Yo.

he was left there. lost. hurt. covered in blood. a complete mess.

And then you meet this doctor and he believes you and he seems to want to help—or maybe he doesn’t, you can’t really tell, you’re only 14 and he’s the only person who isn’t scared to touch you let alone stay in your presence for longer than a minute or two, and he knows you’re never going to be normal, you never stood a chance, and you know it too—and then things go to shit because you get scared of him and your mom sells you out to him and the monster takes advantage of your pain and fear to make you kill her and wow, look at that, the only person who understands is that fucking doctor again!

So you end up in his government lab and it just…metastasizes into this breeding program because the government wants more kids like you, and the only silver lining is the repressor chip the doctor built to keep the monster from taking over again. And it stays that way for 20 years until you try to help one of your children (siblings? The doctor uses the words interchangeably) escape, and she refuses to go without you, so you go “I’m sure it’ll be fine” and let her take the chip out.

And then you blink and suddenly everyone’s dead and you’re being pushed through a rip in space-time to a planet where you’re 99% sure no one will ever find you—not that anyone wants to find you, because you’re pretty sure that doctor was plenty satisfied having Eleven, so why would he look for you at all? And you’re also pretty sure you died on impact, but that’s not really important because THE FUCKING MONSTER LIVES THERE. AND YOU CANT RUN THIS TIME 😐 WHERE DO YOU RUN ON A FOREIGN PLANET INHABITED BY A SMOKE MONSTER.

So you accept your fate because what other option is there at this point, and you’re in the middle of almost being able to reach your home planet when all of a sudden you’re 1) being thrown through a window, 2) being forced to relive that thing in the cave that sparked all this, 3) being preached at by some coddled teenager who thinks he could somehow understand you, 4) being violently decapitated by your former classmate while you mentally beg her not to hurt you because it wasn’t you, it was never you, and she knows that because her kid fucking said it out loud, but she’s doing it anyway.

And that’s your life up to age 40—which is only half your expected life span—and 32 years of it were spent suffering unimaginable horrors with no one there to help you. No one ever came to save you except for that stupid fucking doctor! And they’re all going to blame you instead of the monster because it makes them feel like righteous heroes instead of misinformed children who killed the wrong fucking guy because that same righteousness prevented them from asking even a single question in regards to your situation.

Eight years old.You’re in a dark cave.You are a Boy Scout.Innocent.You hear a scream.You find a man with a briefcase covered in blood.You want to help him.You don’t want to hurt him.Hes confused.He shoots you in the hand.He points the gun at you again.Out of panic or adrenaline or fear you sprint at him and try to point the gun away.You beg him.He tries to point the gun at your head.You manage to get him to drop the gun.Out of panic again you hit him multiple times in the head with a rock.You cry.You feel guilty.Eight year old boy btw.You take his briefcase.You open it.Its a rock.You have a rock collection.You like rocks.This rock is weird.You pick up the rock.You hear whispers going “find me” You don’t understand.The weird rock goes inside ur bullet wound.You scream.The random man tells you to resist it.and that “it” will consume all.You don’t understand.You are eight.Out of nowhere you gouge the guys eyes out why just putting out your hand.You are scared.You are changed forever.You are flayed.You don’t know what that is.

Fast forward.1959.You are 12-14.A kid.You move to Hawkins after an incident in Nevada.

Highschool.

Your mother is..well.Abusive.Lets say.Your father is drunk.Your mothers thinks there’s something wrong with you.She loves you.Shes scared of you.You’re Henry creel.You’re normal.Are you?

You spend most of your time in the attic.With your radio.You have abilities.Abilities you don’t understand.First day of school.You get called a psycho.You meet a girl though.Patty newby.You talk about superhero’s or whatever.cool.You don’t eat.You don’t sleep.You accidentally kill a cat.You convinced yourself it’s not real.You find out it is.You are being slowly controlled.You just don’t know it.But you fight.You kill more animals.You don’t want to.But you do.Patty wants help finding her mother.Cool.Attic.You and Patty.Oh what’s that.You accidentally almost kill her dad?Jeez.But you fight it.So he doesn’t die.He tells Patty to save you or whatever.Anyway.Lets skip to dr.brenner.You’re in a lab.Dr.Brenner encourages you to kill and make a connection.Whatever that means.You kill a guy.Stuff happens.You go home eventually.

“Lock him up and throw away the key” -Your mother

Oh.

You let it in.You give up.You go to the play you were cast in.You go up to Patty.you tell her where her mother is.Dr.Brenner shows up.He tells you to kill her.Take her.She tells you to fight.

“I’m not normal Patty”

“What are you,Henry creel?”

Blah blah blah

The bridge breaks.She falls.You crawl to Brenner.Papa.Oh my god.

For the next 20 or so years you are locked in a lab.A lab that electrocutes you.An abusive papa.While an eldritch energy whispers in ur ear ur whole life.But there’s eleven.You want to help her get out.You love her(as per Jamie’s words don’t scream at me Henry haters) She wants to help you.She takes the thing that takes away ur power and tracks your out.Yay.Oh wait.You massacre the lab because of The Evil Thing.She banishes you to dimension x.Your whole life u are manipulated,controlled,groomed by this THING and it makes you believe thats who you are.Its all you have.You need it.This is all you.This is the truth.No,you’re not being controlled.(You are.) No,you chose this.

1987.One of them finds out the truth.You don’t believe the truth.You are forced to face your fears.The day this all started.He tries to tell you it wasn’t you.You are being controlled.You don’t believe it.You are being manipulated.Lied to.You don’t know that.This is all you.Your thoughts.Your actions.You.

You tell him that.He believes everything you say.

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THE LIFT is a supernatural handyman sim where you renovate a huge abandoned facility after accidentally being left in Cryosleep for hundreds of years!

Read More & Play The Open Beta (Steam)

Gameplay Video:

“we weren’t going to hurt you.” his glowing yellow eyes are sad, his markings bare for you and only you. it felt sacred. he felt sacred. his head his low, too embarrassed to even look at you. he was a monster.

he had come alone not to scare you. all the boys at once might’ve scared you away.

“you shouldn’t be here jinu.” your voice is soft, it caresses him in a way almost bringing him warmth as he shut his eyes. “i….i can’t leave you.” his fingers dug into his palms. “don’t make me leave.” his voice is desperate, pulling at you in the softest way possible. he’s crying.

crying out for you.

you stare at him from where you sat at the bottom of your bed.

“i scared you.” he keeps talking before you can respond “we scared you. but that’s not us!” he’s moving frantically, his hands shaky and waving around as he speaks. you’re tryibg to understand.

“what huntrix say about me it’s not true.” he steps forward and you flinch. it breaks him. it breaks you. “they don’t know me, not like you.” he promised, tears ran down his face. his almost new face to you but he was still all the same. he felt all the same but you knew you should be cautious.

you had been trained to be this cautious.

a demon.

you were never supposed to be yhis close to one. you had promised your mother all those years ago but here you were. they weren’t like she had described though, not jinu. not even the boys. they didn’t put fear in your heart like she said they would and they loved you, showed you more affection than another person had.

but they weren’t people.

not anymore.

“jinu.” you gulped, he can’t help but notice how you’re leaning as far away as possible from him. you’re afraid. he feels shame. deep shame for who he was.

but you weren’t afrajd of jinu, you were afraid of what he was. the fear that had been embedded into since you were a young girl and that couldn’t be erased with just one day.

with just one night.

“you know me…” his voice dies off on the end as he pleads with you silently, his eyes begging, yearning for you. craving your touch.

your approval.

your body calls for him, telling you to hold him. to comfort him but you don’t. every part of you was begging to love him but you can’t bring yourself to truly move and he mistakes it for disgust.

he feels disgusting.

“baby….” a plead. “you know me.” he promised tears running down his cheeks, he walked forward “you know us better than we know ourselves.” he can’t lose you. he’s telling himself how much he can’t, how broken he’ll be. how broken they’ll be.

“baby, please don’t let me go.” he dropped down to his knees in front of you, his head dropping onto your knees and his hand wrapped around your calf to keep you near.

he feels like your jinu, like nothing changed but who you thought he was but still hardly that. he was your jinu.

your pretty little jinu crying into your lap like a dog begging for forgiveness but there was nothing for you to forgive him for. you reach out, your hands going to slide into his hair but before you can touch him.

really touch him and let him know ‘i feel you’ “i believe she said to go.” jinu senses them before he hears them. huntrix. he looked up at you slowly, his eyes burning into yours before he’s gone as quickly as he was there.

Oneshot! (Request)

Pairing: Frontman (Young-il) x Fem!Reader (y/n)

Fandom: Squid Game (오징어 게임)

Summary: He says his name is Young-il. Says that he's just another player. But something is off. You don't believe him. He has answers. Too many answers. And when you start being suspicious of him, he kisses you just to make you forget about it. But you don't.

Warnings: Psychological tension. Calculated, non-romantic kiss. Power imbalance. Manipulation. Tell me if I'm missing any.

Author's Note: Another anon request. Thank you so much for the love you guys show on my fics. And I love the way you guys send different and unique fic requests.

Words Count: 773

Tag list: Want to get tagged in LBH fics? Lemme know in the comments.

@salesmancarddd @marymun @astronomicalastro-blog1 @filthygalli @thehellhaveubeenloca @yosoylaprincesa2004 @watasinekoru @nightlark100 @drewstarkeysrightarm @doodle-with-rhy @lunaryoongie @ilovehwanginho @yxluana @sammie217 @sammat97 @alex-17s-world @mObi4girls @maah-sama @grylian @hecticspice @manager016 @mxriesss @christmascoles @nosebeers @carolinevoight @princesscherryblossom15 @frozen-waffle @eviesmoon @startled-cats @retiredpieceofshits @ft-winnow

The night after the second game was the worst.

Eyes darted across the dorm, everyone half-asleep, half-ready to fight.

It was your turn on watch — paired up with the quiet, unreadable guy named Young-il.

He stood with his back to the wall, arms crossed, one boot pressed against the concrete, looking like he didn’t belong here at all.

Too calm.

Too clean.

Too... untouched by the games.

You watched him from your bunk last night — not a scratch. Not a drop of sweat. Not even a flicker of fear in his expression.

Something wasn’t right.

You glanced across the small section of the dorm your group had claimed — Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Dae-ho. Most were asleep or pretending to be.

It was just you and Young-il now, watching this small corner like you were on duty.

You stepped closer.

“Hey.”

He didn’t look at you, but you saw his jaw twitch.

“I’ve got this side,” you added, quietly.

“I’m making sure everything’s fine,” he said. His voice was smooth, clipped. Nothing personal.

You folded your arms.

“You were quiet during the Six-Legged Pentathlon.”

“I was focused.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t look like someone who just had a man’s elbow jammed into his ribs for minutes.”

“I’ve had worse.”

You paused. Let the silence breathe a little.

Then, quieter:

“What about Red Light, Green Light?”

That made him still.

“I didn’t see you,” you added.

“There were 456 players,” he said, cool and measured. “You don’t have time to memorize faces when bullets are flying.”

“True. But I’ve got a good memory,” you murmured. “And I don’t forget calm faces in rooms full of screams.”

He shifted slightly, finally meeting your gaze — dark eyes unreadable.

“I was near the back. Stayed still. Didn’t draw attention.”

“Huh,” you said. “I was at the back too.”

His jaw ticked.

You smiled faintly. “Didn’t see you.”

“I was hiding behind other players the whole time.”

“You didn’t look like someone who hide behind others.”

That hit something.

His fingers flexed once before curling into his sleeve.

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

“I’m not saying anything,” you said coolly. “I’m just wondering how a guy like you moves through this place like he’s already survived it.”

The air between you tensed — not violent, but tight. Like a rope pulled taut between your eyes.

“You think I’m cheating?” he asked finally.

“I think you’re lying.”

A long silence.

Then, softly — too softly — he said,

“You’re smart. That could be a problem.”

The words weren’t a threat. Not really.

But they weren’t casual either.

You smiled. “Maybe. Or maybe it means I’m the only one here who’ll see it coming when someone like you makes a move.”

His eyes narrowed, but there was something else there now — interest? Amusement?

Before he could respond, a crash echoed from the other side of the dorm. A fight had broken out.

People screamed. Two men were already throwing punches. Others scrambled up.

You bolted across the room.

By the time guards stormed in and the violence was broken up, Young-il was standing beside you — cool as ever, like nothing had happened. One of the guards glanced at him and nodded.

You saw that.

And you stored it.

---

Later, once the dorm had settled again and the distant shuffle of guards faded into silence, you sat back near your small corner of bunks — arms wrapped around your knees, still watching him from across the dim light.

Young-il hadn’t sat down once. Still leaning casually against the wall, still too calm. Like he belonged in a room full of sleeping bodies and broken trust.

You weren’t buying it.

Not for a second.

He noticed.

His gaze drifted toward you again, and this time — after a brief scan of the others — he started walking your way.

Your breath held.

He knelt beside your bunk without a word. Close. Too close.

You whispered, “If you’re trying to intimidate me, it’s not working.”

“No,” he murmured. “You’re too sharp for that.”

Then — so fast you didn’t flinch in time — his hand slid to your jaw, and he kissed you.

Soft, controlled, cold.

Not full of heat or passion.

Just enough pressure to catch your breath.

Just enough to make your thoughts blur for half a second.

When he pulled back, you stared at him — heart racing, lips parted, eyes narrowing again.

He smirked faintly.

“Now,” he said quietly, brushing his thumb along your chin “I’ve given you something better to think about.”

Then he stood and walked away — as silent as ever — leaving you stunned, lips tingling, and still very, very suspicious.