#The Recruiter

[catchastarorten]

—Pause the game.

Pairing: the salesman/recruiter x wife!fem!reader

Summary: your husband had some ‘work’ to take care of with the two people that had been trailing after him all day, but when your call came in, and when he found out that you felt sick, you became much more important than whatever he had going on.

Warnings: mainly fluff, mentions of Woo-seok and Jeong-rae following snd spying on him, some parts of the Russian roulette game, he’s soft for you, he misses you, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 1.4k

The day had been long, even by his standards. A hundred lottery scratchers, a hundred loaves of bread, the park, the homeless. He had been up to a little ‘social experiment’. Even then, he caught onto the two men who had been trailing behind him since the subway station.

He wasn’t stupid. Someone was after him, and these two lackeys were clearly here to track him down. His best guess? Seong Gi-hun.

Woo-seok and Jeong-rae had been following him like shadows—clumsy ones, attempting to blend in with the surroundings every time he stopped, as if they expected him to turn around and strike at any moment. And eventually, he did.

He had let them tail him, then to his surprise, they made the first move down an alleyway to avoid losing him. By the time they realized they had made a mistake, it was too late. He had taken them down quickly, efficiently, the way he always handled these things. No emotions, no hesitation.

Jeong-rae had gone down first, crumpled to the ground. Woo-seok tried to fight back with the poor attempt of using a small knife, but a sharp blow of the suitcase to his head had knocked him out.

Now, they were sitting across from each other, bound to chairs, tied up with ropes, their mouths gagged, their muffled groans filling the dimly lit room. They couldn’t scream, couldn’t beg—just incoherent muffled noises as they squirmed like trapped animals.

He slowly circled the two men, then stopped to place a hand on each of their shoulders, eyes filled with amusement at their looks of terror.

“We're going to play a game now... Rock, Paper, Scissors, Minus One. I trust you know the rules.” his gaze flickered from Jeong-rae to Woo-seok, a smile forming on his lips.

“You form a shape with each hand, then take one away. The game is decided by the remaining hands. Of course, there’s a penalty for the loser.” he picked up the nearby revolver and inspected it, then pressed the barrel to his temple. “Russian Roulette.”

Their muffled protests grew louder, their bodies twisting against the ropes in a futile attempt to escape. The two men were shaking, their breaths heavy as he leaned closer, his finger on the trigger.

Click.

Empty.

His smirk widened as he backed away slowly.

“Alright. Now, let’s play. On my count.”

But then, as he was getting ready to spin the cylinder of the revolver, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

His brows furrowed, the interruption pulling him out of the carefully constructed moment. He pulled the phone out, and the sight of your name on the screen made him pause.

He froze for a moment, staring at the screen as his heart softened. It wasn’t like you to call him in the middle of the day. You knew he was busy—always busy. The ‘work’ he pretended to do required him to keep odd hours, to vanish without explanation, and you never questioned it. You trusted him. And he loved you for that trust, even if he didn’t deserve it.

His thumb hovering over the answer button before taking a deep breath and sliding his mask of indifference back into place. But when he answered, his voice betrayed him. It was warm, gentle—a tone he reserved only for you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft, the edge it had carried a moment ago completely gone. He shot the two men a warning look, his eyes narrowing as if daring them to make a sound.

Turning away from them, his tone dropped into something almost tender. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Your voice came through the line, quiet and tinged with vulnerability. “I… I didn’t mean to bother you. I just… I’m not feeling well.”

He could hear the catch in your throat, the faint rasp. “Are you sick?” he asked, straightening.

There was a pause on your end, then a soft sniffle that nearly broke his heart. “Yeah. Just a cold, I think. My head hurts, and I’m all stuffed up.”

He closed his eyes, letting out a slow, steadying breath as guilt twisted in his chest. You sounded miserable, and he hated that he wasn’t there to take care of you. Hated that he was here, in this cold room, when he should’ve been home with you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I know you’re busy. I just… I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said quickly, his voice gentle but firm. “You can call me anytime, okay? I mean it. Anytime.”

There was a pause, and then he heard another sniffle on the other end. It made his chest clench. “Where are you?” you asked. “Are you coming home soon?”

He glanced down at Woo-seok and Jeong-rae, their wide, panicked eyes watching him like trapped prey. The revolver gleamed on the table beside him, a stark reminder of the life he led when he wasn’t with you.

For the first time all day, he felt a pang of guilt—not for them, but for you. For the life he kept hidden from you. You had no idea what he did, the darkness he waded through every day. And he wanted to keep it that way. You were his light, his one connection to something pure and good in a world full of shadows.

“Soon,” he promised, his voice softening even further. “I’ll be home soon."

You didn’t reply right away, but he could picture you nodding, your lips pressed into that small, tired smile you always gave him when you were sick. He could see you in his mind—wrapped in a blanket, your hair messy, your cheeks flushed from the fever.

“There’s soup in the fridge,” he added gently. “I made it this morning. Heat some up, okay? And the heating pad’s in the bottom drawer. You’ll feel better if you use it.”

“Okay,” you murmured, your voice tired.

“I love you,” he said, the word coming out more vulnerable than he intended.

“I love you too,” you replied, and he could hear the faint smile in your voice despite the cold.

His chest tightened at the sound of those words. He glanced away from the two men on the floor, his jaw clenching as he fought the sudden wave of emotion that threatened to rise. “Now go rest, my love. I’ll be home soon.” his voice was thick with sincerity.

When the call ended, the room was silent. He stared down at the phone in his hand, his mind still on you.

For a moment, he let himself imagine walking through the door of your shared apartment, dropping his keys on the counter, and finding you curled up on the couch. He’d press a kiss to your forehead, make sure you were warm, and hold you until you fell asleep. That was all he wanted.

But instead, he was stuck here.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned his attention to Woo-seok and Jeong-rae. His expression hardened once more. “Well,” he said. “Where were we?”

He reached for the revolver, spinning the cylinder with a practiced flick of his wrist. The sound echoed through the room, sharp and final.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” he said, his tone almost mocking. “Loser gets to test their luck with this. Simple, right?”

He crouched down in front of them, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring their terror.

They shook their heads frantically, their breathing heavy, protests muffled by the gag. He sighed, standing up and running a hand through his hair. “You know,” he said, his voice almost casual. “I’d love to stay and play, but I’ve got someone waiting for me at home. So let’s not drag this out.”

Their muffled protests grew louder, but he didn’t care. This was his world. His game.

And when it was over, he’d go home to you. To the warmth of your love, the softness of your touch.

You didn’t know what he was. What he did. And he intended to keep it that way.

Because as long as you were safe, as long as you loved him, he could pretend—for just a little while—that he was someone worth loving.

[truefandemonium]

They’re the same picture

i am still in absolute disbelief that i managed to capture this moment

[yourlocalangeldoll]

*ੈ i had this this fucked thought about the recruiter/salesman and it wouldn’t leave my mind.. so here i am writing it

cw: fucking in a pool of bed near a murdered dead body lmfao, impregnating/babytrapping threats,

You’d be lying if you said that the ‘creepy’ saleman who’s been following you around wasn’t cute. He was, truly, however you weren’t one to hook up with random men, especially not when they were so adamant at getting you to play a silly game of ddakji. But something about his sly grin, subtle flirting and the way he seemed to always know where you always were managed to get your panties into a wet mess, even if it was big, bold, red flags.

But, again, you’d never go for some random guy you see and speak to a couple times. Especially not when there was a perfectly hot guy in your class who was interested in you.

What you didn’t know however, was that it wasn’t mere coincidences that the salesman managed to always find where you were, so he of course knew and watched your date with your fellow classmate. What you also didn’t know was that you already belonged to that same salesman.

Hence, your current position. Laying in a pool of blood while you stared at your dead, stabbed to death, failed date while one hand held up your hips. Cock ramming into you and against your cervix at an almost painful pace and consistency. The salesman free hand messily gripping a fistful of your hair as his hips continuously met with your ass that bounced with each thrust.

Your cheek was soaked in the puddle of blood and you could even taste the bit of blood that managed to make it’s way into your agape mouth, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Not when an absolutely beautiful man was fucking into you from behind.

“look so fucking pretty covered in blood, princess.” He teased tauntingly, sadistic smile on his face. His bloody hand that fisted your hair getting the soft strands sticky with blood. Moans begrudgingly spilled out of your lips as you lazily attempted to move away from him, mostly to be able to keep some of your own ego and for the added thrill.

Moans spilled from your lips as you curled your fingers into your palms, blood piling up between the cracks and crevices of your fingers and skin. He was fucking you so good it had you seeing stars, for such a fucking psychopath he sure knew how to fuck a girl.

“Don’t be shy, tell me how much you like it.” He taunted, tugging at your hair rougher and up before letting go and letting your head fall to the floor, blood jumping up as your head landed with a thump. The slight pang in your head was the least of your concerns as you let out a strangled moan at the harsh slap he places to your cheek. “Say it.” He demands in a firmer tone, his hand finding the back of your neck tightly.

“Yes! i love it i love it,” You rambled, toes curling and you groaning as his pace picked up and he pulled your hips both higher and closer to him.

“Knew you were a slut, getting so wet from some man you know nothing about fucking you in front of the dead body of your own date that the same man you know nothing about killed.” He continued to degrade, smirk gracing his features. So focused on your own pleasure that you weren’t even focusing on his words, just rambling continuous agreements. “Too bad you didn’t go to the games, you would’ve loved it.”

“But i prefer it this way, now you fucking belong to me. I’ll make you so dumb that you can’t even think of leaving. Yeah? Like that? Might even get you pregnant too.”

[darinawrites]

౨ৎ— A sweet treat —౨ৎ

Pairing: Salesman x implied f!reader

Summary: losing everything you have, having countless hungry nights, a mysterious man is suddenly there to satiate the rumbling of your belly everyday with a little game. His gaze dwelling on yours far too long every time

Content: fluff (there is only smut of my poor man, I had to give the fluff lovers something), idiots in love, mentions of being kicked out, homeless reader, implied stalking

A/n: like said before, this man ONLY gets smut, had to give him something. I again tried to shorten the fic since I know people rather like a shorter fic (from my knowledge). Just know I was giggling and kicking my feet at 2 am writing this

Word count: 2k

---------------------------------------------ᣟ݂ ✩͏⚹︎-----

Your body was stiff against the soft grass you laid on, groaning as sunlight hit your eyes the moment your eyelids opened. A thin blanket, suppose to serve you warmth did anything but that. Laying pathetically on your body, coldness seeping trough it.

Groggily opening your eyes, accepting the sunlight as you tried to get used to it. Stirring as you gently sat up, the cloth slipping down your body. Body sore from the uneven dirt, belly rumbling from yet another hungry night. All uncomfortable yet familiar feelings.

What was even the point of standing up now? It was late in the day, most of your other fellows outside of the park, begging on the streets. You never joined them. It made you feel even more pathetic, if that was possible. Your poignant figure would get you enough money to eat, but you couldn't bring yourself to. Being depended on wealthy people, whimpering beneath their feet for any change. You'd rather keep your dignity.

Finally adjusting to the sunlight, you fully sat up, massaging your forehead to relieve some pressure. What to do now? You could take a walk, but your sore muscle are crying not to. Talk with the other few presences beside you? You're good on that. Their attitude is quite coarse, you'd rather not. Besides, your aloofness would stop you either way.

Your entertainment usually consisted of brawls amongst you, just like high school kids surrounding a fight in the halls. Luckily (sadly) there weren't any to watch with them out in the streets now.

So, with one option left, your focus now shifting your focus on the nature surrounding you. Thoughts of all kind were running trough your head, but the soft delicate flowers made it bearable. This was your sad excuse of a life. No entertainment to keep your mind out of the gutter. No money for drugs or alcohol, anything that could also keep your mind away. This was it, petals of lilies being your only comfort, brushing against your hand.

You never wanted this. It wasn't your fault. Or was it? You could never decipher how it went to this situation. And that bothered you, deeply. Having such hazy memories of when it led to this hellhole you were stuck in now, you just needed to know.

All these questions whirling inside your head as you kept your gaze at a soft white flower beside you, taking note of a new figure entering from the corner your eyesight. The mysterious figure came closer, you now seeing that it was a man, a rich and opulent looking man. A nice suit, presentable hair and a couple of bags in his hands.

It was a peculiar sight to see. While this park was beautiful, there were a bunch of homeless people surrounding it, making the snobby rich turn their head away in disgust. Not coming near it. Weird that he was here.

Even weirder to see the well put man seemingly walk in your direction. Now that got your attention, focus leaving the small flower, now set on the tall man nearing your frame.

And you were right, his footsteps gradually more audible, the sunlight bouncing on his polished black shoe, he was going in your direction...why?

This made you feel uneasy. You've never had respect for the rich, jealousy? A little. But its the way they're always the same. Snobby, petulant and endearing. The money making them share the small braincell left of them, apparently. You didn't know this mans intention, and with a higher 'worth' than you, you weren't excited to know it.

Eyesight at the ground, you could now see a pair of legs, looking up to meet a charming face.

The contrast between you two was sad. Well made hair and a nice suit in comparison to your tangled hair and shirt with holes in it. Expensive cologne mixing in with the smell of musk. Two sides of the world.

"Hello, miss. Seeing as you have no hope for the future," he sharply started. Making you furrow your eyebrows as your gaze turned into a glare. "I have brought a gift for you." ending with a hopeful ending, it made your brows furrow in confusion this time. Does he have good intentions or not?

Putting down the bags he held, he reached down and pulled out something in each hand. A lottery ticket and bread.

"You're only allowed to pick one."

Was this some type of sick joke? What the rich do in the free time, tormenting the poor? Or seemingly some type of sadist joy. Both options were ones you weren't fond of.

Hesitantly staring up at the man, the charming smile still plastered on his face. You knew your choice from the start, being the bread. Your stomach was practically begging to grow arms and grab it itself. But the matter of trust is what made you cautious. Are you really going to play into this twisted game?

Apparently, yes. Hands reaching without approval, grabbing the packaged bread, all while letting your glare intensify.

Your antics making the man chuckle, smirk intensifying, his gaze dwelling on you before walking. Only once you couldn't see him did you take out the bread and demolish it.

It made you sick how he played you, but you couldn't focus on that, the satiating of your tummy overwhelming the sickness with pleasure. Its been days of the rumbling, days of sleepless night. This simple bread tasting like heaven, mouth not waiting to swallow before taking another bite.

Your ears catched on commotion around you, that douchebag asking more homeless people the same question he offered you. Knowing your mates, you knew they'd pick gamble. But you couldn't bring yourself to care about him anymore, finishing your food with one last bite.

Gosh, it really wasn't that filling, but it felt like a 5 star meal. Yet, your blissful trance was broken with a man yelling out to not waste good food.

Your eyes staring up, now finding that strange man dumping the rest of the bread on the floor. Berating everyone that this was your fault, aggressively stomping on the bread and flattening it.

What the fuck? Is this guy okay??And just like that, he left, not before giving you a quick glance though. Asshole.

It made your blood boil, everything that has happened in a span of a few minutes made your hatred even worse, your mellow mood long gone.

Later, when some of your friends came back, you started to incessantly ramble about the interaction, the smugness, the bread, the waisting. Yet all they got from that was 'free food'. Gosh, it was irritating how they don't understand anything. But it's fine, not letting them ruin your mood further as you laid down to sleep again, the day ending fast.

But this time, sleeping came with ease. Your hunger silent and behaved. It was nice, real nice. The one good thing coming out of today.

Groaning the next day once again, feeling a hand softly shake your shoulders. This time, the birds melody didn't wake you up, but a rough, yet somehow soft big hand did. Squinting your eyes, your ears revealing the hands that woke you up as a familiar voice rang through.

"Hello, miss. Care for another gift?" this just had to be a nightmare, right? Or maybe a joke? Heck, your imagination even. Sadly, it was none of the above. Your eyes, once used to the light, staring up at that same smug smile.

This time, you practically snatched it out of his hand, showing off more petulant behavior. A smirk was seen on his face, reaching down in the bags again. Taking out another piece of bread, his soft hands brushing against your roughened ones as he placed it on your palm, leaving with no words exchanged.

You were pleasantly surprised. Why would he do that? You didn't think about it clearly though, letting the bread fill your mouth again.

He carried out what he did yesterday, asking each individual before pouring the bread down on the floor again.

"This better not become a routine.." you sighed, his shiny shoes stomping the bread beyond repair. Again, glancing at you before finally leaving. It just felt surreal, hoping this was the last time.

But, your hopes were clearly ignored as he came back the next morning and even the next day. Again and again coming back, adding a piece of bread each time you saw him. His features getting softer, his words less snarky. Flattening the bread and letting his eyes lingering on you everytime, way too much for comfort, before going away.

You really couldn't tell if you hate him or love him.

This day though, you woke up relatively early. Earlier than the man, which really was a relief. And with all the energy the food gave you over the days, you decided to go for a walk, an activity you've always enjoyed but your body hated.

Striding down the streets, getting a few glares, some things really don't change. And that was oddly comforting.

Looking around the city, it really was beautiful. Shops lighting up with all kinds of colours, a few people running early in the morning to stay fit. Yet your favourite was the smell of pastries. Specifically the traditional french bakery you've come across now.

You loved them as a kid, your little taste buds exploding each time. Even now, as you've come across it, you stood still for a good amount of time. Letting the smell fill your nose up completely. It really holds so many memories.

Your eyes now turning to the small shop, wanting to look at the baked goods you can only dream of tasting.

But, as you looked trough the glass, you let out a small gasp.

Him.

Seeing his slicked back hair from a mile away, bags in his hand as he payed for a piece of cake. You wanted to walk away, but sadly it was in vain.

"Oh, hello miss. Coincidence seeing you here." he started, his voice ringing behind you.

"Yeah...what a coincidence." awkwardly talking back, you never actually had a conversation with him. Only mumbles of a thanks and a 'have a nice day'.

You turned now to meet him, not wanting to be seen as rude in the streets. And this time, he had a charming smile plastered on his face.

"Well, that makes my job much easier, here, I believe this is for you." reaching out the small pink cake slice out to you, shoving it in your hand before you could protest. Your stunned features scrunching up. Is he really being this nice?

As you looked down at the strawberry cake, surprisingly your favourite one, you couldn't help a small blush escaping, cheeks warming up at his gesture. You could see him fiddling with something in his jacket as you bowed down for his gratitude, something you usually hated doing.

"Here, before I forget. Have a nice day, lovely" he gave you written white paper before turning his back and letting his pace quicken.

He knew he shouldn't have given you that. Neither the cake nor the paper, his hand now fiddling with the brown card in his jacket. The one he was supposed to give to you.

He just couldn't bring himself to. How could he let someone as weak as you join the games? Instead, he gave you a disgustingly sweet letter, his (fake) adresse written on the bottom to give you a place to sleep. Showing he isn't the irascible person you made him out to be, seemingly getting joy from stepping on the bread, when his joy stemmed from you.

The moment he met you from afar, months ago, he became obsessed. The pragmatic way was to simply ask you for a date, but he just couldn't. His job conflicting it, his emotions quite a mess. He simply hopes one day to have you. Hoping your coarse hand can hold his one day.

Hoping for you.

[fuckyeahgongyoo]

Dec 2024 | Squid Game 2, Behind the Scenes (x)

[loonymagizoologist]

I raise you - Mothefucker 001

My Shayla

[he3ts]

writing a fanfic about gong yoo is tempting me a lot

that is, look at himmmm

[ourseasone]

CHAPTER 002 ∘ ∘ ∘ cattle in slaughterhouse

previous masterlist next

“please look into the camera and smile!”

you straighten your back, a flicker of annoyance washing over you as you brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead. you force a smile onto your lips, the kind that barely reaches your eyes ━ one you’ve perfected over the years for occasions just like this. a moment later, you hear the soft ‘click’ of the camera.

the masked people (who you now assume are some kind of guards) had told you to follow once you finished signing the contract. they hadn’t offered much else in the way of direction or explanation, only that you were about to play the first game.

the more you take in the surroundings, the more unsettled you become. the place is a maze of staircases and doors, twisting and turning in every direction like a funhouse designed by someone with a sick sense of humor. the colors here are muted, softer than the cold, sterile room where you had awoken, yet there’s something unnerving about it all, almost like a playground with a hidden, malicious edge.

the dissonance is enough to make you feel like you’re losing your grip on reality.

“please follow the other players,” a round-masked guard intones, his voice monotonous and empty.

you shake yourself out of your spiraling thoughts, realizing you’ve been standing still for too long. you step forward, scanning your surroundings, trying to keep your focus, but your eyes inevitably drift to the right. and then you freeze.

there, standing just a few feet away, is myeong-gi, your ex-boyfriend. the shock on his face is unmistakable, eyes wide with disbelief, as if he never expected to see you here, in this hellish place. you, on the other hand, aren’t surprised at all. you’d known myeong-gi was here. you had seen the familiar face in the lineup earlier, but part of you had hoped you wouldn’t have to confront him. not here, not now.

but of course, life doesn’t care about your preferences.

you quickly look ahead again, avoiding myeong-gi’s gaze. your feet carry you forward, following the others as they move down the labyrinthine corridors, but myeong-gi’s presence lingers like an uncomfortable weight in the air.

then, myeong-gi calls out, his voice cutting through the tension.

“y/nie!” the nickname hits you like a punch to the gut. you stop dead in your tracks, your pulse quickening against your will.

there it is, the reminder of a time you’ve tried to bury. you feel your chest tighten, a knot forming in your stomach. you hate how your body betrays you like this ━ how hearing that voice, those two simple syllables, can send a surge of emotion you don’t want to feel.

myeong-gi doesn’t hesitate, stepping right beside you, forcing the other players to slow down and awkwardly shuffle to a halt. the noise around you fades as if the world is pausing just for this moment. the irritating robotic voice, the shuffle of footsteps, the hum of the fluorescent lights ━ all of it fades into the background, leaving only the feeling of myeong-gi’s presence beside you.

“y/nie? fuck, it’s really you. what are you doing here?”

myeong-gi’s words come out breathless, as if he can’t quite believe it. you can see the confusion, and maybe even a little guilt, flashing in his eyes. myeong-gi places a hand on your arm, gently turning you toward him, searching your face like he’s trying to read something in it that he doesn’t understand. the touch is soft, hesitant, but you recoil inwardly.

you don’t want to be here, caught in this moment with him, but you can’t seem to find a way to escape it.

myeong-gi looks at you the way a person would examine a painting after years of not seeing it, as if trying to memorize every curve, every line of your features, as if it matters. you feel your skin flush under the intense gaze, and the old wounds, the old feelings, start to resurface ━ things you thought you had buried long ago.

but before you can process any of it, someone behind you impatiently calls out, their voice a harsh reminder of the time ticking away.

“move it! you’re blocking the way!”

your head snaps back to reality, and you grit your teeth.

“for the same reason as everyone else here,” you mutter, your voice a touch too sharp, before starting to walk again, determined to put some distance between yourself and myeong-gi.

myeong-gi follows, his steps quick and light as he stays close behind. you can feel his presence lingering like a shadow, the gap between you too narrow for your liking.

“ah… yeah…” myeong-gi’s voice trails off, hesitant, unsure.

you want to tell him to leave you alone, to stop trying to drag you back into something you’ve worked so hard to escape. but then you remember where you are. in this twisted game, nothing is what it seems. you’re both just players in a much bigger scheme, and whatever happened between you outside of these walls seems almost irrelevant now.

still, the bitterness that lingers from your past weighs on you like a chain. should you still be angry with him? should you lash out and demand answers for the way myeong-gi had treated you? or should you let it go, just for now, just to get through this?

part of you wants to ignore him, to pretend that myeong-gi doesn’t exist in this place, but then that part of you ━ the part that had walked away from myeong-gi in the first place ━ tells you to do just that. to leave myeong-gi behind, just as you did before.

“how have you been since, uh—” myeong-gi glances away awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable. “since the last time…?”

you look at him out of the corner of your eye, the words hanging in the air, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“absolutely great, actually. never been better,” you lie, the words slipping out effortlessly, like they always have.

before myeong-gi can respond, the sound of a door creaking open cuts through the air, followed by the sudden rush of noise as the players begin to move forward. you’ve arrived at the first game.

you take a deep breath as the scent of fresh air greets you. you look up at the open sky above, the roofless expanse stretching out like a canvas. it’s surreal. you haven’t been outside in what feels like an eternity. the breeze brushes against your face, cool and refreshing.

“welcome to the first game,” the robotic voice announces. “all players, please wait a moment on the field.”

you feel like you’re standing inside a box.

the walls surrounding you are painted with intricate murals of nature ━ lush green fields and wide open meadows stretching under a clear, blue sky. from where you stand, the scene looks almost serene, peaceful even. but the longer you stand there, the more suffocating the place feels.

it’s as if the painted sky above is a lie, a perfect illusion masking the truth of your confinement. no matter how wide the sky appears, you can’t shake the gnawing feeling that you’re trapped in this strange, artificial world, with no way out.

your eyes scan the space ahead of you.

at the far end of the field stands a massive doll, standing still, towering over the others. you raise an eyebrow at it, your gaze lingering for a moment.

the doll is eerily lifelike, with porcelain skin and vacant eyes, its dress flowing like the wind is caught in it despite the stillness. you’ve seen dolls like that in horror movies, and it immediately sends a chill crawling down your spine. you don’t know what to make of it, but something about it feels wrong.

the whole setup is unsettling, leaving you no clearer about what kind of game you’re about to play.

“what the hell is that?” myeong-gi mutters from beside you, his voice laced with the same tension you feel but don’t vocalize.

“no idea,” you reply with a shrug.

the loud slam of doors echoes behind you, snapping your attention back to the space around you. you turn instinctively, like everyone else, your gaze darting toward the source of the noise. the doors you’d entered through are now shut tightly, sealing you in.

“the first game is red light, green light,” the robotic voice announces.

red light, green light?

so you’re really just going to play some children’s game to win an enormous amount of money? it’s so absurd it almost seems like a joke.

you look over at myeong-gi, whose face mirrors your own, a spark of something in his eyes, an almost excited glint. you give him a small, involuntary nod in return, a silent acknowledgment that you’re both thinking the same thing.

this is going to be so fucking easy.

“cross the finish line in five minutes without getting caught. if you do, you pass.”

“everyone!” a man’s voice rings out from the center of the field. “everyone, listen up! pay attention!”

you wince slightly at the urgency in the man’s tone. the shout is sharp, almost panicked, and it’s the same guy who had spoken up earlier, the one who had asked about the vote and prize money.

“listen carefully!” the man’s voice rises, his face tight with fear. “this is not just a game! if you lose the game… you die!”

your brow furrows, your stomach twisting with a combination of disbelief and growing unease. what is this guy talking about? myeong-gi scoffs, rolling his eyes. you shift your attention toward him, noting the way his lips curl in disdain.

“what is he talking about?” myeong-gi mutters, barely a whisper, but it’s enough for you to hear.

you don’t answer, but inside, your thoughts are spinning. is this guy insane? the whole thing feels like a bad joke. people don’t die playing red light, green light. it’s a game for kids. there’s no way anyone would actually die, right? it’s ridiculous.

unless… maybe it’s not. your stomach tightens, unease creeping in like cold fingers wrapping around your spine. this whole situation is fucked up, and something tells you this isn’t just a normal game. it feels… wrong. but you need the money. you have no choice. you’ll play, even if it doesn’t make sense.

“hey! what are you talking about?” a woman snaps at him. “we’re going to die playing red light, green light?”

“yes, that’s right! if they catch you moving, they will kill you! they will shoot you from somewhere! that doll’s eyes are motion detectors!–”

your heart skips a beat at the mention of the doll’s eyes. you hadn’t even thought of that ━ how they might be more than just creepy. your gaze snaps to the doll once more, its gaze unsettling, its large, unblinking eyes somehow even more menacing now.

“y/nie,” myeong-gi says quietly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts. “you know, about what happened—”

you turn to look at myeong-gi, who seems almost hesitant, his words hanging in the air, unfinished. he’s looking at you like there’s something important he wants to say. you tilt your head, raising an eyebrow.

you know that expression too well. myeong-gi is holding back, unsure of how to put his feelings into words.

“what is it?” you ask, your voice low.

you’re not sure if you want to hear what myeong-gi has to say. your relationship had ended on shaky ground, and this doesn’t feel like the right moment to go digging up old feelings.

myeong-gi stutters, trying to find his words. “i wanted to tell you that i’m really—”

“let the game begin.”

the words hang in the air, and you immediately shift your gaze away from myeong-gi, your mind now focused entirely on the game. your heart pounds in your chest as the massive doll at the far end of the field suddenly turns its back to you.

“green light, red light.”

without hesitation, you take a step forward, your muscles tense, like a coiled spring ready to snap. myeong-gi follows, just a breath behind you, your steps synchronized in the eerie silence. but the moment the doll’s voice finishes its phrase, you freeze in place, muscles locking.

you remain still, your mind whirling as the weight of the situation presses down on you. your feet feel glued to the floor, like moving would invite disaster. out of the corner of your eye, you see the rest of the players doing the same, frozen, holding their breath. no one dares to make a sound.

“well done! you just need to stay calm like this!” player 456, with his voice almost frantic now, shouts from somewhere in the crowd.

his words ring in the air, bouncing off the walls in a way that should sound reassuring, but instead, they stir something deep in you. the man is shouting instructions as though he’s been through this before, but you can’t shake the gnawing sense of distrust. there’s something off about him, something that doesn’t quite sit right.

the doll’s head snaps back, its empty eyes now sweeping over the crowd.

“green light, red light.”

the cycle starts again.

you take a few steps forward, moving cautiously. myeong-gi is still with you, trailing behind, his breathing shaky. you can feel it ━ a heavy weight in the air. this game, this whole thing, it’s too easy. ridiculously simple. move when they say ‘green light’, stop when they say ‘red light’. they’re really going to win 45.6 billion won just by playing children’s games? it’s absurd. ridiculous.

“don’t move and stay still! just relax!” player 456 continues to shout, his voice growing more grating with every repetition.

the sound begins to claw at your nerves.

the same process repeats over and over, again and again. no one’s been caught, and no one has lost yet. deep down, something’s eating at you. the more players who succeed, the less of that money you’ll walk away with. you’re not a fool. you know how this works. the fewer winners there are, the bigger your slice of the pie.

you don’t want to admit it, but you secretly hope someone messes up.

come on. just one slip. one mistake.

the moment the thought crosses your mind, a high-pitched scream cuts through the air, followed by a sharp, sudden silence.

your body stiffens, but your eyes are already scanning the crowd, seeking the source of the chaos. you see her ━ player 196, her arms flailing wildly, her body twisting in desperate panic. your heart skips a beat.

one less, you think.

and then, the gunshot.

it rings out with a deafening crack, and your whole body jerks as though struck. your breath catches in your throat, and your stomach lurches violently. the girl’s body collapses, crumpling lifelessly to the floor as blood blooms from the hole in her head. your eyes widen in disbelief.

what the hell just happened?

she’s… dead. no, that can’t be real.

“player 196, eliminated.”

the next scream follows quickly, then another gunshot. another life snuffed out in an instant.

“damn, he wasn’t lying,” you mutter under your breath, the words leaving your lips barely audible, as though saying them any louder would make it worse.

panic explodes around you.

players scatter in every direction, screaming, pushing, and shoving, as if running will save them.

do they not understand? do they not see what’s happening? they’re running straight into death. your heart races, your thoughts clear despite the chaos. they’re idiots. they’re all idiots. moving means death. haven’t they seen it? haven’t they heard the shots? why would anyone risk it?

you glance at myeong-gi, still standing beside you. the smaller man looks like he’s about to crumble under the weight of what’s unfolding. his face is pale, eyes wide with terror, lips trembling, and you can feel his panic mounting as he stares at the bodies that continue to drop around you. his breaths are quick, shallow, the sound of them almost frantic.

“don’t look,” you whisper urgently, trying to keep your voice steady. “look away. you don’t need to see this.”

myeong-gi listens, his face twisted with horror as he squeezes his eyes shut, desperate to shut out the nightmare around him. your chest tightens as you watch him, a painful ache forming in your heart.

you want to protect myeong-gi from this, but there’s nothing you can do.

the gunfire is relentless, the shots punctuating the air like a heartbeat. one by one, players drop like flies, scattered like cattle in a slaughterhouse, their lives snuffed out without a second thought. you can barely keep track. you’re losing count.

“let me repeat,” the robotic voice echoes as the gunfire finally ceases. “you can move forward while the tagger shouts, green light, red light. if your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated.”

eliminated. the word echoes in your mind like a cruel taunt. so that’s what it really meant. not disqualified, not removed from the games, but dead.

your stomach churns as you recall the word printed so plainly on the contract you signed.

you should’ve trusted your gut when you first saw it ━ should’ve walked away before it was too late. but you didn’t. and now here you are. you swallow hard, the metallic taste of fear on your tongue.

if you move ━ no, if that doll sees you move ━ you’ll die. if it sees myeong-gi move, he’ll die. the reality of the situation is stark, and it’s clawing at the edges of your composure.

“green light, red light.”

no one moves. no one even dares to breathe.

“green light, red light.”

again, not a single soul stirs.

“you’ll also die if you don’t make it there in time!” player 456 yells, his voice is strained, frantic. “that doll is a motion detector! but it can’t detect movement that’s hidden!”

your instincts kick in immediately, overriding the fear that has been paralyzing you. your eyes dart to myeong-gi, who stands beside you like a trembling leaf in the wind. the smaller man looks utterly petrified, his wide eyes locked on the doll as though sheer terror alone would keep him safe. your chest tightens.

if myeong-gi stayed behind you, the doll wouldn’t see him. he could be shielded. he’d be safe… wouldn’t he?

“get behind someone bigger than you! like you’re playing ‘follow the leader’! we’re running out of time! we’ve got to move!”

“green light, red light,” the doll turns its head again, and everyone starts moving cautiously.

you don’t hesitate this time. the second the doll’s head swivels away, you grab myeong-gi’s arm and yank him behind you.

“stay behind me,” you hiss, your voice firm, almost a growl. “i’m taller. that fucking doll won’t see you.”

myeong-gi opens his mouth to argue, his lips trembling as he tries to form words. he wants to tell you not to do this, not to risk yourself for his sake. if you die, myeong-gi couldn’t live with the guilt. he doesn’t want to be spared if it means you’d take the hit.

but the words never come.

the moment of protest vanishes as quickly as it had appeared, swallowed by fear and the unrelenting pressure of time ticking away. myeong-gi doesn’t have the strength to object, nor the time to argue. your grip on his arm tightens, and before he can say anything, you’re moving.

you lead the way, each step measured and deliberate. you overtake several other players, your eyes never leaving the doll, your entire body coiled like a spring ready to snap. the second the doll’s phrase ends, you freeze, your body rigid.

the silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the sound of shallow breathing and the occasional stifled whimper.

then, the voice comes.

“player 188, eliminated.”

“player 244, eliminated.”

each announcement is punctuated by a gunshot. the sound slices through the air like a blade, cold and unrelenting. you fight the instinct to flinch, your body stiff as a statue. you don’t move a muscle, don’t let yourself react. if you let the fear in now, even for a second, it’ll consume you whole.

your grip tightens on myeong-gi’s hand ━ no, wait. when had myeong-gi’s hand slipped into yours? you barely register the smaller man’s fingers interlaced with your own, holding on like a lifeline. somehow, it’s enough to keep your trembling at bay.

“green light, red light.”

the cycle begins again.

move. stop. watch people die. move again.

step by agonizing step, the participants inch forward, their breaths shallow, their movements calculated. with each red light, another set of gunshots rings out, and the ground becomes littered with the fallen. it’s horrific, but no one dares to look down for too long. they can’t. looking means acknowledging the truth of it, and the truth is unbearable.

eventually, the group adapts. a pattern forms ━ one that feels more like a desperate gamble than a plan. they’ve started advancing in single file, a method designed to minimize the doll’s line of sight. those at the front of the line are the most vulnerable, the first to be scanned by those unblinking eyes.

you’re near the front. of course you are.

you don’t know whether to curse your bad luck or accept it as some cruel inevitability. either way, it’s a dangerous position, and the knowledge of it hangs over you like a guillotine. you keep your head down, your focus sharp. it’s all you can do to survive.

as the finish line draws closer, the air feels heavier. the death toll has risen drastically; you wouldn’t be surprised if over two hundred people had already been eliminated. the thought barely registers anymore. the sheer scale of it is numbing.

“green light, red light.”

the doll’s phrase snaps you back into action. your muscles burn with exhaustion, but you push forward. beside you ━ or rather, slightly behind you ━ myeong-gi keeps pace. his grip on your hand hasn’t faltered once, as if letting go would spell disaster.

you don’t blame him.

the finish line is so close now. just a few more steps.

“green light, red light.”

this time, you don’t hesitate. you and myeong-gi break into a desperate sprint, your legs pumping with every ounce of strength you have left. the finish line blurs in your vision, but you keep going, driven by sheer survival instinct.

when you cross it, relief floods through you like a crashing wave. the moment your feet hit the other side, your legs give out, and you collapse onto the ground, your back slamming against the cold wall behind you. you don’t care how undignified it looks.

you’ve made it. you’re fucking alive.

your breathing comes out in harsh, ragged gasps, your chest heaving as you try to steady yourself. everything around you feels distorted, like you’re underwater. your vision wavers, the edges of your sight swimming with black spots.

a sharp sound drags you back. gunfire.

you lift your head, your movements sluggish. three more players collapse just meters from the finish line. you watch, unblinking, as their bodies crumple to the ground, motionless. the scene unfolds before you like a twisted film, surreal and horrifying.

but your mind refuses to process it.

no, they’re not dead. they can’t be. this isn’t real. this is all some elaborate trick, right? no one would actually kill people over a stupid game.

deep down, you know the truth. they are dead. those gunshots were real. this entire thing is real. but clinging to denial feels safer, like a shield against the horror threatening to overwhelm you. if you accept the truth now, you might never recover.

so you lie to yourself. it’s just a game. it’s fine. you’re fine.

and myeong-gi is alive.

“y/nie.”

the sound of your nickname pulls you out of your spiraling thoughts. the voice is soft but urgent, laced with concern.

“y/nie, are you okay? are you hurt?”

you tilt your head up, your gaze meeting myeong-gi’s wide, teary eyes. he’s crouched in front of you, gripping your arm with trembling hands. the grip is almost too tight, but you don’t flinch.

you watch as myeong-gi’s expression shifts, the worry etched into every line of his face. his lips press into a thin line, his brows drawn together in distress. you can feel the fear radiating off him, see it in the way myeong-gi’s shoulders shake ever so slightly.

for a moment, you consider pulling away. you could push those hands off, brush myeong-gi aside, tell him to stop fussing. but you don’t have the strength to resist. instead, you exhale shakily and give a faint nod.

“i’m fine,” you mumble, though your voice lacks conviction.

myeong-gi doesn’t look convinced either, but he doesn’t press further. he just stays where he is, hands still gripping your arm, his presence grounding.

the reality of your situation weighs heavily on your mind. you don’t know what kind of hell you’ve stepped into, but one thing is certain: there’s sure no way out.

for now, all you can do is survive.

previous masterlist next

note ∘ ∘ ∘ the dynamic between you and myeonggi is still unclear and complicated haha… we’ll learn more about your past relationship in the upcoming chapters!

taglist ∘ ∘ ∘ @suunani @academiq @startaegi @okaycharr @mayaswrld1212 @belladonna6-6-6 @desafortuno @noxitsnox @trizxyp @inarizqkis @gunatth @jamiliana @w4ldorfs @juuyeeos @wshyouwerehere @aspekt-touch @twomocns (please let me know if you wanna be added!)

[saivii]

I saw these alignment charts and knew I had to make a squid game version of them lol. Enjoy!

[memopilled]

£25

$23.45

[eddielove]

Lives were changed

[pretty-boydyke]

Gay people will do everything but their damn job

[abii-reb]

Kang Dae-ho

"Stay Behind Me" pt1

❥ summary: where our ex-marine can't help but feel strangely attracted to the beautiful girl with blonde hair and cute freckles.

❥ word count: 1.7k

❥ warnings: fem!Reader, mention of death and blood

❥ authors note: Hi! I'm Abi. This is my first time writing on Tumblr :) and my first language is not English, so if I misspelled anything please let me know!

From the moment he saw her smile and pose for the photo they were taking at the start, Dae-ho couldn’t help but notice her. Not because he wanted to, but because something about her presence seemed to draw attention effortlessly. She was the blonde girl with long hair, the kind of golden tone that caught the soft light in the room, making it appear gentler than anyone in a place like this had a right to be. And those freckles... damn, they were like tiny specks of art scattered across her face, framing eyes that shone with a mix of calmness and determination.

Not that Dae-ho cared, of course. He wasn’t there to admire anyone’s beauty. He was there to win. But somehow, his gaze kept drifting back to her, no matter how hard he tried to resist. It was absurd how his mind insisted on taking in every detail—from the way she tucked her hair behind her ear to how she seemed to analyze the situation with a precision that intrigued him.

“She’s nothing special,” he told himself in an attempt to cut off those thoughts. But almost immediately, he corrected himself: “Well, yeah, she’s cute, I guess.” That simple admission made him frown at himself. This wasn’t the time or place to be thinking about things like that, and he knew it.

When the first game began, "Red Light, Green Light," she caught his attention again—this time because of the way she stepped slightly away from the crowd. It was a smart move, albeit risky. Most people stuck to the center, as if being surrounded offered some false sense of security. But not her. She stayed near the edge, choosing an open space where no one could sabotage her. That’s when Dae-ho realized something else about her: she wasn’t just cute—she was clever.

Her decision paid off. Soon enough, some players started pushing each other for no reason, and gunshots rang out as the cameras detected even the smallest movements. The chaos that erupted only confirmed what he already suspected: the girl knew how to think strategically.

For his part, Dae-ho decided that sticking close to her wasn’t a bad idea. Not because she was cute, of course, but because she seemed to know what she was doing. At least, that’s what he told himself as he carefully advanced.

Step by step, syncing his movements with the game, he eventually positioned himself behind her. Just when he thought he had everything under control, something unexpected happened: she stumbled. It was a small movement, almost imperceptible, but enough to make her lurch forward. Before she could hit the ground and risk her life, Dae-ho acted purely on instinct. He lunged forward and grabbed her by the waist, his hands finding a firm hold to steady her.

The contact was brief but intense. Gently yet firmly, he helped her stand upright, making sure she didn’t move more than necessary. She turned slightly to look at him, her eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and gratitude, while he tried to keep his composure as if it were no big deal.

“Be careful,” he muttered quietly, his tone more commanding than he intended. But inside, his heart was pounding, and it had nothing to do with the stress of the game.

Dae-ho didn’t think twice before stepping forward and placing himself in front of her, shielding her with his broad frame. It was as if some protective instinct had taken over—a reflex he couldn’t explain. If that doll detected any movement, he’d rather it be his than hers.

“Stay behind me and don’t move,” he whispered firmly, without looking back at her. He knew that even the slightest distraction could cost them their lives.

She obeyed, but couldn’t help whispering back, her voice so soft it almost blended with the wind:

“Thank you… that was really brave of you.”

Dae-ho didn’t respond right away. His jaw was tight, his eyes locked on the path ahead. Talking during the game was risky, but he couldn’t deny that a small part of him was affected by her words. Even so, he forced himself to stay focused, blocking out any emotions that could betray him.

“Just focus on moving forward,” he replied, curt but not cold. It was his way of protecting her, of keeping her from letting her guard down too soon.

Long seconds passed that felt like hours. Each pause in the doll’s song brought a brief sense of relief, but every time the music stopped, the danger pulsed in the air again. Dae-ho moved with precise steps, ensuring his body remained a shield between her and that fucking doll.

When they were close to the finish line, the tension in his body was almost suffocating. He could feel the pressure behind him, as if she were holding her breath, waiting for his next move. That’s when he made a decision: he subtly reached his hand back, his fingers searching for hers until he found them.

“When the music starts again, run with me, okay?” he murmured, his tone more of a command than a suggestion.

She didn’t reply, but her hand gripped his firmly—a silent confirmation that she was ready. The song resumed, and without a second thought, Dae-ho pulled her forward with him, sprinting full speed toward the finish line. His heart pounded, not just from the physical exertion but because he knew one wrong move could doom them both.

When they finally crossed to the other side, relief hit them like a wave. She dropped to her knees, gasping for air, while Dae-ho bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. There were no victory cries or triumphant smiles—just the sound of their breathing, mingling with the screams of those still struggling to survive.

When they’d both calmed down a little, their eyes met at last. It was a strange moment, charged with something neither of them could put into words.

“Y/n…” she said finally, breaking the silence as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “My name’s Y/n.”

Dae-ho straightened, still not looking away from her. His voice, when he replied, was softer than usual, as if saying her name was a privilege.

“Kang Dae-ho.”

“Thank you, Dae-ho,” she whispered, her gaze filled with a mix of gratitude and something else—something he wasn’t ready to figure out.

(...)

The massive room, packed with bunk beds stacked to dizzying heights, was enveloped in an eerie silence, broken only by scattered murmurs and the muffled sobs of a few players. The cold lights cast long shadows, making the space feel even more oppressive. Dae-ho, sitting on his bunk, couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was on the highest bed of one of the rows across the dorm, sitting cross-legged with her gaze fixed somewhere on the floor. Her blonde hair fell messily over her shoulders, though it was clear she didn’t care. There was something different about her now, a glow that was no longer there.

Without thinking too much about it, Dae-ho stood up and began climbing the bunks toward her. He didn’t care about the curious glances from the others. He just knew he had to get closer. When he reached her bed, he leaned in carefully so as not to startle her.

“Can I sit here?” he asked, his voice low but gentle.

She looked up, visibly surprised to see him there. She hesitated for a moment but finally nodded, scooting over slightly to make room for him.

Dae-ho sat next to her, observing her quietly. He could see how she nervously fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, twisting and untwisting it, as if she needed something tangible to occupy her restless mind.

“What’s wrong?” he finally asked, his tone direct but tinged with concern.

She sighed, keeping her gaze down, avoiding his.

“I didn’t expect… this,” she murmured, gesturing vaguely at the emptiness around them, as if trying to encompass everything that had happened. “The deaths, the blood… I didn’t think it would be like this.”

Dae-ho waited silently, giving her space to continue.

“I thought they’d just be kids’ games. Harder, sure, but not so… inhuman,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I can’t believe how many people died out there… and I… I just want to leave.”

Her confession hung in the air. Dae-ho watched her in silence, seeing how her strong, determined facade was crumbling. It was hard to process, but he understood exactly how she felt.

“Listen,” he said firmly, turning slightly to face her. “None of us thought it would be like this. We’re all scared, but you survived, okay? You made it through that game. It’s not easy, but if you want to make it out of here alive, you have to keep going.”

She looked at him, her brown eyes glistening with tears she didn’t dare let fall.

“What if I can’t?”

“You can.” he said without hesitation. “And I’ll make sure you do.”

She let out a nervous, almost incredulous laugh.

“Why do you care so much? You barely know me.”

Dae-ho shrugged, though his gaze was intense.

“Why do you trust me so much? You barely know me.” he countered with the same logic.

“I don’t know… something tells me I should,” She said, shrugging as a shy smile crept onto her face.

“Exactly. Something tells us to.” he replied, his tone unwavering.

For a moment, she studied him in silence. Eventually, a small, tired smile formed on her lips.

“Thanks, Dae-ho.” she whispered, her voice softer now.

He nodded and, almost instinctively, placed his large hand over her delicate one, giving it a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

“Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s a new day, and you’ll need to be rested.”

[gulnarsultan]

😍

Being Their Girlfriend Would Include :

Recruiter Edition.

Series Masterlist.

Main Masterlist.

GORE WARNING.

This man comes with a warning of his own.

Hella POSSESIVE.

This man is a smug bastard especially to others and considers them trash but when it comes to you he's suddenly a most well mannered person you have ever met ✨.

Has a GOD LEVEL PATIENCE.

Makes the most watering dishes for you and in doing so wears a cute apron and becomes a cute househusband all for you 🤸.

One time, a slick man thought he could get away by taking panty shots of you being unbeknownst and found himself kidnapped, gagged and bound and in front of him stood your boyfriend with a sadistic calm expression and his revolver.

And the next thing the man knew was he had his blood and brains splattered on the wall behind him like a abstract art.

Afterwards he dumped the man in the incinerator and left him to burn along with his cracked phone periodt.

Will break anyone's bone and disfigure them if some distresses you in any manner just say the word and the person is no longer in existence.

Is extremly touch starved.

Is a big spoon but wouldnt mind being the little spoon.

would hold you close and hum you to sleep if you're stressed or burned out.

He just doesn't want to lose you ❤️‍🩹.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Can I request a fic where like reader and the salesman are married and they both work for the games. Where like instead of being a recruiter, reader is a guard? So one morning they’re both getting for the game.

game time ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪.

A/N: decided to make reader a waitress for the VIPS because the guards get ready at the games or whatever… and I feel like it’d be complicated ash to write lol

WARNINGS: mentions of canon typical squid games murder, very ooc recuriter but IDGAF SMD

MASTERLIST

Every single year, ever since you’ve been hired at 18, you’ve had the same routine before the games. Put on your uniform, your ugly black mask, and keep a stoic face the entire time you’re serving them.

At least it pays.

Now, while you would still dread getting up and working, preparing for the terrible treatment from the VIPS that would last weeks, at least you had him by your side.

His eyes were still shut, his chest slowly rising and falling with an arm lazily draped over your body. You traced patterns over his biceps, glancing down at the finger that had his ring on it.

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips despite the pain that tugged at your chest when you knew you’d have to leave this for a while, leave him for a while.

The worst part now, about getting up and knowing you’d have to go back to that island? It was leaving him.

In a few mere moments after, his eyes fluttered open, and he had a small, graceful smile on his face when he was met with the sight of you. He glanced down upon feeling your touch on his skin, letting out a raspy chuckle when he saw your hands on his biceps, tracing circles on him.

“Good morning.” He murmured out quietly, his eyes narrowed, and you could tell he was still half asleep.

“Good morning.” You replied in the same volume, and your peaceful moment was interrupted by a sound of your phone ringing.

You let out a huff, smile faltering as you picked it up and put it to your ear.

“Hello, sir.” You spoke, hearing a sharp voice cut through.

“I expect you to be at the jet in 3 hours. Don’t be late.” He spoke, before hanging up.

You put your phone down, looking back at him.

“How much time do you have?”

“Three hours.” You sighed out.

“Oh. Well, I suppose should probably get up anyways.” He said, remembering his plans for the day.

The both of you sat up, him letting out a low groan as he stretched his arms before standing up, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

Both of you made your way to the bathroom at the same time, picking up your toothbrushes and beginning to brush your teeth. You stole glances at him through the mirror, letting out a little giggle when you saw him with some white paste on the corner of his mouth, and you saw him smile at the sound.

He spoke incoherently, toothpaste still in his mouth.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, and he leaned down to spit in the sink, rinsing it out.

“What?” He spoke, amused tone in his voice, watching you lean down to spit out the toothpaste in your mouth.

“Nothing. You just look silly when you have toothpaste in the corner of your mouth.” You told him, moving your thumb up to his face and wiping it off for him.

He wiggled his eyebrows, “I look silly?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, his smile widening as he moved quickly, making it so he was behind you as he tickled you, you letting out loud fits of laughter.

“Stop! Oh my god, stop!” You squealed out, grin on his face as he continued his attack.

Eventually, he stopped, proud grin on his face as he continued to brush his teeth and run a hand through his hair as though nothing had happened.

You then hopped into the shower, knowing you wouldn’t get another nice, hot shower for another couple days. It’s usually only colder, communal showers on the island. He was in the kitchen, getting breakfast ready for the both of you.

With your towel wrapped around your body, you went into the closet, moving your clothes and going to the back, picking up your standard uniform, throwing the mask onto the bed behind you.

You began to put it on, and he watched as you struggled to tie the back of your apron. He walked back into the room, a small smile on his face as he made his way towards you.

“Here.” He mumbled, you turning around. He helped you tie it quickly, looking at how you looked at him through the body length mirror next to the bed.

His hands went to your shoulders, and he leaned down to press a kiss against your covered shoulder blade, before moving away, breaking his gaze away from your reflection. He went to the closet as well, you moving to sit down on the bed.

He shuffled through clothing and landed on a suit, picking it up and putting it gently onto the bed before going to his belts and pants.

“Do you have to work today?” You asked him with a tilt of your head.

“Unfortunately.” He hummed out, “I have to look at potential prospects for next year. That, along with some… other clientele scouting. It’s mostly computer work,” he waved his hand. “Light stalking.” He spoke as he removed his ring and placed it on the dresser, something he did each year.

He wanted to protect you, saying how that if someone had come for him, and they saw the ring, they could come looking for you. And he .would never forgive himself if that ever happened

“Ah.” You nodded, watching him give you a small smile when he turned, before stripping down into his boxers and beginning to change.

You watched the clock tick and the minutes pass by, a gnawing feeling eating at you each time. God, you were gonna miss him, you thought as you sat down to eat with him.

The both of you ate in silence, simply enjoying each others presence for the last couple days. He picked up both plates, making his way to the kitchen and placing the dishes in the sink.

“We should get going soon.” He told you, glancing at the clock while drying his hands off.

“I know.” You sighed out, and he gave you a sad smile, picking his car keys and briefcase up and waiting for you at the door, watching you scramble across the room for the rest of your belongings and your bag.

“C’mon,” he murmured, hand on the small of your back as you both left the house, you glancing back one more time.

He opened the passenger door for you, him getting in the drivers seat.

“So… what are you gonna do?” You asked him, to which he replied with a small shrug of his shoulders.

“Work, mostly. Just to distract myself.”

You pouted at him, and he glanced at you before turning back to the road.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” He assured you. “Plus, it’ll be better to put some more into savings.”

“I wanna quit, anyways. It’s… too much. The VIPS, the frontman, the games…”

“You know he wouldn’t like that.”

“I know.” You replied quietly, looking down at your lap.

Upon seeing your upset state, he thought for a moment, before he let out a sigh. “But… I can see what I can do.” You turned to him now, intrigued. “I’m indispensable, aren’t I? If he wants to say something to you, I’ll threaten to leave as well.”

You had a soft smile smile on your face at his words. “Really?”

“Really.” He spoke firmly as he nodded, and pulled up to the hangar, flashing his ID to the guard that stood there.

The gate opened, and you exhaled heavily as your eyes landed on all of the other waiters, along with some of the guards.

He pulled his car into park, leaning back in his seat before getting out, rounding the car and going to the passenger seat once more, opening it for you. You got out, and wrapped your arms around him quickly. He let out a chuckle, wrapping his arms around you as well, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“I love you.” He told you quietly, leaning down to hold your face in his hands.

“I love you too,” you replied, and gave him another smile, before pecking his lips. “I’m gonna miss you. Like a lot.”

“Me too.” He admitted. “But it’s alright, we’re gonna see each other in a few weeks, and I’m gonna pick you up right here, yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, him smiling at your reply. He leaned in to give you one more kiss, your lips moving against his, letting out a sigh when you pulled away.

“Goodbye, love.” He told you, you smiling, giving him a wave as you began to walk over to the jet, him giving you a small wave back with a smile on his face.

His smile fell as he watched the jet leave, running another hand through his gelled hair, letting out a sigh as he thought about what he was going to do now.