled in the silence.

Because that was enough—for now.

The silence was unbearable. Gi-hun lay on his back, staring at the ceiling of the dormitory, unmoving, eyes wide open as the bodies around him slept in broken, shallow breaths. Every creak of a bed frame, every soft whisper of shifting blankets—none of it reached him.

Only one voice did.

Young-il.

The things he said.

The truth in them.

And the sick, undeniable part of Gi-hun that couldn’t argue anymore.

Because he tried.

He tried to stay above it.

To protect you the “right” way.

To pretend this desire could be smothered by guilt or duty or some imaginary line between wrong and worse.

But tonight shatters that illusion.

And something in him snapped.

Quietly, Gi-hun sat up. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on one man—awake already, waiting for him in the shadows like he knew this moment would come.

Young-il. Their eyes met. No words. Just knowing.

Gi-hun stood and walked to him in silence, his steps heavy, as if each one dragged chains behind it. He stopped in front of Young-il, who sat casually on the lower bunk, one leg resting over the other, arms crossed, a smug gleam already in his eyes.

Gi-hun didn’t sit. Didn’t speak right away. He just stared down at him. Until the words came—low, bitter, broken.

“ You win.”

Young-il tilted his head, a cruel smile curling on his lips. “ Took you long enough.”

Gi-hun didn’t smile. “ This isn’t about you.”

Young-il stood, closing the space between them, lowering his voice. “ No. It’s about her. And we both know—if you can’t have her alone…you’d rather have her with me than not at all.”

Gi-hun flinched slightly at how true it was.

Young-il leaned in, breath close, voice dark and sure. “ We’ll protect her. Keep her safe. Let her feel wanted…needed. She won’t even know what’s happening until it’s too late to fight it.”

Gi-hun looked away. “ If you hurt her—”

“ I won’t.” Young-il said immediately.

“ Because I want her too. Not like those other animals in this place. I want her.” He paused, eyes gleaming.

“ Like you do.”

Gi-hun’s fists clenched. “ She deserves better than this.”

Young-il’s tone softened—manipulative, coaxing. “ Then give it to her. Together. Make her ours. She’ll never be alone again. She won’t have to worry about the others, or this place. All she’ll have to think about…is us.”

Gi-hun was silent for a long moment. Then, finally…he nodded.

It wasn't a triumph on Young-il’s face.

It was something darker.

Something possessive.

Something final.

The pact was sealed.

And neither of them knew just how far they were willing to go to make you theirs.

…

The 30-minute lights out had just begun. You were crammed tightly under the bunk, knees to your chest, heart hammering as Gi-hun had warned.

“ No matter what happens, don’t come out. Don’t make a sound.” He had said, voice stern but laced with fear. Outside your makeshift hiding spot, hell had already broken loose.

Screams echoed—raw, panicked, violent. Bodies thudded onto cold concrete, metal bunk beds clattered, some toppling, others being used as weapons. You pressed your hand over your mouth, trying not to breathe too loudly, trying not to move.

Then you saw it.

A pair of bloodied shoes stopped right in front of you.

You held your breath. Maybe he’d keep walking.

But no.

A head ducked down.

A twisted smile curled up beneath dark, frenzied eyes.

" Boo!" He whispered before a hand grabbed your ankle and yanked you out.

You screamed, scrambling and flailing, trying to hold onto anything—but there was nothing.

Player 124.

He was covered in blood—some his, most not. He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, then raised something glinting. A fork.

“ Pretty little thing.” He sneered, waving the fork in front of your face like a toy. “ Scared now?”

He jabbed it playfully at your side. You flinched, sobbing. “ Please—don’t—please don’t kill me—”

" Beg louder!" He screamed. His face twisted into something feral. “ Beg like you mean it!”

You tried, tears falling. But it only amused him.

“ Fucking slut!” He spat.

“ Thanos wanted you. All he wanted was a piece of you, but nooo, you’d rather cozy up with the two old freaks who keep sniffing after you like dogs. You think they care about you? They’re going to ruin you. Fuck you so hard you forget your name. That’s all they want.”

He cackled. “ You think you're special? You're just meat.”

" I'm sorry." He whispered mockingly, voice dipped in false sweetness—then lunged.

The fork came down—fast.

But rage flared in your chest. With a scream, you slammed your fist into his face. He reeled, staggered, blood spurting from his nose. He groaned and lunged again, eyes unhinged.

“ YOU SHOULD DIE!” He roared, pressing the fork toward you again, arms shaking with fury.

You hit him again—nothing.

He was a fucking monster.

Until—

SMASH!

A bottle shattered across his head.

His body dropped instantly like a puppet with its strings cut. You gasped and saw her—a female player, wide-eyed, breathing heavily. She didn’t speak. She just ran.

You scrambled to your feet, trembling, staring at Player 124’s unconscious—maybe dead—body before bolting into the chaos.

Flickering lights made the room feel like a nightmare. Bodies everywhere. Screams. Blood. Madness.

“ Gi-hun?! Young-il?!” You called, voice cracking.

Then—grab!

A hand yanked you from behind and shoved you against the wall. You coughed from the force, head spinning.

Two figures. Familiar ones.

Gi-hun. His expression was dark, jaw clenched.

Young-il. Bloody knuckles. Eyes black with fury—but locked on you like you were the only thing that mattered.

“ Got you.” Gi-hun said, voice trembling—not from fear, but relief.

“ You’re ours now.” Young-il murmured.

Before you could answer, they dragged you into the bathroom, away from the chaos.

Far from the bloodshed. But not from what came next. Because in that moment, under the broken lights and the stench of blood, it was clear—this night wasn’t just about survival.

It was about possession.

Your back pressed against the cold bathroom tiles, chest rising and falling rapidly. Your clothes were stained with someone else’s blood, your face streaked with dried tears, your body trembling from the close call with death.

And yet…

It wasn’t over.

Not even close.

You frowned, confused, heart still racing. “ What…what do you mean ‘I’m yours’? What is this?” You asked, voice hoarse.

“ Is this—some kind of joke?”

You looked between them, hoping one of them—Gi-hun, usually the gentle one, would chuckle and say of course, it’s a joke, you're safe now. Or Young-il, cold and sharp-edged, would scoff and brush it off like he always did.

But neither laughed.

Neither blinked.

Their eyes burned into you. Two predators. Two men who had kept their obsession hidden—until now. The flickering light above cast harsh shadows on their faces. Gi-hun’s hands were still shaking, not from fear—but restraint. His gaze traced your face, your lips, your neckline.

“ I thought we’d have more time.” Gi-hun whispered.

“ To ease you into it. To show you. But after what just happened—after he almost took you from us…” His voice broke, eyes narrowing.

“ No more waiting.”

You took a step back, lips parting. “ You’re not making sense…”

Young-il stepped forward, voice low and tight. “ We’ve protected you. Watch you. Slept next to you. Killed for you. And you still don’t see it?” His tone twisted with something darker, something possessive.

“ You belong to us. No one else gets to touch you.”

“ I never asked for that—” You started, trying to keep your voice steady.

“ But you didn’t stop us either.” Gi-hun said, stepping closer.

“ You let us in. You let us close. Every time you smiled at me…every time you touched my hand…”

“ You were choosing.” Young-il added, dangerously close now. “ And now the game's over. No more pretending.”

Their eyes were devouring you.

Hungry.

Unapologetic.

Outside, chaos continued. Screams. Clashing metal. Someone begging for mercy.

But in here?

The real madness had just begun.

And this time, it wasn't about surviving the game.

It was about surviving them.

You stared at them—eyes wide, breath caught in your throat—as the reality of their words sank in.

“ I didn’t choose anyone.” You whispered, shaking your head slowly. “ I never—”

Gi-hun cupped your face with both hands, his touch surprisingly gentle. But there was fire beneath his skin, barely held in check.

“ You didn’t have to say it. We felt it. Every look. Every time you ran to us when you were scared. When you hid under that bunk tonight, it was because you trusted me.”

Young-il’s hand slammed against the tiled wall beside your head, making you flinch. His face was so close you could feel the heat of his breath.

“ You don’t even realize what you’ve done to us, do you?” He growled.

“ Do you know how hard it is to share you, to watch you sleep between us and not take what we both fucking want?”

“ You keep acting like this is something pure.” He continued, voice lowering into something husky and dangerous.

“ But it’s not. It’s twisted. And now it’s too late to run from it.”

You tried to move, to step away, but Gi-hun's grip didn’t loosen. He wasn’t hurting you—but he wasn’t letting go, either.

“ I almost lost you tonight.” He said, voice cracking.

“ When I saw him holding you like that…when I saw that fork…I wanted to kill every single person out there.”

“ And I still might.” Young-il said with a chilling smile.

Their eyes met over your shoulder—some unspoken understanding passing between them—and then both their gazes locked back onto you.

You felt cornered.

Not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually—owned, exactly like they said.

Gi-hun leaned in, forehead pressing against yours. “ We’ll keep you safe.” He whispered.

“ But in return…”

“ You’re ours.” Young-il finished, brushing his fingers across your cheek, leaving a smear of dried blood behind.

“ Every part of you.”

Then the door rattled violently—someone trying to get in. Another scream echoed outside. A brutal thud followed by silence. But the two men didn’t flinch. They didn’t even look away from you. It was as if the entire world had narrowed down to this small, bloodstained bathroom…and you.

There was no more pretending. No more games. Just the truth between you—and two men who were finally done holding back.

And you were trapped between them.

The air inside the bathroom grew heavier—hotter.

Gi-hun’s hands were still on your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks. Young-il stood just behind you, his presence burning into your back like a brand. You could feel both of them—too close, too much—and the silence stretched unbearably long.

Your lips parted.

“ I…” You breathed, voice trembling.

“ I think I’m just being silly. I mean…maybe I’ve lost my mind here. Maybe it's the fear or the adrenaline or—”

“ Spit it out.” Young-il muttered, voice husky.

You swallowed hard. Then, with your cheeks burning, eyes barely able to meet theirs, you whispered

“ I like both of you.”

Gi-hun inhaled sharply. Young-il stilled.

You stammered, voice cracking with shame. “ I didn’t plan to. I swear. I just—I didn’t think I’d fall this hard. For either of you. Let alone both.”

Silence.

Until you saw it in their eyes.

That look.

Dark. Ravenous. Possessive.

You hadn’t poured water on the fire—you poured gasoline.

Gi-hun’s lips curved into something feral, soft dominance simmering in his gaze. “ You…don’t even realize what you just did to us.”

Young-il’s hand slid from your cheek to your throat—not tight, not threatening, just claiming.

His voice was a low growl against your ear. “ You think admitting that makes this easier? You just made it worse.”

Your breath hitched as Gi-hun leaned forward, nose brushing yours. “ We were already barely holding back.”

Young-il’s hand at your neck tilted your head slightly toward him. “ Now we’re not going to.”

Your knees weakened.

Gi-hun kissed your cheek—soft at first, then lower, brushing your jawline with trembling restraint. “ You shouldn’t have said that…”

“ But we’re so fucking glad you did.” Young-il finished, dragging his fingers down your arm, slow and deliberate, until they laced with yours and pinned your hand gently to the cold tile behind you.

Gi-hun’s forehead pressed against yours again, but this time his lips hovered just above your own.

“ Tell us to stop.” He whispered, voice thick with hunger.

“ Or we’ll ruin you.”

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Not when the heat between the three of you had already reached the point of no return. And in the midst of chaos outside—bloodshed, madness, screams—inside this small bathroom, something else entirely was about to be claimed.

You.

Their hands were on you now—exploring, claiming, trembling with heat and hunger. The air was thick, every breath laced with tension and unspoken promises.

You were pressed against the cold tile, sandwiched between two men who were no longer hiding their obsession—only feeding it.

Gi-hun kissed down your neck, slow, reverent. His hands cupped your waist like you might shatter if he held you too tightly.

“ You’re so soft.” He murmured between kisses, voice breathy, almost a whimper.

“ So perfect. I’ve dreamed about this…every night. You have no idea what you do to me.”

You gasped as Young-il’s hand slid up your thigh, firmer, possessive. He chuckled darkly when he felt your legs tremble.

“ You're shaking.” He whispered against your ear, his voice rough and low.

“ Good. You should be.”

Gi-hun whined softly against your skin, his lips brushing your collarbone. “ You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to say it…that you want us too.” He kissed your jaw, eyes glassy with need.

“ You're mine. Our sweet little thing…”

Young-il tugged your head back gently by your hair, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. “ You have no idea what you’ve done to us” He said, his tone dark and commanding.

“ I’ve been holding back. Watching you sleep. Fighting every damn instinct to take you right then and there.”

Your voice shook as you finally whispered, “ W-Wait…”

Both men stilled.

“ I haven’t…I haven’t done this before.” You said, eyes wide, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“ This is my first time…”

Gi-hun blinked, expression softening instantly. “ Wait…really?”

Young-il’s smile curled slowly, eyes narrowing in a mixture of wicked delight and possessive pride. “ You’re untouched?” He echoed, fingers tightening on your hip.

“ No one’s ever touched you like this?”

You shook your head.

Gi-hun let out a soft, shaky moan, forehead pressing to your shoulder. “ Oh my god…baby…” He breathed, kissing you softer now, lips trembling.

“ We’ll take care of you. I promise. I won’t hurt you.”

But Young-il leaned closer, voice like silk laced with steel. “ You’re mine even more now.” He whispered, his lips brushing your ear.

“ We’re going to ruin you so well, you’ll never want anyone else.”

His fingers dragged along your spine, his tone darker, dominant. “ You’ll remember us with every breath, every sound you make, every time you close your eyes.”

Gi-hun kissed your lips at last—soft and slow—while his body trembled against yours, needy and gentle. “ You’re so good. So brave.” He whispered against your lips.

“ Let us show you how much we’ve been dying for this…”

And together—two sides of the same dangerous love—they began to claim you.

One with worship.

The other with fire.

You barely had time to breathe before the shift became overwhelming—touches turning into need, lips into hunger, and worship into possession.

Gi-hun’s hands caressed your body with trembling reverence, sliding under your shirt with careful fingers like he was unwrapping something sacred.

His mouth never stopped moving—lips kissing your collarbone, jaw, neck, whispering desperate praises with each breath.

“ So soft.” He murmured, voice thick with awe.

“ Every part of you…fits in my hands. God, I don’t want to stop. I’ll never stop.”

He pushed your shirt up, fingers trailing along your ribs, brushing beneath your chest. His mouth found your skin like he’d starved for it, leaving a warm, wet path as he kissed his way down, groaning when he heard your shaky breath hitch.

Behind you, Young-il was rougher—possessive.

One arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest. His other hand gripped your jaw, tilting your head back so he could kiss your neck with biting heat.

He wasn’t gentle. His teeth grazed you. His hand was already moving lower, slipping past the waistband of your pants with practiced confidence.

“ You feel that?” He growled low against your skin, his voice sending shivers straight to your core.

“ You’re already wet. Just from a few touches. You want this more than you’re even admitting to yourself.”

You gasped, your hips reacting instinctively as his fingers explored lower—confident, claiming.

Gi-hun whimpered softly, kneeling in front of you now, sliding your pants down your legs. His hands gently caressed your thighs as he looked up at you—eyes hazy, lips parted, his breath shaking.

“ Can I taste you?” He asked softly.

“ Please…just once. I’ve dreamed of this… begged in silence for it…”

You couldn’t find your voice—but your body answered for you. A desperate nod. A strangled breath. A tremble.

Young-il didn’t wait for permission. His hand gripped your throat lightly, tilting your head so he could watch your expression as Gi-hun leaned in.

“ You’re ours now.” He said darkly, rubbing his hardened length against your backside, still fully clothed—but clearly undone.

“ And tonight, you’re going to learn exactly what that means.”

Then Gi-hun’s mouth met you—soft, warm, reverent. His tongue was slow at first, careful. But the second he tasted you, a moan escaped his throat—needy, wrecked. He latched on, worshiping you with his tongue like your body was the only heaven he ever needed.

You cried out, hands gripping his shoulders. Your legs buckled, but Young-il held you firm, fingers teasing your chest now, biting your earlobe as he whispered.

“ Don’t look away. Watch him fall apart between your legs. Watch how much he needs you.”

Gi-hun was whimpering as he worked you open with his mouth—addicted to every sound you made. His fingers gripped your thighs like he couldn’t bear to let go.

Young-il was growling, breathing harder, his own arousal pressing into your back. “ When I’m done with you.”

He whispered, “ You’ll never want anyone else’s hands on you. Not even in your dreams.”

Your mind blurred—caught between Gi-hun’s tender worship and Young-il’s brutal promise of possession.

And all you could do was hold on as they devoured you.

Your body was still trembling from the aftershocks—nerves buzzing, chest rising and falling in uneven gasps. But Young-il didn’t give you time to recover. He gripped your thighs and spread them wider as he stepped between them, pressing you flush against the bathroom counter.

The cool surface beneath you only made the heat of your skin more unbearable. You barely had time to react before he leaned in, his nose brushing yours, voice rough and low.

“ You came so sweet for us.” He murmured, eyes locked onto yours. “ But now it’s my turn.”

You whimpered as he pressed against your core, still painfully clothed but rock-hard beneath the layers. He was taunting you—grinding, teasing, watching your expression twist in anticipation.

His hand slid up your chest, over your throat again, holding—not choking—just claiming.

“ You feel that?” He growled. “ I’ve been hard for days thinking about you. And now…I get to be your first.”

Gi-hun, still flushed and panting, stood beside you, caressing your shoulder, kissing along your neck. He whispered soft, shaky words—his own need barely contained.

“ He’ll be rough.” He said gently. “ But I’m right here. I’ll hold you. I’ll keep you grounded, sweetheart.”

You nodded shakily.

That was all Young-il needed.

His mouth crashed against yours, demanding and raw, and in the same motion, he unzipped and pushed himself against your entrance—teasing, sliding over your folds, soaking in how ready you already were.

His breath stuttered. “ Fuck…so tight…so warm…I could lose my mind.”

He was big—too big—and your body tensed. But Gi-hun was there, kissing your face, holding your hand, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“ You’re okay.” He whispered again and again. “ You’re doing so good for us. Just breathe, baby…”

Then Young-il started pushing in—slow, unrelenting.

You gasped, nails digging into Gi-hun’s arm. The stretch burned, overwhelming, your walls clenching instinctively. But Young-il held you firm, letting out a guttural groan as he sunk deeper, inch by inch.

“ That’s it…take it.” He gritted through his teeth. “ Take all of me. You're mine now.”

Once fully seated inside, he stilled—panting against your mouth, forehead resting to yours. “ So fucking perfect. I’m going to ruin you, sweetheart.”

Gi-hun kissed your temple, his voice barely audible. “ She’s already ours.”

Then Young-il moved. Slow, hard thrusts that sent your body rocking into Gi-hun’s waiting arms. The rhythm grew faster, rougher. He filled you so deeply that each stroke had you gasping—whimpering. Your mind blurred with every thrust.

Gi-hun kissed you again, cradling your head in his hands as you cried out, caught between pain and pleasure. “ That’s it…let it go. Let us have you.”

Young-il grunted with every push. “ You’ll never forget this.” He growled.

“ No one else will ever make you feel like this.”

You were gone.

Completely.

Surrendered to both of them—the one who held you gently, and the one who wrecked you with every thrust. And somewhere in the haze, you knew…

There was no way back.

Your cries echoed softly in the bathroom, swallowed by the hum of chaos beyond its door. But in here—there was only this: skin against skin, heat pressed tight, and two men who wanted nothing more than to mark you as theirs.

Young-il's hips snapped forward with controlled force, every thrust deeper than the last, stretching you around his length until your body was shaking again. Your breath came in stutters—half gasps, half moans—as your hands clutched onto Gi-hun’s shirt like a lifeline.

Young-il groaned into your ear, sweat beading at his brow. “ Listen to you.” He growled.

“ You’re so fucking tight…clenching around me like your body already knows who it belongs to.”

He slammed into you harder, forcing your body to jolt back—and Gi-hun caught you effortlessly, wrapping his arms around you, anchoring you.

“ You’re doing so good.” Gi-hun whispered, lips brushing your ear, his hands running gently down your back.

“ So beautiful like this. Let him fill you, baby…let him claim you like he needs to.”

Your moan caught in your throat as Young-il shifted the angle, hitting something deep—something electric. Your legs wrapped around his waist without thought, drawing him in, needing more.

“ You’re close again.” Young-il muttered, voice strained, his rhythm never slowing. “ I can feel it. Your body’s begging for it.”

Gi-hun leaned in front of you, hands cupping your flushed face, his forehead resting against yours.

“ Let go.” He whispered, voice barely holding together.

“ Let him break you this time. And then I’ll take my turn—slow. Sweet. The way you need it.”

Your eyes fluttered, your entire body tightening around Young-il as you moaned into Gi-hun’s mouth, lost in their voices—one soft and loving, the other raw and commanding.

Young-il slammed into you one final time with a deep, primal groan—his fingers digging into your hips as he spilled inside you, his body shaking, teeth gritted.

“ Mine.” He hissed. “ Fucking mine.”

You cried out again, your second climax crashing over you, more intense, more overwhelming—your body trembling, undone. But even as Young-il rested his forehead against your neck, catching his breath, you felt it:

Gi-hun’s fingers trailing down your thigh.

His lips are ghosting over your shoulder.

“ You think we’re done?” He whispered gently.

“ I’ve waited too long to have you like this.”

Young-il stepped back, eyes still dark, lips parted as he watched your shaking form—ruined, glistening, flushed and breathless.

Gi-hun scooped you up slowly, cradling you in his arms like you were something precious and fragile.

“ You’re safe with me.” He whispered against your ear, already lowering you gently to the floor. “ But I’m not letting you go.”

He kissed you deeply then—slow, passionate—starved.

And you knew…

Round two was just beginning.

Your body was still trembling—sensitive, raw, soaked in the aftermath of Young-il’s brutal claiming. Your mind swam in haze, but Gi-hun’s touch was already grounding you again. Different from Young-il’s fire, his touch was warmth. A soft blaze that burned slow and deep.

He laid you gently onto the bathroom floor, his hands ghosting over your sides, caressing every inch with quiet awe.

“ You did so well.” He whispered, brushing sweat-damp hair from your face. “ You took him like you were made for it.”

He kissed you again—soft, worshipful.

His lips moved over your cheeks, your chin, your throat, pausing at your collarbone as he whispered, “ Now I want to show you what it’s like when someone loves every single part of you.”

You whimpered, the contrast almost unbearable. Your body was overstimulated and still desperate, still open and aching.

Gi-hun was slow—achingly slow—as he removed what little clothing was left on both of you. He looked at you like he was unwrapping a miracle. His hands traced every curve, every mark, as though memorizing you with his fingertips.

“ First time…” He murmured again, kissing the inside of your thigh.

“ And you gave it to us. I’ll never forget this. Never.”

You gasped as he aligned himself against your entrance, where you were still so warm and wet from Young-il. Gi-hun groaned at the sensation, his hips trembling with restraint.

“ Still so tight.” He whimpered, barely sliding in. “ So perfect. I don’t deserve this…”

You reached for him, needing him closer. “ Please…” You whispered.

“ I need you.”

He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, as if he was afraid to hurt you—even after what you’d just taken. He kissed you through every breath, every stretch, every new sensation. Once he was fully inside, he stilled, forehead against yours. His breath was shaky, and his body trembled above you.

“ I can’t…I’m trying to go slow, but you feel too good.” He moaned, voice breaking. “ I might lose it too fast…”

You cupped his face, drawing him into another kiss, deeper this time. “ It’s okay.” You whispered.

“ You’re already giving me everything.”

He moved—slow and fluid, grinding deep, his hips rolling with practiced rhythm that sent waves of pleasure spreading through your already ruined core.

His moans were soft, breathless, desperate. Every time he bottomed out, he gasped your name like a prayer.

“ You’re so good to me.” He cried softly. “ So good. You’re everything. I’ll never let you go…”

His pace grew faster as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him in closer, deeper. His arms cradled your body as he rocked into you with growing need—his soft whimpers filling your ears, his praises spilling endlessly.

“ So warm so tight…fuck, I’m gonna—I can’t hold it—”

You tightened around him and that was it—he gasped, body seizing against yours as he buried himself deep, spilling inside you with a cry that sounded half wrecked, half in love. He collapsed gently on top of you, holding you like something precious, kissing your shoulder, your chest, your lips—everywhere.

Young-il watched from nearby, eyes still dark, but quieter now. His gaze on the two of you was unreadable—part possessive, part oddly soft.

Gi-hun pulled out slowly, carefully, brushing trembling fingers between your legs to feel the mess they both left inside you.

“ You’re really ours now.” He whispered.

Young-il walked over, crouched beside you, and tilted your chin toward him.

“ Ours.” He repeated.

You nodded faintly—mind dizzy, body claimed, heart torn between the two flames that consumed you. And outside the bathroom door, the chaos still roared.

But in here?

You had been owned.

Completely.

Irrevocably.

…

Your body was wrecked. Ruined by Young-il’s dominance, undone by Gi-hun’s reverence—and yet, neither man was satisfied. You thought it was over. That they had claimed you, filled you, used every part of you already.

But that was only the beginning.

You lay on the bathroom floor, legs parted, trembling, both of their releases leaking slowly from your swollen, sensitive core. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, every inch of you tingling and raw.

Gi-hun hovered above you, brushing kisses along your collarbone while murmuring soft praises. But then Young-il crouched beside him, his fingers trailing between your legs. The moment he brushed against your soaked folds, your hips jerked violently.

“ N-No—” You whimpered, body instinctively recoiling.

“ I…I can’t—too much—”

Gi-hun’s lips found your ear, and he whispered, “ You can. You’re so strong, baby. Just let us love you a little more…”

Young-il’s smile was dark, cruelly tender. “ You’re still clenching. Still wet. Your body’s begging for more, even when your mouth says no.”

His fingers pushed in slowly—two, without hesitation. The stretch made you cry out, hips bucking off the floor, thighs twitching.

“ Sensitive, aren’t you?” He rasped, curling his fingers just right. “ Good. I want to see how much more you can take.”

Gi-hun was already moving down your body again—pressing sweet kisses over your belly, your hips until his mouth hovered over your throbbing clit, swollen and twitching from too much.

You reached down, trying to push him back, your voice shaking. “ Please…it’s too much…I-I’m—”

But he didn’t stop.

He moaned as he licked your overstimulated bundle, slow but relentless. The second his tongue touched you, your legs jolted—back arching, a sob tearing from your throat.

Young-il’s fingers pumped deeper now, curling, stretching, pressing into the spot that made your vision blur. His other hand pinned your hip down firmly.

“ You’re already shaking.” He growled.

“ You’re going to fall apart again, aren’t you?”

Gi-hun was whimpering into you, like your taste was driving him insane. He flattened his tongue, lapping at you hungrily while moaning softly, as if each sound you made fed his desperation.

“ I can’t—” You choked, tears brimming in your eyes.

“ Yes, you can.” Gi-hun whispered sweetly, mouth hot and wet. “ Come for us again, baby…let go.”

You were spiraling—your body overstretched, nerves short-circuiting. The pressure coiled again, too fast, too much.

Young-il watched you come undone again, his voice sharp with pride. “ Look at you. Fucking falling apart from our mouths and fingers alone. So needy. So perfect.”

The orgasm hit violently—your vision whiting out, back arching completely off the floor, a strangled scream escaping your throat as your body seized in blinding overstimulation.

Gi-hun didn’t stop licking.

Young-il didn’t stop pumping.

They wanted everything.

You sobbed out their names, voice cracking, your body trembling uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure left you breathless and twitching. Finally, Gi-hun pulled back, panting, lips slick with your release, kissing the inside of your thighs like he just touched the divine. Young-il slowly withdrew his fingers, watching you shake with satisfaction.

“ Still think you’re done?” He murmured, smirking as he licked your release off his fingers.

You couldn’t even answer. Your voice was gone, your limbs limp, your mind spinning.

But they weren’t done.

You were theirs.

And they hadn’t finished ruining you yet.

Your body was still shuddering, twitching from the aftershocks of overstimulation. Your skin glistened with sweat, flushed and slick, and your breath came in short, broken gasps. But even in your dazed state, you could feel it—the shift.

The hunger in Young-il’s eyes darkened.

The gentleness from earlier? Gone.

Now, he was all control. All intent.

He stood over you, bare and hard again, his cock already twitching back to full strength. Your legs were still spread wide, still leaking from both of them, your body so sensitive that even the air made you tremble.

“ You thought that was enough?” He said, voice low and dangerous as he gripped himself, stroking slowly while his gaze drank in the sight of you wrecked on the floor.

“ No, sweetheart. I told you we weren’t done.”

Gi-hun tried to touch you again, to soothe you, but Young-il held a hand out.

“ No more softness.” He snapped. “ Not now. I’m going to fuck her until she can’t speak. Until her body knows it’s mine.”

You whimpered as he grabbed your thighs and pulled you down toward him, dragging your hips to the edge of the counter, then lifting one leg over his shoulder.

You could barely keep your eyes open, but when you saw the way he looked at you—like prey already caught—you knew he meant every word.

Without warning, he shoved into you—deep, fast, brutal.

You screamed, arching off the tile as your walls stretched around him again. The burn was sharp, your body still far too sensitive, but that didn’t stop him. He leaned over you, caging you with his arms as he began pounding into you with no mercy.

“ Fucking tight.” He groaned, jaw clenched, hips slamming into you hard enough to shake the sink.

“ Still soaking wet from us. You were made for this. Made to be bred.”

Gi-hun knelt beside you, breathless, stroking your hair, his own cock still heavy and hard again. He kissed your temple, voice soft in your ear even as your body was rocked by Young-il’s rough thrusts.

“ You’re doing so good, baby.” He whispered. “ Taking him so deep. You’re gonna be so full…”

“ Yeah..” Young-il growled. “ You’re gonna take every drop.”

His pace quickened, brutal and relentless. The sound of skin slapping echoed through the bathroom, drowned only by your gasps, your sobs, and the filthy praises spilling from both of them.

“ Gonna fill you up.” Young-il hissed, thrusting harder.

“ Gonna pump you so full, you’ll feel it for days. Your cunt won’t forget what we’ve done to it.”

You cried out again, the pressure unbearable. Each stroke hit deeper, harder, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your body didn’t know whether to run or fall apart again—so it did both.

Your walls clamped down, your body convulsed, and another orgasm tore through you—violent, wrenching, soaked in sensation. Young-il grunted, hips stuttering as your orgasm milked him. He threw his head back with a vicious groan.

“ Take it.” He snarled. “ Fucking take it.”

Then he buried himself to the hilt—deep, hard—his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside you. Rope after rope of thick, hot release filled your core, your body trembling beneath him, stretched and full and leaking everything they’d given you.

He stayed there, buried deep, panting against your neck, watching as his cum slowly dripped out of you around his cock.

Gi-hun pressed his forehead to yours, eyes shining.

And softly, with a hand to your belly, he whispered, “ You’re going to be so full of us. I want to see you round and swollen…carrying both of us.”

You were shaking, breathless, drenched. And yet your body was already reacting—clenching again. Because with them? There would be no stopping. You lay there—limp, wrecked, full.

Young-il still pressed deep inside you, breathing heavily, his release already beginning to spill from your stretched entrance. The mixture of both men’s seed dripped down your thighs, warm and thick, proof of everything they’d just taken from you. Claimed you with.

He pulled out slowly with a low groan, watching the mess he made leak from between your legs, his fingers immediately gathering it—pushing it back in with deliberate, rough strokes that made your hips jerk.

“ Don’t waste it.” He muttered, voice low and ragged.

“ You’re going to keep it. Every last drop.”

You whimpered, your body too sensitive, twitching with every small motion. You had already fallen apart again and again—but it didn’t matter. Not to them. Not to Gi-hun, who was already sliding in behind you, arms cradling your trembling body with reverent care.

“ Shh…” He whispered, pressing soft kisses down your back,

“ I’ve got you now. Let me make you feel good again. Let me fill you the way I’ve wanted to for so long…”

Your thighs parted again—automatically, helplessly—your body no longer resisting but offering. Broken open, completely pliant for them.

Gi-hun lined himself up, and you could feel him trembling—trying to be gentle, but failing. His tip nudged against your already stretched, leaking entrance, and he let out a shaky whimper.

“ You’re still so full.” He moaned, slowly pushing in. “ Still wet from him…from us…fuck.”

You cried out as he filled you—sliding past the mess inside you, stretching your sensitive walls once more. His pace started slow, agonizingly careful, but it only took a few thrusts before he lost control, overwhelmed by the feeling of your already-used body wrapped around him.

“ I can feel it.” He gasped into your shoulder. “ I can feel him still inside you.”

Gi-hun’s pace picked up, his thrusts becoming frantic—needy. His forehead pressed against the back of your neck, hips slamming into you with more force each time, driven mad by how overstimulated you were, how ruined your body had become for them.

“ You’re gonna take mine now too.” He whispered, breath ragged. “ I want to see you dripping with both of us. I want your belly full. Want you swollen with everything we give you.”

Behind him, Young-il watched, still catching his breath, but already getting hard again—his dark eyes trailing over your trembling form, slick thighs, the flushed arch of your back.

“ You’ll carry us.” He murmured. “ You’ll be marked from the inside out. Ours.”

Gi-hun’s thrusts became desperate, his soft moans now raw, pleading.

“ You feel too good.” He gasped.

“ You always did…every time you smiled at me, every time you touched me, I just— I needed this.”

You were beyond thought—body reduced to sensation. The friction, the stretch, the burn of being taken again and again.

And then he let go.

With a strangled cry, Gi-hun slammed in deep, burying himself fully as he came—hot, hard, endless. You could feel him spill into you, warm and thick, mixing with Young-il’s seed until you were overflowing.

You whimpered, twitching again as your walls clenched helplessly around him—another broken, overstimulated orgasm shaking your entire body.

Gi-hun kissed your shoulder, your spine, every part of you he could reach, whispering through breathless gasps.

“ I love you…I love you…I love you…”

When he finally pulled out, you collapsed forward, legs spread, shaking, completely used. And as the thick mess of both men’s release poured from your aching center onto the tile, they looked down at you—sweaty, spent, shaking.

Your body trembled on the floor—raw, used, leaking. Your thighs were soaked, your lips swollen, your mind fogged with heat and exhaustion. You didn’t even realize you were still moaning softly until Young-il crouched in front of you, tilting your chin up with two fingers.

His voice was low, firm—no hint of softness left in him.

“ Look at the mess you made.” He murmured, cock already hard again, glistening with his own release.

“ Clean it up.”

You blinked at him, mouth parting, breath catching.

He smirked darkly. “ We’ll show you how.”

Behind you, Gi-hun knelt, breath still shaky, but his eyes were soft, warm, flushed with leftover tenderness.

He brushed your hair back, voice gentle but firm “ You want to be good for us, don’t you, baby?”

You nodded, heart pounding. You had nothing left to give—yet you still found yourself moving. Kneeling slowly between them, your legs wobbling beneath you, your lips already parting again.

Young-il gripped the base of his cock, the tip flushed and glistening with lingering slick and seed.

“ Start with me.” He ordered, leaning back just slightly.

“ Lick it clean. Every drop.”

Gi-hun kissed your shoulder from behind, whispering sweetly in your ear. “ Just use your tongue, baby. Slow, just like this…”

He guided your head forward gently, letting you feel the weight of Young-il’s length rest against your tongue. Your mouth trembled as you began to lick—slow, kitten-soft licks from base to tip.

Young-il let out a low groan. “ That’s it. That’s good…fuck, look at you.”

“ Now swirl your tongue.” Gi-hun whispered, pressing his lips to your neck.

“ Right around the tip…just like that. Yes, baby. You’re doing perfect.”

You obeyed—lazily tracing your tongue around the head, collecting every trace of him, tasting yourself, tasting both of them. The more you licked, the more praise and growls you earned.

Young-il hissed, his voice sharper now. “ Open wider. Take it in your throat.”

Gi-hun’s hands stayed soft on your back, grounding you. “ Breathe through your nose. You’re okay. Let him feel how good your mouth is.”

You followed their guidance—bit by bit—taking Young-il deeper until he hit the back of your throat, until your eyes watered and your jaw ached.

“ Fuck…” Young-il groaned. “ You were made for this. Keep going.”

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless, lips swollen, saliva slick down your chin. Then Gi-hun turned you gently toward him, his cock twitching with need.

“ Your turn.” He whispered. “ Be gentle. I want to feel your mouth love me.”

You wrapped your lips around him, guided by their voices—one firm and commanding, the other sweet and encouraging. They taught you everything—how to suck, how to hold, how to let your tongue tease the underside.

Gi-hun moaned softly, his hands in your hair, eyes fluttering shut. “ Just like that. God, baby…you’re perfect.”

They switched you back and forth—Young-il thrusting into your mouth with deep, slow strokes while Gi-hun cupped your cheeks and whispered how beautiful you looked serving them.

“ You're learning so fast.” Gi-hun said.

“ And you’ll keep learning.” Young-il added darkly.

“ Because next time? You’ll clean us off while full of us.”

You moaned around them, throat raw, mind dizzy.

Because you knew…

You wanted that lesson too.

Your mouth was sore, your throat raw, your body still aching from the intense claiming they'd given you—but still, you obeyed.

You were on your knees, switching between them, guided by their hands, their voices—Young-il’s sharp and dominant, Gi-hun’s soft and coaxing. Their cocks, slick with your spit and their own release, throbbed against your tongue each time you took them in.

Young-il gripped your hair tightly, forcing you to look up at him as he pushed past your lips again.

“ Keep your eyes on me.” He ordered, his hips moving in slow, controlled thrusts into your mouth.

“ I want to see you own this. Learn it. Crave it.”

You moaned softly around him, tears slipping down your cheeks from the stretch. You were doing exactly as he said—watching him, letting him use your mouth, drool running down your chin as he hit the back of your throat again and again.

Gi-hun was beside you, stroking your back, murmuring praise like a prayer.

“ You’re so beautiful like this.” He whispered.

“ Serving us…letting us teach you how to please. There’s no one else I’d ever want like this.”

Young-il pulled back with a sharp, wet pop, letting your jaw rest for a moment. Your chest rose and fell in shallow, broken breaths. You didn’t even have to speak.

The look on your face—dazed, obedient, hungry—said everything. Gi-hun turned your chin toward him, gently wiping the spit from your lips with his thumb. His cock brushed your cheek as he whispered,

“ Now me, baby. Slow this time. Show me how much you want to take care of me.”

You nodded, eyes glassy, and leaned in. You kissed the tip of him first, soft and reverent, like he asked. Then your lips wrapped around him again—gentle, slow strokes, your tongue swirling with practiced effort.

Gi-hun groaned above you, his hand brushing through your hair, eyes fluttering shut as your mouth worked him perfectly.

“ Yes…just like that.” He murmured.

“ You’re learning so well. You’re so good for us…”

Young-il knelt behind you again, watching as you sucked off Gi-hun with soft slurps and hollowed cheeks. His hand slid between your thighs from behind, cupping your still-sensitive, soaked core. You gasped around Gi-hun, your whole body jolting at the overstimulation.

“ Even your pussy’s learning.” Young-il muttered, rubbing slowly, taunting circles over your clit.

“ Every time your mouth gets full, your cunt drips. Filthy little thing.”

Gi-hun moaned louder as your tongue flattened along the underside of his cock.

“ You like hearing that, don’t you?” He said, voice shaking.

“ Our perfect girl…messy and eager…”

Young-il leaned down, breath hot against your ear.

“ Next time, we’ll fuck your throat together. At the same time. We’ll train you until your mouth can take us both. Until choking on us turns you on.”

That image alone sent a shiver down your spine—and your hips pressed back against Young-il’s hand, needing pulsing in waves through your core again.

You pulled off Gi-hun slowly, your lips slick, your voice hoarse but breathy.

“ I want that.” You whispered. “ Teach me everything…”

They shared a look above you—one of hunger, pride, and ownership.

And you knew your training had only just begun.

Your body was trembling—not from fear, not from pain, but from sheer exhaustion. Used, stretched, and filled beyond anything you had ever known, your limbs barely responded as you lay sprawled across the cool bathroom floor, coated in sweat, tears, and their release.

And yet…you didn’t feel broken.

You felt owned. Seen. Craved. Loved in a way that had burned you down—and now, slowly, was putting you back together.

“ Hey, sweetheart…” Gi-hun’s soft voice broke through the haze as he gently lifted you into his arms, treating you like you were made of glass.

He sat you upright slowly, supporting your back, his hand brushing over your sticky, flushed cheek. His other arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady.

“ Can you stand?” He asked gently, eyes filled with warmth.

“ Come here. Let me help you.”

You nodded weakly, letting him guide you to your feet, though your legs buckled beneath the weight of everything your body had just been through. Young-il was already behind you, steadying your hips with a firm but careful grip.

“ Easy.” He muttered. “ Don’t rush. Just lean on us.”

Together, they walked you toward the sink like guardians guarding a goddess.

Gi-hun grabbed tissues, whispering,

“ I’ll be gentle, baby.” He crouched, slowly wiping the mess off your thighs, down your inner legs, then carefully between your folds, his hand trembling just a bit at the sight.

“ I’m so sorry.” He whispered suddenly, looking up at you.

“ If it was too much…if I—if we hurt you…”

You met his eyes, still glassy and dazed, and shook your head slowly.

“ You two didn’t hurt me.” You said, your voice quiet but steady.

“ Both of you gave me everything.”

He kissed your knee, eyes fluttering shut, breath shaking in his chest. Young-il, standing behind you, ran a tissue down your back, cleaning the sweat and kisses from your spine, and gently pressing a dry towel around your waist. He was quiet for a moment before his low voice followed:

“ I got rough.” He admitted.

“ Rougher than I should’ve. If I hurt you—if it ever becomes too much—you say the word.”

His hands were careful now, unlike earlier, his grip more thoughtful than demanding.

“ I want to own you…but never break you.” He murmured.

“ You’re not just something we use. You're…ours. And we protect what's ours.”

The air was still for a moment. Heavy with the contrast between the savage way they took you earlier and the way they now moved around you like loyal knights tending to a bruised queen.

Gi-hun brought you into his arms again and kissed your temple. “ You’re okay?” He whispered.

You nodded, resting against his chest, completely wrapped in their warmth. Your body might ache, but your heart felt strangely safe—held.

“ I’ve never felt wanted like that before.” You admitted softly. “ Like…you didn’t just want to touch me. You wanted me. All of me.”

Young-il came beside Gi-hun, brushing your damp hair back. “ That’s because we do.” He said simply.

“ And next time…”

His gaze darkened, but his voice remained calm.

“ We’ll listen to every breath, every sound. No lines will ever be crossed unless you draw them for us.”

Gi-hun nodded in agreement, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “ You’re not just someone we want in our bed. You’re someone we want everywhere else too.”

You felt it then—not just the ache between your thighs or the sting of your skin—

But the warmth of belonging.

And though your body was wrecked and weak, you smiled. Because even after being devoured, they were right there—ready to piece you back together with gentle hands, whispered apologies, and promises not of possession…

But of devotion.

Wrapped in towels, your body still tender and your heart spinning with everything that had just happened, you sat on the bathroom counter while Gi-hun gently ran his fingers through your damp hair, and Young-il leaned against the wall, arms crossed but gaze soft.

The chaotic noise from outside the bathroom had long since faded into background static. In this small, quiet space, it was just the three of you—and the weight of something unspoken lingered in the air.

You finally broke the silence.

“ What are we now?”

Gi-hun paused, fingers stilling in your hair. Young-il tilted his head.

“ I mean…” You continued, eyes flicking between them,

“ What’s our relationship? I thought…you could only be with one person. That’s how it usually works, right?”

Young-il pushed off the wall, stepping closer, his expression calm but serious.

“ That’s how most people do it, yeah. One person. Monogamy.” He crouched in front of you so you couldn’t look away.

“ But there’s something called polyamory. It means…loving more than one person—openly. Honestly. No secrets.”

You blinked slowly, trying to process it.

He continued, his voice steady.

“ We aren’t asking you to be in anything you don’t want, though. If the idea of being with both of us at the same time isn’t what you want…we’ll let you choose. No pressure. I’ll step back. Gi-hun will. Whoever you want—really want—that’s who you should have.”

Your heart squeezed painfully. Just the thought of having to choose between them made your chest ache.

You shook your head, voice trembling as you spoke “ No. I can’t choose. I don’t want to choose.”

Both men looked at you, their faces unreadable.

“ I’ve seen sides of myself with each of you.” You whispered.

“ You both give me something different, and I care about both of you. It would break me if I had to lose one of you just to keep the other. That wouldn’t be love. That would be guilt.”

Gi-hun stepped in front of you, resting a hand on your thigh, his voice soft. “ You’re saying…you want both of us? Together?”

You nodded. “ If you’re okay with it…I want to treat you both fairly. I don’t want to hurt either of you. I…I want this to work. The three of us.”

A pause. A heartbeat of tension—

Then Young-il let out a breath of a laugh and shook his head with a smirk.

“ Damn. I told you she’d say that.” He muttered to Gi-hun.

Gi-hun chuckled softly and turned to you, a warm smile tugging at his lips. “ We already talked about it. A while ago.”

Your brows furrowed. “ What do you mean?”

Young-il shrugged. “ Me and him—we made a deal. That if it ever came down to you being caught between us…we’d share you. As long as you gave us consent. No fighting. No jealousy. Just…trust.”

Gi-hun took your hand, kissing your knuckles gently. “ Your choice was all we were waiting for. And now we have it.”

You looked between them, stunned. “ You two really planned this?”

Young-il leaned in, eyes burning with mischief and something deeper. “ We didn’t plan to fall for you. That just happened.”

Gi-hun smiled, softer. “ But we agreed…we wouldn’t make you choose. We’d just love you. Together.”

Your heart swelled. A tear slipped down your cheek—not from fear, or confusion—but from relief.

Because somehow, in the middle of chaos, bloodshed, and danger…

You found two men who were ready to love you completely.

And for the first time in this deadly game…

You didn’t feel like a pawn.

You felt like the prize.

…

You were laughing softly, the sound fragile but real, as Gi-hun cradled your hand in his. The two of you sat close, tangled in warmth and shared relief, the remnants of chaos and desire slowly ebbing into something calm—something tender.

“ I swear, the way you looked at me earlier—like you were gonna cry and pounce at the same time.” Gi-hun teased, his smile soft and teasing.

You chuckled, nudging his shoulder. “ And you were whimpering more than I was.” You shot back playfully, cheeks flushed.

Neither of you noticed the faint click of the door.

The bathroom door cracked open just enough to let in a sliver of cold, sterile hallway light—and Young-il was there, standing tall in the frame.

His expression was unreadable. Blank. Cold.

The warmth in the room didn’t reach his eyes now.

He kept his body positioned precisely, blocking your view from whoever was standing on the other side. You didn’t even look up—too wrapped up in the small cocoon you and Gi-hun had built in the wreckage.

From behind Young-il, a low voice murmured something—muffled, but firm.

A Square guard.

“ The 30 minute lights out is over, sir. Area is secure. We’ve cleared the bodies. Survivors are staying to their beds. Orders?”

You would’ve frozen if you’d heard it. But you didn’t. Neither of you did. Because Young-il simply nodded once, calm and precise.

“ Proceed as normal…” He said flatly. “ Tell the others I’ll return soon.”

“ Yes, sir.”

The door shut again, soundlessly.

Young-il stood there for a moment longer, his hand still on the doorknob, back turned to you. The soft sound of your laughter still echoed behind him.

When he turned around, the mask he wore melted away—back to the same Young-il who had worshiped and wrecked you only moments ago. But there was something else lingering in his gaze now—something that wasn’t there before.

Power.

He looked at you—how your legs draped over Gi-hun’s lap, your flushed skin glowing under the soft flickering light, your lips swollen from kisses and moans—and something deep within his chest coiled.

He stepped back into the space, his voice smooth and calm. “ It’s safe now. We can leave whenever you’re ready.”

You smiled at him, unaware. “ Already? That was fast.”

He nodded, brushing his dark hair back, the faintest curve on his lips. “ I saw it. Guards carrying the dead bodies of the players and the lights are finally back..”

Gi-hun looked up at him, relaxed. “ Damn…”

You didn’t question it. Not then. Not yet.

Because in your eyes, Young-il was the fierce, possessive man who couldn’t get enough of you. The one who touched you like you were sacred. The one who stood side by side with Gi-hun to protect you.

What you didn’t know…

He wasn’t just a player.

He wasn’t just a lover.

And he wasn’t just another man broken by the game.

He was the one who built it.

The chaos, the violence, the rules—the very arena of suffering and desire that had pulled you into its web…

It was his design.

And you had just given your heart—and body—to the man behind the curtain.

Author's Note: Welcome to another episode of " What the fuck did I just write"? So, here's one of my experimental fanfics…the POLYAMORY relationship, because I read somewhere that someone wants a poly. Furthermore, it continues to be my coping strategy for the SG season 3 finale. Yes, it has been two weeks, but the pain is still present. The story is a little dark. Anyone who feels uncomfortable reading this is welcome to ignore this story. Please read the warnings before reading this story if you are under the age of 18. All of the events in this story are fictional. The red flags mentioned in this story are not something I would tolerate in real life. READ WITH RESPONSIBLY. Part 2?

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