#They did all those things! So the game is over.

[cosmictheo]

𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 | hwang in-ho

( gif credits to @lalaray )

—summary: for some reason, player 001 seems to like you a little too much, way more than you think. amongst the chaos after the mingle game, he gets closer to you. —pairing: hwang in-ho/young-il/player 001 x female!reader —word count: 4.5k —warnings: bro has a lot of names, +18, smut !!! (minors dni), most definitely ooc!in-ho, descriptions of the reader having female genitalia, some porn with some plot, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, slight voyeurism? (a guard outside the bathroom listening all the tea💀), sub in-ho!!!, obsessive, possessive behavior, mentions of stalking, slight manipulation, in-ho being a slut for the reader, they want each others bodies so bad, panic attack, blood, killing, yk usual squid game stuff.

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

The first thing you saw were Young-il's eyes, and then you sensed his hands resting on your shoulders, a subtle touch but one that struck your entire core, sending shivers up and down your spine, snapping you out of the trance of shock, drawing you back to reality and back to him.

“Hey, hey, shhh...” he spoke softly, leaning close to you, making all you focused on was him, his voice, his eyes, the way his lips uttered your name. Him, him, him...

“Young-il?” you breathed out, matching your respiration to his ever-calm one.

He nodded his head slightly, his fingers stroking your shoulders soothingly. “You're okay. You did so good. It's over now” his soft whispers felt like an anchor back to earth, anchors you were clinging to with all your might.

“I got you” he assured you, helping you to your feet again. It was only then that you noticed that you were still in the room set of the third game, there was only you and him left in the arena, and the multitude of bodies sprawled around the bloodstained floor, of course. Noticing your gaze drift to the dead people, his hand lifted to your chin, standing right in front of you to block your field of vision and reduce it to just him, his serene face and piercing eyes, “Just look at me, angel. Keep those pretty eyes on me, yeah?”

He delicately pleaded you, his thumb tracing patterns of grazing caresses on the skin of your chin, treating you as carefully as possible. 

And you complied, of course, succumbing to the gentle darkness contained within his eyes. Like a little lamb falling into the wolf's trap.

“There you are,” a little, honest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

A couple of guards were standing near you, watching you in silence and strangely, allowing Young-il to comfort and help you during your panic attack. The first one you had since you had arrived in the horrifying place, you hadn't cracked once, holding a tough and fearless armor.

“You are safe with me. Nothing will happen to you,” his other hand moved down from your shoulder through your arm, igniting a warm flush on your skin under the passage of his palm, all the way down to encounter yours, his fingers intertwining between yours. “I'll make sure of that, okay?”

You merely manage a trembling nod, holding his gaze. His reassuring, gentle demeanor was all you needed at that moment, in that strange place, full of strangers, he seemed to be the only familiar sight to you, the light among all the ruthless darkness. And his face, exuding concern, completely captured your heart.

Young-il offered you that one protector figure you always needed, that someone to rely on and trust even in your darkest moments.

“Come with me, please” one of the guards, the one with a square outlined on his mask, interrupted your moment, stepping up beside you, his gun pointed at the ground and not at either of you, thank goodness. His voice held a diplomatic, yet polite tone, glancing at the two of you. Young-il glanced at him with a scowl on his face, not too happy that the guard had popped onto the scene, apparently, his gaze went ice cold in the span of a millisecond, “Sir, miss, you need to go back to the main room with the other players.”

“The lady needs to freshen up a bit, could I accompany her to the bathrooms?” Young-il asked— no, rather, he actually��demanded of the armed guard, his demeanor shifting to an authoritative one, straightening up and looking at the masked man with imposing eyes.

The guard looked from Young-il to you and back to him, finally nodding his head just once after a few seconds of contemplation, looking at him too long, nearly as if he was considering Young-il's expression, “Of course. Come with me, please.”

You did not decide to comment on the strange behavior of the guard, even they had been acting like human beings, empathetic and considerate. You really couldn't think of anything much at all, all you could focus on was Young-il's hand placed on your lower back as you walked together through the winding, ridiculously colorful corridors and staircases inside the seemingly infinite building.

His touch had your mind a fuzzy blur and the panic and self-doubt in your veins had already been well forgotten, replaced by a state of constant flushing, feeling so small next to him. The feeling was a good one, though. Definitely.

Ever since you had met him he had seemed to have a special liking for you, always making sure you were safe and secure, putting you above the others, making you feel protected and seen. Before every game he made sure he stayed by your side, willing to take whatever risks were necessary for both of you to come out of it alive. Gi-hun had told you a couple of times that he liked you, much more than a friend, but you refused, huffing that it wasn't the place to think about that, much less regarding a man who was married, supposedly. The two of you had really bonded so well, as if you had somehow known each other for a very long time before this.

Once you were in the bathrooms, Young-il closed the door behind both of you, leaving the square guard just outside, and then guided you towards the sinks, opening one so you could take a sip of water.

“Let me...” he quietly whispered, rolling up the sleeves of his turquoise tracksuit and soaking his hands for a few seconds before raising them to your face, running his fingers gently across your cheekbones, removing traces of blood droplets that had been lucky enough to land on your skin, he thought to himself. For some reason, everything felt more intimate than it should have.

You stood in silence, watching him with big, attentive eyes as he wiped your face delicately, as if your skin were the finest porcelain. All that could be heard for a few moments was the water running from the sink and the thundering beat of your heart, desperate to flee out of your chest and leap into his.

“Young-il?”

“Hm?” he hummed, very much focused on cleaning your face, his countenance encouraged you to ask him anything you wanted, it was peaceful and gentle.

“Why do you care so much about me?” you dared to ask him, in a low tone, brave enough to hold his gaze, which softened at your question.

He held back his hands, pulling them away from your face very slowly, analyzing your flushed face for a few moments, contemplating an answer.

“You're special. Very different from the others.”

Young-il sympathized with you, with your history, your person. Usually when he looked at you, he saw his old self, from before all this. He saw in you the good side of things, your good heart, your innocence and kindness, you were much more than a pretty face. He could see past your usual gloomy and pouty face, past your sharp and too cunning eyes, you were too much for that place. And that's why he intended to take you out of there and keep you with him, to have you by his side to care for you and provide for you.

He was excited about the idea of getting to know you further, like a new game in which he had to crack his way through. And In-ho, he was good at games.

You blushed slightly, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “Special?”

Young-il spun around, allowing you to see his side profile as he washed his hands in the sink, concealing the impulse to smirk as he noticed the immediate effect his words had on you. He had you right where he wanted you. 

Now he wasn't wearing his usual dark mask, capable of covering his each and every emotion, no, now his expressions and gestures were for everyone to see, so he had to try a little harder than usual to be cautious. As you too were very careful and cautious, always attentive to your surroundings, you had figured out the objective of the last games as soon as you arrived at the arenas. It had been a record, no other player had been as interesting and quick-witted as you. You only needed a couple of minutes, a scan through the walls, the equipment brought by the guards, and you already had the answer. You were a prodigy. Not even he knew what you were doing in there to begin with, when you should have been in the best university.

You would definitely be a favorite of the filthy V.I.P.'s and that, for some reason, made him uneasy.

“Mhm...” he hummed once again, wetting his face now, refreshing himself as well, thoughtfully, “That makes you dangerous.”

His eyes held a slight playfulness as they met yours now, and his pupils expanded as he watched you step closer to him, unwrapping your sweatshirt from around your waist and lifting it up to his face, gently wiping and drying his skin with it, running the cloth carefully over his cheekbones, forehead and chin, drying every drop of water, sweat and blood that rolled across his skin.

“Why?” you tilted your head, big, interested eyes watching him intently as you carefully wiped his cheeks.

Young-il gazed at you for a few seconds, feeling himself swooning at the careful way you were treating him. He cleared his voice subtly before replying to you, in all honesty, “You're the only one I care about in here.”

Usually In-ho encountered with people who looked at him with fear, with trembling hands, hesitant voice and submissive manners. Most guards were like that with him, he was the Front Man after all. Just a movement of his fingers, a word emitted by his voice, was enough for the whole building to move at his command, for anyone to race to do what he ordered.

But you... you simply reached out to him, touched him, treated him with care, with gentleness and softness, looking at him with warm and sympathetic eyes.

“No other person makes me feel both weak and strong” he rasped out, quietly, his warm breath brushing against your lips, which gaped at his words, his choice of words, “That's dangerous for a man like me”

You motioned to pull your hand away from his face, but he was quick to grab your wrist, stopping the movement.

“Young-il, you're married, I can't—” you hurriedly opted to go the right way, trying to talk some sense into him, shaking your head softly, blinking several times within a single minute. Your heart was already starting to beat faster and he could feel it through his thumb placed on your pulse.

He shook his head, seeking your gaze, his fingers gently squeezing your wrist, not wanting you to move too far away from him.

“I'm not married. I lied” he revealed to you, almost desperately. There was no reason for him to lie to you on that, because he knew that you were someone he could trust, and that everything that was going to happen there, would remain within those walls. A little complicity. A minor crack in the script, in the whole scheme that he had been working on for weeks.

You let him grab your wrist and the jacket of the tracksuit you had previously held in your hand fell to the floor, making a muffled noise that echoed off the quiet walls of the bathrooms. Your brow furrowed slightly, not understanding what he was talking about now.

“You lied? Why?” you asked in a low tone, as if anyone could hear you. It seemed, at least it felt like too private and all too intimate a conversation for anyone to overhear.

“I didn't want to push you away and scare you with my... life resolutions” Young-il lowered your hand now joined with his, looking at you with brighter eyes than usual, “It was the wiser thing to do.”

“Resolutions?” all you appeared to be doing was asking and asking, and In-ho, right there and then, was willing to answer all you wanted to know. Your tone of voice drifted into playfulness, void of judgment or disgust, on the contrary, you reassured him, “All of us here have made bad choices in our lives, that's why we're here. We're all the villains of society”

“Villains...” he repeated, savoring the word and approving it with a gentle nod of his head. Then he tugged on your hand, lifting it to his face, placing an affectionate kiss on your knuckles, doing all of that while keeping eye contact, “But you're not bad, not like them, not like me. You're just so good, angel.” There was the petname again, and it held the exact same effect as when he first called you that, making you blush softly, your legs trembling just barely, your core reacting instantly, your body succumbing to his, longing for him.

His fingers caressed the palm of your hand tenderly, “You have no blood on your pretty hands, no perversity in your little head, no, you're a good girl. You always have been, right?”

He read you like an open book, even though you had been cautious and reserved since the games had begun, you had not let anyone in, much less pass over the walls you had built around yourself. Yet in the span of a few minutes, Young-il had ripped them apart, tearing his way through them, into you.

You caught a glimpse of pity in his eyes.

“You don't have a debt, you just don't have anyone out there waiting for you, to take care of you, provide for you” At his words, you gulped, watching him kiss your knuckles once again, making your heart race, then his lips kissed your pulse on your wrist, and after that, he tugged you closer, placing your palm against his chest, making you feel the beat of his heart as well, “I could be the one. I could take care of you, protect you, give you everything you want. There wouldn't be anything I wouldn't do for you and those eyes. You'd just have to stick by my side, look pretty for me, hm?”

In-ho had been watching you, of course, ever since you had met Gon Ji-cheol in the subway, ever since you had encountered Gi-hun. He knew your life completely, he had grown obsessed with you. You were everything he needed, everything he wanted, the missing piece in his new life. The anchor he desperately needed, yearned to hold on to.

And to your flesh he clung, his lips making a path of light, but tentative kisses on the back of your hand, across your skin, up your arm.

“Young-il...” you breathed out his name a bit stunned by the whole sudden confession. At the sound, he felt his limbs tremble, his lips had reached your bicep and it wasn't until he kissed your shoulder that he opened his eyes so he could look at you with raw adoration, his breath joining yours at the closeness.

“I'll get you out of here, safe and sound. I won't let them touch a hair on your head” he promised, reassuring you, pulling you in, inviting you to slip into his orbit, “I just need you to trust me”

Your eyelashes grazed your cheeks as you blinked slowly, your hand rising to his shoulder, thumb brushing his neck, “How will you do that?”

“Trust me” he pleaded, staring at you for a few seconds before leaning down into you, both of his hands landing on your waist, holding you against him, his face nestled into your neck, he began to press his lips into your skin, kissing it. You close your eyes in utter pleasure, feeling yourself getting all aroused, suffocated by all the attention, the sweet words, his desire for you. 

“Would you do that for me?” he rasped out against your skin before kissing it, sucking lightly, “...hm?”

You nodded, swallowing hard, his lips rapidly kissing your throat, and suddenly, everything was him, his mouth, his breath, his hands squeezing your waist. Him... 

You lifted your chin, allowing him more access to the soft flesh of your neck, seductive lips exploring every inch of your skin.

“Yes”

“That's my girl” he cooed with tenderness, kissing your neck one last time before pulling away from it so he could look at you, not even letting you breathe the air that had slipped out of your lungs for the entirety of his doing, before he was kissing your lips like a starving man.

He breathed against your lips in between frantic open-mouth kisses. He almost felt himself melt as his ears were blessed by the delightful little noises leaking out of your mouth, panting and low moans escalating up your throat.

“Young-il…” you whispered his name, your voice sheepishly lowering as you noticed the look in his eyes, your hands clasped around his neck, fingers trembling from the thrill and sudden shame that shook you.

“Jump” he said, his tone of voice heavy with command, his hands reaching around your waist and down onto your ass to lift you up effortlessly onto the side of the sinks, balancing himself tight against you in between your legs, which wrapped around his hips and pressed him further into you, under an instinctive impulse.

You panted against his lips as you felt his erection against the inside of your thigh, his body eagerly surrendering to yours in desperation.

His commanding voice and face were something that really turned you on even more, if that was even possible. It wasn't usual for him to be this stern with you, he was usually like that with the other players, with strangers, always cautious, quiet and tactful, meticulous of his every step and every word.

“W-wait— we're going to fuck in h-here?” you somehow managed to asked in between frantic, breathless kisses, barely opening your eyes, catching him with an expression of raw lust, pupils fully dilated now.

Young-il smirked playfully, allowing you to catch your breath for a moment, hands caressing your skin appreciatively beneath the fabric of your shirt, before dropping down and laying on either side of you against the sinks, veins bulging against his skin, “You want to do it in the other room? I don't mind having an audience.”

His little tease and the way he tilted his head made you blush furiously, fingers nuzzling the back of his neck, curling between locks of his hair.

“The guard will hear us...” you tried to talk some sense into him, whispering quietly to him, leaning your head even closer, as if you were little kids sharing a forbidden secret.

But Young-il stood his ground, kissing your lips shortly, to reassure you, noticing the worry in your big eyes, “Don't worry about him, don't worry about anyone,” his hand snaked between your bodies, spreading your legs a little further apart, “He won't hear a thing, they never hear or see anything. Not if they are ordered not to”

One of his hands reached up, stroking your hair soothingly, sensing the softness of your locks between his fingers. You were perfect, perfect. And he just knew he could lose all track of time, if it meant letting himself fall into you, touching you, feeling you, worshipping you.

"Lift your hips for me, yeah?”

Obedient, you lifted your hips just a little, letting him pull the hem of your tracksuit pants down your legs, taking it out of the way of obstructing his path into you.

“I know you want this as much as I do, you don't have to say it,” he cheekily smiled, looking up at you once he had lowered your pants down until they were at the level of your ankles. On his journey upwards, he kissed the side of your leg, your knees and your thighs without taking his eyes off yours, he was ruthless and you looked so pretty to him.

“Your body speaks to me, it has spoken to me since the first game. I've noticed the way you look at me. You are a naughty girl.”

You heaved a sigh, closing your eyes and pulling your head back as his hand dipped into the center in between your legs, feeling the wetness of your panties and the heat, your cunt pulsing around nothing. Your hands, now on either side of you clasped onto the ceramics of the sinks, your back arching beautifully.

You can't help the way your body trembles, flutters and simply submits when his finger rubs your swollen clit through your panties, feeling your face and your whole body flush, feeling a sudden wave of embarrassment at the magnitude of his words and the enormity of all that was happening.

“Look at you,” he cooed, eyes locked on your pussy once he had pulled down your panties with precise but desperate motions, ran his index and middle fingers through your slick folds, making you moan, “you're soaking wet for me, just for my kisses? Fuck, you are so beautiful. My pretty, dirty girl. Letting herself be touched by a stranger.... but then again, not a stranger at all, hm?” his voice almost sounded mocking when it reached your ears, “I need to taste you,” his gaze moved up to your face, and he looked nearly pleading, he licked his lips in anticipation, fingers sinking just barely into the small entrance of your core, “may I?”

“Please—” You at once nodded feverishly, almost whimpering over the words that rushed into your throat, “Yes! Please, Young-il, please—”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, slouching closer, sinking right between your legs, his hands lingered around your knees, squeezing them against him with a possessive hold.

“In-ho” he corrected you, flushed against the skin of your inner thigh, pressing kisses along it, all too drunk already by your intoxicating scent, his mind going fuzzy with desire, the urge to make you his, “Call me In-ho”

You didn't even pause to doubt what he was telling you, Hell, you'd call him God if he asked you to. You were in the palm of his hand, on full display. His lips kissed your sex and you mentally thanked fate for putting you there, with him.

“Say it” he ordered, just before he plunged his tongue deep between your folds, knocking all the little breath left in your lungs. “Say my name, angel” the vibration of his voice against the most sensitive flesh of your body clenched the knot deep in the bottom of your belly.

“In-ho” you named him between shaky whimpers and little moans, like a prayer. One of your hands dropped to his head, fingers sinking into the black of his hair, tugging it and making him hiss against your cunt. “In-ho...”

In-ho, In-ho, In-ho...

“Good girl”

God.

He ate your pussy like it was his very last meal, lapping and drinking in everything you had to offer, every bit of wetness from you. The slurping noise burst through every wall of the bathrooms and suddenly, you didn't give a shit if the guard outside heard you, you didn't give a shit if all the guards heard you. 

They could be right there watching you, you couldn't care less, it wouldn't change the way you tugged at his hair, how your eyes rolled back and the way he was gazing up at you from below, kneeling perfectly between your legs as if they were the gates to heaven.

His tongue seemed familiar, his fingers squeezing your thighs, his eyes locked with yours, his lips kissing your sex with no breath, all the breath he needed was you. He didn't feel like a stranger, your body acquainted him, perhaps in another life. It all felt like deja vu, a reminiscence.

Your muscles tensed and he felt it through his tongue. You were about to cum, and your throat felt scratchy from all the moans and whimpers rasping through it.

“Gonna cum, baby?” he coaxed, pulling away from your cunt for just a couple of seconds, sneaking a hand in and pressing just barely at your entrance with a couple of fingers, kissing your clit and sucking it just right, “Yes you are,” he grumbled endearingly, his tongue tracing caresses all around your clit now, looking up at you.

“You're so tight” he marveled, watching in awe as your cunt eagerly attempted to suck in his fingertips, clenching and struggling to fit them. “Look at her, so eager... such a good girl, aren't you?” Once again he leaned into your clit, kissing, sucking and caressing it with his tongue, already too pussy drunk to stop. “Cum for me. Cum on my tongue, yeah, just like that”

“Holy shit, In-ho—” you hiccupped, feeling tears blur your vision, a wave of pleasure unleashing from deep in your belly. You moaned his name like a prayer, pressing his head closer to your cunt on an instinctive impulse, “Mmph!”

Maybe it was seeing his chin and mouth all dripping wet of you, or his dark, deep eyes marveling at how your pussy squeezed tight around his fingers, or his other hand sliding up under your shirt, finding one of your breasts and flicking your nipple. Maybe it was all of it, either way, you were cumming like you had never cum before. Your whole body was shaking and succumbing to the overstimulation. Succumbing to him.

In-ho gulped down everything you gave him like magic waters.

“You taste better than I imagined,” he confided, licking his index and middle finger as well, catching every trace there was of you that he could possibly consume as if it were honey.

Then, he kissed your pussy once more before standing up, sending shockwaves of electricity through your whole body with his touch, his hands settled on your hips, holding you so you wouldn't fall.

And he just smirked. He moved closer to you and kissed your mouth, making you savor your own taste through him, his hands appreciatively caressing your thighs, swiftly pulling up your panties back on.

“You're perfect, perfect,” he smoothed against your lips, his forehead leaning close to yours and he kissed you again, praising you, holding you tight in the afterglow of your orgasm, “My girl, my favorite girl, so good for me"

“We need to get back before someone starts to get suspicious,” he mumbled softly, helping you to your feet and pulling up your pants, always holding you with his hands and strong arms.

“B-but,” you retorted, your hands gripping his shoulders, still feeling your legs a little wobbly and unsteady, your dilated pupils and half-closed eyes following him as he arranged you, “I want to-”

He interrupted you, grinning warmly, stroking a lock of your hair away from your forehead before kissing your lips once more, as if closing a deal, a promise, “There will be time. Be patient, princess. We don't want the others to find out about my favoritism, do we?” seeing you still looking a bit confused, and still denying with your head, In-ho smiled playfully, “That would be very unprofessional of me, so this will be our secret”

This time you kissed him, sealing the secret.

[bruhstories]

Bet III

p.1 here & p.2 here

summary: the game is on, but in-ho can't focus on it. he's got you on his mind pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, mentions of domestic violence, veeeery slow burn, reader is an orphan, slight voyeurism, people dying ayy yo (but if you watched squid game, this is just normal) w/c: 2.2k

a/n: if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post! thank you for reading! also feel free to replace y/n's age, i just needed to put a number there lol

In-ho removed the intricately designed mask from his face and poured himself a glass of whisky, one leg crossed over the other as he sat on the leather sofa of the control room. The first game was about to begin soon — always Red Light, Green Light — and he waited for his favourite song to start — always Fly Me To The Moon. There was something so hauntingly beautiful about listening to a love song while people lost all hope, one by one falling to the ground.

It was a fantastic way to get rid of the weakest links, leaving only those resilient alive. Player 101, eliminated. Player 82, eliminated. Player 329, eliminated. Player 2, eliminated. They dropped like flies, frantically clawing at the gates in a futile attempt to escape while the soldiers shot them from above, painting the ground crimson.

Exhilarating was the only word that could describe what In-ho felt in that moment, and nothing compared to it. When happiness died along with his wife, control was the only thing that fulfilled him. He controlled who died and who lived, but he was also being fair — if participants played by the rules, they survived. It couldn’t get any simpler than that.

Obviously, they didn't have a choice, and In-ho knew that well enough. No, players only had the illusion of choice, but that mirage was what kept them in the game. Besides, they chose to come to the island. They chose to gamble their lives. They chose to be greedy. If anything, the games taught them, albeit for a short time, that actions had consequences, and In-ho was their judge, jury and executioner. It was truly thrilling. Exciting. Exhilarating.

His phone lit up with a notification from the security cameras concealed in his house. Irked by the sudden disturbance, he opened the app to check the footage. You weren't supposed to be there at that time, because you had already been at his house in the morning. In-ho watched you lock the door behind you, thinking today was the day you stole from him and proved him right.  He scoffed, hoping you would last longer than one day, but to his surprise, you sat on the kitchen floor, knees to your chest, crying. 

He couldn't send you a text — it would have made it obvious that he knew you were there, and his eyes lingered on his phone, forgetting about the game in front of him for a moment. In-ho watched you take out your phone and type, and not a minute later he received a text.

Good morning again! I had a bit of free time after my second job today and came to check on Eunjoo. I'll be leaving in an hour for my other job and I'm not charging for the extra visit.

In-ho stared at the big screen, completely dumbfounded and ignorant to the people dying right before his eyes. How were you working that many jobs? That was, if you were even telling the truth. But he would find out soon, because he left a stack of 2 million won on his nightstand, eagerly waiting for you to take it. You had to take it. You had to be the same as everyone else.

That's absolutely fine. If you don't mind me asking, how many jobs are you working?

He swapped back to the security cameras and watched you wipe the tears off your face with the back of your hand, smiling at his text. Did he say something funny? Why on Earth would you be smiling when a minute ago you had tears rolling down your cheeks?

Officially two, unofficially three. I teach Korean to a family of immigrants, but that's unpaid. I think of it as volunteering. They do feed me, though! My other job is a mascot at Lotte World.

In-ho shattered the empty glass in his hand while reading your text, and winced when he felt blood seeping from a fresh cut. Why, just why did you have to prove him wrong? He watched you go into his bedroom with a pile of freshly clean and dried shirts, ignoring the money. You saw the stack, he noticed you staring at it, hoping you grabbed it, but you found his ironing board and began to iron his shirts, not sparing the money another glance.

Why?

Through the camera, he saw you text back.

Why what?

"Tsk." In-ho scoffed at your question while wrapping a bandage around his palm.

Why are you working that many jobs?

Ah. My uncle has debts. Unfortunately, I had to drop out from uni to help him pay for them. It's fine though, I like what I'm doing. 

How old are you?

23.

Jesus Christ, you were so young, yet life had been unfair to you. You deserved an education, a better life, and it cemented his ideal that the world needed to rid itself of the trash. He didn't know the full details, but he was sure to find out. You were unlike anyone he's met before. At least for now, at least until you proved him right.

Ding!

In-ho opened a picture from you — Eunjoo curling up on the left side of his bed, paws under her, looking like a loaf of bread, and the question 'Is that your side of the bed?' under it.

Indeed it is. 

I knew it! Aww, she misses you :( 

How strange it was to read those words. How strange it was to think about someone, or something missing him. To In-ho that was a foreign feeling, and he loosened his tie, swallowing the lump in his throat. He'd seen Eunjoo sleep on his side of the bed before, when he was gone, but he assumed it was just comfortable for her. 

Animals truly were better than humans. If they betrayed their owners, they did it out of necessity. When humans betrayed, it was by choice. 

In-ho watched you neatly adjust his ironed shirt on a coat hanger that you hung in his wardrobe, disregarding the Red Light, Green Light game that had long finished, and it hit him like a train that you reminded him of his wife. God, you were so much like his wife it infuriated him, because no one was allowed to take that place in his heart. No one was allowed to make him feel anything other than hatred.

You had to make a mistake, to prove to him that you were just like everybody else, and if money didn't make you crack, something else would. In-ho made it his purpose to unravel your darkest secrets, whether through manipulation or sheer force, but the distance between the two of you proved a greater obstacle than he thought. 

He watched you finish ironing his clothes, watched you refill Eunjoo's water bowl, watched you comb your hair and put lip balm on while staring into his mirror, and it felt so wrong to study all your quirks and habits without you even knowing. It was the closest thing to having a normal life. But nothing about what he was doing was normal. Especially not watching you be so oblivious to his true self.

With a sigh, In-ho adjusted his mask left the control room to instruct his subordinates, the square-masked guards, to prepare  for the next game, Neolttwigi, the soldiers to take the remaining players back to their beds, and the workers to remove the corpses. 188 players survived and more than 50% were eliminated. In-ho, in his Front Man persona, should've focused on the games, but he couldn't, for some unknown reason, shake off the image of you crying on his kitchen floor. He didn’t dare ask what happened. How could he? It would destroy all the secrecy.

It wasn't that he cared about you — he didn't. You appeared to be a positive, cheerful and talkative person, so whatever hurt your feelings must have been important. Was it your uncle? Your boyfriend? He scoffed at that thought. The mere idea of some guy breaking your heart made him irrationally angry, and In-ho was lucky that his mask concealed his frustration. 

He decided to pay the remaining players a visit, accompanied by eight armed guards, and, just like last year, and the year before, and the year before that, there was always a woman who dropped to her knees, begging to be spared and allowed to go home. Another one followed, and even men asked for forgiveness, but they just couldn't get it through their thick skulls that they chose to be there. They chose to gamble their lives away, they chose to borrow money and end up with debts they could never afford to repay. No one forced them to play the games.

When the room was filled with echoing cries and hysterical sobs, In-ho fired a single shot in the air, shutting everyone up. They all looked at him with fear in their eyes like pigs in a slaughterhouse waiting to be gutted, and he lowered the gun, standing firm on his feet.

"You must be mistaken. You are not here to be punished, you are all here because of the choices you made." In-ho simply said, his voice distorted by the mask. 

He took notice of teams already being formed, of those who were willing to step on corpses just to get the big prize and those who would rather sacrifice themselves, because there were always people who wanted to play the hero. He studied them all before they got recruited, and knew 456 secrets, 456 names, 456 lives. Well, only 188 survived.

"We came here to win money, not to fucking die!" Player 072 shouted from the back of the room. "And if I'm correct, we can vote to go back home."

Ah, yet another one who thought they could outsmart In-ho. He's been there before. He walked that path before, and it taught him that people don't change. Ever. Even if they voted to leave, they always came back.

"Of course, clause three of the consent form. If the majority decides to go home, you are free to do so. We don't hold anyone against their will." In-ho nodded. "But before you make your choice, allow me to tell you the current accumulated prize."

He pressed a button on a small, black remote and a large glass piggy bank was lowered from the ceiling as the lights in the room dimmed down. Stacks upon stacks of money piled up in the piggy bank, and the screen counted the current prize — 26.8 billion won. In-ho watched how their faces lit up at the amount of money accumulated, but also how the penny dropped for most of them — the more people died, the more money the survivors got.

"If you choose to leave, the money will be distributed amongst the deceased players' families. It’s only fair." He said, and left the room so that the soldiers could prepare for the democratic vote.

"You're manipulating us!" In-ho heard a player shout, and maybe he did. Maybe he was chipping away at their humanity to bring out the worst in them, but it was for the best. At least by dying they served a purpose.

It was no surprise that the majority voted to stay, 95 to 93. Good — he didn't have to go through the trouble of sending them home. The soldiers and workers brought food for the players, and In-ho checked his phone in the safety of his room. There was no text from you, and it was almost time for you to check on Eunjoo, but when it hit 9 and you weren't in his house, he felt a knot in his stomach, an uneasy feeling. Was he worried? Of course he was, for his cat, not for you.

Ding!

The sound of his phone caught him off guard, almost startling him, almost making him feel relieved when he saw it was you, and In-ho read the text.

Evening! Traffic was baaad this evening but I'm nearly at the penthouse. Will Eunjoo ever forgive me? :( 

The stupid sad face you sent made the image of you pouting pop up in his head and he wondered why. There wasn't a good enough reason for you to be haunting him like a phantom. You were a nobody to him.

Eunjoo might, but I won't.

In-ho immediately regretted pressing send. It was unprofessional and stupid of him to text such a reply, because you weren't friends. He had no friends. 

I'm so sorry, but I promise I'll make it up to you, Mr. Hwang! I really need to get you a gift for letting me use your shower anyway.

A relieved sigh escaped his lips when you didn't take his message the wrong way, but part of him was hoping you would try to flirt with him, seduce him, do anything to prove him right. And yet again, you remained true to yourself.

He watched you on the cameras again, how you invaded his home, his life, how you fed Eunjoo and munched on prawn crackers again, disappointed that you, for the second day in a row, refused to use anything in his house for yourself except for the shower and the TV.

There was still time to win the bet, and he never lost.

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn @hobiesbrownsgf @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol @mariiestfu @ratsnestinmyhair @missroro @talia-the-gemini @fortluocha @true-queen-of-mischief @ssa-callahan @bibliophile-yomna @wwastro @heartsforseo @marymun @glads-stuff @starryeddie @kisses2kanao @gagaga167 @l4venderia @scryi @lelisae @twicelover2 @ashtrosstuff @cruel-affair @cdej6 @veragrhm

please keep in mind that if i didn't tag you it's because i either missed it, or i couldn't find your age on your blog. there will be smut.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Voice of Treason

1,7k. words | f! (player 222) Reader | angst | yandere behavior | pregnancy | mentions of death | not proofread

Squid Game S2 Spoilers ahead!

A/N: just a lil' drabble written on my phone, but this man got a chokehold on me so I needed to get it out of my system

A bloodcurling scream echoed through the hallways as you witness player 390's lifeless body drop to the ground.

You didn't even know his real name.

Both you and 456 had been forced on your knees, wailing on the ground as you mourned the death of your allies, well aware your own demise was imminent.

This whole ordeal was futile from the start, but you had decided that you'd follow this reckless fool to the grave rather than dying for the sick entertainment of a rich elite without even putting up a fight.

"Where is 001? What did you do to him, you bastard?!"

In-ho's face dropped behind the angular plastic of his mask, taken aback by your worry for him despite of your own hopeless situation. "Why do you care?" the distorted voice spoke callous despite his inner turmoil. "The man you got to know is long dead."

You collapse at this revelation and you let out heartbroken sobs, hugging your belly as if to cling to the last thing that kept you from spiraling into despair.

Gi-hun observed your interaction with great pity. It was understandable to develop feelings for another while trapped in such an insane life-and-death situation, especially since 001 had been especially protective of you due to your circumstance.

But player 456 that has become a mentor towards you had warned you several times to not give in to this irrational sentiment, reminding you that the man you fell for had an expecting wife waiting for him back home.

"Take them away" he orders his henchmen, withdrawing the gun before tearing his eyes away from you. "The game needs to continue."

"Take him" the man dressed in all-black ordered his henchmen, gesturing towards player 001 before busying himself with you again. "The game needs to continue."

Gi-hun's pleads to spare you if not for the unborn child's sake went on deaf ears as a bag was put over his head and he was dragged away.

The Frontman lifted his gun again, the shaking of his hand barely noticeable as the barrel stroke almost gently across your cheek, a black trail of gunpowder trailing his movement. With one swift movement he put it underneath your chin, forcing you to look up to him one final time.

In a last act of resistance you spat at the man's feet, your relentless glare imbued with hatred as it bore into his skull. "You're a monster!"

"I know."

And yet he couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger.

While you assumed sadistic glee as his motivator, In-ho was shocked with himself, caught in a labyrinth of his own mind. After a while of letting those conflicting emotions ravage his heart, he withdrew his weapon, signalizing the guard behind you to knock you out before sending a bullet straight to his head.

What he plans to do cannot allow any witnesses, even among his own ranks.

*~´*~´*~´*

God knows how much time had passed since then, but when you finally regained consciousness, only one question was burning urgently:

Why are you still alive?

You jolted up in a rush of adrenaline, scanning the unfamiliar room you were brought to. The interior was almost completely dipped in pitch black, even the furniture was no exception.

A new game, maybe?

Eventually your eyes caught the silhouette lurking in a corner of the room, leaned over in a huge armchair. That damned mask of his did nothing to hide the piercing glare you could feel underneath.

Feeling your rapid breaths and how your body started to tremble uncontrollably, panic threatened to consume your every sense.

Your mind was invaded with countless horrid scenarios to why a deranged man like him would take you back to - as it appeared - his private bedchamber.

The sheer sight of him was a nightmare, but seeing him approaching you with firm, deliberate steps shook you to the core. He pries off one of his gloves, laying them on the nightstand besides you with his whole demeanour perfectly composed.

A violent tremor jolts through your body as he reached out for you, however he merely places his hand onto your belly, unable to hold back a muffled gasp as he feels it kick beneath his palm.

"I had a doctor check on you while you were unconscious" he disclosed as if it was some sort of generous act. "The baby is perfectly fine. A little fighter, like it's mother."

It was meant to be a placating gesture but it had the complete opposite effect on you, not daring to guess the reason for his sudden interest.

Your face contorts in disgust and you shuffle away from his touch, pulling your knees to your chest and wrap the blanket over your belly, as if to shield it from this homicidal maniac. "Why- What do you want from me, you fucking lunatic?!"

There was a while of strained silence between your question and his answer.

"I told you to stay back, you foolish girl" he sighed, striping the hood from his head but his hand hesitated on the buckle of his mask. "But you insisted on joining this pathetic revolt."

The moment he unveiled his face your world scattered for the second time today, as you were confronted with the face of a dead man - at least the one you had mourned and wept for just shortly before.

Oh just seconds ago your greatest wish was to be able to see him one last time, to confess the things you had preserved until it felt like you'd burst with that secret admiration for him.

Right now however it was like staring straight into the abyss.

He forced his lips into a crooked bow, that fake excuse of a smile you had always thought to be remnant of the hardships he had to endure. But now you saw it - or rather him - for what it truly was.

This couldn't be real. It mustn't be real.

You replayed those words in your head over and over again, but they morphed into a nonsensical jumble, blurring with the overwhelming torment of confusion and betrayal.

He gazed at you with bated breath as he awaited your reaction, desperate to find any hint, at least a glimmer of affection in your features.

"Young-il?" you stammered with a meek, broken voice that buried him underneath a wave of shame he wasn't aware he could still feel.

He shakes his head. "No. My real name is Hwang In-ho...I'm sorry."

You knew the whole time, didnt you?

Something about him was off from the very start. The way he carried himself seemed to robotic, as if he was merely playing a role. Deep down you had always wondered about how his story never fully added up, so many times you ignored any suspicious behavior of his out of some twisted dependency.

And ever since you personally witnessed how he snapped the other contestant's neck without any remorse you had a plaqueing feeling that he wasn't who he claimed to be.

There was a wordless aggreement to keep quiet about this particular incident, due to your egoistical necessity of his protection.

That's when it dawned on you - he had already pulled you down to his level, made you his accomplice through your silence. And even now, all this time not even a single thought about the fate of your comrades had crossed your mind until now.

He only barely outranks you in selfish cruelty.

"Was-" you choke on a sob, feeling his thumb tenderly wipe away your tears just to be replaced with new ones. "Was it all a lie?"

"Not everything." In-ho spoke with a hint of melancholy in his bearing. "I did have an ill wife, back when I first participated. You remind me of her a lot actually...strong-willed and yet gentle." There was an undeniable reverence in his tone and the way his hand was still gracing your cheek. "I participated and won just for her...but when I returned, she was already gone."

You were torn between the seething anger and an irrational urge to comfort this grief-strickened man, in your shock the severity of his words not leaving you unscathed. "That- that still doesn't excuse a single one of your actions!" Refusing to give in you spat venom at him either way, reminding yourself the aching of your heart should be nothing but newfound hatred for the man.

"I'm aware" The Frontman neither aggrees nor denies your accusations, as it doesnt't matter to him at all. His voice is unbearably cold, the softness of his in it you were used to now replaced by a sharp edge. "I don't expect anything...no understanding or even acceptance. But i cant- won't let you go."

You could see it in his eyes that his stoic facade was crumbling, he was teetering on the brink of a bottomless pit, begging for a lifeline, needing for your presence to save him from the darkness within.

"I wanted to help you become the winner." In-ho takes a hold of your hands, squeezing them ever so slightly in the naive hope to convince you of his pure intentions. "That wasn't my plan initially, but I decided to risk it all to keep you safe. I swear I will protect you and our child, no matter what."

Our child. Such a small word yet such a huge impact. The implication sent a shiver down your spine, understanding it was like swallowing shards of glass.

In-Ho leans his forehead against yours, his own eyes glistening with usnhed tears. "You're my redemption, my salvation..." He trails off, suddenly grabbing the back of your neck, pulling your lips to crash over his. It was a searing kiss, one that demanded surrender, that commanded obedience, a vow to keep you at his side whether you want it or not.

You writhe against his hold as he cradles you in his arms, but his embrace is like a steel vice, suffocating and unyielding just as his love.

"I couldn't save her..." he rasps in a hoarse whisper, every syllable laced with utter determination. "Allow me to at least save you."

[meglosthegreat]

I see a lot of posts on here talking about the Solas/Elgar'nan segment in Blood of Arlathan and how it's one of the best scenes in the game, and they'd be right, but I don't see enough people talking about how comically the whole thing is undercut by quite possibly the most poorly-conceived, terribly-implemented looney-tunes-ass sequence in gaming history that surrounds it.

Like you show up with your friends to this Venatori party, and you're like great, we're sneaking in! Time for disguises. How convenient that these Venatori guys all wear hoods, right? Should be a piece of cake if we're all, you know, wearing hoods that would helpfully hide our identities. But no. We all go waltzing in with our whole-ass faces exposed, you know, the group of guys that have been murdering Venatori left and right and who Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain have definitely all seen in person before. Oh, and don't worry about walking into this notoriously racist elf-sacrificing cult if you happen to be an elf! You're only here in disguise so that you can rescue a GROUP OF ELVES THEY'RE GOING TO SACRIFICE but it's ok because you're dressed as a mercenary and not a dalish so it's all good don't worry about it :) :)

Then you get into this fucking party and oh my fucking god it's like they decided to take all of the most comically over-the-top stereotypes of villainy and put them on display. Because why not! The Venatori are all sickos anyway so of course they'd be out here doing sicko things! There's some guys pulling a halla apart with blood magic! There's other guys using slaves as benches! They're all laughing and joking about how EVIL they are, hahaha, how cool is that? The fucking guy from D'Meta's Crossing is here if you don't let him die, because he's a fucked up evil sicko too! You're supposed to be shocked at this hideous display; recoil in horror, even!

And who do you bring with you to help get through this crowd of absolute lunatics? NEVE FUCKING GALLUS. You know, the person so well-known in Minrathous that a Dalish elf living in Arlathan KNEW HER BY REPUTATION. Yup, Neve Gallus with her INTENSELY RECOGNIZABLE PROSTHETIC just waltzes up to some guy and he just lets her in. Because being EVIL also makes you incapable of coherent thought, apparently.

And then. AND THEN. You walk across the bridge where Elgar'nan makes his thought-sounds at you, and YOUR ENTIRE FUCKING PARTY is already there, just hanging out nbd. Also not wearing hoods or any kind of disguises that couldn't instantly be seen through by a five-year-old with amnesia but ok, cool. Why did we bother walking through all those sickos then when we could've just taken the secret back entrance like the rest of them, idk.

But just when you think you've reached peak stupidity, it keeps going. You're now standing there, at the front of a crowd of about twelve people, approximately five feet away from Elgar'nan himself, inexplicably blending in, when the big guy puts the mind control whammy on everyone. Oh no, you think. We've been found out! Here's the part in the plan where things begin to go wrong! NO. Your mage friends SECRETLY PERFORM MAGICAL GESTURES to block the mind control, and then you LITERALLY FUCKING SIDLE OFF STAGE LEFT without ANYONE NOTICING. I should reiterate that at this point, you are still about FIVE FEET AWAY FROM ELGAR'NAN and his fucking ARCHDEMON.

And to conclude this absolute comedy of idiocy, as soon as you enter back into combat mode, you immediately ditch all of your disguises. And of course then, ONLY THEN, Elgar'nan notices you've been there. Cut to the end of the actual good sequence, this dramatic conversation performed by excellent voice actors and written miles better than most other things in this game, and you reach your final prize: about six guys trapped in a little cube. Cool, you tell yourself. This was definitely worth it. You take your fade-to-black teleporter back to the Lighthouse and they're never heard from again.

This was the quest that broke me. This was the moment that all hope for Veilguard finally snapped. I consider myself to be a very resilient person in the face of camp and goofy writing, but this was too much disbelief for my brain to suspend. The mental gymnastics necessary to make this whole sequence make any kind of sense were simply beyond me. Even Solas's dulcet tones could not salvage it for me after that.

[cybrasigilism]

I would die if you wrote an nsfw fic about Namgyu x reader 😭😭😭 like what if he’s your toxic ex or you guys just hate each other and it grows into an attraction… I love your writing so much btw!!

IFHY (Player 124/Nam-gyu x Reader)

warnings: smut of course, i mean have you seen my page? | not proofread | lowercase intended | unknown identities | nam-gyu’s a dick | unprotected sex (the pullout method is not reliable ladies and gentlemen) | fingering | degradation | rough sex | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinions for the character are different from yours

character: nam-gyu (player 124)

A/N: there needs to be a larger selection of GIFs for 124 man, i can’t find any ones of him NOT being in the background its unfortunate. hope y’all enjoy as always, i found this one sort of challenging to write, it’s definitely out of my comfort zone but i still had fun!

MDNI! 18+ content under the cut, readers discretion is advised

• ─────────────── •

toleration.

that was the one thing keeping you going in these new, uncertain circumstances of yours. as long as you laid low, didn’t complain, and simply tolerated your new life then maybe, things wouldn’t be so bad.

that seems easy, except for the fact that there was one thing, rather one person, you just could not tolerate. and that was player 124.

sure, the crowd he stuck to was overall quite obnoxious, but for some reason 124 in particular really got under your skin. first off, you didn’t like how he and his purple-haired crackhead friend would always pick on that player 333. sure, he may have scammed lots of people out of their money, but surely those idiots had bigger things to focus on over being petty nuisances.

secondly? the way he would stare at you with such hate for no good reason. you assumed it was probably due to the fact that you constantly voted X, even though you both knew it didn’t make much of a difference. it didn’t bother you that he hated you, seeing as the feeling was more than mutual, but you just wish he would focus his stare somewhere else.

and lastly, every single thing about him and his mannerisms just pissed. you. off. his whole smug demeanour really made you want to land a punch square between his eyes, but you figured he might actually be into that since he clearly had a death wish, seeing as how he always picked the O side of the vote. you were convinced that had it not been for his tweaker of a leader, he would have died a long time ago. to be honest, you wished he had.

that’s why, when he grabbed you by the sleeve and yanked you into a room for the mingle game, you were completely stunned. you would have figured 124 would have left you for dead, hell, you would have expected him to purposely knock you to the ground. maybe it was the adrenaline that made him grab you, maybe it was that he actually… wanted to save you? no, couldn’t have been.

unless..?

“what the hell did you do that for?” you asked, out of breath. he furrowed his brows, looking down on you with that usual stare. “well?” you continued, louder this time. he let out a chuckle before taking a glance out at all the unlucky players who couldn’t find groups.

“what’s so funny?” you questioned, steadying yourself against the wall. he looked back at you, with that shit eating smirk that you hated so much. “i just didn’t realize that you wanted to die that badly.” his response took you aback, a sour expression appearing on your face.

“oh, i suppose i should thank you for yanking me by the arm like that then?” you huffed, rolling your shoulder as you adjusted your sleeve. he approached you, and you suddenly felt the urge to swallow the saliva you just became alarmingly aware of. “you don’t have to thank me now..” he started, looking you up and down in such a way that made your cheeks grow warmer. “you can just pay me back later.”

just then, the doors unlocked, and player 124 was more than happy to swing it open and head back to his little group, not without looking back at you with a sly wink. you stayed stood in the room for a brief moment, still leaned against the wall, trying to process why your cheeks felt so hot all of a sudden.

oh god, you weren’t… catching feelings for 124, were you?

———

it was lights out when you started thinking about your guys’s brief mingle room interaction. you still couldn’t wrap your mind around what you were feeling, but now you found yourself squeezing your legs together as you thought more and more about player 124. you couldn’t believe this, you didn’t even know this assholes name, and now he’s got you all hot and bothered like this?

you knew what you had to do, and you were not proud of it.

after about 5 solid minutes of convincing the circle-masked guard to allow you access to the bathroom, you quickly secured yourself in a stall. “i can’t believe i’m actually doing this right now.” was all you could think as you pulled your pants around your knees, along with your underwear, and slid your hand between your thighs. you had hoped no one could hear as you began to moan softly, just as your thoughts spiralled about player 124, and the tension between you two in the little mingle room; how much you wished he would have taken you right there, inside that cramped space. you felt yourself approaching the edge when you heard something that made your heart stop.

his voice. his voice?

something inside you prayed to god that somehow your imagination had just been that good, but you heard him again, calling out your number from just beyond the stall door. you were too petrified to say, think, even do anything. but of course, he pulled the door open and there you were, hand between your thighs with the single most horrified expression painted on your face.

“wow, couldn’t even wait for me, huh?” he mocked, his gaze fixated between your legs. “what the fuck are you looking at, pervert?!” you whisper-shouted, so as to not alert the guards. he laughed, and you don’t know how or why but that did something to you, as if your fingers currently on your clit were helping matters at all.

“pervert? i’d say you’re the perverse one, seeing how you were just jacking off in the public bathrooms. are you that much of a slut that you can’t keep your hands outta your pants for more than a night?” his degrading was not easing things, matter of fact it was only turning you on, and you were sure he knew that. you started to pull your hand away, and he shut the two of you inside the confined stall.

“what do you think you’re doing?” 124 asked, now on his knees so you had to meet his gaze. “i was just-“ you started, before being quickly interrupted by him grabbing your now exposed hand. “stopping?” he finished your sentence for you, cocking his head to the side with the same wide eyed faux-curious expression you’re sure you’ve seen him give others in the games. “don’t you dare stop on my account.” you tried to avoid eye contact, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “i can’t do it.. not in front of you.” your response felt totally out of character for yourself, and 124 totally called bullshit then and there. “fine, then i guess i’ll just have to help you then won’t i?” his boldness shouldn’t have shocked you, and you don’t think it did. you barely had tome to wrap your head around the fact that he now had slithered his own hand between your legs before-

“oh my god.” was drawn from your lips as he slid his fingers up your slick folds, brushing against your clit as he rubbed up at down your pussy. “holy shit, i’ve hardly done anything and you’re already soaked.” he exclaimed smuggly, earning an attempted glare from you. “oh please, don’t take all the credit.” you scoffed, using every bit of willpower you could muster to ensure you didn’t moan, god forbid. “i think i can,” he chuckled, continuing what would be the beginning of his assault on your nerves, “seeing as you know you got this fucking wet thinking of me.” when you least expected it, he pushed not one, but two fingers into your cunt. at this point you saw stars, feeling yourself clench around him so soon you felt as though you should be ashamed of yourself, but you didn’t care.

“shit, already so tight for me, huh?” you could tell through 124’s tone than he was totally turned on by this, by how horny he made you. “if i had known you’d be this easy, i would have done this a while ago.” normally you would be completely offended by his words, but when he started circling your clit with his thumb you really couldn’t bring yourself to mind at all. “p-please…i need to..” you could barely get your words out through your moans, you wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t understand you. “need ta’ cum, so bad-“

“oh yeah? you need it?” he taunted, only increasing his pace as he pumped his fingers knuckle-deep inside your throbbing pussy. “i don’t think you’ve earned it yet.” he stopped suddenly. you cried out at the abrupt loss of friction as he released his fingers from your firm grip. he took in the sight of how desperate you were as he lowered his pants, ordering you to free up your seat, to which you were shocked you could even stand at this point. “if you need to cum so bad, why don’t you show me that you deserve it.” he grabbed your arm and pulled you over to him. you couldn’t process what situation you were in just now. one minute you were convinced you hated the guy, and now your pussy was inches away from his dick? you can’t say you minded your predicament, you were just terribly shocked.

“why the hesitation? didn’t you say you needed to cum?” the return of the mocking tone was not lost on you, and you could feel yourself begin to shake. not out of fear, but out of pure anticipation. “i’m sorry, i just…” you began, before he grabbed you hips and pulled you down onto his lap, the both of you gasping at the abrupt feeling of pure ecstasy. “holy shit!” you cried out, gripping onto the walls of the stall as 124 began to bounce you on his cock. it’s almost as though he was setting the pace for what he wanted you to do, and you quickly caught on, sliding up and down his dick as his grip on your hips hardened.

“god you’re such a pathetic little whore,” he said through gritted teeth, slapping your ass while you rode him, earning a hearty moan from your lips. “oh, yeah? you like getting slapped like the little cockslut you are?” “y-es! oh fuck, oh fuck.” it was as if you were in a trance, telling him anything he wanted to hear. “yeah? imma need to hear you say it.” he teased, you could still feel him controlling your every move through the grasp he had on your hips. you tell him exactly what he wants. “i..i’m your..” you moan senselessly “your little cockslut-“

“fuck yeah, at least you know what you’re good for..” his words started to get a bit unsteady, maybe it was because of how tight you were clenching on him. “oh shit, are you close already?” he gasped, to which you responded something unintelligible. “fuck, i can barely understand you, babbling like a needy little whore.” you couldn’t take it, the way he made you feel was immeasurable to anything you’ve ever experienced. all you wanted in that moment was player 124, you never wanted him to stop pounding up into you with such tenacity.

with one final squeeze of your cunt, he held your hips down and a hot feeling quickly filled your insides. a slew of profanities were expelled from his lips and you felt your whole body shake. as soon as your breathing both steadied, he motioned you to get off his lap and he pulled his pants back up. you, however, could not possibly muster yourself to stand up at the moment, your legs still vibrating from the wild ride you just experienced.

“like i said,” he started, “if i had known you’d have been this easy.. woulda fucked you a lot sooner.” he turned and left the restroom, and you stayed slumped against the wall. now you could say one thing was for sure..

you definitely tolerated player 124.

• ─────────────── •

thanks so much for reading! i know it’s sort of different than what i usually write but i hope it’s satisfactory! as usual please, if you have any advice or constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing it’s greatly appreciated!

have a great day/night 💋

tags: @gabbystinks

[anonity]

BETTER -- drabble

been gone for a min for a last min road trip w/ friends for new years :) happy 2025! had this in my drafts after watching the paige ep on flau’jaes podcast

WC: ~1200 summary: paige catches you and your saved basketball edits

the amount of paige edits that popped up on your for-you-page was diabolical. especially considering she was your roommate.

you were waiting for her to return from practice, feet kicked up on the coffee table of your apartment, when the first of the day came up.

originally, you’d justified your ever-growing collection of edits as hype-videos: something you could scroll through before paige’s games to get you in the right mood. for a while, that checked out – you only saved her highlights, quick moving graphics with smooth transitions.

but then it had quickly devolved into what can only be described as an obsessive fan folder, filled with edits so thirsty you think you would actually combust if anyone saw them, let alone paige.

it was bound to happen.

you continued watching edits when the door opened, kept scrolling when it closed, and carried on even as paige leaned curiously on the kitchen counter. its not like she would know who you were watching – hell, you had juju watkins videos coming up on your page every couple days, too. 

this arrangement had worked perfectly for you for months. you got to indulge in your quietest delusions, and your best-friend-turned-roommate could continue on none the wiser. 

until her voice rang out clearly from your phone. you would’ve played it off, really, said it was an interview clip or something, had her voice not immediately been followed by the “or nah” audio. 

mortified did not even begin to describe the feeling clawing into your throat.

you scrolled impossibly fast and began praying. maybe she hadn’t been paying attention. maybe she wasn’t even in the kitchen anymore. maybe you’d imagined the entire thing and paige wasn’t even real and this was all some kind of awful dream you’d wake up from in 3, 2, 1���

“whatcha watchin’?”

you think your soul has left your body. 

paige is sauntering over and looking very smug. you’re wondering how fast you can make it from the couch to the balcony. 

“an interview,” you try anyway, despite the fact that not a single interview in the history of basketball has ever included fucking ty dolla sign.

paige smirks, leaning over the back of the couch. her breath tickles the top of your head and you shiver despite yourself, eyes trained on the tiktok now repeating on your phone – one of those orange muppet videos (pepe? is he supposed to be a shrimp?) stuck on the first slide. really, if it weren’t for the horrors of your current situation, you would find the irony funny. if you survived this event, maybe you would make one. you can see it now. “i’m watching edits of my roommate – my roommate walks in – i have to defend myself to my roommate –” i have to defend myself to my roommate.

“which interview?”

“umm,” you say, eloquently. you can’t think past your orange muppet spiral. “overwatch?”

paige laughs, a noise that distracts you long enough for her to yank your phone away. “overtime?”

shit.

you can barely get out a disdained “paige!” before you hear the audio repeating again. would a fall from the third floor kill you? is it still considered a fall if you jump?

you stop lunging for your phone – maybe you can just play it cool. who cares if theres a paige edit on your FYP? it's only weird if you make it weird. “you act like those don’t pop up on your for you page too.” 

paige shushes you, biting her cheeks in mock-seriousness. she shushes you! the nerve! if you weren’t so mortified you would argue with her! 

but you are mortified, and so you stay quiet.  the silence stretches on and on until your phone also goes silent. the apartment's heating unit is suddenly very loud, and for once you aren’t irritated at the noise – instead, you just think of how much you will actually miss your loud heating unit once paige processes the situation and kicks you out of your apartment in the dead of winter. 

you think it can’t get any worse, until another audio starts playing and a self-satisfied grin stretches across paiges face. “you have like 70 videos in here.”

somebody kill me.

the original silence is filled with mr. lover lover, and there is absolutely no way you can “it’s for the hype” your way out of this. she continues scrolling. you stare helplessly at the floor. after what you can only guess is six or seven incriminating edits, she pauses, her jaw clenching inexplicably. here it comes. 'get out of my apartment' – 'i can’t look at you the same anymore'. you’re so cooked. fried, even.

“whatchu got caitlin saved in here for?”

what?

you must’ve voiced that thought out loud, because she responds. “you got a thing for iowa players too?”

your brows furrow. this was not the direction you thought this would be going in. instead, theres an edge cutting through paige’s words that you can’t quite place. is she still pissed? you let out a nervous laugh. “relax, paige, it’s not like i’m making wedding plans with her.”

paige stiffens. “it’s enough for a save-the-date.”

“paige, it’s like a 30 to 1 ratio.”

“yeah, our points ratio is 30:1 too.”

what the hell? first of all, you watch enough basketball to know that's not true. second of all, again, what the hell? 

“i mean, it’s fine, i get it.” paige shrugs, suddenly uninterested in your phone. she tosses it on the couch and you (slowly) slip it into your pocket before she can change her mind. “i just think it’s funny you watch her when you literally live with someone better.”

“better at what?” paige splutters. “basketball.” 

suddenly, it clicks. you sit, quiet, stunned for a second. “paige, if i didn’t know any better i’d say you sound jealous.”

“it’s not jealousy! it’s.. like, respect.” paige gestures wildly, and you’d almost believe her if there wasn’t a flush creeping up her neck.  you raise a brow. “respect?” “we share a netflix account! and you’re saving edits of my competition!” “you’re totally jealous.” 

paige looks cornered, backing towards the kitchen. her gaze falls to the floor. “i just think, like, i dunno – i just think i care about you and i’m right here and you’re saving edits of caitlin freakin’ clark.”

you can’t help the laugh that escapes, the absurdity of this situation catching up to you. somewhere in the back of your mind, you see the orange muppet again. 

“what’s so funny?”

“you’re just –” you take a deep breath. “i can’t believe your jealous over a caitlin clark edit. you act like we’re together or something.”

“maybe i wanna be.”

paige freezes. you freeze. the heater kicks off. you're moving before you can think about it, standing in front of her. her eyes stay trained to the floor.

“i’m sorry. i just – you drive me crazy.”

“you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

she finally glances up, a smile cracking. “it’s not.”

“then what are you gonna do about it?”

her hand is on your jawline in an instant, and the nervousness bubbling in your chest is finally cut off with her lips on yours. when you pull away, she’s grinning.

“30:1 edit ratio, huh?”

your face heats, and you push your head against her chest. “not funny, paige.”

“i’ll make a new folder for you – poor decisions, filled with caitlin clark edits.”

"alright that's enough."

[ooooo-mcyt]

While I get people's desire to draw parallels within the final four of Secret Life, I really feel like a lot of fanon attempts to juxtapose Gem killing Scott with Scar sparing Pearl are unfair to either Gem or Scott.

I see people imply that either Scott or Gem did something wrong in some way- either Scott unfairly pressured Gem into killing him or Gem devalued her ally by agreeing- and attribute this as the reason they lost in the end while Scar and Pearl- Pearl being 'less pushy' and Scar 'caring more' about his allies- won. The thesis seems to be that Gem made the 'wrong' choice, Scar made the 'right' one, and that's why Scar won over Gem.

Which. No.

The truth is that there was no 'choice' to be made.

At the point where Gem killed Scott, both Pearl and Scar individually had more hearts than Gem and Scott did combined (this is not an exaggeration. gem had 6 hearts, scott had 2.5, pearl had 15, and scar had 17), Scott was an easy one-shot for whoever took the first swing at him, and he had no way to regenerate health at that point. Scar chose to spare Pearl, yes, but Gem didn't "choose" to kill Scott, there was no real choice in the matter. Scott was, practically, already dead, and Gem was close enough if she didn't take the final swing (honestly, even the hearts from scott probably never would have been enough to save her).

I've said this before, but I genuinely believe that Gem and The Scotts were doomed, probably starting from the fight with Grian (who took a frankly shocking amount of health from them all things considered). That fight just spread them too thin, took too much of their health. Impulse died shortly after, and what health Gem and Scott did have was whittled away fighting a team twice their size. Gem and The Scotts were a powerful and competent team with ample resources, but they took a hit the mechanics of the game wouldn't let them recover from, and everything from that point was them desperately fighting against the odds trying to get one of them to the end, even if they must have known how bleak those odds were.

People have called it poetic. 'Gem lost because she didn't value her ally enough, Gem ironically died to a 2v1 after killing the one who would have fought beside her, funny that she's so bitter about the 2v1 when she 'chose' to kill her teammate while Scott didn't, etc. '

And it drives me insane because Gem didn't choose to kill Scott out of some callous desire for an advantage, Gem killed Scott because the latter half of their finale was a slow steadily worsening case study in helplessness and Scott gave Gem everything as an act of love, in the desperate hope that she could find a way despite the odds, (only for it all to be wasted, because it was two against one, and they didn't give gem the chance, and of course that left her bitter)

I'm just so insane about this.

[bogleech]

I never thought about that, but I never found jigsaw puzzles enjoyable to do either! I might like the image being sold as the puzzle, but then I'd rather have it in higher resolution without all the jigsaw cuts.

Maybe it's also that I don't get a sense of challenge from it. I draw just how I want to draw and need to draw to be satisfied enough. It gets steadily better on its own just from understanding and remembering new things to do but it otherwise feels kind of like waiting in line at the DMV. It's the hurdle of a bunch of time that must be sacrificed for the drawing to happen.

This is why I always want a movie or series on while doing it. Anything to feel like I'm using the time for more than just sitting around waiting for my body to make the picture.

This post broke containment so some responses have no idea what I draw. I draw almost strictly creatures I come up with when it's not scenes for a webcomic I post.

Maybe it also sheds some light into this topic that I don't draw anything to just be a picture. I only draw things to be used in stories or games, things with a long term role attached to a narrative. These are all for my tabletop RPG setting which has over 800 monsters so far, and I love every single one but that includes thousands more that I've not yet had the time to draw. I come up with another handful of them every day without really meaning to. It's like an intrusive thought almost? And I want them all to become fully polished usable illustrations but I'm only one person.

I do enjoy the process of sketching the initial ideas, but that might be because each finished creature sketch takes me only seconds, so there isn't a sense of waiting and waiting and waiting for eternity for them to be done. Like in 6 hours I can make just one of those fully colored ones, or I can fill up an entire notebook with ballpoint pen or pencil ideas.

This is also why I cannot understand why anyone would want to use a design they got from an AI prompt. The only point of a concept is that you thought of it and that you even decided where every little wrinkle and hair and pants pocket was going to go. If an automated digital randomizer did that for you then it's not your imagination being realized :( Even when I could only draw 5% as "well" as I think I do now (and it's still not a great style by most standards) I was already willing to "wait at the DMV" for each one.

Lots of artists lately talking about burnout and how they no longer find the process fun and enjoyable.

And I'm over here like........you guys EVER found that enjoyable?? Was I supposed to???

It is not fun to do the work itself. It's never crossed my mind that it could be. Having something finished is great and I can't stop making things but the process required to have made something is just arduous tedious labor. you do it for the result alone, not the hours of sitting still staring at the same surface.

It must be awesome to ever be capable of enjoying a form of "work" 😕

[imaginespazzi]

This is on reffing.

And not just todays refs; it is on every single fucking ref that has let the most blatant shit go when it comes to Paige.

Because THIS is what happens when you let the other teams think they can do whatever they want and there won't be consequences. We make jokes about Paige arguing with the refs but 9.9/10 times, she's right because they don't call anything FOR her.

Most of these players can't guard her one-on-one and so eventually they get frustrated and they do the most aggressive thing possible. And when that shit goes uncalled, they keep doing it over and over again until things go from just being another uncalled foul to something like this.

I don't know what the injury is. I'm not going to speculate. All I'm gonna do is hope and pray that Paige is okay, mentally and physically.

But this is on the refs.

And listen, I'm not in the business of blaming players for intentionally hurting anyone. I'd like to think no one's doing shit like that and I'm also willing to understand that brains don't work in the heat of the moment in a game. But that girl absolutely did not have to do half of all the shit she did. And once again, refs deciding to give that a common foul was bullshit.

Also, to the fucking SNY broadcast, NOBODY NEEDED THE REPLAY. NOBODY NEEDED THOSE 56354 SHOTS OF PAIGE LOOKING UPSET ON THE BENCH. For the love of god, let these players grieve their injuries -no matter how major or minor- in private. Get the fucking camera out of their faces. Have some basic decency.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Lilia Vanrouge - Room Relaxation Voice Lines

It's a waste to sleep the night away! My special day starts now!

Summon: I got a birthday performance and a party to go to... Kheeheehee, tomorrow's sure going to be busy.

Groovification: I hate mornings... But there's so much fun things to do today. I can even appreciate the sun on a day like this!

Home: It's fever time!

Swap Looks: The morning sun's unforgiving today, as always...

Home Transition 1: This hairband is my absolute favorite, because it just increases my cuteness factor tenfold.

Home Transition 2: There's so much I want to do at night: play games, practice the bass, read, watch movies, and sometimes even study... Aaah, there's never enough time to do everything!

Home Transition 3: Birthdays are all about celebrating life and all the joys you receive from it. The date it's celebrated is not what's important.

Home Transition - Login: I get more into dressing up when it's for my birthday. It's no fun for anyone else if the birthday boy isn't looking his sharpest, after all!

Home Transition - Groovy: I got into a spirited conversation about the bass with Jade when he came over to give his thoughts on my birthday performance. I think he really knows his stuff!

Home Tap 1: Hoho! It's not often I spy Leona in the Mystery Shop all by his lonesome. Let's see, maybe I can wheedle a birthday gift out of him. Kheeheehee!

Home Tap 2: When I told him it was my birthday, Deuce practically shouted his birthday greetings to me. He did that even though I told him the same thing about three months back... Cute kid.

Home Tap 3: The eyeshadow Azul gave me looks to be a limited edition version of my favorite brand. Well, isn't he a sharp one.

Home Tap 4: I snagged these slippers from one of those online app crane games. You don't really see fluffy dragon feet like these just anywhere!

Home Tap 5: The string on my hoodie? ...Oh, you're right, the left side is a little too long. These things are a pain to fix once they completely slip out, y'know～!

Home Tap - Groovy: What's up, why're you grinning like that? ...I look cute in this getup? Heheh, well, that's because I'm a cutie, of course I look cute ♪

Duo: [LILIA]: Jade, this is how cute a real adult can be! [JADE]: You're almost too dazzling, Lilia-san.

Birthday Login Message: Thanks for coming to celebrate. I'm more than pleased to have you remember my birthday. The Pop Music Club is planning on having a birthday performance tonight. You'll be joining us too, right? I hear that Kalim is preparing an extra-large cake as a surprise. Cater was worried that it wouldn't be a surprise if he told me, but... Kheeheehee, I'm still happy about it. We'll sing and party, surrounded by all those close to me... It's this kind of birthday that makes me the luckiest guy in the world.

Requested by @kingren77.

[himbodruid]

Silent Poem

Zayne returns home to find you fast asleep in his bed. You help each other…relax. 😏

An expansion of Zayne’s Silent Poem Secret Times (some lines removed because try as i might, i couldnt make them fit)

Zayne x Reader

-:- massage leads to other things -:- clothed sex lol -:- body worship Zayne -:- sweet talkin mofo -:-

INTENDED FOR 18+ READERS. MINORS DNI

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was supposed to be a night filled with laughter over dinner, but dusk gave way to twilight in what felt like a handful of seconds. Doctor Zayne had called with his apologies, stating that an emergency surgery had come up and he would be home late. Dinner was packed away to be saved for another time, and you curled up on his sofa with the silly games you thoroughly enjoyed on your phone. You understood how it was. After all, you had to do the same to him several times as well. It didn’t bother you one bit- you would just wait until he got home, embrace him, and usher him off to bed for much-needed rest.

It wasn’t long before you started to nod off and you checked the time, noting that it was nearing midnight. There was no telling when Zayne would be home, but the two of you had shared a bed for some time now. You knew he wouldn’t mind if you slipped between the sheets to take a quick nap before he got home.

You changed into your long night shirt and were lost to the waking world when Zayne snuck into the room. He took light steps until he was at the bedside, peering down at you with softness in his gaze. The glass of water he held was placed quietly on the bedside table and he sat at the edge of the bed. He marveled at your beauty, wondering how he could have ever been so lucky to have someone like you in his life. Lost to these thoughts, he leaned forward and kissed you. Just a gentle brush of his lips against yours while you slept.

You inhaled sharply, startled awake by the unexpected contact. When you opened your eyes, you saw Zayne’s smiling face in the dimmed lamp light and relaxed back into the pillows.

“My apologies. Did I wake you up?”

You smiled lazily at him. “Yeah, but it’s okay. Are you just getting in? It’s so late!”

“Yes. It’s been hectic at the hospital as of late. Every night I had to return home in the middle of the night…you were sleeping so peacefully. I couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you.”

He leaned over to kiss you softly again, and you chased his lips until you were sitting up in the bed. Worry raced through you when he pulled away and slumped against your shoulder, closing his eyes with a sigh. You observed his face more closely and noticed exhaustion and tension bracketing his mouth and eyes. His arm lazily circled your waist, and your own came around him to embrace him back.

“Zayne?” You asked softly.

“Let me hold you for a bit. This helps me chase away my exhaustion.”

“You should relax more,” you murmured to him.

“Me?” He called you out with that one simple word and you huffed a laugh.

“Alright, we should relax more.”

“But how exactly…will you help me relax?” He lifted his head from your shoulder and stared at you intently with those eyes that held the depth of a forest. You watched as his gaze drifted to your lips and then back up, and you felt a blush spread across your face. What a strange time for shyness to strike, especially since intimacy was not new between you.

You push him away from you a moment so you could escape the covers. Kneeling over him, you started pushing his jacket off his shoulders and began working at his shirt, all while completely ignoring the intense way he watched your chest waving in front of his face.

Once his shirt was loosened enough, you dug your fingers into the muscle that made up the slope of his neck. You remember him telling you it was called the trapezius at some point, and how it was where he carried all of his stress. The moment your fingers dug into that brick wall of a muscle, he let loose a heavy sigh that was nearing a moan.

“Mmmh…massage. I see…” he grumbled with a smile.

“Yes, what else were you thinking?” You raised your brow, continuing to work at his neck and shoulders.

He cleared his throat a little bit and you took note of the blush that stained his ears. He blinked rapidly and looked away in that endearing way he did when embarrassed.

“Ahem. Never mind.”

His muscles finally started to give way to your ministrations, but your own tensed the more you worked at him. The sounds he made had your heart thundering, and you were acutely aware of how close your body was to his and how you still knelt over his lap- not quite straddling him.

He looked up at you, golden-green eyes hooded by barely concealed desire. “My eyes aren’t as tired as they were before. And my neck and shoulders feel so much better.”

“Good, I’m glad,” you said, smiling down at him. You knew your face and neck were red, and it took all of your effort not to run and hide. Your only saving grace was the blush that dusted his cheeks.

“Just sit on me,” he said, noticing how your legs began to shake from the unsustainable position you were in. “It’ll be easier for you.”

You began to decline, but his hands found your hips and suddenly you were straddling him in full. And you became very well aware of the hard length of him pressing against your core.

He moaned at the contact, a breathy sound that shot to your core. “I feel much better already.”

“Y-yeah?” You stammered. His hips rose to grind against yours.

“It’s more effective than the strongest, most soothing medicine in the world.” He kissed you then, an unhurried kind of probing kiss that drew you in the longer your lips held contact.

But then he pulled away, and you could feel the embarrassment at how easily you got lost in him flush through you again. Still, his arms caged you, keeping you close.

“Your lips are dry. Do you want some water?” He reached over and grabbed the glass from the table, presenting it to you.

“How did you know?” You realized you actually were parched. It was always a point of contention- you always seemed to forget to take care of yourself. “I keep forgetting.”

“You haven’t learned to drink it on your own yet?” You chose to ignore his chuckle by carelessly chugging the glass.

“Don’t rush, it’s spilling out,” he said, right as your overeagerness sent a trail down your neck, chest, and into your shirt between your breasts.

“Oh,” you said dumbly. He took the glass from you and put it back on the table.

“Zayne, help me clean it up, do you have a cloth?”

“All right,” he chuckled, pulling away the hand you were using to dab at it. “I’ll help you clean up.”

And then his mouth found where the water trailed at the hollow of your throat, a searing kiss that sent shivers through you. His mouth and tongue followed the water in a blazing trail on your skin, even tugging down the neck of your shirt to get at as much as he could.

“Z-Zayne,” you breathed, unable- or unwilling- to push him away.

“Is this what you wanted?” His question was murmured against your chest between kisses. You watched as his tongue slipped between your breasts with a hissed inhale, your hips grinding against him. His hands trailed up the backs of your thighs, teasing the hem of your shirt. There was nothing else there to halt his touch, save for your underwear, and he inhaled sharply at the realization.

“I knew it,” he breathed, nipping at your collarbone. “You want to do this to me again.”

And then his lips found yours again, coaxing you open so that his tongue could tangle with yours. His breath mingled with the soft sounds that escaped you. His hands skirted over your curves to lift your shirt over your head in a swift motion you didn’t even have time to react to. This bared you to him almost fully, the only thing covering you now was the soft cotton of the underwear you wore.

“Now you’re just taking advantage,” you chuckled, capturing his lips again. He smiled against your lips.

“What do you mean-” he began, interrupting his sentence with a kiss to your neck.

“I’m taking-“ another kiss, this one to your collarbone.

“Advantage-“ his mouth found your breast now.

“Of the situation?” His teasing words ended with an open mouth kiss to your other breast.

“Aren’t we just helping each other relax,” he questioned softly against your breast. His eyes locked onto yours as he continued kissing, licking, sucking your breasts. With a groan, he lifted you off of him for the length of time it took for the pair of you to fumble with his belt and pants.

When his cock was finally freed, you palmed and stroked him lazily while he gasped and groaned against your chest. But the control he struggled to maintain came close to snapping when you straddled him again, tugged your underwear aside, and slipped the tip of him just inside of you. His hips jerked involuntarily, slamming upwards into you and a whimpered gasp escaped you.

“Sorry,” he breathed. “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head, unable to put into words that it was quite the opposite. He filled you so well, that you damn near came apart on him with that single thrust. Still, he waited for your body to adjust to him, trembling with the effort.

“It’s been a long time since we last saw each other,” he whispered in your ear. “I missed you.”

Your body shuddered, involuntarily clenching your walls around him. He gasped out a moan, dropping his forehead to your chest while his hips began a slow roll. Your hands gripped at his biceps, fingers digging into him with the same amount of force you used to massage his neck.

“Does this also need to relax?” He said with a sly smile. You couldn’t even muster a response to his teasing. “Of course, I understand you only want to help me feel less fatigued.”

You ended his teasing by lifting from him and easing back down slowly. His breathing came in panting bursts while you rocked your hips against his. You watched his body reacting to yours with pleasured delight, trailing your fingers down his firm chest and into the hills and valleys that made up his abdomen.

“Are you enjoying your massage, Doctor Zayne,” you breathed to him, feeling uncharacteristically bold at the sight of him coming undone beneath you.

“Different muscle groups call for specific massage techniques,” he murmured. “Sometimes…being skillful is what really makes a difference.”

You smiled and resisted rolling your eyes. Still a clinical mind, even while you were impaled on his cock. You set out to make him lose that rational thinking by increasing your pace, taking him deeper and faster. Breathy moans escaped from him and his arms circled your waist to give added leverage as he helped to piston in and out of you.

“I think it’s getting more tense, now,” he murmured, kissing your chest as he nuzzled into you. You knew he was no longer talking about muscles. The lewd sounds of your bodies colliding rose to join the panting moans that permeated the otherwise still air.

“Perhaps…you could add a little more pressure,” he whispered to you before his mouth fell upon your nipples once more. Per his request, you clenched your walls around him as you rode him. With a whining moan, he halted your movements so that he could take over and slam into you from below.

All rational thought was driven from both of you, only this primal need left in its place. You could feel pressure building inside of you as his cock plundered you at an almost punishing speed. Hips collided in a frenzied urge to chase the high of release, breathless moans responding to the pleasure, bodies tensing until finally the pair of you spilled over the edge with cries of ecstasy.

He buried his face against your neck, nuzzling as his body continued to jerk and plunge his cock so impossibly deep inside you. Your cunt pulsed around him, milking him for everything he had to give you. His large hands gripped your hips in a bruising grasp, pushing you so that he remained buried in you to the hilt.

“I wonder,” he panted once his body stopped trembling underneath you. He laid back fully, an arm tucked under his head to prop it up so he could take in the full image of you straddling him, of you impaled on him. “How long were you planning to pull this stunt on me?”

You trailed your hands from his lower abdomen to his chest, leaning your hips forward only so slightly and dropping back down on him. He was still hard inside you, clearly not fully finished with you. “What can I say? I missed you.”

He clenched his eyes closed when you shifted on him, another short moan rising from his chest. “Yes, of course.

“I missed you too.” He punctuated his words by lifting his hips to meet yours.

“Mmmh, how much?” You followed the rocking of his hips, allowing him to pull out slightly before chasing the descent of him to sheath him inside you fully once he settled back against the bed.

He took your hands in his, pulling you so that you laid flat atop him. He captured your lips in a tender kiss, placing his forehead against yours when he pulled away. His hands smoothed up your back, holding you to him.

“Rest in my embrace, just like this,” he murmured to you. His hips lifted again, sinking his cock deep into you again.

“Now-” He kissed your jaw.

“Let me tell you-“ He kissed your neck

“How much I missed you when we couldn’t see each other.” He wrapped his arms around you and began to move.

“Relax,” he murmured to you when you tensed in anticipation. He moved slower now, rolling the two of you so that you were beneath him now. During the transition, he went too deep and you couldn’t help the hiss of pain that you released.

He froze, searching your face for any hint that you wanted to stop. You caressed his flushed cheek, drawing him back down to kiss him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said against your lips. “Does it still hurt?”

“A little, but I'm okay,” you tell him. You move your legs to wrap them around his hips, but he leaves you so that he can quickly shed the rest of his clothing. He rejoined you after removing your underwear, prodding at your entrance but not pushing in. Instead he leaned down to kiss you softly, in hopes to distract you from any pain or discomfort you might still be feeling.

“What about this? Do you feel better now?” His cock breached your slit, but he still wouldn’t fill you in the way you craved and you could feel your patience slipping.

“Or…do you want to change positions?” He stopped the forward tilt of his hips and pulled away to wait for your answer. You grumbled out a sigh, circling your legs around his waist so he couldn’t remove himself.

“Just do it and stop asking questions!”

With that, he settled over you fully, and you reveled in the way the size and weight of him pressed you into the mattress. His mouth captured yours once more and he rolled his hips forward.

The languid pace at which he pressed his hips into yours was almost too much to bear. You wanted to be taken fast, but the feel of him dragging against your walls was only accentuated by how slow he thrust into you. He was all but worshipping your body with his mouth and hands while his hips pressed into yours with every forward lunge.

“So much time has passed now. Don't you want me to say something?” What you wanted was him. To be drowned in him, swept away by the pleasure he elicited with every stroke of his cock. It was almost too much to bear, the sensations surrounding you as he clung to you as fervently as you clung to him. You closed your eyes, listing your chin when his kisses trailed down your throat.

“Tired already? You want to sleep?” His voice was light and teasing but held the hint of a threat in the undertone. You didn’t get a chance to answer before he slammed his hips forward. A pleasured cry escaped you, fingers digging into his flesh.

“We’re not done here. Quitting halfway isn’t something I would do. The night is still young, we have plenty of time to learn from each other,” he grunted, his hips colliding with yours at a brisk pace now. You whimpered beneath him, allowing him to hook his arms under your knees and practically fold you in half. He slammed his cock into you over and over and you tilted your hips to meet his at every thrust.

“Let me hear your voice,” he sighed, and you obeyed him. Once more, the sounds of pleasure mixed with the sounds of your frenzied coupling. His mouth latched onto the slope of your neck and by the time he was done sucking almost violently at that spot, you knew it was going to leave a gnarly mark. The thought of carrying his mark for weeks drove you even closer to the edge.

“Say my name,” he murmured against your skin, hips snapping forward with forceful thrusts as his climax started to build.

“Z-Zayne,” you whimpered. Your nails dug into his back at the guttural moan he released against your neck.

“Again,” he growled.

“Zayne-” His name came out more like a breath, barely recognizable as a word as his pace turned punishing. He was so impossibly deep inside that you didn’t know where he ended and you began.

“Again,” he groaned, his body trembling with the beginnings of his orgasm. One final, hard, thrust and he was spilling into you with a guttural cry.

“Zayne!” You all but screamed his name as the pulsing twitch of his cock flooding you sent you over the edge with him. You threw your head back into his pillows, body arching into his as your release shot through you.

His hips jerked and shuddered, his whole body trembling like he wasn’t in control. His eyes were clenched closed, his brows drawn down to crease at the center, while he struggled to regain some form of composure. But the intensity of the pleasure didn’t grant him a single reprieve as his body continued to convulse with moaning cries falling from his lips. All you could do was wrap your legs around his waist and lock him to you while he rode out the high with you.

“Fuck,” he whimpered against your neck when his body finally relented control back to his mind. He collapsed on you and the pair of you tried to calm your erratic breathing. Soft kisses rained on your skin and you couldn’t help the giggles that escaped you when his lips brushed sensitive spots.

When you came down from the pleasured high, he carried you bridal style to the bathroom. He started a shower for the both of you, willingly stepping into the blazing hot water you preferred. He cleaned you with a delicate touch, eliciting shivers as his hands glided over your body. And when he knelt before you to lather your legs with soap, his eyes locked onto yours with a mischievous glint in them before his mouth latched onto your cunt. He proceeded to turn you into a babbling mess, bringing you to the brink and driving you over the edge with his skilled tongue.

You wiped the self-satisfied smirk off his face when you knelt in front of him to give him the same kind of attention. He stared at you wide-eyed, blushing profusely, as you palmed him and ran your tongue along the underside of his length. Soft moans and curses escaped him as you worked him with your mouth, until he couldn’t take anymore and spilled against your tongue.

Dawn came and went by the time the pair of you tumbled into bed. You were spooned in his embrace, and the warmth of his body against yours lulled you into sleep. You were grateful that it was your weekend, because you didn’t have the will to leave his bed for even one minute.

Not that he would allow it.

[jun-was-taken]

There's no gaming experience that's been able to match it. It's one of those rare experiences where it just so thoroughly hits your resonate frequency your brain starts vibrating.

The game's systems and story are so singular in their theme and thesis. Everything you do reinforces the idea that human connection can overcome even the most fucked up dire situations.

One of the mechanics in this game is you can setup bits of infrastructure that people can see and use in their own worlds. You'll see a conveniently placed ladder here, a perfect save-your-ass-I-don't-have-shit-on-me rope there. Someone was looking out for you. You sauce them as many likes as you can. While you're helping the characters in-universe, you're also the guardian angels for other porters that are literally following in your footsteps.

It starts off small. You pack an extra ladder when you know you don't really need it, just so you can go off the beaten track and bridge a gap. Just for the simple pleasure of maybe it'll help someone. Oh man, that cliff was a real pain in the ass to go around. I'm ganna go back and put the rope I wish was there. The next thing you know, you're loading up your truck with literal tons of raw materials to complete out sections of highway.

You've cleared out everyone's stash of metals and ceramics. You stuff your truck, all 28 XL containers of assorted raw materials, beautifully stacked in the back. You're cruising down the freshly paved highway you just helped create. You have a podcast on and you're swerving spooky ghost creatures. One section done. Then two. Then three. The truck bed is lookin a lot lighter. You get to the last section of highway you planned to finish for that route. Time to cash in those last few containers. It'll be a job well done, clean op, time to dust your hands off. You did the math wrong. Ahh shit. You eye the last few containers rolling around in the back. You look around and spot an old rusted bridge. It's well traveled and loved, but it's seen better days. It's a good distance away but you could repair it with what you have in the back. Your truck is rusted and sparking from all the timefall. But the old girl has no quit in her. She'll always take you to where you need to go. You give that bridge a new lease on life, ready for the next set of muddy boots. Then you head back to the DC, planning your next route all the way to do it all over again. But first, a much needed break for the truck and for Sam.

This game is full little stories like this. I've setup a zipline network which involves braving the sketchiest parts of the world. Fighting through literal nightmare hell zones just to set it up. I booted up the game a few months later. I came back to see that multiple porters not only braved the same hell zone, but they schlepped their own materials to not only make sure it didn't rust away, but even upgraded. They had tons strapped to their backs, fighting like hell just so that the safe passage remains open. It makes my heart swell even as I type this out.

Every playthrough will be unique and deeply personal. Acts of service is the love language that ties every porter together. A simple thumbs up means everything. While I get that it's not a game everyone will enjoy, if anything that I wrote interests you, I hope that you give it a try. It's very special to me.

I highly recommend playing Death Stranding if you got a system to play it on

it’s set in this post apocalyptic world where everyone turns into a nuclear explosion ghost after death and the rain makes you and everything else old and for 30-40 years no one’s been able to do anything to combat it except bunker down underground and incinerate the dead. People are isolated because, wouldn’t you be if your neighbour dying meant your city turned into a crater?

but in spite of this all there’s hope that we can connect people again. The NPCs are relentlessly optimistic that we can manage the explosion ghosts if we work together. So much of it is just, building up small contributions and having them pile up and before you know it, you got something big going on. You’re the big damn hero (a guy with insane core strength who doesn’t die) tackling the (literally) heavy stuff but the NPCs are all eager to contribute whatever they can. Here’s some custom boots. A protoype engine. A non-lethal ranged weapon. A place to stay. A bridge to cross a river. A parcel of materials to build with. A generator just as your truck battery is dying. A good luck charm. A remote operated surgical table. A sign that says Keep On Keeping On.

I think it’s important to remember that the small stuff matters. It helped me a lot during the pandemic. The world is heavy and not everyone can lift 100kg, but we can all do something even if it’s just some words to remind people we’re in it together.

Also, Trump canonically died in a ghost explosion and was utterly annihilated down to the atoms.

[gothicfied]

Se-mi / Player 380 Headcanons

Pairing: Se-mi / Player 380 x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, blood (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff

જ⁀➴ With your luck, you weren't only stuck in a literal death game with 455 other players, you were also immediately taunted by arguably the most annoying two. For some reason, neither Thanos nor Nam-gyu could leave you alone. The former was grinning from ear to ear, making suggestive comments and the latter just leaned against the metal railing, nodding along. No matter how often you told them to leavd you alone or go away, they didn't. Until someone else approached, at least:

"Alright, fun's over, leave her alone." It was a girl, Player 380, who told them to break it up and leavd you alone. She practically shooed them away, tugging on Thanos' sleeve and just said "Yeah, yeah whatever." to their protests.

જ⁀➴ From then on, Se-mi just kind of took you in, and you accepted that gratefully. Her unbotherd nature and the way she wasn't even scared in the slightest, at least she didn't appear so, made you admire her. And, when you appeared to be scared or shaken up, she nudged your shoulder with hers, giving you a 'Everything-will-be-fine' kind of look.

જ⁀➴ Often times you found yourself talking with her back in the dorm area, but she just kind of listened. Se-mi appeared to be more secluded, but she made sure to take her time with listening about your thoughts or plans or whatever that was on your mind and you needed to get out. Her presence was calming and the things she said seemed very genuine.

જ⁀➴ She'd speak up for you in any moment that you couldn't yourself, giving you the voice you needed. Somehow, through your few interactions, she pretty much figured out what kind of person you were. Most of your view points matched up exactly, which made both of you smile everytime you noticed it.

જ⁀➴ Late at night, Se-mi would sneak over to your bed, claiming she wasn't tired at all and would much rather talk to you than sit alone with her thoughts. She'd tell you about her past and why she agreed to join the game, and you listened intently. After all, it was the first and only time she opened up to you in there. She said that it was something about you that made her feel safe, so you'd have a right to know about her and her motivations.

જ⁀➴ During the mingle, after listening to the game's rules, Se-mi grabbed your hand without an explanation and didn't let go until it ended. She just needed to make sure you made it out alive and she'd drag you from point A to point B if that's what needed to happen.

"Stay close to me," you could sense her distress in the way she gripped your hand, hers feeling cold against your skin, "don't you dare let go of me, yeah?" You looked up at Se-mi, urgency very noticeable in her eyes. "Don't worry, we'll make it out of here."

જ⁀➴ When stepping out of one of the rooms after the last round, Se-mi looked at the blood smeared across the white floor, her eyebrows knitted together. Admittedly, this was the most emotion you saw of her in the few days you got to know her. You sensed that she was probably starting to get a bit worried now, obviously, who wouldn't?

Your thumb swept over the back of her hand in a soothing way, making her head snap up to face you. Immediately, Se-mi's expression softened, which made you smile in return.

જ⁀➴ Would absolutely insult anyone who came up to you (Thanos.. Nam-gyu..) to get on your nerves again, or perhaps try to persuade you into voting to continue next time. She'd insist on sleeping on the bed next to you, just so she could be there and have a word with those guys. It made you laugh when she said that, and upon hearing that, Se-mi couldn't help but chuckle herself. You did take her very seriously regardless, tho.

જ⁀➴ While you two were eating, you discussed what you wanted to do with the prize money, besides paying off your debts. It was moreso her trying to figure out more about your private life: where you live, what your job is, if you have a partner.. Then, she'd just nonchalantly offer you some of her food that she couldn't or didn't want to finish (or maybe purposefully left it for you because you mentioned liking it. Just maybe, though).

જ⁀➴ As more groups started to form and the nights being far more dangerous now than before the second game, Se-mi suggested giving into Thanos' attempt to recruit you both for his team.

"It's better to hang around those assholes than to get stabbed, believe me." She said, rubbing her eyes. She knew you wouldn't be so keen on hanging around some junkies and Min-su, who seemed to dread being in a team with them, too. "Come on. It's for our survival. After this bullshit we don't have to see them ever again." Se-mi nudged your shoulder, giving you a grin. "Yeah, alright," you sighed, "just for you, though."

જ⁀➴ Se-mi would absolutely hate it if anyone else was depending on her. Not you though. She almost finds pride in the fact that you seem to think of her so highly, thinking she can protect you. She knows she can't fully do that, but she will definitely try to. Because, after a while, she had to admit to herself that her liking of you had gone further than just liking you as a friend.

જ⁀➴ She liked that thought. Being able to survive with you by her side, collecting that prize money and paying off your debts and then taking the rest to buy a house and maybe adopt a cat or two seemed like a pretty great plan. The thought of you being her girl made her happier than any money in the world.

[sweetfictionalworld]

The Deal - Chapter 3

Pairing: Hwang In-Ho/The Front Man x Female Reader

Story Summary: You get suspicious of Player 001 and confront him. That decision leads to a deal that will change the fate of your life forever.

Chapter Summary: In-Ho returns after the third game, and needs to distract himself.

Warnings: Nsfw, Smut, Oral Sex.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

"You can sleep here. There's some night clothes for you in the box."

In-Ho led you into his bedroom, containing nothing but a king-sized bed with golden sheets and a black box with a pink bow.

You swallowed and glanced over at him. "What about you?"

In-Ho smiled and walked up to you, his now bare hand cupping your face. You stared up at him, hearing the nervous drumming of your heart pulsate in your ear as you looked into his dark-brown eyes twinkling back at you.

"Don't worry, little one. I will join you as soon as I can. But for now, I have to sleep with the players."

His thumb ran across your bottom lip, his gaze fixed on your mouth and for a second you thought he would kiss you. You held your breath in anticipation, feeling the electrifying pulse vibrate between the two of you. Then, he suddenly let go, as if he woke himself from a dream, and the moment was gone. He left without a word and you lifted your fingers to your lip, grazing the trail of his touch as you stared at the closed door behind him.

Morning came sooner than you expected. You must have fallen asleep despite the thoughts tumbling around in your head. Were you actually starting to fall for this man? The nervous flutter in your stomach when you thought of him certainly suggested so. Well, fuck...

You looked at the clock on the wall in In-Ho's bedroom. 8 o'clock. There was another box waiting for you on the floor outside the bedroom door. You opened it and found a silk dressing gown, in gold of course. Damn, In-Ho was really obsessed with gold. You slipped into the gown and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth. One of the guards had brought more stuff for you yesterday, like toothbrush and toothpast and other hygiene stuff. When you were finished freshening up, you went into the main room. There, you saw a luxurious breakfast waiting for you. Those guards were really quiet, weren't they? You hadn't even heard them come inside to set all this up.

As you started eating, your thoughts went to the other players and the horrors they were going through right now. And here you were, eating this rich breakfast and enjoying the softness of a real bed and the warmness of a hot shower. You lost your appetite right then and there.

There weren't much to do when In-Ho wasn't around, so you picked up one of his books and made yourself comfortable on his armchair with a glass of whiskey. You really didn't care for the flavor much, but it was something to numb the guilt dwelling in your stomach. The guilt of sitting here whilst the other were down there, getting murdered. Guilt over the fact that the man responsible for those deaths made you feel things you hadn't felt since you fell in love with your husband. Fuck, fuck, fuck! You closed your eyes and repressed those thoughts to the back of your mind as you took a deep breath and started reading the book in your hand.

You were half through the book when In-Ho returned, still in his green track suit. His face was shiny with sweat and his right cheek was sprinkled with blood. You swallowed, remembering all the dead people after the first game. His face was hard and cold, so different from the man you'd dined with yesterday.

"Are you okay?" you asked and stood up from the armchair.

"I'm fine," In-Ho mumbled back and disappeared into the bathroom. You heard the shower starting and sat back down on the armchair, waiting for him to come back out.

When he did, it was in his Front Man outfit, with the mask on and everything. He approached you with determined steps, and you stared up at the black mask as he stood in front of you.

"Get up."

You quickly did as he ordered, didn't dare to question the harshness in his voice. In-Ho sat down on the armchair, put on his jazz music and took a sip from your whiskey glass. He closed his eyes and licked his lips before he looked up at you.

"Get down on your knees."

A pang of heat went through your body at his words and you swallowed as you obeyed his command. You watched with widened eyes as In-Ho zipped down his pants, reached inside and pulled his cock out.

"Go on, little one. Do what you're here for and satisfy me."

A part of you felt hurt that he'd seemed to forgotten the conversation you'd shared yesterday. Was it only you that felt that the two of you had shared an intimate moment and gotten to know each other a little bit? And the other part of you...that part could feel his words awakening a forbidden desire inside of you.

You gave your lip a nervous lick as you wrapped your hand around his cock, feeling him twitch at the touch. He was long and thick, much bigger than any guy you'd ever been with before. You leaned forward and gave the head of his cock a cursory lick. He tasted salty and sweet at the same time.

In-Ho released a sharp breath and you gave another lick, but this time you dragged your tongue along the underside of his shaft, across the pulsating vein there. A low growl vibrated from his throat and you couldn’t help but feel proud that it was you who emanated those sounds from him.

You parted your lips and took the head of his cock into your mouth in one single, fluid motion, earning a sharp hiss in return. Slowly, you started to move your lips up and down his length, taking more and more of him into your mouth.

As soon as your tongue touched the base of his cock, In-Ho bucked his hips and let loose another hiss, and you felt his fingers curl into your hair. You pressed your tongue against him again, prodding and massaging down his shaft as you continued to move your mouth along his length, and you reveled in his reactions as he hissed and growled. He couldn’t seem to decide whether to grab onto your hair for support, or to hold you steady. Eventually he decided on the latter, and he held your head still as he began to lightly thrust into your mouth, drawing a guttural groan deep from your throat.

Your small, needy moans seemed to drive him quickly toward the edge, as his hips moved more urgently and sporadically as he fucked your mouth. You couldn’t keep pace with his thrusts, and you could feel him begin to throb against your lips and within your mouth. In-Ho released a final sharp hiss as he grabbed your head and thrust forward. His cock twitched and then began to throb violently as he spilled his hot seed onto your tongue.

As In-Ho was still milking himself into your mouth, you looked up at him. For a brief moment you wished you could see his face, imagining his eyes half-lidded, unfocused with pleasure as he watched your mouth still firmly around his member. The throbbing pulses along his shaft had faded, and his vice-like grip on your hair was loosening as you pulled yourself off of his cock.

Then, In-Ho tucked himself back inside his pants, stood up and walked out of his quarters as if nothing had happened.

You found yourself sitting there on the floor, feeling used as the hopelessness of the situation struck you. No matter the deal you made, you feared that you would never get out of this place alive.

[pushingdaisies1]

hihi I am not sure how to submit a request because I have never really done one before but isit possible if u could do a myunggi x female reader fic😓😓🙏🙏 I haven't really seen much ffs about him and I really want to see his protective side being portrayed🙌

➜ ౨ৎ Paz Con Usted.

― ꒰ PAIRING: Lee Myung-gi x Reader! ꒱ ― ꒰SUMMARY: Your last relationship wasn't left on the best of terms. It was a small little fling, only lasting for five months. But the way he left was sudden and abrupt. He told you flat out that he wanted to end things, and that was that. Didn't give you any time to ask why, was it your fault? He had mentioned once or twice about his ex-girlfriend. But after making up this grand charade to your face you didn't expect to be the rebound. But in hindsight... you were. Now you are here, being told that you have an opportunity to abolish your debts. A hefty prize, an amount of money you've never seen in your entire life. This was the worst time to run into your jaded ex-boyfriend. But maybe he still had some room in his heart left for you. You weren't so gullible, fool me twice and whatnot. But him swooping in to stand up for you definitely made you feel those same old butterflies rise in your gut.꒱ ― ꒰WARNINGS: Honestly the biggest one I can think of is you and Myung-gi being messy. Like within the context of your prior relationship.. if that makes sense... yk? Start is kinda angsty!! Woops!! There's no violence (excluding regular squid game violence mentioned) but Thanos is Thanos!! No Jun-hee slander here folks. Mentions of Abortion (Jun-hee.) Consequences of Myung-gis actions with a somewhat happy ending!! yay!!! Like you two don't like reforge a whole relationship but no bad blood by the end of this..... wooo!!! Use of She/her pronouns once for reader. Also this is a tad bit long n may have spelling mistakes , woopsie...꒱ ― ꒰AUTHORS NOTE: Ohh no dw!! Yes ofc , here you go!! I really do hope you liked this!! I tried to stay as in character for Myung-gi as possible. He's very much a 50/50 character amongst fans. His actor's so funny and I honestly like his character. Like you envy him but you cant help but feel sympathy for him in moments. Crypto bro who I wanna dissect/look at under a microscope!! Also like... look at him... he's a cutiepatootie. He has his moments but like bro Jun-hee defender forever lmao. Also, I got this title from a beautiful song. It's by the band Ataquemos!! It's just so sweet and a generally warm song. I think it fits Myung-gis's motivations at heart. I tried to deliver on this as hard as I could, enjoy!!<3꒱

☓﹕You never thought you would see Myung-gi again. After your breakup, it all seemed a done deal. He hadn't truly explained his reasonings to you. About... splitting ties with you. I mean it was utterly absurd? Throughout your entire relationship, you always tried to do and be better than before. ☓﹕Always listening to his woes even if they were a little bit baffling for your tastes. What was his problem? You could tell he wasn't being entirely honest with you about everything. His past relationships, his history. But that was his business and not yours. But your breakup definitely surprised you out of left field.

☓﹕He wasn't answering your calls for a good week leading up to it. You were worried sick about him. Thinking that something terrible must've happened. You were so naive to his true intentions. When he finally answered your multiple texts and missed calls, he only followed with, "I'm sorry but I can't do this anymore. I loved you I really did. But I'm not in a well enough place to continue with this relationship. I hope you can understand. I'm breaking up with you and blocking this number. I'm sorry." ☓﹕The familiar sensation of your chest winding tight took over your entire body. Your hands began to tremble as you held your phone. No tears at the sight. But you were practically blown away. Ghosts you for a week and then break up with you over TEXT?! ☓﹕This was jarring beyond the humiliation and general grief you felt swelling inside of you. Did you mean that little to him? What was his fucking deal? He'd even met with your parents on a couple occasions. You at least thought you were serious enough for him to at least break up with you face to face.

☓﹕You didn't even bat an eye about the fact that he was a crypto-bro! Or, that he never truly got over his last relationship. I mean you at least never thought he did. Throughout your past committed relationships, you valued the honesty in partners about what their dating life had been like before meeting you. ☓﹕ It felt like their openness was full transparency, you know? Even if the relationships they had before meeting you were full-blown train wrecks. But Myung-gi was a whole different story from other previous partners. It was odd but again you never tried to pry at him. Were you truly in love or just blind with infatuation?

☓﹕It had been a month since he had cut you off from his life. It had been a month full of bitter spite and just... sorrow. The amount of loans you had taken out definitely started to pile up. You had teetered on the line too many times at work. Eventually losing your position after you accidentally blew up at a coworker. It didn't take you long for your debt to increase even more after that. ☓﹕With how bad the job market was you stayed unemployed for too long according to the bank. Job interviews weren't pulling through. You were practically drowning in unpaid loans and growing unpaid rent bills. Never were you a person to take handouts from friends or family. You were too stubborn for your own good. It was so isolating as your landlord continued to threaten to kick you out if you didn't have all that money in a week. If he was nice enough, he'd outstretch it to two.

☓﹕It was one humid evening when you were waiting for a train. That a man approached you. He looks clean-cut, a businessman-looking briefcase held in one hand. His faint eery smile didn't falter at all as he slid down right next to you. You had spent the afternoon visiting friends for once and running errands with what little you had. One headphone is looped and tucked around the left ear. Of course, you noticed him. He stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the middle-men office workers office workers, or the families trying to get home and escape from the summer heat.

☓﹕You kept your eyes straight ahead. "Pleasedon'ttrytoconvertme..." you repeated over and over again in your head. All you wanted to do was just rinse and repeat the same routine you had accumulated. The same pathetic routine you lived with ever since Myung-gi broke things off with you. But you were totally moved on now! It's been a month... that's a lot of time... right? ☓﹕ The sharply dressed man beside you broke your train of thought. Addressing you very formally, he offered you the opportunity to play a game. What game? , ddakji - for a cash prize every time you flipped his card to the opposite side. By the time you finally gave him an ounce of acknowledgment, most people had already gotten on their designated train. The station was empty and you still had awhile so why not? ☓﹕Shockingly you had won a majority of the rounds. Your arms shot up as soon as you saw his card flip over. He may have gotten one or two slaps in after you flat-out told him you had no more money on you to pay for your losses. "That's okay, you'll pay with your body.", excuse me? ☓﹕By the time he handed you the money he now owed you, he quickly started to latch up his briefcase. Trying to bring levity to the situation, he stopped you before you could get any other words in. From his pocket, he slipped out a card. A circle, triangle, and square on the front of it. Flipping it over it looked to be a phone number. Examining it with keen eyes you heard him mutter "Have a great rest of your evening." under his breath. Before you could thank him or do such a thing he was already gone. ☓﹕Vanished right before your eyes. Your head spun around, eyes landing on the now arriving train. Time to think about this and more once you finish your trek home.

☓﹕If it was only a little game, how hard could it be? You needed the help desperately. No matter how pathetic it was you called the number. Giving the unknown voice on the other end your name and birthday. Quickly and precisely they explained where and when you would be picked up. ☓﹕Seemed easy enough from your point of view. The place they referred you to was one of the largest shopping centers in Seoul. The time was way after the park's hours. It was odd but guaranteed a spacious and empty environment for the pickup to happen. As you listened you couldn't help but feel a low twisting in your gut. This felt wrong, not right at all. You were too far gone now. So you agreed to the terms and hung up the phone.

☓﹕The day finally arrived. You tried to get your assets in order. Told ones closest to you that you'd be busy due to a "new job offer." It was shocking how they all bought the lie. You just wanted to make a quick buck to lessen your debt, that's all. Your eyes flicked down to your phone as you clicked it on. The breeze rustled your hair. The home screen of your phone reads that it is finally midnight. You had gotten there earlier than told on the phone. ☓﹕Just to shake the impending nerves away. It felt like a bust because right on schedule, a van arrived. A masked man rolled down the window and stated your name. Your eyes widened as that pit feeling got deeper and deeper. The door of the van slid open and you slid inside the vehicle. Getting a feel for the van you right saw the slumped-down bodies beside you. Your throat tightened as you tried to find answers to your questions. Before you knew it heavy gas started to fill the backseat. The car whirred to life as you slowly collapsed, finally unconscious.

☓﹕By the time you awoke, you were met with the sounds of classical music and a bed. The metal squeaked gently as you sat up in the bunk bed where you lay. People who were dressed in similar attire as you, with numbers on their chests and backs littered the beds around you. Some were already starting to climb down and stand around on the main floor of the dormitory. Standing back, you were puzzled by where you now were. You were practically whisked away from your life on the outside. This wasn't disclosed in the phone call.

☓﹕Murmurs could be heard in the wide crowd of participants forming in the middle of the room. Others were scared of what this might entail, while some were dumbfounded by the swift change in scenery. The same masked men with different variations of their masks walked out, one outwardly greeting the bewildered players. Immediately as soon as they started taking questions, people kept on giving and giving. By now you had joined the crowd, standing more by the back wall of beds.

☓﹕All of a sudden your ears get all warm and irritated as soon as you hear a specific voice. The same voice of the guy who ripped your heart out and left it beating on the cold floor. Asking for his phone and wallet for market checking of all things? You were staring directly at the back of his head as he whined in annoyance. If it was anyone else, you would've been remorseful. These "guards", had stripped everyone of their personal belongings and usual clothes. But hearing that prick made your head get all hot and all rationality gets just as fuzzy.

☓﹕On the screen they displayed multiple of the players. Their individual names, and the debt amount they had to their name. Myung-gi's face flashed on screen with his hair mostly hidden with a bucket hat. Playing the same game you had when the recruiter found you in that subway. His face getting slapped, holding his cheek. You especially heard ringing in his ears when you heard he had CHARGES against him?

☓﹕During the time you had spent with him, he never once brought that up. Nor the crypto coin scam he ran on multiple people. Other player's faces followed after his. One person's debt reaching into the billions. But your head was spinning at the fact that maybe you didn't know your ex-boyfriend that well. You weren't judgemental of the fact that he dealt with cryptocurrency. Which was probably your biggest mistake. The rose-colored glasses were even more damaged now. Who really had you been dating for those five months?

☓﹕After the square guards' passionate but monotone speech, consent forms were immediately dished out. Four guards stood at each individual post. Handing participants pens to sign the contracts, the rules all in bold. Your number was somewhere in the middle of the large range of game participants. So let's just say you stood around in that line for a while. You didn't really take the time to strike up a conversation with anyone.

☓﹕An older woman, the same one who was arguing with her son earlier was behind you. She was kind enough to take the initiative. She seemed like a nurturing sweetheart. Her words were kind to you as she asked you why you were here and other small talk. It was the most sympathy you had heard from someone in a while. Finding the time to crack a grin of three as she commented "You look like a respectful kid." It was the most conversation you had... since you had gotten here.

☓﹕You two both discussed how this may work. The entire you mostly listened as she talked about how this all seemed "too bizarre for her tastes." You chuckled, cluelessly shrugging with a "We'll find out soon enough." Her son the entire time was trying to get his mom's attention. But she was determined to keep on talking to you. Until it was your turn to sign your signature. ☓﹕Glancing over the rules your head cocked to the side a little. Already here, it felt useless to back out. Leaving with nothing is worse than leaving with something. Readjusting your hold on the pen you quickly signed the contract. Gently placing the pen back down where it sat before, your mind now clear, you started to walk out and away from the four single-file lines. ☓﹕Until you heard a scuffle at the other side of the room. Chu Su-bong and another player were towering over another player. You don't realize who the victim was until you hear the purple-haired one rather loudly announce the name "MG Coin." You wanted to scoff at the cheesy name. Clearly, if those guys were picking a fight with Myung-gi they must've been the people who invested in the coin. ☓﹕You know what? , serves him right. Facing his comeuppance face-on and head-on. But you couldn't help but feel some odd form of pity as you watched Su-bong almost swing on "MG Coin." Thankfully the other player riled him down. The two walked off and the air in the room stayed as stale as it was before. Something inside of you was eager to approach Myung-gi. Before you could stop yourself your feet were already walking to where he was sitting.

☓﹕He looked so small and so pitiful. His head was in his hands as he rubbed his face. Your steps were precise as you walked towards him. Your arms were crossed as you looked him up and down. "Was I just some joke to you?" You sneered. As soon as he heard you his head shot up. Eyebrows creased and mouth agape. The last time he had spoken to you, he didn't expect you to be here of the sort at all.

☓﹕"What are you even doing here?" He whispered, trying to keep his volume to a low. Not to make another fool of himself again. "I should be asking what you're doing here? Oh wait, never mind, I know. Guess I was dating a criminal. I wasted a lot on you. Supporting you, listening to you, being an above-average decent human being for you? And you repay me by keeping me in the dark about something as big as this?" You snapped back at him. Not holding back any resentment that grew towards him during your mutual time apart.

☓﹕"It's not like that-" Your eyes went wide and your jaw fully dropped. "No, I think it is like that. You don't hide stuff like this from someone Myung-gi! What was I even to you? And by your actions.. clearly nothing." He couldn't stop the scoff escaping him, which just pissed you off even more. "Do you ever stop talking? Everything was always my fault when it came to you. But when I tried to explain myself you'd immediately patronize me." ☓﹕"Patrionize you?! You didn't tell me you were wanted by the authorities! For five months, I thought you were just struggling. That's why I helped you so much. That's why I practically let you live with me after a while-" The realization came to you. Was he just using you to hide from the cops? He put his hands up in between the two of you. "When I met you I was in a rock and an even harder place. I-I was trying to turn a new leaf... I had hurt so many people. But you took me in and I..." ☓﹕"And you what? Found an easy cash grab to live off of until you felt guilty enough in that bitter heart of yours?" Your words pierced every muscle in his body. "I loved you, you piece of shit. I loved you a lot. You met my parents! You saw the best of me. You are acting like our time together was nothing. I for sure thought it was something and guess you didn't feel the same." A sigh left you as you got everything out. Everything that started to slowly form after you got that text.

☓﹕"... Are you only here to scream at me? Right now, here? Gotten it out of your system?" His words were like an even deeper twist of the knife. He clearly could see on your face that his response was the incorrect thing to say. He tried to stammer out an apology but you were already backing away. "I'm here to revel in your misery. I've seen enough... good luck." ☓﹕Turning around you noticed a specific player in the sea of people looking at you. She was sitting by one of the bunks. A hand gently cradled her stomach. Her eyes looked glazed over with unshed tears. Her stare was icy and almost demeaning as you looked back at her. They told a story that you didn't quite understand, at least not now. Shrugging it off you went to go find a place to cool down before the first game.

☓﹕It was comical hearing what the first game was. A children's game you used to play with your classmates when you were young. Shouldn't be that off-putting on the outside. Definitely was more with the larger-than-life doll staring all four hundred and fifty-six players down from the finish line. An older man, the 456th player, immediately ran up before the games even started. Yelling that this wasn't just any ordinary game. That lives were at stake and the doll had motion sensor eyes?

☓﹕You definitely started to believe him along with many others once the first player died. One by one gunshots rang out. Bodies were either piled up at the entrances or littered across the sandy ground. People immediately changed their tune and began to run in a lot more of an ordered fashion. Because the doll would only pick up the first person's motions. In following the orders this stranger shouted you actually made it to the finish line. You shockingly made it out alive... only after the first game. ☓﹕After a good chunk of the players were left, everyone was escorted through that colorful maze of stairs back to the dormitory. People were practically cowering in fear and begging for mercy from the guards. The same stranger who had practically saved the lives of every remaining player urged for a vote to take place. Since it was in the forms and already promised, it had to be done. ☓﹕The bloodshed you saw was terrifying. People dropped like flies even if their hands were trembling. It was mortifying to see so up close. By the time your number was called you immediately felt a sense of determination. You weren't desperate enough to watch others lose their lives while participating in gruesome children's games. Nor did you want to die here and have no one you knew realize you died. You'd rather get your body stripped for parts.

☓﹕It wasn't shocking that Myung-gi went for the opposite side as you. You clearly barely knew the man, so anything made sense at this point. It was neck and neck, practically so close to having your side win. But one person broke that, and the opposing side ended up winning. Their cheers were met with broken hearts and people who had just lost a fraction of their hope. ☓﹕The air in the room was building with tension. As players were given food one by one by the circle guards, the entire time in line you could only think about one thing. The girl who was staring daggers into your soul. You didn't know if it truly was something to worry about. But hell you had a ton of time to kill. So you thought the best thing to do was to try and ask the million-dollar question.

☓﹕You slinked back to the side. Your eyes scan around the spacious area to look for her. You recognized the same head of the older woman you had conversed with. During the first game, you noticed that in a fleeting second, the two had conversed. It must've been something to do with that. Right away you started walking over. Her son giving you the perfect moment to approach player 222.

☓﹕She was eating her food, not noticing your steps. At least that's what it looked like. You gripped the water bottle in your hand. Clearing your throat, you two made eye contact. Her gaze was less hurtful. More hollow, as if she was yearning for something. But you had no idea what. Words were stuck in your throat, you were at a loss. ☓﹕"Can I help you...?" Her tone was cautious as she let her tin of food rest in her lap. Her arms were more closed, resting towards her side. You stammered out a "Here." Your hand offered up the water bottle. Her eyes looked at the hand, and then back to you. Almost as if she was waiting for you to finish your sentence.

☓﹕"I-I saw you earlier in the game ... I know it's impolite but it was all just me guessing I didn't mean to offend you-" You were surprised you weren't cartoonishly slipping on a banana peel here. Expecting her to cut you off, she still kept on staring back at you. "Thank you." She whispered as the palm of her hand opened. You immediately handed her the water bottle.

☓﹕The quiet was suffocating. Everyone's conversation and consumption drowned out your subconscious. "Are you Jun-hee?" You abruptly questioned her. She lost all the color in her face. Instead of responding to you verbally, she nodded her head as she stared down into her lap.

☓﹕You could easily connect the dots. Myung-gi had mentioned her by name once when you asked him about his previous partner. She was here, trying to win to make money for Myung-gis unborn child. You had lived five months blissfully unaware of this, of any of this. "Is that why you were watching me earlier?" You asked with a tremble of your lip. Repeating her prior action, she nodded her head. ☓﹕"Oh my god... I... I'm so sorry." Your words were a mess as your past relationship with this perfect guy broke apart. You had fit each other so perfectly. You didn't expect this behavior from him, how could you? Jun-hee was clearly holding in a lot. But she couldn't muster any anger. You clearly were clueless about his lies. By the way, your eyes went wide and your mouth parted, she couldn't stop herself from feeling pity for you. ☓﹕"When I told him, he originally wanted me to get rid of it. Said that we'd handle it." She spoke up as her tone of voice wavered. "I had already invested into that Dalmation coin and he was being hounded by the cops. By then I found out about its failure, he already left my life without another word. I decided that our child didn't have a father anymore and kept it. It's been six months."

☓﹕Anger burned in your chest. Jun-hee looked like a sweet girl. She was so beautiful, like a little button. You felt wronged and betrayed but also vengeful? She stopped you from thinking any harder. "I don't need him. So please do not feel bad for me. When he left he lost his chance. I tried too many times to be there for him, but he didn't try once for me. He's not a good guy."

☓﹕Your head lulled in recognition as you listened intently. "I-I seriously had no idea. He told me a whole other story." She simply shrugged at your response. "That sounds like Myung-gi." She remarked in a reserved way of speech. You couldn't help but crack a small laugh in defeat because it sure was him. ☓﹕You felt pure remorse running through your veins. You extended a vine of friendship to the poor girl. "I know we know each other for the worst of reasons. But... I hold only anger for that man. If you need anything or anyone, you have a friend in me Jun-hee." You lamented as your shoulders lost some of the tension they held before. ☓﹕She plastered a small but noticeable smile on her face. Either real or fake, you took it as a win either way. "I appreciate your kindness." She politely remarked as her head bowed at you, you did the same. "You are a good person. I hope we make it out together and can form a real friendship." That seemed to lighten her spirits. "I hope so as well." Her words were direct but her tone was soft and gentle. ☓﹕You were already bothering her enough. With a small wave of your hand to bid her farewell, you began to walk away. Opening up your tin of food you spent the next couple of hours picking at the once-enclosed meal. You were too stuck in the past. Every sweet moment you had with Myung-gi rotted and turned sour. The only things that gave you any ease at night were thinking back to your exchange with Jun-hee and the warm glow of all the prize money in the middle of the ceiling.

☓﹕The next morning came as a definite wake-up call. The same classical elegant tune blared over the speakers. You wished you could curl back into bed with the pillow muffling the repentant noise. But thanks to the system in place you were stuck here. People were quickly rising out of beds, no one really stopping to sit.

☓﹕Walking down to stand at your bed post you noticed two familiar figures conversing. Myung-gis bruised face and Jun-hees stern brow. You could remember the fight that broke out in the middle of the room, and the reason why he looked so beat up. The same purple-haired guy, Su-Bong beating down on him with the help of what looked to be his sort of right-hand man. Only until the same player who broke the vote count tie stepped in. Myung-gis and Jun-hees exchange didn't look pleasant but no time to focus on that. Guards were already walking in, ready to escort every current participant through the game hall.

☓﹕After making it through the long and winding staircases, you were brought into a large room. It almost resembled an elementary playground. With the bright colors and two rainbow roads, as well as the back walls resembling a sort of school structure. You were set to make teams of five with ten minutes on the clock. Nobody wasted any time in finding teammates. You were having a hard time locating one to join.

☓﹕Time was ticking down bit by bit. It felt more like five minutes to decide who to team with as you saw people right away strategizing. Your fingers danced at your sides as you cautiously walked around. You had gotten rejected from two groups. One because they were already full, with wishes of good luck as you walked away. The other one was because they were also full and you didn't have "the look." ☓﹕Suddenly you heard someone trying to get another person's attention. When you looked back you saw that someone was trying to get your attention. The same guy who was ready to beat Myung-gi to a pulp if he had the chance. The same guy who was pushing people over in the first game as if they were only dominos. He walked with pride as two men followed behind him, one of them the same person who was also beating up on Myung-gi. ☓﹕"Owww Senorita... you're too cute to be alone. Let's play this game together." He purred as he approached you. His arms were crossed and his chest was clearly puffed up. Player 124 clearly didn't look happy about this. Chewing at his inner cheek with an unpleased look on his face. Player 256 was clearly awe-struck with the guy, practically ready to kiss the ground he walked on. ☓﹕You would rather get gunned down than be stuck with this guy and his lackeys. It was a hefty gamble... that's why you never participated in the act. Besides he may get you killed in the next game, if not in this one. So you flashed on a polite but guarded expression. "Sorry but, I'm alright over here." Player 124 scoffed in relief as Su-Bongs head turned back, almost as if sending him a long and lengthy message only with a glare.

☓﹕"It's only you over here though. Come onnn... I'll protect you the whole game. You don't have to worry about anything when you are in the Thanos world. It's a pretty perfect deal." He smirked with confidence. On accident you let a sheepish laugh slip out. He took that as the initiative to push even harder on your buttons.

☓﹕"Whatever the game is I'll destroy anything that tries to tear us apart." He hummed with a boyishly sinister way of speech. You've denied him multiple times by now. Before another polite "no" could be added to that list, you looked up to notice Myung-gi. He was standing in between you and Thanos. His feet are firmly planted in the ground. The clock just now ticked past four minutes.

☓﹕"Ahhh MG Coin, I'm a little busy over here." Thanos snarked as he took a step back. Myung-gi huffed out a reply, "She said no man. So listen to that and go find two other people." By the way, Thanos's expression appeared; he thought this was humorful. "Are you looking to continue where we last left off, MG Coin? I think your purple and new red would look nice together." He replied with promise laced around every word. ☓﹕Myung-gi wasn't backing down and you were taken aback. His body guards Thanos from approaching close to you a step further. Why was he doing this? The clock on the wall took no pause for this. Clearly, this little confrontation was only wasting time. Thanos backed down but "took it to heart." He placed his hands on his chest in a quick heart rate motion. "You hurt my feelings MG Coin. Thanos never forgets." He emphasized his statement as he and the two other players walked away in the opposite direction.

☓﹕As as the three men leave out of sight he's already turning around to face you. "Are you okay?" His voice was signaturely dry but almost sweet. Outwardly trying to sound as apologetic as possible without saying it. You hadn't seen Myung-gi act like that in a while. It definitely made something in you stir. But you weren't going to say anything of that. He was met with a similar closed-off attitude he was met with by Jun-hee. This time with anger simmering beneath the surface. ☓﹕"Is that your way of apologizing?" You remarked with no remorse. "I-I do feel terrible about what I said. Please... I'll explain it to you after you join me." Your eyebrows creased, your expression reading like he had just dropped a bomb of news onto you. "You don't have a team and the people I partnered with - we need one more person... I'm begging you." His voice was finally filled with genuine emotion and emotion that wasn't him whining about problems he caused. ☓﹕"Fine." Your response was one note but that's all that he needed. He led you over to the group of older men. They were much more friendly faces than some of the participants you had to interact with. The game was finally introduced, more like the game and minigames were introduced. Right away, as soon as the monotone voice on the speakers was done explaining the ins and outs, you all started talking about what games would be your biggest strengths. ☓﹕Watching each team go up was like a game of chance. Either both teams would cross the finish line with triumph and hurrahs of joy and relief. One would have their moment in the spotlight of victory while the other would be mercilessly gunned down. Teams who didn't even make it past the second or third game would be shot without notice by the time the timer was done. You tried to stay as focused as you could, examining the surviving team's strategies for your group's potential success.

☓﹕By the time yours and Myung-gis's team went up, there was still a pretty size-able audience left of players. You kept your hands gripped into fists as a circle guard locked your ankles together. The previous rounds of gunfire from the guards still rang in your ears. But your top priority was to survive all five games and make it out of this one alive. You weren't going to die running around a rainbow road playing some small little minigames anytime soon, that was below you. The five of you felt that same momentum coursing through your veins , and then you were off.

☓﹕The sportsmanship that coursed through the crowd with previous teams was already heavy. But experiencing that yourself felt electrifying. Like the only time players who wanted to leave and those who wanted to stay felt truly equal. It was another asset that pushed you and your fellow teammates to finish every game with perfect precision. Your mind wasn’t focused on your potential demise when your turn arrived. The cheers made you focus on the task in front of you.

☓﹕It was with Myung-gis's final kick that your team made it. You made it with time to spare! Arms quickly locked together, each final step you and your teammates made was quick and firm. Everyone erupted with applause and cheers as your team jumped around with utter relief and joy. You had the freedom to walk out with your spirits still held, being led back to the dormitory by a couple of the guards. ☓﹕Making it back, there were only a few teams in there. You had recognized the same familiar face of the older woman. The same woman who was conversing with Jun-hee and one of the winning teams. Other groups of players were littered around in tight units. Only some looked back to the door to see who arrived back. ☓﹕ It was a lot more quieter now compared to before the second game began. This made sense since more five-player teams still had to compete and make it out alive. The door unlatched open and you were absorbed in the ambiance of whispers and emptiness. You gave gentle nods of recognition as your older teammates boasted about your combined success. You noticed how sullen Myung-gi was. ☓﹕Your stomach contorted as a deep sigh left you. "Hey." He heard you call out to him. You were walking directly behind him. He slowly spun around to face you. His eyes bore into the ground under the two of you. "I-I know I... I know I messed up. Especially with you and I am sorry." He looked up to face you. But you were trying to guide him away to a more secluded area of the multiple bunks. He followed you like a lost puppy. ☓﹕You sat down on the edge of a random bunk, the metal under you squeaking at the sudden pressure. He sat down right beside you, arms hanging low in his lap. You looked to him as to give him the room to speak, to "explain himself." You could hear how tight his chest was while he spoke. Bursts of air left his upper frame at every grating word that left his mouth. ☓﹕"When I met you... I was a mess." Your head lulled in a nod as a sign for him to continue. "I had hurt so many people, so many people I once held close to me. But you didn't know who I was. You looked at me like... no one else had. You were someone who still thought of me with some respect. I-I didn't want to ruin the image you had of me so I was a coward and hid that from you." A shaky chuckle left him. His words were so warm, they reminded you of the good times you two shared together. But you were past feeling pity for him, it was more so guilt now. Guilt for a relationship built on falsities that you participated in. ☓﹕Your head turned in his general direction. But your eyes didn't meet him. "Were you using me?", you bluntly asked. "No... I took the help you offered me. I was happy with you-" Your eyes began to water. "I know about Jun-hee." He almost looked surprised as the two of you locked eyes. "... I didn't know about it. I didn't know she kept it." A sheepish chuckle left you as you wiped away falling tears from your eyes. Dribbling down your cheeks, staining them with your constant reminder of turmoil. You didn't want to cry in front of him, but he noticed. ☓﹕"My life was falling apart. I had people out there who wanted to see me hang for what I had done. Which ... wasn't entirely my fault if you think about it. I met you and you closed up all my wounds. You didn't look at me with shame so many others did. I finally felt good about myself for once in a very long time. But then my feelings just grew too complicated. I didn't want to pop our little bubble.. so... I ran away." ☓﹕"You're an asshole." Your words had so much emotion in them. But he couldn't help himself. "I know I am. I regret the times I could have been better... for you." A long and lengthy pause for silence grew in between the two of you. You rubbed your eyes as you thought of whatever you could say next. You were too tired to argue with him. "Do you promise me that if you make it out of this alive, with her, you'll be a better man..?" It was a dumb question to ask of him. Could men like Myung-gi ever change?

☓﹕"Yes. One hundred times yes." He nodded his head adamantly. Your expression was bittersweet. Your head lulled in a nod one more time before you just sat there with him. He turned his head away from your direction. Staring down into the floor, the silence shared between the two of you was almost comforting. It was a familiar sort of ember that burned in the coldness that was your entire relationship. -> "I hate your guts." He smiled, hearing an emotion that wasn't resentment in your voice. "You have every right to."

― ꒰AUTHORS NOTE: Aghhh I know this one was really angsty I'm sorry!! Guys, I love angst can you tell? The idea seemed so somber like u 2 r so tragic it’s aghhhhhh. I really hope this was an enjoyable read. If you’re interested in sending me a request , check out my currently pinned post<3 Ly all , byeee!!! ( ^ . . ^ )

[thefirstknife]

Go off! It's the Cinemasins Effect. There is no literary analysis, just listing of facts like you're reading a Wikipedia summary. Devoid of accounting for personality traits, external influences, basic human (or alien) contradictory nature, unreliable narration (always present in Destiny), multiple points of view that are clashing (because that's how the world works), etc., these facts tell us little about the actual story so it's easy to misinterpret obvious solutions.

A listed fact might say "Eramis endangered her own house by opening the Vex portal on Europa" and then whenever Eramis talks about caring for her people, someone who engages with only the list might think "That makes no sense!" And it does, if we go deeper and account for her desperation and corruption and how much she did not understand what was happening to her. She desperately tried proving that she has agency, but it was the exact opposite; while fleeing from the Traveler claiming not wanting to be its pawn, she was actually the pawn of the Witness. She was used by the Witness to get us, the real target, to be tempted with stasis and the moment she lost (no longer worthy of being a part of the final shape), she was discarded. However, not entirely, because she still had to remain a pawn potentially to be used later when the Witness needs a convenient and desperate soldier to enact its plans under a threat of a total annihilation of her people; because that's what the Witness does. She literally commented on this, how the Witness is "punishing her" by turning her friends into Scorn.

But we never see even a fraction of this kind of analysis in the most popular circles and "lore masters" will always prioritise just listing events and doing "Ending EXPLAINED!" videos with zero character motivations or analysis mentioned. I won't even go into how much of Destiny story is obviously constricted by technical elements and the type of game it is, which is something people forget all the time and expect Destiny to suddenly have a singleplayer RPG level of game design which simply will not happen. A lot of the perceived faults in the narrative are almost always of technical nature and writers themselves have spoken about this. I feel like that has to be included in any analysis worth a damn because Destiny's story is trapped within the confines of the genre of media it is in (first person looter shooter); while the story is a major part of the game's essence, gameplay comes first, always. If the story has to be constrained for gameplay purposes, it will be. If it has to be constrained because there's not enough time or resources to add more dialogues or cutscenes or to expand the scope of every character or to create a more complex narrative, it will be. Given all of this, I think the team has done a great job for Eramis over the years and kept her arc as consistent as possible which made this ending easy to predict and satisfying because the arc has concluded as it was intended.

At the end of the day, I don't even mind if people have a personal reason to think "Actually I would never have forgiven Eramis." I'm sure there are characters in-setting who think that; either because of a lack of knowledge about her (if you're just some random citizen, you don't know the details of her corruption or her internal feelings) or because you were personally victimised by her (a lot of Eliksni fled House Salvation because of what she did on Europa that endangered their lives; they may never be ready to forgive her or accept her). That's completely fine. As a matter of fact, I expect it! It adds depth to the story.

The issue is that these people usually go about it by blaming the writers and saying that the writers told their own story wrong. That this decision was objectively incorrect or somehow bad for the narrative or a retcon or out of character or whatever. And it's just not. We, the players, who have all information and everyone's internal feelings presented in the story and lore books, know that this was the intended character arc for Eramis since the moment she didn't get killed at the end of Beyond Light.

Eramis Executors are up in arms that our favorite, bitter, lesbian crab didn’t receive a bullet to her head to no one’s surprise. What happened to the overarching themes involving forgiveness and mending the wounds of the past to build a better future for everyone resonating with people? Does the Traveler and what it has been representing for 10 years mean nothing when it comes to Eramis? Were we supposed to abandon the power of friendship? Is punishment with no consideration the only way of dealing with those who have committed wrong acts that people know of?