#gong yoo x y/n

[gh0stsp1d3r]

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

game time ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪.

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

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

MASTERLIST

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

At least it pays.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You put your phone down, looking back at him.

“How much time do you have?”

“Three hours.” You sighed out.

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

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

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

He spoke incoherently, toothpaste still in his mouth.

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

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

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

He wiggled his eyebrows, “I look silly?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Work, mostly. Just to distract myself.”

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

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

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

“You know he wouldn’t like that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[just1cefor4ll]

Summer Days

summary. you get hired as Gong Yoo’s personal photographer as a summer job— however things change once he starts catching feelings for his little paparazzi.

warning. photos might not correspond with the set season or place, some pictures may not be exactly of Gong Yoo but they are meant to be him so just imagine it being him, not proof read, mentions of reader growing up in Seoul but no specific skin colour, ethnicity or anything like that was mentioned

Email after email… yet none were answered. You were trying to get a job as a photographer for the summer, trying to get out of the house, travel a bit— maybe even meet a few hot celebrities.. and of course get money for your necessities.

You were in your 30s, living in a small apartment in Tokyo which was enough for you alone, but something inside of you wanted a change.

It had been tough, though. In your 30s, living alone in a modest space, the quiet moments often stretched too long. You’d spent countless hours applying for jobs, most with no response, and the few rejections you received stung even worse. Then came the call from your mother.

“Hey, sweetheart. How’s the summer job hunt going?” she asked cheerily, her warmth radiating through the phone. Though you couldn’t see her, you could easily picture her familiar smile. You sighed, massaging your temple. “Mom, I told you yesterday—no one’s answered me yet,” you admitted, the words tasting bitter as they left your mouth. It was embarrassing enough being 37 and struggling to find work, but confessing it to your mother made it even harder. “Oh, right,” she said, not missing a beat. “Don’t worry, honey—they’ll be fighting over you as their photographer in no time!” Her light laugh managed to coax a smile out of you. Somewhere deep in your chest, hope flickered. “Thanks, Mom. I love you,” you said softly. “I love you too, dear. And I’m so, so proud of you.”

The line clicked, leaving you in the stillness of your apartment. You sighed again, though this time there was a glimmer of contentment in it. As much as you missed your family in Seoul, you were determined to make this new life in Japan work.

As if on que, you got an email;

“Miss [Name] [Last Name],

We’ve read through your email and saw the photographs you listed in your portfolio and we’re happy to announce we’d like to have you as a personal photographer for Gong Ji-cheol— or professionally known as Gong Yoo. Please respond as quickly as possible so we can book you a flight to Seol where you’d get picked up. Further information will be given once you arrive.

Kind regards, Management Soop.”

Your jaw dropped. A squeal of excitement erupted before you could stop yourself, and you jumped out of your chair so fast it toppled to the floor. Clutching your chest to steady your racing heart, you took a deep breath and quickly typed out a reply.

What followed was a blur of packing and planning. Before long, you were on a plane back to Seoul, staring out the window with a small, satisfied smile.

yn.photographs

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yn.ph0tographs Guess who’s in Seol .. YAYYDYHDS

486 commented

annacathcart have a safe trip girl!!

nonamee WHATTT

user67464483929 cant wait for whatever new you capture<3

The car stopped in front of a tall apartment building. A man from Management Soop—your temporary manager—led you inside and handed you a set of keys. “This will be your home for the time you’ll be working for us. Unpack and get some rest. Be ready by 5 AM tomorrow— I’ll explain everything then so meet me in the lobby on time.”

And with a snap of your fingers; the next morning came— “Yes, you heard correctly— we’re going to Jeju.” The manager said with a sigh before chuckling at your enthusiasm. “Come on now we’ll miss the plane.” “Will Gong Yoo be meeting us there?” You asked with curiosity, getting a simple nod as your response.

When you finally arrived on Jeju Island, the sea breeze kissed your skin, and the scenery was as breathtaking as you’d imagined. You caught a glimpse of Gong Yoo from afar but there was no chance to speak to him yet. You all settled in a cabin, large enough for everyone— and your equipment which was off to a great start in your book. Your room was right across from the manager while Gong Yoo was upstairs. It was cozy, and you couldn’t wait to spend the week there.

As the evening rolled in, everyone gathered for a brief meeting. Gong Yoo finally joined the group, descending the staircase with an air of effortless charm. When his gaze landed on you, he offered a small but genuine smile. “You must be our photographer,” he said, his deep voice smoother than you expected. You nodded, suddenly aware of how dry your throat felt. “Yes. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you managed to say, giving a small bow. He chuckled softly. “Likewise. I hope you’re ready for some early mornings and long hikes.” You smiled back, the initial nerves giving way to excitement. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

gongyoo_official

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gongyoo_official📍Jeju Island

268K commented

gongyoostan who dat in the baaack (behind the camera)

╰┈➤ management.soop replied Gong Yoo’s new personal photographer— every picture taken during summer time is taken by @.yn.phot0graphs :)

╰┈➤ yn.phot0graphs replied ME ME ME i mean hi I’m the new photographer of the team :3

The manager clapped his hands, drawing everyone’s attention. “Alright, team. Tomorrow’s itinerary is packed. We’ll start before sunrise to catch the golden hour at Hamdeok beach. It’s going to be a long day, so get plenty of rest tonight.”

As everyone dispersed, you lingered by the window, gazing out at the moonlit landscape. The faint hum of conversation drifted from the kitchen, where Gong Yoo and the manager were chatting over tea. It felt surreal, being in the midst of all this, on the cusp of a week that could change your life.

The next morning, your alarm blared at 4:00 AM. Groggily, you got dressed and grabbed your gear, double-checking everything before heading downstairs. Gong Yoo was already there, sipping coffee and looking impossibly awake for such an early hour. He glanced at you and smiled. “Morning,” he said. “Morning,” you replied, suppressing a yawn. The team piled into a van, driving through the dark until you reached your destination. By the time you arrived, the sky was beginning to blush with hints of orange and gold. You quickly set up your equipment, the cool morning air sharp against your skin.

Gong Yoo stood a few meters away, gazing at the horizon. You took a moment to frame the shot: the rising sun casting a warm glow, and Gong Yoo, serene and reflective, perfectly positioned.

It was the first of many photos that day, but something about that moment felt special—like the beginning of something extraordinary.

yn.ph0tographs

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yn.ph0tographs first day on the job :0

387 commented

gongyoo_official so talented!

╰┈➤ iloveyn replied OFC SHE IS???

╰┈➤ yn.ph0tographs replied haha thank you :)

gongyoo_official

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389K commented

The week went by quite fast— you got to know Gong Yoo a bit more and by the end of the week, he handed you his contact information with a casual, “In case we need to coordinate anything later.” You’d tried to play it cool, but the excitement bubbled just beneath the surface.

Now, you found yourself on a flight to Paris—your next assignment. It sounded glamorous on paper, but arriving during peak tourist season turned the dream into a mixed bag. The streets were packed, the lines stretched endlessly, and the prices soared. Still, you couldn’t deny the thrill of being in the city of lights. The view however was nice. You could see the Eiffel tower from your window but it wasn’t necessarily close. Maybe a 45 minute walk?

Gong Yoo’s room was just down the hall. He knocked lightly on your door shortly after you’d settled in. “You should see the view from the rooftop,” he said with a small smile. “Better than this?” you teased, gesturing toward your window. “Trust me.”

You grabbed your camera and followed him up the narrow staircase to the rooftop. He wasn’t wrong—the view was breathtaking. “I see why they call it the City of Lights,” you murmured, framing the scene through your lens. Gong Yoo leaned on the railing beside you, his expression thoughtful. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Makes you forget about the crowds for a moment.”

You nodded, snapping a few more photos before lowering your camera. “How are you not completely overwhelmed by all this? The constant traveling, the attention, the schedule... doesn’t it ever get to you?���He chuckled softly. “It does. But moments like this make it worth it. I get to slow down, even if just for a little while.” The two of you stood in companionable silence for a while, the cool Parisian breeze brushing past. It wasn’t often you got moments like this—peaceful and unhurried, shared with someone who seemed to understand the value of it.

The next day would bring more tourists, more shoots, and more challenges. But for now, standing on that rooftop with the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the distance, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

gongyoo_official

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gongyoo_official ❤��

422K commented

yn.ph0tographs

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yn.ph0tographs a dream come true!! hello Paris<3

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After a chaotic week in Paris filled with photo shoots at iconic landmarks, decadent pastries, and navigating swarms of tourists, the next stop on the list brought you back to familiar ground: Japan.

The flight landed smoothly, and soon enough, you were settled into a traditional house/hotel in Kyoto. Unlike Tokyo, Kyoto exuded a serene charm with its ancient temples, lush gardens, and calmer streets. Your room overlooked a tranquil koi pond, and the moment you stepped out into the gardens, the soft sound of flowing water seemed to wash away the exhaustion from Paris.

That evening, the team had dinner at a traditional ryokan, complete with tatami mats and kaiseki cuisine. Gong Yoo seemed to relish the slower pace, admiring the peaceful surroundings. “This feels like a reset,” he said during dinner, glancing at you across the low table. You nodded, setting down your chopsticks. “Kyoto has that effect. It’s hard to feel stressed when everything around you feels so timeless.”

The next day, your work began. Kyoto offered an entirely different aesthetic to capture—one steeped in history and natural beauty. The golden pavilion of Kinkaku-ji, the endless red torii gates of Fushimi Inari Shrine, and many more beautiful landmarks.

At one point, you found yourself photographing Gong Yoo at Arashiyama’s bamboo grove. The towering stalks of green stretched high above, creating a natural cathedral of light and shadows. You snapped a candid shot just as he glanced over his shoulder, the light catching his profile perfectly.

“That was a good one, wasn’t it?” he asked after the click, his lips curling into a knowing smile. You grinned, reviewing the image on your camera’s screen. “You’re a natural, Gong Yoo.” “Well, I’ve had some practice,” he teased, his tone light.

On your final evening in Kyoto, the team gathered on a rooftop overlooking the city. Lanterns glowed softly, and the distant hum of cicadas filled the air. Gong Yoo joined you as you leaned on the railing, your camera resting by your side.

“Thanks for making me look good,” he said, his voice warm. You laughed softly. “You make my job easy.” He tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “I think you see more than most people. Not just with the camera, but... you notice things others might overlook.”

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Instead, you simply smiled, letting the quiet between you speak volumes.

gongyoo_official

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gongyoo_official tagged @.yn.ph0tographs

300K commented

gongyooswife meow

ynstan mother is back home YAYAYAY

╰┈➤ yn.ph0tographs replied daddy’s home…

╰┈➤ ynstan replied ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

yn.ph0tographs

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yn.ph0tographs Home sweet home<3

tagged: @.gongyoo_official

17K commented

megumijjk we missed you :(((

user77636338902 gtfo

╰┈➤ yn.ph0tographs replied get a job or smth dude

╰┈➤ user77636338902 replied OMG Y/N IM SUCH A BIG FAN

╰┈➤ thanosxfork replied the switch up is crazy

Weeks passed and your camera only got fuller and fuller as you captured the most exotic and beautiful shots in places like Croatia— the rocky beaches along with the wonderful clear water of the sea enchanting you with its charm.

One day, the team arranged for a shoot on Lokrum Island, just a short boat ride from Dubrovnik. The beaches and lush greenery provided the perfect backdrop for the shoot. After the shoot, while the team packed up, Gong Yoo approached you, holding two gelatos he’d somehow managed to grab from a vendor on the island.

“Peace offering,” he said with a grin, handing you one. “For what?” You laughed as you accepted the gift. “For making you work so hard in this heat,” he said, gesturing toward your camera. “You deserve a break.” The two of you sat by the water’s edge, the sound of waves lapping against the rocks filling the air. He shared stories of his childhood summers by the beach, and you found yourself opening up about your family vacations around Korea.

By the time the boat returned to take the team back, you felt a warmth in your chest that had little to do with the sun.

Then came California. It was a blur of palm trees, coastal highways, and the vibrant energy of Hollywood. The team spent most of the time in Los Angeles, but the highlight was a road trip to Big Sur for a shoot along the rugged coastline.

One evening, after a sunset shoot by the cliffs, the two of you lingered while the rest of the team headed back to the lodge. The Pacific stretched endlessly before you, the waves crashing below in a soothing rhythm.

“You’ve been quiet today,” he said, glancing at you. “Just taking it all in,” you replied, raising your camera to snap a candid shot of him against the fading light. “I’m still not used to the sudden moving around every two weeks.. I’ve never traveled this far before.” You said as you looked through the days pictures.

He smirked. “Do I look that interesting?” You lowered the camera, meeting his gaze. “More than you realize.”

The vulnerability in your tone seemed to catch him off guard, and for a moment, the only sound was the wind rustling through the grass. Then he smiled—a soft, almost shy expression you saw many times before in your time as his photographer.

The Netherlands was the final destination, and Amsterdam was as picturesque as the postcards promised. The cobblestone streets, the narrow houses leaning toward the canals, and the fields of tulips outside the city made every corner feel like a story waiting to be told.

The two of you wandered into a quiet tulip field after a morning shoot. The colors were mesmerising, rows of red, yellow, and purple stretching endlessly.

“Now you’re the one being unusually quiet.” You said, elbowing him playfully.He looked at you, his hands tucked into his pockets. “I was just thinking about how much this summer has changed me. I thought this would just be another job, but...” He trailed off, then added softly, “I think I’ll miss this.”

“What, the traveling?” you teased lightly, though his tone had made your heart skip a beat. “No,” he said, his eyes locking with yours. “This. You. I think I’ve never really enjoyed a work trip as much as this one.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. His eyes traveled up and down— as if he was studying you; maybe even admiring you. He took a step closer, looking down at you with a sort of vulnerability you haven’t seen before even during your late night talks where you practically spilled your life out to him; but that didn’t really mean anything, did it?

“Well, at least you’ll have the photos to remember it all.” His smile was bittersweet as he looked away, his gaze settling on the endless tulips. “Yeah. But I don’t think the photos will ever capture it completely.”

gongyoo_official

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gongyoo_official last days of the summer spent in the netherlands ❤️

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September was just a week away, the time passed quite fast and so the team organised a farewell dinner which you didn’t really want to attend; partially because you didn’t want to say goodbye to this job.

You stepped out of the restaurant with a bitter look on your face, sitting down on a bench with a view of the river flowing through the streets with couples in love getting a tour on one of the many boats you saw that day. You fiddled with the camera in your hand, looking down and going through the thousands of pictures that had made their way into your heart.

“Mind if I join you?” A voice startled you, but of course you recognised where it came from. You nodded, and he sat down beside you, the space between you barely noticeable.

“I don’t know how to say this without sounding ridiculous,” he began, his eyes fixed on the canal. “But I don’t think I can go back to how things were before this summer. You’ve changed the way I see things—the way I see myself.”

You turned to him, your breath catching at the raw sincerity in his voice. “[Name], I don’t know what this is, but I know it’s real. And I don’t want it to end just because the summer is over.” Your heart raced, his words sinking in like a tide rising to meet the shore. Slowly, you reached for his hand, your fingers brushing against his. “Maybe it doesn’t have to,” you said softly. He smiled, intertwining your fingers with his as he pulled you into his shoulder, resting your head on it.

As the lanterns cast their warm glow over the water, the two of you sat in quiet understanding, the promise of something more lingering in the air. Summer may have ended, but you knew you weren’t leaving this job that easily.

gongyoo_official posted to their story

© just1cefor4all— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms or fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

[aikonaishaa]

Since Gong Yoo's gaining popularity again can we please please please get more coffee prince fics of him I NEED my man CHOI HAN-KYULLL

[vrystalius]

Not saying “I love you“ back to the Squid game men.

How will they react if you don‘t say it back? In what scenario would they not say it back to you?

Pairing: The Recruiter, Thanos, Nam-gyu, Dae-ho, Gi-hun, In-ho x gn!reader

Summary: Them not saying “I love you“, their reaction to you not saying “I love you“

Genre: fluff, a lil bit of angst sprinkled on top

If you’re interested, here’s more fluff! Calling the Squid Game men some weird petnames and their reaction to it!

(Pre-Squid game)

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

Gong Yoo // The Recruiter // The Salesman

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It barely ever happens, really. He adores everything about you, from your face, voice, body and the ground you walk on; that man is ready to worship you like a devoted follower would to the most merciful goddess. Therefor he would always be aware of how to make your day a little better, even if it‘s just a small “I love you” or a gentle kiss here and there.

The first thing you hear from him in the morning is a groggy voice mumbling a small “Good morning love...” into your ear while warm kisses were trailed down your back.

While standing in the kitchen and searching the fridge for any signs of a tasty breakfast, a small “I love you, I‘ll be back later!“ would echo slightly through the apartment as the front door closed.

Once, he did forget to say his usual I love you on the way out. He thought about how he possibly could forget? You‘re probably overthinking everything now and think what you might‘ve done wrong or do to offend him. You didn‘t, though! He was just too caught up in perfecting his appearance because his damn hair refused to obey and submit to his meticulous styling.

The poor man was almost scared to come home. As some sort of peace offering, he bought some of your favorite take-out food alongside some dessert, flowers and a new bracelet he thought you might like. Anything to try and make you know that he does really love you.

“Apologies, it completely slipped my mind. It will never happen again my sunshine. I love you.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

His face may be neutral and his expressions calculated but his features soften up immensely when you show even an ounce of affection. His smirk shifts into a dreamy smile, the crinkles around his mouth shifting and becoming bigger, his eyes twinkling just a little. He just can’t suppress when you even look at him.

Your kisses and words energise him, gift him life, so whenever you don’t give him that little boost of dopamine, he gets visibly more tense in a way.

The silence that followed after his usual “I love you my darling, I’ll be back later!” was almost eerie to him. He stuck his head back into the kitchen to check if you even heard him. You glanced back at him for a moment and gave your husband a dismissive head nod. So you did hear him?

Silently, he left the apartment and went on with his usual day during that time of the year. For some reason, today he is especially looking forward to slap his elders for loosing a damn children’s game. His face remained neutral and had his usual smirk on his face, but deep inside, he’s offended, confused, worried, stressed; all the negative emotions someone can feel after their spouse doesn’t reincorporate ones affection.

Do you want a divorce? Because hell no, he’d never let you go no matter how hard you

But once he got a little text message on his phone that read a simple: “Need cuddles in bed later pls. Got some snacks too. Love you.”, all of his worries washed away in an instant. You probably were still too sleepy to answer this morning.

A smile spread over his face as he thought about slipping into your arms tonight. Isn’t it ridiculous how he melt like putty in your hands?

“You forgot something this morning and it did worry me a lot. But it doesn’t matter, it’s silly anyway.”

Thanos // Su-bong // Player 230

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It’s actually quite rare to hear Thanos say “I love you” word for word. He still feels awkward committing himself to the relationship you have and those three magic words feel so heavy on his tongue, so he’ll rephrase them to suit his level of comfort. “Love ya”, “Thanos loves you” and “Me too” are his ways to dodge the action to reincorporate those sweets words you shower him with.

Thanos only really says “I love you” if you two are alone, sober and you holding him in your arms. To be cradled by someone he admires, cares and loves so much makes him want to cry for some reason, but he suppresses those emotions and instead buries his face in your shoulder as your hand soothingly runs up and down his back.

Those are the times you hear a small “I love you…” being mumbled against your warm skin.

So quiet it’s almost unnoticeable, yet it was there. You know Su-bong needs time to get used to everything, so you’ll settle with a small audio message-rap in reply to your usual “I love you” text message.

“Back to the kitty ‘cause she kinda pretty, I can’t stop looking at her ti- ti- ti-face.. Anyways, thinking of you babygirl. Iloveyatoo.” (You barely caught him saying this the way how quietly he mumbled it into the mic)

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

It’s fine. It’s cool. You don’t have to reassure him every day that you love him, it’s totally fine. You still love him like you did the day before.

It causes a deep panic inside of Thanos when you don’t give him his usual “I love you” text in the morning after he had woken up. He kept checking his phone like a madman, while he was brushing his teeth, peeking his arm and head out of the shower in the middle of shampooing, staring at his text messages while microwaving himself an convenience store meal. Nothing.

Not wanting to reach out first and appear clingy, he decided to write you like he is not having a full blown eternal panic attack. A small voice message here, a picture of his food there, a selfie from the bottom to show off his double chin, anything really.

You replied like normal but still, his eyes searched for the three key words. I. Love. You.

Thanos doesn’t want to admit to himself or to anyone for that matter that your calls, texts, hell, you coming over is like the most addictive drug to him. And he had his share of all kinds of colourful drugs.

His foot was nervously tapping the ground while his finger kept ringing your poor doorbell until you were forced to answer. He gave you a close look up and down, his lips formed into a pout of sorts.

“You okay? You didn’t text me you love me this morning. It’s totally cool and all but like… do you want to break up with me or something?”

Nam-gyu // Player 124

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Similar to Thanos, at first, Nam-gyu barely ever told you how much he loved you, liked you even. He just assumed you already knew and his actions were enough. A small side hug there and ruffling your hair here had to be enough for the rest of the week anyway.

He is guarded, afraid of commitment and to be frank in belief that you’re using him for the longest of time. Maybe you’re just “dating” him to get access to high-end drugs, all kinds of clubs or whatever else reason there is there to date him but for love.

You had to say those three magic words first for him to get comfortable with the thought that you are actually just want to date and love him. It came to him in the middle of a night shift at a random club he was supposed to promote. A moment of enlightenment.

Nam-gyu hid in a bathroom stall with his phone and ignored whatever the couple was doing next door, writing you a whole paragraph about what he was thinking, feeling, before deleting everything again because he thought he’d come off as some kind of pussy if he’d sent that.

His first time telling you how much he loved you was at your place. A casual evening watching some random movie you picked out while being arms deep in a bag of chips and dressed like a homeless person, Nam-gyu was staring up at you as if you were the most beautiful person in the universe even during this ungraceful moment of yours, admiring you in silence until finally…

“I love you.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you…

Did he fuck up again? Do or say something wrong? Don’t you love him anymore? Was there someone else?? His thoughts go ballistic as he stared at the screen of his phone with a deadpan-expression, trying to shake the crippling fear and nervousness off while looking nonchalant.

Nam-gyu’s finger kept hovering over the call button to check on you in case something happened because there could be a whole other person talking to him by how there were no affirmations at all.

He doesn’t want to appear clingy or too attached to you as that may scare you off or even disgust you, so Nam-gyu’s casually mention that one time you didn’t say “I love you” while fidgeting with his ring, trying to appear indifferent about it while intensely watching your facial expression shift to try and detect if you’re lying about your reasoning or not.

Your boyfriend is afraid to not be good enough, too much, too little. Your little affirmations give him reassurance, every day a little more until he’s full convinced that you do really, really love him.

“Hey, uhhh. Did you forget anything today?… No? You sure? Mkay.”

Dae-ho // Player 388

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Never happens. Either he is dead and not able to reply to you or already said it multiple times throughout the day. Dae-ho has separation anxiety and gets nervous when he doesn’t have you in line of his sight or not around him in general, that’s why he always tells you how much he loves you whenever he can.

Off to the bathroom? I love you. Bringing the trash out? I love you. Getting dressed? You’re gorgeous and I love you. You could be simply existing and Dae-ho would bury his face in your neck and mumble a soft I love you into your warm skin, his lips planting a soft kiss here and there.

Dae-ho is just a little scared about saying his usual affirmation in front of his family, mostly his father. He’s a very affectionate and physical man but he still wants to look like the tough-marine-son his dad wants to see.

His sisters know better though, they see how their brother’s eyes twinkle in delight when you help his mom out in the kitchen with the dinner.

He does make it up to you after coming home though. Your boyfriend will stuff the leftovers his mom gave him into the microwave and usher to you made yourself comfortable on the couch while he makes some preparations to completely pamper you for the rest of the evening.

Sometimes Dae-ho’ll even try to flirt a little but he’s still a little awkward in that department.

“Hey, do you want some snacks with that? A drink? O-Or am I enough of a snack…?”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you…

Every time Dae-ho tells you that he loves you, you always reply with equal enthusiasm. How could you not? That golden retriever of a man gets that almost childish smile of his whenever you kiss his cheek or just tell him that he looks handsome today.

Once, you tested how he’d react when you don’t give him his hourly dose of dopamine by deflecting or ignoring his touches.

As his arms securely snaked around your waist and gently pulled you against his torso, you paid him no mind and continued to stir the ramen in the food container. He watched the noodles move in circles and gave your waist a gentle poke, trying to pull your attention to him. Dae-ho’s eyes slowly dimmed and the edges of his smile turned downwards.

The silence made him seriously nervous. You could feel his rapidly increasing heartbeat drum against your back.

“Hey… is everything okay? Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry. Can you talk to me?…”

Gi-hun // Player 456 (post s1)

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Gi-hun always reassures you of his love, even during arguments. He wants you to know that he cherishes and loves you for the rest of his life and that you are his everything. Whenever he doesn’t say I love you, something must’ve happened.

He has been missing for a whole week and you had no idea where your boyfriend went. Gi-hun didn’t leave a note, a voice mail, no nothing!

And after he returned and suddenly began giving you expensive gifts, the same boyfriend that used to ask you for money to get himself an convenience store dinner, now began buying you new headphones, bracelet and whatever else you even eyed.

It was nice, sure, but you were more worried about his mental state. He was paranoid and quiet, kept checking his whole body for some kind of tracker and barely ever spoke what was on his mind. Gi-hun began having panic attacks and you were barely able to leave his side because of how terrified he was to leave you alone.

He barely touched you, gave you kisses or affection. He changed after whatever happened during that week he went missing.

While running your fingers through his hair, trying to make him fall asleep after being awake for two days straight, he sleepily stared up at you through his dyed-red hair. His voice was quiet, broken almost.

“I’m sorry. Please… know that I love you. I love you so much.. Don’t leave me, please… please...”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

Your boyfriend called out to you but you didn’t quite hear what he said, so you replied with an “yeah!” and just hoped that that’s an appropriate response to whatever he tried to tell or ask you. It wasn’t.

Gi-hun stood there for a couple of moments, waiting on your reply to yelling “I love you!” across the whole apartment. When nothing came, he didn’t call out to you again. You were probably busy with something or don’t want him with your right now, he gets that.

Later though, thoughts of self-doubt began to cook up inside his mind. As he bit all his nails to shreds he overthought about how you had enough of him now. Maybe you are falling out of love now after how the death games fucked up his mind and body. You’re surely fed up with his paranoia and secretive behaviour, how much he has been obsession over finding a weird salesman. Surely.

The metallic taste that spread inside his mouth after biting the skin surrounding his nails began to open and bleed finally pulled Gi-hun out of his self-destructive thoughts that continued to circle like a toy train. Picking up his throwaway phone and choosing the one contact he saved on every single burner phone he had as “Reason to smile ❤️” and pressing the call button.

“Gi-hun? What’s wrong?” Your voice forced a small smile to form on his face. He hesitated

“Hey. Just wanted to ask if I should bring some take out home tonight. That’s all.”

In-ho // The Frontman // Player 001

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It’s purely just to tease you. When bored, In-ho will make you his greatest entertainment.

He likes making you annoyed and flustered, so he’ll intentionally ignore you just to make you react and pout at him adorably while he was trying so hard to keep his stone cold face and not break into a shit-eating grin and maybe even pull on your cheek to make you whine even more.

In-ho adores your whole being and cherishes all of your affections, so he’ll let himself get showered in them any tome he can.

Expect you to he cuddled up on his lap while he was leaning back in the leather chair, mumbling a complaint about how you covered his whole face in kisses but managed to miss the bridge of his nose. He will not allow you to move off his lap until you covered his whole face in kisses again as compensation for that mistake of yours.

So, In-ho’ll intentionally not give you affection so you pay even more attention to him. He is like a cat in that way weirdly enough.

Once you finally break his facade, the flood gates will open and you will be showered, bathed, drowned in his affection, physical and verbal.

“Fine. I’ll say it just because you’ve been so good to me today. I love you, my dearest, lovely darling.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

In-ho has a dedicated frequency on his walkie-talkie for you, so he can call in and ask you to come to his office for a kiss that cannot wait, to inform you that he is in the bedroom and retiring for the day or just to tell you that he loves you randomly throughout the day.

Of course, you’d always reply back with your own gadget, but to pay back his infinite teasing he has done to you, you decided to ignore him the way he sometimes does to you. Payback.

Your husband called into your frequency. “Dove, are you free right now? Come to my office, I miss you.” and so your game begins. You simply ignored his request and continued getting comfortable in your bed and all the sheets surrounding you, grinning to yourself as you awaited the next time In-ho calls in again, for which you don’t have to wait long for.

“Darling, I am waiting. Do you want me to send someone to pick you up?” Your grin widened as you heard how impatient he was slowly getting with the lack of your response. “I can see you in the bedroom.” That one caught you off guard. Did he install cameras in your shared bedroom??

Almost on cue, your bedroom door opened, revealing the masked Frontman. His shoulders were tense and you could feel his intense state through the mask. You stared back, not expecting how quickly your husband would cave in and visit you himself. Innocently, you batted your lashes at him.

In-ho slipped his mask off and carelessly tossed it on the nightstand. “Why are you ignoring me? Are you upset or just moody?” Unimpressed, you silently glared at him. He gave you an equally uninterested look and leaned down to your face to give you a small peck on your cheek. “Not enough. More.”

A chuckle escaped his lips as his lips cracked into a smile.

“Demanding, aren’t we? Fine. As you wish.”

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading <3

Watch me announce that I’m going to post In-ho’s yandere profile and proceed to get hit with the most ungodly group-assignment in Chemistry. Anyways, take this as an apology! Had to write a little fluff for them since the only thing I’m finding is smut 🙏😭 I’m not complaining but this fluff prompt came to me like a truck during a class of mine. It was originally inspired by this post and I made a similar one before for the Demon Slayer hashira. Check it out if you’re interested!!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

[greengoblinswifey]

The Offer—Salesman x Fem!Reader

summary— After an encounter with the mysterious and dangerously charming salesman, you find yourself drawn to him and what begins as a simple game quickly escalates when he offers you a deal outside the Squid Game. based on this request.

warnings— sugar baby undertones, praise kink, fingering, oral(f!receiving), body worship, ass slapping, choking, unprotected sex, creampie.

The subway station felt like a dull hum in the background as you sat on a hard bench, looking at your phone. The notification from your bank app stared back at you, a harsh reminder of your poor spending choices. Shopping sprees, credit card bills, and an insurmountable amount of student loan debt weighed on you. You sighed, barely noticing the man who had taken a seat next to you until he cleared his throat.

“Rough day?” a deep, smooth voice said.

You glanced up, and your breath caught in your throat. The man was striking, his tailored suit fit perfectly, his features sharp and symmetrical, with a mischievous glint in his eyes that sent a spark of unease and intrigue down your spine.

“Uh, yeah, you could say that,” you muttered, looking away as you grew flustered.

He chuckled softly. “Well, I can help,” he said, pulling out a neat red envelope from his briefcase. “How about a game?”

“A game?” You frowned, wary but unable to deny the curiosity bubbling inside you.

He opened the envelope, revealing a stack of blue and red tiles. “Ddakji,” he explained, holding up one of the tiles. “We take turns throwing the tile to flip the other. You win, you get 100,000 won each time. You lose,” his smile widened. “I get to slap you.”

Your stomach churned at the proposal, but the thought of cash was too enticing to ignore. “Whatever,” you said, your voice shaky but firm.

The first few rounds were a blur. He was calm, composed, and terrifyingly skilled. You, on the other hand, had no idea what you were doing, your tile landing uselessly each time.

“Not your game, is it?” he teased after you failed again.

“Nah,” you replied.

He leaned closer, and you smelled his cologne, subtle but intoxicating. Instead of raising his hand to deliver the promised slap, he surprised you by tucking the envelope into your hands.

“Here,” he said, his voice low and warm. “Take my card instead.”

You blinked, staring at the card he offered. It was embossed with a phone number and a strange symbol. “What’s this?”

“For something bigger than a subway game,” he replied. His hand lingered for a moment on yours as he added, “How about I come over, and we talk a bit more? About the game, the prize, and— possibilities.”

Your heart raced as you nodded.

You led him to your apartment, your nerves heightened by his presence. He seemed so calm and confident, while you felt like a mess. Inside, he leaned against your kitchen counter, his jacket now draped over the back of a chair.

“You’re nervous,” he said, his lips curving into a small smile.

“Not nervous,” you lied, but your trembling hands gave you away.

He chuckled, taking a step closer. “You’re interesting. Most people I approach don’t look at me the way you do.”

“And how’s that?” you asked, swallowing hard.

“Like you’re trying to figure me out,” he said, his voice sending a shiver through you.

“Maybe I am,” you admitted, clutching the card tightly.

“Good,” he murmured. “Keep that curiosity. It might take you further than you think.”

You weren’t sure if it was a warning or what, but you couldn’t deny the way his presence filled the room, leaving you breathless and wanting to know more.

“You’ve got a fire in you. I like that.” His voice softened as he added, “But you don’t need to play any games to fix your problems.”

Your brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I could take care of you,” he said simply. He stepped even closer, the space between you closing to almost nothing. “You wouldn’t have to worry about loans, bills—anything. We could come to an arrangement.”

You blinked up at him, your heart racing. “An arrangement?”

“You’d be surprised what I’m capable of.” He reached out, brushing a stray hair from your face, his fingers lingering near your jaw. “I can take care of you in more ways than one.”

The way he said it sent heat through you. His gaze dipped to your lips again, and you found yourself leaning into his presence without even realizing it. “I’m down for that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower. He tilted his head, his face now inches from yours. “Because I think you’ve needed someone to take care of you for a long time.”

Before you could respond, his lips captured yours, unhurried, testing the waters. The kiss deepened quickly, fueled by what had been building between you since he first approached you.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as his tongue teased yours, earning a soft gasp. He took the opportunity to lift you effortlessly onto the kitchen counter, his hands warm and steady against your ass.

“You’re something else,” he said against your lips, his breath hot as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. His thumb brushed over your cheek, and for a moment, the intensity softened into something almost tender.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckled, his forehead resting against yours. “This could be the start of something very interesting.”

And boy, you couldn’t help but agree. The kiss reignited, deeper and hotter than before. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him on the counter. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of something warm and spicy made your head swim.

“You smell incredible,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough. He pressed his nose to the curve of your neck, inhaling deeply as his lips ghosted over your skin. “Too good, really. Makes me wonder if you’re even real.”

Heat spread through your cheeks, but his words lit something inside you. “I think you’re the one who’s too good to be real,” you teased back.

“Flattery, huh? I like that. But don’t think for a second I don’t see through you.” His hand slid up your thigh, his touch warm. “You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he silenced you with another kiss, his teeth gently tugging at your bottom lip before pulling back to study your reaction. “No need to lie, sweetheart. I know.”

His hand ventured lower, fingers brushing over the fabric of your skirt, and he hesitated, his eyes meeting yours. “Is this okay?” he asked softly, his tone serious, despite the fire burning in his gaze.

Instead of answering, you bucked your hips into his touch instinctively, a soft gasp escaping your lips. The corner of his mouth lifted in approval. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered.

His fingers worked, finding your dripping pussy and working their magic, skilled and precise. You couldn’t help but arch into him, your head falling back against the cabinet. “Look at me,” he commanded gently, one hand cupping your jaw to bring your gaze back to his. “I want to see those pretty eyes.”

You obeyed, locking eyes with him as his fingers thrusting inside you intensified, his thumb brushing over your cheek when you whimpered softly. “That’s it,” he said, “You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t form words, only nodding as waves of pleasure rolled through you. His digits curled expertly inside you, thrusting against that spongy spot that made your breath catch and your pussy throb. You thrashed and moaned, feeling practically possessed by pleasure. God, you really did need this. He probably thought you were a desperate slut. His thumb tilted your chin up slightly. “Say it,” he murmured, his tone coaxing. “Tell me.”

“Yes,” you managed, your voice shaky. “Yes, I’m—I’m your good girl.”

His grin widened. “That’s my girl.”

Your hand gripped his muscular bicep as he stared down at you, the moment so intimate. Eyes locked on yours, two finger buried inside your pussy and a thumb rubbing your clit, giving you more pleasure your little fingers could ever manage to. Saving money had prevented you from even thinking of buying a vibrator. Soft moans left your lips as he rubbed rough circles on your bundle of nerves, your pussy clenching around nothing before he plunged his fingers back inside you. He thrusted roughly and you couldn’t help but clamp around him.

When the tension inside you reached its peak, he leaned closer, his lips grazing your ear. “Cum for me. Right here, right now. I want to see you fucking cum.”

And you did, trembling against him as his fingers pushed you over the edge, your breaths coming out in stuttering gasps. His praises washed over you as he held you steady, his grip comforting.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Absolutely beautiful.”

You stayed like that for a moment, letting the quiet hum of the room wrap around you as you caught your breath.

The heat between you both heightened as his lips trailed down your neck softly. His hands gripped your waist firmly, pulling you closer on the counter. He paused, meeting your gaze with a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’re addictive,” he murmured, voice rich and low. “I want to taste every part of you.”

Your breath hitched as he dropped to his knees, his hands steady on your thighs. “Can I taste you?” he asked, his tone sincere despite the hunger in his eyes.

You nodded, words escaping you entirely. His smirk deepened as he guided your legs apart, his lips brushing your inner thigh. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered, his voice soft. “And all mine.”

His tongue explored every inch of you, licking from your pelvis, then down to your clit. His focus on your clit, slurping and flicking it made your toes curl and your legs clamp around his head. He chuckled deeply, the sound sending vibrations through your body and he pried your legs open, continuing his feast.

“I’ve never seen anyone as stunning as you,” he said. “Let me take care of you.”

Each kiss on your clit and touch over your thighs sent sparks through you, and you couldn’t help the soft moans escaping your lips. He looked up, his eyes dark. “I want to hear you,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear how good it feels.”

You moaned loudly, your voice trembling with emotion. “That’s my good girl,” he said. “So beautiful, my perfect girl.”

As he continued to worship you, every lick and word worked together, unraveling you completely. When you finally came, trembling with his mouth on your pussy, he held your gaze, his expression softening as he spoke.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to your clit. “Don’t forget that.”

When you came down from your high, he stood, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re everything I need,” he said softly, his forehead resting against yours.

His hands gripped your hips as he lifted you slightly, settling you more securely on the counter. The warmth of his hard cock pressed against your pussy sent shivers down your spine, but his lips found yours again, slow and tender.

“Relax,” he murmured, “I’ve got you, baby.”

You exhaled shakily as he freed his hard cock moving closer. He dragged the thick, leaking tip along your folds before slowly inching inside your tight pussy. His forehead rested against yours for a brief moment, giving you time to adjust to his size. His hands were steady on your waist, his thrusts careful and slow. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft, his eyes searching yours.

“Yes,” you whispered, and he smiled.

“Good,” he said, his lips capturing yours again, deeper this time. “I’ll take care of you, always.”

The praise flowed from him effortlessly as he began pounding into you. “You’re so perfect,” he murmured against your neck, his lips trailing kisses along your skin. “So good for me. Taking my cock so well.”

Your hands tangled in his dark hair as you tilted your head back. His pace shifted, repeatedly slamming against the sweet spot inside you and his lips found yours once more. “Cum on my cock,” he said, his forehead pressed to yours. “I’ve got you. Just cum for me.”

You gripped his bicep, your pussy responding to his words as your juices soaked his cock inside you. He held you steady, his praises unrelenting. “That’s it,” he whispered, brushing a kiss to your temple. “You’re incredible, such a good girl for me.”

The moment lingered, but you didn’t let it fade completely. Instead, your shaky hands found his, as he helped you off the counter and his lips captured yours again. You guided him toward your bedroom, the two of you stumbling slightly as you moved.

“You’re mine,” he murmured between kisses, his words muffled but filled with conviction. “No one else gets you like this.”

The bedroom door swung open, and he didn’t hesitate, his hands finding your waist again as he backed you toward the bed. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he muttered in awe.

You moved onto your hands and knees, adjusting until your back arched perfectly, drawing a low hum of approval from him.

“There we go,” he said, his hand smoothing over the curve of your spine before resting on your hip. “Just like that, absolutely perfect.”

A sharp, playful slap landed on your ass, making you jolt slightly, and he chuckled. “Couldn’t resist,” he teased, his hand soothing over the spot. “You look too good like this.”

He held onto your waist as his cock rested against your pussy. “You’ve got such a gorgeous body,” he murmured, his voice dropping as his hands roamed gently over your ass. “You don’t even realize how stunning you are, do you?”

You felt his gaze on you lingering, as you wiggled onto his cock, “That’s it, bring that ass back just like that for me. You’re so perfect.”

You met his thrusts as he rolled his hips, his cock disappearing inside your pussy. Each time he bottomed out, his cock was covered in your cream.

“Fuck, you’re really enjoying this baby,” he hummed, staring at how wet you got his shaft.

He held you steady, his hands molding to your curves, his cock brushing against your cervix with each thrust, his voice warm as he leaned closer. “You’re incredible,” he said, his breath brushing against your ear. “Every single part of you fucking especially this.” He squeezed your ass gently, his admiration clear.

He placed a soft kiss on the back of your shoulder before wrapping his hand around your neck to bring you closer so you were arching off him. His pace quickened, each thrust deep, as he held you by your neck securely in place. You arched deeper instinctively, your back pressing against his chest, and his breath warmed your ear.

“Let me hear you,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. “Cum for me.”

Your breaths quickened, and you couldn't help the loud moan that escaped you just as he requested. His grip was firm and his words spilled effortlessly, “That’s my good girl. You’re incredible.”

As everything built to a crescendo, you felt yourself shudder. His hand on your throat tightened slightly, steadying you through the moment. The world around you faded, leaving only his cock moving inside you, anchoring you. You were still squirting as he pounded into you and soon, you felt his sticky cum coat your walls.

When it was over, he pulled you close, his lips brushing against your temple. “You’re breathtaking,” he said softly before retreating, leaving you to catch your breath.

Moments later, he appeared with a damp cloth, cleaning you up with a care that seemed to contradict his character. He set it aside, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk that was entirely too charming.

“So,” he said casually, folding his arms, “about those bank account details.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift in tone. He grinned, the shine in his eyes unmistakable.

“Relax,” he added with a soft chuckle, leaning down to brush a lock of hair from your face. “I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”

[saymio]

The Salesman headcanons | (NSFW)

Pairing: The Salesman x Fem!reader

Genre: headcanons, smut

Warning: dead dove do not eat, manipulation, stalking+kidnapping, dub/noncon, DDLG, age gap, might be more but im too lazy to write it down

A/N: not proof read. classes started again so I'm taking longer to write, enjoy my hc's while u wait for a longer fic.

The Salesman, the man that found you sitting on a bench all alone crying in the middle of the night. he couldn't help but feel pity for you, like you were a puppy that was left alone out in the rain.

The Salesman, the man that came home late from doing his usual recruiting, feeling his pants getting tighter and tighter every time he replays your bloodshot eyes and shaky pathetic voice.

The Salesman, the man that decides he wants to stalk your every move after he saw you crying all alone. watching you as you try looking for places that would accept you as a worker, or when you pleasure yourself. watching through your open blinds.

The Salesman, the man that will record you while you change, sleep, and do other things around your house. jerking off to your unsuspected body, who would assume a creep was watching them through their window?

The Salesman, the man that gets front row tickets to your freak out. he sent a couple of photos he took of you sleeping to your phone number and now you're frantically running around the house. locking all your doors, windows and covering any opening you could think of. God, you looked so small and weak when you were scared.

The Salesman, the man that met eyes with you while you stood in front of a brightly lit love motel. his jaw clenching and eyes filled with rage, what were you doing here? its obvious you're a virgin, just one look at you and he could probably recite your entire life story. so why were you trying to meet up with someone here? were you going to fuck a stupid child? a boy your age doesn't know how to make a girl feel good...you need an older man to help you..

The Salesman, the man that had kidnapped you in broad 'daylight'. right infront of the motel, right infront of dozens of cameras. watching you squirming body and tears run down your face..but you cant say a word because you mouth has been duck taped shut.

The Salesman, the man that feels a strong urge to just keep you safe. to protect you from the world and let you stay home to do nothing. And the only way you'll be safe is if you stay with him. forever.

The Salesman, the man that will force you onto his cock with no remorse as you yell in pain. you've never had something this big so it feels like you've been split in half...he loves it. he loves your pain.

The Salesman, the man that will treat you like your a stupid child. petting your head and rubbing your cheek while he slowly explains the rules of the game he wants to play with you. like if he were to speak faster you'd get confused.

The Salesman the man that sets you loose in an abandoned warehouse. telling you if you hide for 2 hours without getting touched you win..and get to go home without any more abuse to your hole.

The Salesman, the man that caught you only 2 minutes before the timer went out. dark eyes piercing into yours as he smiles a creepy wide grin. "caught you~"

The Salesman, the man that enjoys your shaky eyes and rapid breathing when he finds you. he thinks its funny, you probably think he's going to kill you. but he wants to do worse

The Salesman, the man that will tie you up to a large bed. items laid out on a desk next to him...the prize for the salesman when he wins was he gets to pick what he can use on you.. he picked a whip, knife, and..his own dick.

The Salesman, the man that whips your body until youre screaming in pain and begging him to let you go...but he only gets worse as his boner gets more prominent against his slacks.

The Salesman, the man that carves "daddies slut" onto your right thigh. licking the blood that dripped down your thighs as he did so.

The Salesman, the man that will make you call him dad and daddy. he finds it so cute how your little voice says it. like a scared little girl calling out for her dad...

The Salesman, the man that drops you off right where he found you. you just had new bruises and cuts now.

Another note: I hope you guys liked this one hshsh, I'm working on a noeul fic rn. idk when it'll come out doe.. T T T T

TAGLIST: @pollys-doublelife @gongyoosgf

[catchastarorten]

—One more game.

Pairing: the salesman (gong yoo) x winner!fem!reader

Summary: a year after winning your games, an unexpected guest shows up at your door, offering to play one more game of ddakji with you, just for the fun of it, and because you're his favorite winner.

Warnings: mentions of trauma, mentions of blood and gore, violence (basically just you smacking him a lot lol), masochism (<- on him, if you squint really hard?), English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!

Word count: ~ 1k

You almost didn’t answer the door.

It was late—the kind of late where the silence pressed in too close and left you too alone for your thoughts. The rain tapped against the windows felt louder than it should. You hadn’t been expecting anyone. Not anymore, anyways.

Your thoughts drifted to that moment. When you stood on that playground that reflected a childish innocence, yet your hands were trembling, blood drying beneath your nails and painted across your teal uniform, the sound of the final breath and the plea that the other player let out before you swung down the knife with a cold precision that pierced him right through the head. It was over. You won. But it never felt like you were the winner.

The knock had been deliberate, sharp. Three steady raps, not the kind delivered by accident or from someone who might go away if ignored, it broke you out of your haze.

You told yourself you weren’t afraid as you approached, but your heartbeat felt too loud in your ears. Your fingers curled around the lock, hesitating for just a second. Then, you opened it.

And there he was.

The salesman.

You hadn’t seen him since the same rainy day where he found you in the subway station, drenched and cold, in debt—out of money, when he offered to play a simple game of ddakji with you. Not since he handed you a card with a number on the back and disappeared without a trace.

Yet here he stood, wearing the same tailored suit, sharp as ever. His face was unchanged—calm, composed, as if this was just another evening, another game. But it wasn’t.

You could tell by the way his eyes softened the moment they met yours.

He didn’t speak right away. His gaze swept over your face, tracing every detail, as if cataloging how you’d changed. Or maybe searching for the cracks left behind.

Then, his hand lifted.

The red and blue ddakji were already there, pinched between his fingers as though they’d never left. Worn slightly at the edges, but still bold in color. Waiting.

“Care for another game?” His voice was smooth, calm. Too calm.

Your stomach twisted.

The paper. The slap. The start of everything that seemed to haunt you.

It all came back too easily—how the game had started with that simple challenge, the humiliating sting of his palm every time you lost. Until you hadn’t. Until you’d proven you could be a winner, until he handed you that card as a congratulations.

“No.” Your voice came out flat. You started to close the door.

His foot shifted forward, not blocking but close enough that the message was clear: not yet.

“You don’t seem so sure.” His gaze lingered, voice quieter now. More dangerous in its softness. “You’ve played before.”

You swallowed, hating how he made it sound like a compliment. Like something to be proud of.

“I don’t play anymore,” you said, sharper this time.

His lips parted like he might argue, but then—he smiled. It wasn’t smug. Not mocking. Something else entirely. You hated how it made your skin prickle.

His head tilted slightly, fingers flexing around the ddakji. “You won, though. You survived. Out of all of them… you were quite ruthless.”

You shouldn’t have let him say that. But it was too late. Something inside you cracked.

Your hand shot out before you fully registered the movement. A sharp, stinging crack as your palm met his cheek, the impact louder than you expected in the quiet.

He barely moved.

He just stood there, lips parted slightly in surprise. And then—he smiled again, slower this time, his head tipping back, exposing the faint pink blooming across his cheekbone in the dim lights.

It felt less satisfying that he just let the pain settle there.

“There’s that fire,” he said, his voice taunting. “The same fire that got you through the games, that made you kill all those people, hm? I always knew you had it.”

Another slap, harder this time. His head jerked slightly with the force of it, his cheek flushing a deeper red. He exhaled softly, just a breath, but it sounded too much like a gasp, like something he’d been holding back.

And when his eyes met yours again— no smile. Not this time. Just a flicker of something you couldn't understand.

His hand shifted between you, lifting the ddakji slightly as if to remind you why he was here.

“You’ll have to win first,” he said, voice hoarse but playful. “Before you keep doing that.”

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife, the air too still.

You snatched the red ddakji from his hand, the paper crinkling slightly as your fingers curled around it.

The game began like it had before. The slap of paper against the floor. The silence between rounds, broken only by breath and the occasional hiss when a piece landed just wrong.

But it wasn’t like before, not really.

Because you felt his presence too closely now—the way he watched you, not just your hands but your face, your mouth, your eyes. As if he was searching for cracks in your mask.

So you played harder. Sharper.

And then you won.

The blue ddakji flipped with a sharp slap, the smooth side landing face up, and you felt the victory surge in your chest—not just from the game, but because of him.

Your eyes met his, he didn’t speak, didn’t flinch when your palm connected with his face a third time, but this time—his breath hitched. A subtle, almost imperceptible sound, but it was there.

And his gaze? It was the same as before. The same as that first night when he watched you fight for your life with nothing but paper and desperation.

He took a step back, finally breaking the moment. Rain whispered against the window, the only sound in the room now.

He bent down and picked up the red and blue ddakji, stuffing them into his pockets as his smile returned, and you could've sworn you saw a hint of pride in his eyes.

“Still a fighter,” he hummed.

[voxslays]

BELLY BULGE — SQUID GAMES MEN

GONG-YOO (THE SALESMAN)

✮ How many rounds has it been tonight? Your clouded mind can’t even recall. The only thing you can think of is the way Gong Yoo’s hips slam into yours.

✮ The salesman’s perfect hair is unusually messy tonight, soaked with sweat. You cant help but cry into the pillow as he places his hand on your stomach, feeling himself pump in and out of you.

✮ The enigmatic recruiter says nothing as he rams you into the softness of your shared bed. Just a little bit longer, you convince yourself, pleasure clouding your thoughts. Although, you know damn well he could keep going for hours.

✮ “I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.”

THANOS (CHOI SU-BONG)

✮ “Such a pretty flower.” Thanos grunts as he roughly pumps his length in and out of your gummy walls. You couldn’t help but moan at the roughness in his voice.

✮ “Just a bit longer, Señorita.” Is what he had convinced you over forty five minutes ago. You weren’t sure how many more orgasms you could take from him tonight.

✮ Hearing your desperation, Thanos places his hand on your lower stomach and presses in, feeling himself. He groans at the sensation, deciding to pick up more speed. By the time Thanos is done with you, your thoughts are only filled with images of him.

✮ “A little longer, pretty flower.”

KANG DAE-HO

✮ It had only been two rounds. You were keeping count. Yet, you were surprised you could remember anything at all with the way Dae-ho’s slow and deep thrusts pierced your hole.

✮ His hands were roaming all over your body, telling you how beautiful you were—until he suddenly just stopped, his hand placed on your bulged tummy.

✮ Dae-ho slowly pumps out, just realizing what that bulge was, surprising both you and himself. He groans. “Let’s go for a couple more, okay baby?” He says sweetly, grabbing your hips gently. His hand was still placed on your tummy, and it would stay there.

✮ “You feel so good, baby.”

[chuulyssa]

──── ★ DRUGS SUCK IT UP LIKE VANILLA ICYS the recruiter x reader ────

starring the recruiter x detective!reader count 2.3k genre 18+ dark themes, yandere, stalking, kidnapping, gunplay, smut

notes I'LL KEEP EDITING THIS AND ADDING MORE SHIT WHENEVER I GET HORNY !!! make sure to keep tapping in lol notes wanted to write smth non horny but gong yoo just had to deepthroat that gun 🙂‍↔️ wrote this at 2am and i have my practicals tmr

You had no idea when you had lost track of him. One minute, you had been following his step through the bustling train station, and the next, your vision had blurred, and a sharp pain had shot at the base of your skull.

You didn’t know how long it had been since then. You opened your eyes, immediately shutting them back due to the sudden appearance of light to them. The scent of cigarette smoke filled your nostrils, and your tongue tasted blood.

You wriggled, trying to move your arms, but your hands had been tied behind your back, ankles tied to the legs of the chair you had been made to sit on. You opened your eyes once more. The room was dim with a single light bulb flickering on and off again and again.

“Detective,” a voice cooed at you from behind you.

You snapped your neck up to see his face smiling gleefully, staring down at you with a predatory glint in his eyes.

“Imagine my surprise,” he continued, moving away to stand in front of you, “when I realized the pretty lady that had been following me all this while,” he leaned against what you could make out to be a wooden table, “was you.”

His smirk was maddening. You remembered it from all those years ago. The handsome man in a suit, way too overdressed to meet you where he had. The man who had approached you when you were hopelessly drunk in a children’s park, crying about an unsolved case. He had wiped your tears back then, kissed your fears away. You still recall his words.

“Since we’re in a children’s park, how about a children’s game?”

Thank god for the polite refusal of yours, or you would’ve been in the same position as your current client. Seong Gihun. For whom you had been trailing this man for weeks now. The Recruiter.

“Hello? Earth to you, miss?” He snapped his fingers in front of your dazed face, making you jump at the sudden sound. He laughed at you. Then, flicking ash from his cigarette onto the floor, he mocked you. “I had such high hopes for you back then, sweetheart. But you said no,” he pouted, then cackled maniacally at your expression. “I got a kiss though!”

“Shut up,” you hissed.

He chuckled darkly, the sound echoing throughout the small room. Your eyes darted around to check for windows or exits, but you couldn’t find any in the pale lighting. “Aw, you want me to let you go? After you’ve been my little shadow for the past month?”

You looked away, and he only smirked, walking towards you. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked it upwards to catch your attention. “You look at me while we’re speaking. Don’t you have manners, love?”

“Don’t call me that,” you scoffed.

“Oh, you don’t want me to call you that? Is that right, love?” He jeered. When you scowled at him, he dropped his smirk. “Oh, come on now. We both know you’re not going anywhere. Come, let’s have a chat, shall we?”

He sat on the floor, his toes lifting him off the ground by themselves. The soles of his shoes clinked, tilting up so that he was mostly leaning onto you.

“It’s so flattering,” he began, “that you spent so much time trying to follow me all this time later. Am I that captivating, Miss Detective?”

“No.”

“Ah, but you are, certainly,” he nuzzled his face into your lap, making you squirm. You tried to close your thighs, but the restraints didn’t allow you to. “I’ve been dreaming of you ever since I saw you that night.”

He hummed, his knees going down to support his stance. He moved his hands to caress the front of your waist softly. “I cried because you were crying. So don’t cry over anything other than me, hm? It makes me so upset.”

He unbuttoned your pants swiftly, and you flinched. He looked up, amused at your reaction. You glared at him, refusing to speak, but the look in your face, the desire in your eyes, even the wetness he could practically smell betrayed you. He tilted his head.

“Still so stubborn,” he murmured, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. You jerked your head away, but the restraint made it futile.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re in my world now, detective. And in my world, we play games.”

He pulled out a revolver from under his suit. The metallic click of the very much real weapon cocking made your breath hitch.

Where did he get that from?

He always managed to surprise you.

“Russian roulette,” he announced dramatically, spinning the cylinder. “You know this, yes? A game of chance. Just like life.”

“You’re fucking insane,” you spat, trying to keep your voice steady, but you could feel it quaking in fear. You were scared now.

“Maybe,” he agreed, stepping behind you and pressing the cold barrel of the gun to your temple. “But aren’t you curious, detective? I am. I’m so so curious. You make me feel it. To crave it. Don’t you see it?”

You closed your eyes. The pressure of the gun against your skin seemed unbearable now. It was as if the nuzzle could pierce through your brain with how he was holding it against you.

“I want to see,” he kissed the top of your head, “just how far you’re willing to go to solve this case.”

I’ll do anything, you thought.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Beg me to stop, but there’ll be consequences then. Or take the risk.”

His voice was a low purr. The gun shifted slightly, trailing down your temple to rest just below your jaw.

“Say the word, and I’ll put it all to an end. No more games. No more questions.” His other hand came up, ghosting over your chest. “But then you’ll have to give me something else in return.”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to steady your breathing as he groped your breast through the fabric of your shirt. The room felt too small, the air too thin.

“What’s it going to be, darling?” he teased, the nickname twisting in your gut like a knife. His fingers found your hardened nipple through the fabric, and his lips your neck.

“I...” you started, but your voice cracked. His soft chuckle rumbled against your pulse, sending an unwanted shiver down your spine.

“No shame in fear,” he said, almost kindly. The gun tilted up, tilting your chin with it, forcing you to meet his dark, hungry gaze in the reflection of the mirror in front of you. “Little Miss Detective, found dead in a basement room. Your parents wouldn’t like to hear that now, would they?”

Your eyes widened. He knew. He knew from the start you had been tailing him. He had kept tabs on you, more than you had on him.

“Stop,” you whispered. “Please.”

“Ah, is that the best you can do?” He cooed at you, and your hands clenched into fists.

“Please let me go,” you said, almost angrily, and he threw his head back to laugh.

“That’s not how you say it, dolly.”

You took a deep breath in, feeling your pride crush and fall down around you in bits and pieces. “Please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” He repeated in a child-like voice. “Like what?”

“Anything you like.”

His smile grew. “Will you be willing to play a game with me, then?” His hand reached under your shirt to caress your nipple, and you could feel yourself gushing at the touch.

“What game?”

“Hm, let’s see,” he murmured softly, fingers circling around your nipple. “I’ll count down from ten.”

You swallowed hard. “And?”

“And for every second that passes, I’ll take one step closer to you,” he explained, his lips curling into a sly smile. “If you say the safe word, I stop. But…” He picked up the gun, rolling the cylinder lazily before he pointed it to the side and—

BANG !

You shook, trying to cower and hide yourself, but even that was difficult. The aftereffects of the shot echoed in the silence, until it faded away. It made everything seem realer, if that was even possible. He grinned at your reaction. “There will be problems.”

“What problems?”

“That’s for me to decide,” he said simply, leaning forward, the gun still in his hand. “Do you want to play, Miss Detective?”

You hesitated. There was no way out of this room, no way out of his control. And he knew it.

“Good.” He stood, assuming your answer before you even responded. But the gun was still in his hand, and you didn’t dare disobey. He stepped back to the far wall and bumped into a table on the way. Angrily, he kicked the table out of his way, muttering curses all the while. Then his expression softened as he turned to you. “The rules are clear. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

He began.

“Ten.” The sound of his boots against the floor echoed around.

“Nine.” Another step. His eyes locked onto yours like a predator stalking its prey.

“Eight.” Your hands gripped the edge of the chair.

“Seven.” The gun in his hand wasn’t aimed at you yet, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it.

“Six.” He was close enough now that you could see the faint smirk playing on his lips.

“Five.” “Wait,” you blurted out.

He paused mid-step, tilting his head. “Wait? That’s not the safe word.” He took another step, closer still. You clenched your jaw, now starting to panic.

He never even gave you a safe word in the first place!

“Four.” He was looming over you now, the barrel of the gun tracing along the edge of the table.

“Three.” “Stop,” you said loudly.

“Two.” The gun was under your chin now, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“One.” He smiled, satisfied, as he crouched down to your level, his face mere inches from yours. “You didn’t use the safe word,” he murmured, the gun tracing along your jawline.

“You didn’t give me one!”

“Details,” he rolled his eyes. “But now, as per the rules, of course…” He kneeled down in front of you again, head tilting down. His hands went up to grip both sides of your waist.

“Wait—”

“Shut up.”

For a moment or two, you didn’t feel anything. That was until his tongue licked a striped against your clothed cunt.

“Ack!” You jumped, trying to push him off you, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Like that?” He nuzzled his face into the wetness, making you shiver. “I haven’t even started yet, baby,” he mumbled. Then, he sank his teeth into your clothed thigh.

You let out a loud cry, hoping that someone — anyone — would hear you. But no one did. No one came.

“Quiet now, dolly.” His teeth chewed at your waistband for a few seconds before pulling it down completely. “Up,” he tapped your waist, and you obediently raised your hips. He pried your pants off you.

“Oh,” he let out a disappointed sigh when he saw that your panties were still covering you. “We’ve got to take this off, hm?” He cooed at you again. “Come on, taking it off for me now.”

“What?”

“I said, take it off.”

“How?” You were taken aback.

“Wiggle wiggle,” he smiled like a dork. Then he sat up and kissed your ear. “I’ll help you with the top till then.”

He helped lift your top over your head directly. Once it was off, his lips immediately latched back onto your cheek. “Panties off, please. Before I rip them apart.”

You nodded and fidgeted for a while, lifting your hips up and down and trying to get the fabric off you. But it wouldn’t budge at all.

“Pathetic,” he said, though he looked at you fondly, as if mocking your vulnerability. Tugging a finger under the waistband of your panties, he peeled the soaked cloth away from your skin easily, patting your waist so you’d lift them up to get it off completely. 

You were exposed to him. Naked from top to bottom except for the bra he somehow hadn’t removed yet. You felt the sudden chill of air against your bare pussy. Your nipples pebbled further. He tossed the underwear aside.

His hands slid along your thighs, spreading them wider. “Beautiful.” His fingers tightened. A hand snaked between your legs, cupping the flesh of your thighs easily. “So wet. Already? You should be ashamed.”

You flushed lightly, trying to come up with a retort. But he shut you up immediately. His middle finger had found its way inside you.

“Fuck—” you groaned, and he snickered.

He wiggled his finger within you, grinding it against your inner walls, pressing firmly on that sweet spot while watching as your face contorted in pleasure.

Your body bucked as he added another finger, stretching you wide open. Then another. And another.

He pulled back suddenly, and you whined.

“Why—?”

“No,” he whispered, standing up. His large frame towered over yours, his hands reaching behind your neck to unclasp your bra. “Such nice tits, dolly.” He squeezed them in his rough palms as if grateful to God for his creations. His thumb brushed across your hardening nipple, teasing the peak into a tighter bud, if that was even possible.

Then he lowered his head, capturing one between his lips and suckling deeply. His tongue flicked expertly at your hardened nipple, nipping lightly.

You could see stars.

Suck. Nip. Twist. Fiddle. Suck. Nip. Twist. Fiddle. Suck. Ni—

He moved onto the other one and did the same.

Fuck was he good at his job.

He left trails of kisses on your chest. Both of them were red and swollen now, and you were left cursing his name in your mind.

“I’ve been playing nice all this while, don’t you think? Let’s make it rougher.”

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 || 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ when you declined to play Ddakji with a man, the least you expected was him stalking you, even less expected when you oblige him to lick your bleeding wound after seeing him kill a man and escaping him.

warnings_ MDNI, age gap (not specified but legal) reader is a foreigner (implied American but not specified again), stalking, NO KIDNAPPING NOR ABUSE HERE, blood play, dom!salesman, switch!reader, toxic till the end, sexual innuendos, manipulation, questionable morals, do not romanticize this irl pls, NO PROOFREAD YET

notes_ I’ll just drop this fic and leave it there bc why am i feeling so horny for an Asian sociopath? me la estoy pasando bien raro (i like it)

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 this man

✰ Index (+ fics here)

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Everything was irritating. The class you had was canceled last minute, the crowd at the train station was loud, the tapping of a kid in a window was constant, and the message you received asking for your campus ID to keep using your student account was sudden and required immediate action. Your cramps and migraine only aggravate everything.

You were steps away from the stairs when you stopped to take the damn picture of your ID and be done with that. But of course, you couldn’t find your wallet at first glance, so you moved aside to take a better look.

You worried about kneeling and ruining your black coat with the dirtiness of the floor at the station, but at the same time, you thought it was just stupid.

A trail of curses flooded your mind as you tried to find your wallet, making you oblivious to a random man walking in your direction.

“Excuse me, Miss… Would you like to play Ddakji?” Said the man asked you in Korean. You were occupied with a hand inside your thrifted designer tote, and your mind unconsciously prepared an answer in English.

“Sorry, I don’t have time” When you realized your mid-answer you sighed, just as you fished out your wallet. “For every win of yours, you’ll earn a great sum of cash”

Once you stood up, you met the face of the man who now answered in English as well. Very tall, handsome, innocent smile and in a suit; a businessman. You knew it was wrong to judge but there was something behind the smile he offered you that resulted eerie.

Like behind that seemingly blameless expression, the man was hiding his true intentions.

Might’ve been your eyes or hair that caught his attention. You weren’t native, and he didn’t want to think he could take advantage, yet his feet dragged him to you.

Placing your bag over your shoulder again, you grab your glasses and phone with tangled EarPods. You give the man one last look. You are not having a good day and you don’t have time to deal with this.

“What do you say?” He asks feigning kindness, eyeing you subtly without your knowledge.

“No, thank you. I don’t even know how the game works”

“You look like you are a natural. You might be surprised if you try. You just have to pick a color and try to flip the opposing tile”

The rich always trying to fuck the one who isn’t. This was just a new way. The urge to roll your eyes grew but you remained still.

“Look, I’m sorry. But I bet you do this just to see how desperate people who need money can go. I won’t be one of them. If not, sorry for misjudging you” you harshly say before putting on your EarPods and leaving the station. You leave him perplexed, huffing in disbelief and igniting a fire of curiosity inside him.

And you completely forgot about the Ddakji man as you made it to your little apartment, not knowing he would turn upside down your upcoming days.

…

Warm days in winter were exciting for you. They boosted your energy and made you want to be out all day.

You had the luck of living in a beautiful complex because it was once from a friend of your mother who married years ago and now had her single apartment for rent.

It had long warm hallways that hosted at least eight apartments by floor. With orange and pink subtle lights and uneven edges. It was truly a sight despite how little the apartments were. One bedroom with closet and bathroom, a tiny studio, small kitchen, enough space for a dining table, another small bathroom, and a half sized living room with balcony.

Your loneliness was well-balanced because you loved your home. But even on warm days, you wanted to be out.

Your red shoes contrasted with everything you stepped on. You carried a bag with a bunch of books and another one with thrifted clothes you bought.

At the park you always walked by, there was a fair amount of people as usual. You don’t care much to look around but someone makes you stare longer than needed.

The same man who asked if you wanted to play a game at the station was in the park. Another impeccable suit dressing him, looking attractive like the first time and already looking at you.

He offered you a smile, to which you didn’t reply. You looked at the ground, feeling like you had frozen.

What a weirdo, he offered bread and a random paper to a lonely man.

Simultaneously, you wondered if the man found you attractive enough to stare like that. With your mind that often became nihilistic, you thought you were delusional and that you should just keep walking.

His eyes remained glued to you. As his prey was thinking about what was better to choose, he contemplated you walking again.

The salesman realized he had made you nervous and that made him feel eager to end his job and follow you again.

Once he realized you lived in a good neighborhood, where his elegant suits matched the vibe, he got even more excited to see you again.

So now, was like it was meant to be.

How sweet, sophisticated, and innocent you looked.

Something shifted, as you passed by his side, only having a view of his back, you assumed he was worked out, his hair looked perfectly fine, and his big hands offered two things. Perhaps you had misjudged him and he really wanted to help. But your inner voice said otherwise. In a sudden change of events, you decided to look back once you were almost at the exit of the park.

With his deep gaze still set on you, your lips formed a smile.

And he took it as a first win in the games that had begun between you two.

…

Once again, you find yourself in the library. Inside one of the biggest malls you’ve been to, you are leaning at a counter, asking if they have an English translation of a book you were interested in.

Your Korean isn’t good enough yet, so as the nice librarian disappeared to find your request, you are working on your next reply, with a translation app.

“Do you recommend me this one?” your back arched as a startled reflex. You quickly stand straight and turn around to see the person you grew anxious to avoid and see again. The salesman is there, looking down at you with a perfectly orchestrated smile.

“Huh?” you ask disconcertingly, he shows you a book, his face looking like he had found a wounded little bird. But it was only you, startled and nervous by his strong presence.

The book is The Divine Comedy. Dante Alighieri.

“Certainly is a good one. A lot of heavenly justice…” you say trying to sound confident, looking at the cover of the book. Displaying the layers that separated heaven from hell. “Do you believe in heavenly justice?”

“I don’t know. We can’t call someone a sinner without a proper trial beforehand” he chuckles, which makes you frown for a second. He truly was unpredictable and you didn’t like that. “Ah, sinners. Always misjudged and harshly punished for being the ones who have the guts to make things…” his deep voice and tone made you wonder if he was self-perceived as a sinner, which made you feel worse.

“You sound like an ethnocentric…”

“I don’t think I’m far into that type of thinking, y/n” Your eyes almost popped out, leaving your hands in an anxious tremble.

“How is it possible that you know my name?” Before he can even answer, you add more. “You are stalking me”

His demonic smile makes your heart stop. The smile you once thought had innocence can’t blind you anymore. He isn’t innocent. He literally confirmed he was stalking you and you didn’t know how to feel.

“I don’t like the idea that conveys the word ‘stalking’. We can call it predestination…” you huff in disbelief. “What do you want with me?”

“I would like to get to know the woman who rejected my Ddakji offer. And ask for one more game” Your lips form a line, and quietly you are hating how much you are enjoying the conversation.

“Hmm, I’m bad at most games, so I’m afraid I will reject you once again” You turned back again to see if the librarian was coming when you felt him stepping closer, which made you feel nervous again.

“I might believe you. I always win…” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers through your spine and creating a lot of tension.

Your psycho mode almost made you lean forward again, daring to see if some friction was possible. But you didn’t, trying to be prudent and acting sane.

“I would’ve wanted a normal first interaction and this time you should’ve asked me out on a date. That’s how it works where I come from but… here, I guess not” he stepped aside as the librarian handed you the book. And as you thanked her and turned to leave and pay somewhere else, he took out a card and handed it to you.

“I’m sure we can work on some sort of arrangement. Here, you may call me…” slightly irritated that he didn’t say much about your inquiry, you snatched the card and walked away.

The cathartic feelings of wanting to keep talking to him and running away from him at the same time resulted in excruciating. It didn’t make sense, the point of him was to nowhere. Being clueless about his age, name, and everything made it feel wrong. Yet, curiosity was starting to burn you.

…

Like a miracle, the heavens moved and sprinkled some luck above you. You found some friends on campus, they spoke English like you and were foreigners as well. One of them was a friend of the owner of a club and invited you for the night.

The invitation made you forgetful about your salesman, whom you hadn’t talked with since the encounter in the library. The card he handed the last time rested between the book you bought the same day, making you unable to read more because it reminded you of the encounter with him.

It resulted unknown to you when was that your life had turned over the edge of becoming twisted. Your feelings for a mysterious man who seemed more accusable than appeared remained undecided.

He made you feel like a wildfire and a caged bird at the same time. Delicate but menacing.

He seemed older than you, professional in a field, mature and imposing. Which you didn’t mind when he appeared to ask you about The Divine Comedy. Either way, you were playing but couldn’t risk anything. Especially in a country where you didn’t know how everything worked.

After getting out of the shower, your thoughts on the salesman are completely faded. You slip on a sequin dress and paint your eyes with glitter and a smokey style.

Thereafter, at the club you let yourself go and have a wild night. Between classes, essays, and the issue with the salesman, you needed a time out.

Everything feels nice when you take a bathroom break and you smile at your reflection. You know you are close to being drunk, it’s the most enjoyable stage of ingesting alcohol.

“Hey, let’s go dancing, I couldn’t find you before!” Yells one of your friends after you reunite with the little group. You nod excitedly, taking her hand and letting her take you to the dance floor.

The music reminded you of that time when spinnin records were a trend and everyone played their mixes at parties back at home. As you move along the track, you don’t look at anything in particular, you just feel interesting and sexy. But your eyes end up giving a quick glance at one table, almost making you stop your euphoric moment.

You swore you saw your salesman.

Looking around you don’t see him, so you return dancing but the odd sensation in your chest doesn’t let you rest.

“What happens?” Asks another friend, looking worried.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone. Never mind…” you shake your head, smiling and convincing them that everything is fine.

But once they got more drunk, you walked out, despite curiosity, you wanted to confirm if the tall gorgeous man was near you.

Rarely you bring up to question your life decisions. Not because you thought you were perfect, but because you easily accepted your errors.

And it wasn’t hard to accept you completely messed up by getting out of the club. Where the night was colder, and some steps away from the main entrance, the crowd was loud. A man could be heard pleading and sobbing, which made you fearful but eager to see what was happening.

You peeked at the alley beside the club. A wave of shock flooded you once you noticed another man was punching the one who yelped and sobbed for forgiveness.

Your salesman was the attacker.

“Please! I’ll pay everything back!” Your mind raced back to the moment you spotted your salesman inside the club minutes ago.

His dark grey suit didn’t fit the aura of the place, but he seemed to be talking with the same man he was now punching.

It was obvious at that point that he wasn’t a good man. He made fun of making people play his seemingly innocent games to later laugh in the face whenever they lost. He was never flirting with you, the odd feeling of uncertainty you felt with him was right.

You had to go. You had to burn the card he gave you, avoid the station where you met him, and forget about his face.

There’s panic in your system, your heart beats fast and nausea starts coming up your throat.

You want to get immediately drunk and forget everything you saw with a hangover. You need it.

But you don’t get very far. Midway through the stairs that conduct to the club, a hand holds your forearm with extreme pressure and drags you inside a private room.

Your salesman finally found you.

…

“You just killed a man!” you almost yelled as soon as he pushed you inside and closed the door.

The room was very fancy like the club. It had a big desk near a window, flower-shaped hanging lamps, black sparkly floor tiles, and a sage velvet couch.

Your salesman slides his fingers through his hair and looks at the ceiling before turning to you. One hand still carrying the murder weapon.

“He deserved it” was all he answered and you take a breath. In need of an alibi, you opened a random fridge in the room and grabbed a beer. Your salesman watched how you sipped at the can. He knew you were feeling a mix of curiosity and disgust for him.

Once you drink at least half of the content, you sigh, brushing aside some hair and walking towards him.

“Who are you?” you ask pleadingly, desperate to know how far you’ve gone for him.

“Eventually you’ll know” he sounds cold, calculating, and menacing. “You didn’t call…”

He was taking advantage of your vulnerability.

“I met you a week ago, I don’t even know your name” you admit with shame and dissatisfaction.

For the first time, he genuinely touches you. Hands straight to your waist, making gasp in surprise.

“You’re smart and will eventually understand. You’re my good girl”

His good girl….

What was left to do when you have a sociopath holding your waist with the same hands he had used to kill a man? Play along, even if you are terrified.

What had been your horrified face, slowly ends up in a smirk, tilting your head, squandering cheekiness. “I’m not your good girl, sir”

He slowly leaned back, taking a seat on the sage couch, one of his hands going straight to rest behind his head, against the wall. He twirled the knife against his knee, making you uneasy, but confident about your upcoming words.

“If I walk away, you can’t do much with me, I’m a foreigner. Sure the authorities would dismantle whatever dirty job you’re into and that’s a big no-no” you explain, and feeling a little too bold, you step between his legs.

“Your lack of ignorance amazes me” he admits, offering you a cocky smile. “It makes me even more infatuated”

Your left knee pushed aside his hand twirling the knife. He remained still but sure seemed slightly surprised when you ended up straddling him. With your hands glued to his dark tie, putting it into place.

“Hmm, well, be careful. I am no threat, I barely have valuable skills to get rid of you but I know I could be a problem. So I guess I won, sir…” you allow yourself to smile, following a path with your fingers, from his tie to his cheeks and nose, softly tracing his pale skin.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart” You knew he was trying to be in control, and the best part was that you weren’t fighting for it.

“There’s a lot I might not understand. I’m just a girl who happened to be in this city for a temporary academic project” When your lips brushed his, you couldn’t deny he was so fucking hot, you wished he wasn’t so weird and probably part of a mafia or cult or whatever. “You are the grown-ass man who got obsessed with me”

“I just find you an odd but interesting player, sweet girl” he tried to use his innocent smile but it was useless when you grabbed him by the shoulders and finally dared to kiss him.

He controlled it the moment he touched you again. His hands had a possessive sting and firmly grabbed you by the hips. One of them still holding the knife.

Feeling bold, with adrenaline flowing freely, you softly bit his lower lip. You knew it was over when he almost let out a moan, and after checking he had his eyes closed, you literally jumped away from him.

Without looking back, you started running. Your clumsy steps turn frantic, knowing damn well he would start following you soon. As you literally start pushing people to get out, your heart beats faster than ever and you have a growing anxiety, begging you to stop and breathe.

Once the cold air hit you, as you took a cab and saw no sign of your salesman, confusion struck you and you saw the blood in your chest and arm.

“Are you alright, girl?” The driver asked, also watching your bleeding state.

“Yes, just an accident, I’m okay” he nods unsure, but starts driving after you give him your destination.

His knife must’ve sliced your skin when you stood up from his lap. When he moved one of his big hands to caress your chin.

It wasn’t that you were scared of him, of your salesman. Although you should be; but you weren’t. Could it be that the worst part was that you were attracted to him? Even after watching him kill a man? You were screwed.

You realize the reason why you always ran away from him is because you don’t know how to face his unpredictable demeanor.

At that point, you didn’t know what he wanted. Only that he was obsessed with you. But his intentions remained a mystery unsolved.

Before getting out of the cab, you pay and send your friends a message that you left early because you got a headache after vomiting. This didn’t happen, but would’ve been better to experience it as a young woman in her twenties.

…

When you opened the door, he was already inside. The worst part is that you weren’t surprised anymore. You only stood at the feet of the door, looking at him with uneasiness.

“You got me worried,” he says, stopping his movements around your table. “You left some blood stains and I thought it was serious”

“You accidentally showed me your true nature. A little bit of blood shouldn’t scare you” his shirt indeed had some bloody spots, his blazer was gone, and the sleeves of his messy shirt were rolled up. You hated that your first thought was that he looked very hot.

He moved and took a seat at one of your tables. He sighed and you realized that perhaps he was also screwed up. For letting himself go too far for you.

“I don’t regret any encounter we’ve had,” he says. “Me neither”

He can’t stop staring at your bloodstained dress and you notice.

Fuck everything, you thought.

I’m attracted to him, he’s attracted to me, What’s the worst thing that could happen? (I don’t want to know).

“Silly boy, look what you did to me,” you say looking at the soaked fabric.

Something possessed you at that moment. Your hands went straight to lift your dress. His eyes trailed your sparkly underwear, your lower belly, and your ribs that rose and fell as you breathed.

Your hands twirl behind your back to unhook your bra; also soaked, throwing it to the floor.

Your salesman is quiet, his innocent smile about to fall because you know you have taken him by surprise.

Likely you’ll get a scar. The would-be slightly deep, an uneven line that passed from your neck to your shoulder.

You step forward, confidently eyeing him.

“Clean it” he tried to stand up, probably to grab a med kit but you stopped him with your heel. “With your mouth. Lick it clean…”

He gulped.

His manspread became the only thing you could care about. How he eyed you with lust and possession for some seconds, and then to lean forwards.

Once again his hands landed on the curves of your hips and he made you step up, leaving him inches away from you.

Your sudden surgation grew and his hot tongue finally made contact with your skin.

You savored the feeling of his tongue, knowing he wouldn’t clean anything but the semi-dry blood over your breast. He was only making a mess.

Then, he lifts his head and catches your lips in a sullied kiss. The way he held you, made you understand how he always wanted control. Above anything.

“I will be gone within time. You can ruin me while it lasts…” you blurt out, panting for air.

“I’ll ruin you. But I don’t want to rip you apart. That’s pointless…” he admits in your lips, blood near your chin that he wipes out. “You’re the most fun I’ve had in years. My little toy…”

“Alright, I’ll be your toy” he nods, kissing you again. “Know that my lips are sealed when it comes to you”

“And you won’t have to worry about anything again…” you moan on his lips when he pulls your hair and finally makes you lay on your once new carpet, now displaying some splotches of blood.

“I don’t need your money”

“Don’t you want to make your mother proud and relieved from student debts? From rent?” You can’t think straight. “It’s not correct…”

“None of this is, y/n. Now shut your mouth and spread your legs, toy”

It’s wrong, immoral, a complete madness. You know everything will change once the night dies and the morning comes. But as much as you tried to communicate to him that you weren’t scared, you knew it was over, you’ve gotten too deep into his shit.

“Farewell to my purity” you whisper in his ear and it’s enough to make his eyes turn darker, full of lust.

Everything that consoles purity would be gone from you. And the fact that you were ready scared you. But once his hands started meeting places across your body, you welcomed the sin.

As well as your mind seized thinking. Not caring about the consequences.

_______________________________________________

If you ask for more I will provide

Quién me manda a escribir estas mamadas? I’m just ovulating.

[melminli]

Dirty Cash (Money Talks)

summary - you had nothing against your colleague, but you weren't stupid enough to be fooled by his innocent smile and appearance since you knew exactly what kind of corrupt person was hiding behind that costume. after all, you were wearing the same one.

pairing: (gong yoo/ji-cheol) the salesman x fem. recruiter reader

word count: 1.4k

contains: talk about gambling + death and murder, sexual tension?, crack and just evil morals tbh

a/n: i watched maybe the first fifteen minutes or so of bullet train, but i thought of the two funny dudes from it while writing this bcuz their dynamic was funny af. also, i will use the actor's name in this fic since the character itself doesn't really have an official one that was mentioned in the series!

You straightened your tie with your free hand while watching your train approach from the side. The station was always pretty empty at this hour, which saved you the jostling and squeezing as you entered. After that, you sat down comfortably with a light sigh - next to the free seat beside your devilishly handsome colleague. “Are you alright? Don't tell me that you had a exhausting day?” he asked you worriedly with his typical innocent smile on his face but you've known the guy for a while now and you knew exactly how dishonest he sounded right now.

You returned his gaze for a second, uninterested, before turning it back in front of you to observe your surroundings from the window. “Exhausting day? Don't make fun of me or I'll punch you in the face,” you replied monotone and Gong Yoo didn't doubt your statement for a second - or Ji-cheol as you preferred to call him since you weren't a big fan of nicknames. “I had a great time punching those bastards in the face one by one. It feels kinda therapeutic, so I'm actually feeling pretty good right now,” you told him, talking about the subject as if you were talking about the weather.

Your colleague grunted with delight at your good news. “And I would never disagree with you on that.” he said and then just watched your figure silently for a while before speaking up again. “Since you're in such a good mood, would you be willing to play a more private game between the two of us?” he suggested, making you look at him in utter disbelief.

“A private game? With you?” you repeated, amused and laughed in his face. “Hell, no. But don't worry, I'll let you know next time I want to get totally screwed by a freaky pervert,” you added, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Which will be, never.

“Come on, don't be like that,” he asked you sweetly. As sweet as the wolf who pretended to be the mother of the seven little goats before he ate them all one by one. “It's just a tiny, harmless game. It's been so long since we've played anything together.” he complained to you earnestly as if you actually cared, and you didn't.

Yeah, you remembered the last time very clearly, even if you would much rather prefer that you didn't. You hummed. “Is that so? Huh. I mean, it could be because you almost killed me in a fucking game of tic-tac-toe the last time, but that's just a theory.” You said with a shrug, clearly still resenting him for that. However, he just rolled his eyes unaffected by your grudge. “But you didn't, right? It was the other guy who got the bullet in his head.” He replied, not even remembering his name. Not that he had to.

You just glared at him while you rubbed your forehead. “Yeah, maybe. But I'm tired of risking my life just because it makes you horny and you can jerk off to it.” You made your feelings on the matter clear. “You know that the whole living on the edge of death thing isn't really my cup of tea. At least try to understand me a bit here, too.”

I suppose she's not entirely wrong, I could give it a try. I never thought about it like that before, did I? He thought to himself in his head as he ran his tongue over the back of his teeth while he pondered. How selfish of me. “So what exactly do I have to do, to convince you?” He asked you while he already had a few ideas in mind.

You grinned. “You know that very well, don't play dumb.” You demanded as you leaned closer to him so that he could hear what you were singing softly. “Money talks, money talks - dirty cash, I want you, and dirty cash, I need you, oh ~”

He raised an eyebrow, not particularly surprised. “So you want to play for money?” He repeated it, not outright rejecting your request. “Don't you have enough of that already? You're really insatiable when it comes to cash and now you want mine, too?” he joked just to get you worked up.

Though, you didn't get the slightest bit offended by what he said. “Can you ever have enough money? Besides, I'm not forcing you to give it to me, am I?” you said with a smile, already knowing that he would agree to your terms. “But if you want me to play with you, I want eight million won for every round I win.”

She's so greedy for someone who is already more than wealthy. “Aren't you exaggerating a bit? Most people don't earn that much in a month,” he continued his act of - whatever this was - because he just loved arguing with you.

“So? We both have the same salary, I know you can afford it,” you said, holding a hand in the air as soon as you felt that he wanted to stretch this unnecessary conversation even more. “You have to decide now what you want to do or I withdraw my proposal again.”

Gong Yoo closed his mouth and started grinning even wider. “You don't even want to know what kind of game I want to play?” he asked curiously, nodding and accepting whatever you wanted as soon as he saw that you actually weren't interested. You couldn't even imagine how gladly he gave in to you at this moment. “All right, I agree with your request.”

You stood up with your briefcase in hand after your station was announced. “Good. Text me when you have something in mind, I'll be there as long as it fits timewise.”

Your colleague continued to watch you with a look on his face that used to make you more than just uncomfortable back in the day - though, it didn't even bother you in the slightest now. “You don't want to accompany me to the...office?”

You smiled while the train started to slow down. “Au revoir, Ji-cheol.” you just said your goodbye to him and stepped out of the doors. You didn't even spare the poor guy a second glance when he waved his hand at you from the window. She can be so heartless sometimes, he thought to himself, even if you were like this pretty much all the time. I'll have to think of something good to ask for in return should I win. I'm definitely not going to hold back when there's this much money at stake.

You didn't give a second thought to anything as you made your way home after a day's work like any normal citizen would do. However, your steps slowed considerably when you noticed a beggar in your field of vision and even though the rest of the crowd ignored the man and his entire existence, you couldn't help but focus your full attention on him. You looked at your watch, I've been off work for a while now. But even then, you couldn't help but notice that he was one of the people on your list to recruit for the game. He'll still be here tomorrow, but I don't mind another round of Ddakji. I love money more than anything - but I'm not doing this job for only that.

“Excuse me,” you spoke to the man with a polite smile on your face, and he only submissively avoided your gaze as he listened to you. After all, one rarely approached people like him and why would they? He held his cup of loose change out in front of him, probably expecting you to give him a small donation, but you wanted to give him so much more than that. Even if the guy didn't know it right now - you wanted to give him another chance in life, so that he wouldn't continue to be just a miserable failure.

You ignored his donation cup. “I was wondering if you might have a moment because I'd like to make you an offer,” you continued politely and the man met your gaze at that. Yeah, you were really looking forward to what was about to happen - after all, you were known for letting your opponent only win if you allowed them to.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

the salesman masterlist ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪.

❤︎︎- SMUT, MDNI | ★-FLUFF | 𖦹- ANGST

- game time ★

- professor ❤︎︎

- mornings ★

[extinctlesspains]

I really loved the salesman imagine.could you write one where the reader and the salesman had a romance.But he gives a card sending her to the games.Feeling and hurt and betrayed she does her best to survive and she ends up winning along with Gi-hun.now three years later the reader goes to visit Gi-Hun with her 2 year old daughter.(she had found out she was pregnant after the games)she walks in on Gi-hun and the salesman during Russian roulette 

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑛��𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑒 [𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑛]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: ʏᴇs ᴏʀ ɴᴏ

☆ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴇ sᴀʟᴇsᴍᴀɴ x ᴀғᴀʙ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

☆ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ᴀɴɢsᴛ

☆ sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴀ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ʙᴇᴛʀᴀʏᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ sᴀʟᴇsᴍᴀɴ ᴡʜᴏ sᴇɴᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ɢᴀᴍᴇs sᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴇs, ᴅɪsᴄᴏᴠᴇʀs sʜᴇ’s ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇʙᴜɪʟᴅs ʜᴇʀ ʟɪғᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇʀ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ. ʏᴇᴀʀs ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ, sʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴғʀᴏɴᴛs ᴛʜᴇ sᴀʟᴇsᴍᴀɴ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴛᴇɴsᴇ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ᴀᴛ ɢɪ-ʜᴜɴ’s ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ, ᴄʜᴏᴏsɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ʜᴇʀ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜɪs ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs.

☆ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs: ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ, ᴋɪssɪɴɢ, ᴠɪʀɢɪɴɪᴛʏ ʟᴏss, ᴀʀɢᴜɪɴɢ, ᴄʀʏɪɴɢ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ɢᴜɴ ᴛᴀʟᴋ.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

It all started with a simple game.

You’d been on your way home, drowning in stress and overdue bills, when a man in a sharp suit approached you at the train station.

“Care for a little fun?” he asked, holding up a red and blue envelope.

At first, you wanted to refuse. But his easy charm—and your desperation—drew you in. He explained the slap-match game, and soon you were caught in the strange, exhilarating rhythm of winning and losing. By the end, you were breathless, laughing despite the sting on your cheek.

“Not bad,” he said, handing over the cash with a smile that felt too warm, too genuine for a stranger.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him after that. When you ran into him again a few days later, he acted like it was coincidence.

“Maybe it’s fate,” he teased.

Soon, he was everywhere—buying you coffee, walking you home, and making your life feel just a little less heavy. He made you laugh, listened to your frustrations, and looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

One night, after weeks of growing closer, you found yourself in his arms. You’d invited him in after a long evening, your walls lowered by exhaustion and the warmth of his presence. You were full of ecstasy after that night. The way his lips kissed your neck, the way his thrusts were so sensual.

“You’re special, you know,” he murmured as his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back.

“Do you mean that?” you whispered, scared to hear the answer.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

His words were your undoing. That night, you let him see all of you—your fears, your flaws, and your dreams. For the first time in years, you felt safe.

The illusion shattered when he slid the card across the table.

“What’s this?” you asked, staring at the embossed logo. Circle, triangle, square.

“A chance to change your life,” he said, his tone eerily calm.

You frowned, a pit of unease forming in your stomach. “What kind of chance?”

“It’s a game,” he explained. “An opportunity to win enough money to solve all your problems.”

“Why are you giving me this?” Your voice wavered, the trust you’d built with him suddenly fragile.

“Because I care about you,” he said, his gaze steady.

His face softened, but he didn’t retract the card. “I believe in you, Y/n. More than you believe in yourself.”

His words felt like a betrayal wrapped in a compliment. Against your better judgment, you took the card, driven by desperation and the hope that maybe he was right.

The games were worse than you could have imagined.

Every death chipped away at your soul, and every betrayal reminded you of his. But you refused to break. Gi-hun became your lifeline, his determination and kindness pulling you through when you felt like giving up.

“We’re going to make it,” he promised one night, his voice steady. “We have to.”

You survived, but at a cost. The prize money felt like blood money, and the nightmares lingered long after the games ended.

A month later, you discovered the pregnancy.

At first, you were terrified. The thought of raising a child alone, of explaining where her father was and why he wasn’t around, felt overwhelming. But when you heard her heartbeat for the first time, everything changed.

You named her Hana, meaning “flower.” She became the anchor that kept you grounded, her laughter a reminder that there was still beauty in the world.

When she was born, you held her close, tears streaming down your face. “You’re my miracle,” you whispered.

Hana grew into a bright, curious toddler who filled your life with light. But you couldn’t shake the shadow of her father—the man who had once made you feel safe and then abandoned you to the wolves.

Two years later, you decide to visit Gi-hun. He had become like a brother to you, someone who understood the darkness you’d endured. As you climb the stairs to his apartment, Hana babbles in your arms, clutching her favorite stuffed rabbit.

But when you reach the door, the sound of voices stops you cold.

“Are you sure about this?” Gi-hun’s voice, tense and uncertain.

“I never force anyone,” a familiar voice replies.

Your heart races as you push the door open.

Gi-hun and the salesman sit at the table, a revolver between them. The salesman looks as composed as ever, while Gi-hun is pale and trembling.

“What the hell is going on here?” you demand.

The salesman looks up, his eyes widening slightly as he sees you—and the child in your arms. “Y/n.”

Gi-hun stammers, “It’s not what it looks like—”

“You’re playing Russian roulette!” you snap, your voice rising. “How is that not exactly what it looks like?”

The salesman’s gaze flicks to Hana. “You have a daughter,” he says softly, putting the pieces together.

“Don’t you dare,” you hiss, clutching her closer. “You don’t get to talk about her. You don’t get to act like you care.”

“I do care,” he says, standing slowly. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You lied to me,” you spit. “You used me. You sent me to those games knowing I might die.”

“I gave you a choice,” he says, his voice calm but firm.

“You gave me a death sentence,” you fire back. “And now you’re here, dragging Gi-hun into your twisted games? Haven’t you done enough damage?”

The salesman’s jaw tightens. “It’s not that simple.”

“No,” you say, your voice shaking. “It’s exactly that simple. You destroy people’s lives and pretend it’s for their own good. But you don’t get to do that to us anymore.”

He looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nods, his eyes lingering on Hana one last time.

“Goodbye, Y/n,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

As the door closes behind him, you sink into a chair, trembling.

Gi-hun reaches out, his voice filled with regret. “I’m sorry—”

“It’s not your fault,” you say, cutting him off. “He manipulates people. That’s what he does.”

Hana wriggles in your arms, her tiny hand brushing your cheek. “Mama,” she says softly, her voice filled with love.

You press a kiss to her forehead, tears slipping down your face. “We’re okay,” you whisper, more to yourself than anyone else.

Gi-hun watches you, his eyes filled with both guilt and gratitude. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

“For what?”

“For saving me.”

You meet his gaze, your resolve hardening. “We save each other.”

[meadowfics]

the squid game characters as parents ☂︎

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑘𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑒-ℎ𝑜 (𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 388), 𝑐ℎ𝑜 ℎ𝑦𝑢𝑛-𝑗𝑢 (𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 120), 𝑘𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑎𝑒-𝑏𝑦𝑒𝑜𝑘 (𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 067 𝑠1), 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑔𝑦𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔-𝑠𝑒𝑜𝑘 (𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 246), 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑠 (𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 230), 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑔𝑦𝑢 (𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 124), 𝑠𝑒-𝑚𝑖 (𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 380), 𝑐ℎ𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑔-𝑤𝑜𝑜 (𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 218 𝑠1), 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑛

𝑥 𝑓!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

headcannons will feature: which type of parenting style the characters adapt to and why (based off of their character and backstories), how many kids they'd have with you, the physical and personality descriptions of the kids, and a cute moment between them and your shared baby/child <3

if you do not prefer what I've written for these characters or disagree, you can ignore or simply write your own.

𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑡𝑤𝑜

cho hyun-ju x you

parenting styles:

you and hyun-ju balance each other out as parents.

you are the structured but warm parent.

you make sure your daughter sticks to routines, eats well, and understands responsibility, but you always do it with love.

hyun-ju is softer, more relaxed, and endlessly patient.

she never raises her voice, always talking things through calmly. she is the type to sit down at eye level with your daughter when explaining things, making sure she always feels heard and valued.

both of you raise eun-ae to be accepting of everyone, teaching her that kindness and respect matter more than anything.

hyun-ju, especially, makes it a point to talk about how people should be free to live as their true selves.

how many kids?:

you had one child, pregnant during the games. the father passed away before the games and you were struggling.

after meeting hyun-ju and making it out the games alive, she stepped into the role of a mother without hesitation.

she never once saw eun-ae as anything other than her daughter.

over the years, you two discussed the idea of having another child, but nothing ever felt as natural and right as just raising eun-ae together.

she was enough, and your little family felt complete.

what does eun-ae look like?

eun-ae has your eyes and your nose, but her expressions, the way she tilts her head when she’s thinking or furrows her brows when concentrating, are all hyun-ju.

the girl's dark, wavy hair that always looks a little messy no matter how many times you try to fix it.

she refuses to sit still for too long when you try to brush it.

big, expressive eyes that make it impossible to say no to her.

she knows exactly how to use them against both of you.

whats her personality?:

curious and always asking questions.

she wants to know everything about the world and why things are the way they are.

eun-ae has a heart of gold, just like hyun-ju.

she doesn’t like seeing people sad and always tries to help, even in little ways.

a little mischievous, especially with you.

she knows you’re the softer one when it comes to saying “no” and always tests her luck with you first before hyun-ju steps in.

one afternoon, you find eun-ae sitting on the living room floor with an old photo album spread open in front of her.

she’s flipping through the pages with wide eyes, her fingers running over the images like she’s trying to memorize them.

“mommy,” she calls, looking up at you.

“did you know mama had a twin brother?”

your heart stops for a second before you realize what she’s looking at. the pictures..hyun-ju from before her transition, back when she was in the special forces.

short-cropped hair, sharp jawline, standing in uniform with a serious expression.

you sit down next to her, trying to find the right words, but before you can speak, hyun-ju steps into the room.

“what are you looking at, sweetie?” hyun-ju asks, kneeling beside her.

eun-ae points at the photos.

“you never told me you had a twin!” she exclaims, looking between the two of you, confused but excited.

hyun-ju exhales softly, giving you a glance, and you nod, silently letting her know you’re here, supporting whatever she wants to say.

“sweetheart,” hyun-ju starts, tucking a strand of hair behind eun-ae’s ear.

“that’s actually me.”

eun-ae blinks, then looks back at the photos. her little fingers trace over the face again, like she’s trying to match it to the woman sitting beside her.

“but… you don’t look like that now.”

hyun-ju takes a breath, reaching for her daughter’s hands.

“that’s because i wasn’t happy being that person,” she explains gently.

“i always felt like i was supposed to be different, like i was living as someone else instead of who i really am. but then, one day, i decided to be true to myself. i became the person i was always meant to be.”

eun-ae stays quiet, her brows furrowed in deep thought.

you rub her back soothingly, letting her process.

after a moment, she looks up at hyun-ju with the biggest, most innocent eyes and asks, “so… you were always my mommy, even back then?”

hyun-ju’s breath catches. you see the way her throat bobs as she swallows hard, emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

she squeezes eun-ae’s hands.

“yes, baby. i was always meant to be your mommy.”

without hesitation, eun-ae throws her arms around hyun-ju’s neck, holding her as tightly as her little arms allow.

“i love you, mommy. you’re the best.”

hyun-ju lets out a shaky breath, wrapping her arms around your daughter and burying her face into her tiny shoulder. you watch as she clings to eun-ae, like she’s afraid to let go, like she never thought she’d have this kind of love and acceptance.

your chest feels like it’s about to burst with love, and you reach over, wrapping your arms around both of them.

“we’re always going to love you,” you whisper to hyun-ju, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“always.”

thanos x you

parenting styles:

thanos is the stricter parent, always making sure scarlet and thor know the importance of discipline, respect, and making smart choices.

he has a tendency to lecture when they mess up, but it always comes from a place of love and deep fear of failing them.

you balance him out with a more nurturing approach, making sure the twins feel emotionally understood.

when thanos gets too intense, you’re there to remind him to soften up.

thanos has worked hard to leave his past behind, getting clean before the twins were born, and he swore to never let them experience the kind of childhood he had.

he wants to be a father they can be proud of, even if it means being tough at times.

deep down, he’s terrified of messing up, but he refuses to let that fear control him.

how many kids?:

twins...scarlet and thor.

thanos insists on calling them by these names, and despite your protests, the names stuck.

these are not their legal, government names by the way.

however, even their teachers call them that.

so, the names stuck.

thanos always planned to be there for them, but before they were born, he had doubts about whether he’d be a good enough father. once they arrived, he knew he could never let them down.

what do 'scarlet' and 'thor' look like??

both are almost exact copies of thanos.

same piercing eyes, same sharp features.

scarlet has his nose and a determined expression that mirrors his own.

thor has the same strong jawline and serious gaze that makes it seem like he’s always deep in thought.

the only thing they got from you is your hair and eyebrows.

everything else? all thanos.

what are their personalities?:

scarlet is fearless, never backing down from a challenge.

she’s sharp, clever, and sometimes too stubborn for her own good.

she tries to get what she wants, often crying if she does not, but luckily you and thanos can respectfully handle the underlying issue.

thor is quieter, more observant, but equally as strong-willed.

he thinks before he speaks, always analyzing before making a move.

the twins bicker constantly, but underneath it all, they’re inseparable. if one is upset, the other immediately feels it.

you stand in the foyer hallway, leaning against the wall, arms crossed as you watch the chaos unfold.

“scarlet, give it back!”

thor shouts, his small hands reaching for the toy clutched in his twin’s grip.

“i had it first!”

scarlet yells back, yanking it away.

thor, never one to let things go easily, lunges for it, but scarlet is quicker. frustration bubbles between them, their voices getting louder, and within seconds, scarlet’s face crumples.

tears spill over, her frustration reaching its limit.

the moment scarlet starts crying, thor...who had been so determined to win this battle...suddenly looks stricken. the younger twin's lower lip trembles before he lets out a wail of his own, their emotions bouncing off each other like an unstoppable force.

thanos, who had been watching with narrowed eyes, sighs heavily and kneels down in front of them.

“enough enough enough,”

he says firmly, but not unkindly.

scarlet sniffles, rubbing her eyes. thor hiccups, clutching his tiny fists.

“what did i tell you about being smart?”

thanos asks, his voice calm but steady.

scarlet and thor stare at him, still hiccuping through their tears.

“you’re both upset, and for what? a toy vegetable?”

thanos continues, shaking his head.

“is this what smart choices look like?”

scarlet wipes her nose on her sleeve, looking down at the toy.

“no…”

thor mumbles the same answer, shuffling on his feet.

thanos exhales, reaching out to place a gentle hand on each of their small shoulders.

“listen to me. you’re a team. you don’t fight each other. you figure things out together.”

scarlet sniffles.

“but… i wanted it first.”

“and thor wanted it too,”

thanos points out.

“so what do we do when we both want something?”

thor glances at his twin before muttering, “share?”

thanos nods.

“or take turns.”

scarlet looks at the toy in her hands before hesitantly holding it out to thor.

"you can go first.”

thor looks surprised, but he takes it.

“okay… i’ll give it back when i’m done.”

thanos nods in approval before pulling both of them into a firm but warm hug, pressing a kiss to their heads.

“that’s how you do it,” he murmurs.

watching from your spot, your heart swells at the sight. thanos might be strict, but in moments like this, he’s exactly the father he promised he would be.

“i hope you know you’re doing a good job,” you finally say, stepping forward.

thanos glances at you, something soft and unspoken in his eyes.

“i have to.”

kang sae-byeok x you

parenting styles:

you and sae-byeok are incredibly protective of hyun-jae, but in different ways.

sae-byeok has a sharp eye for danger, always keeping watch, while you focus more on emotionally supporting him.

sae-byeok, despite her tough exterior, is a very gentle mom.

she’s patient, never raising her voice, and always makes sure hyun-jae knows that he is loved.

you’re more relaxed when it comes to letting him explore and make mistakes, knowing that he needs to learn things for himself.

together, you raise him to be both brave and kind, knowing how to stand up for himself while also being thoughtful of others.

how many kids?:

five years after the games, you and sae-byeok go through IVF.

you carry a fertilized egg of sae-byeok's, making you both connected to your baby.

your son, hyun-jae, is born nine months later.

he looks just like sae-byeok.

same sharp eyes, same soft yet serious expression.

when hyun-jae is five, sae-byeok is the one pregnant with your second child, a baby girl.

she’s seven months along when hyun-jae starts school.

what does your first child, hyun-jae, look like?:

identical to sae-byeok. people always comment on how he’s her mini-me.

dark, straight hair that always seems to fall over his forehead no matter how many times you brush it away.

expressive eyes that make it easy to tell what he’s feeling, even when he’s quiet.

what is his personality like?:

shy at first, much like his uncle cheol, but he is not afraid to stand up for himself.

he’s brave in small but meaningful ways.

he loves offering a hand to someone who falls, defending his friends, speaking up when something feels wrong.

he loves his family deeply and has a hard time being away from you and sae-byeok for too long.

the morning of hyun-jae’s first day of school is filled with nervous energy.

you’re packing his lunch while sae-byeok kneels beside him, gently fixing his tiny backpack straps.

“i don’t wanna go,”

hyun-jae mumbles, gripping sae-byeok’s arm tightly.

the boy's big eyes look up at her, filled with worry.

“can’t i just stay with you and mama?”

sae-byeok, despite being seven months pregnant, crouches to his level, cupping his little face in her hands.

“baby, you’re going to have so much fun,” she reassures him.

“there are going to be toys, and new friends, and storytime. you won’t even notice how fast time goes.”

you kneel beside them, ruffling his hair.

“and we’ll be back before you know it,” you add.

he hesitates, glancing between the two of you, unsure. sae-byeok presses a kiss to his forehead before taking his small hand in hers.

“let’s go,” she says gently.

at the school, hyun-jae clings to sae-byeok’s hand the entire walk to his classroom.

the boy's tiny fingers grip hers, his knuckles turning white.

when you arrive at the classroom door, colorful posters line the walls, and shelves filled with toys and books create a warm, inviting space. inside, other kids are already playing, laughing as they explore the new environment.

hyun-jae peeks inside but doesn’t let go of sae-byeok’s hand.

“see?” you whisper to him.

“there’s so much to do. you’re gonna love it here.”

he still hesitates.

then, something catches his eye..

the art station, where dozens of bright-colored pencils and markers are scattered across a table.

another little boy is drawing, and when he looks up, he grins at hyun-jae.

that’s all it takes.

hyun-jae, almost forgetting his nerves, drops sae-byeok’s hand and rushes inside, immediately picking up a green crayon and joining his new classmate.

you and sae-byeok stand in the doorway, watching him with fond smiles.

when you glance at sae-byeok, her expression is different...her lips are slightly pursed, her eyes glossy.

you sigh knowingly.

“babe…”

sae-byeok blinks quickly, trying to stop the tears, but it’s no use. she lets out a soft sniffle, rubbing at her eyes.

“he’s just… so big now,” she murmurs.

“it feels like you just gave birth to him yesterday.”

you chuckle, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into your side.

“he’s happy. look at him.”

she sniffles again, nodding.

“i know. i just… i don’t know. i blame the pregnancy hormones.”

you press a kiss to her temple.

“he’s gonna be so loved here. and he’s gonna do great.”

sae-byeok exhales, leaning into you, and together, you watch as hyun-jae laughs, completely forgetting about his nerves as he starts drawing with his new friends.

just like that, your little boy is growing up.

kang dae-ho x you

parenting styles:

dae-ho is the fun parent.

the one who sits on the floor for tea parties, lets the kids paint his nails, and turns mundane things into an adventure.

he’s goofy and affectionate, always making the kids laugh.

you are still soft, but you make sure they grow up with responsibility, kindness, and respect.

you enforce rules when needed, guiding them to be the best versions of themselves.

neither of you believe in rigid gender roles.

whenever ji-sung grows older, dae-ho will make sure he knows it’s okay to express emotions, to cry if he needs to, and to never fall into toxic masculinity.

how many kids?:

four in total.

yeong-ja (8 years old)

ma-ri (6 years old)

young-mi (4 years old)

ji-sung (8 months old)

what are their physical and personality descriptions?:

yeong-ja: looks exactly like you and has your independent spirit. she’s sharp-witted and protective over her younger siblings.

ma-ri: again, has a mix of both of you in her features. she is a perfect balance between playfulness and being deeply introspective.

young-mi: inherited a lot from dae-ho’s side of the family, even looking like one of his sisters. she is the wildcard, full of energy and always surprising you both. she is named after one of your friends, young-mi, who died in the games.

ji-sung: is a carbon copy of dae-ho and the most relaxed baby, always content to be held or observe the chaos around him for his little age.

dinnertime is always lively in your house.

tonight, the kids sit in their usual spots.

yeong-ja next to ma-ri, young-mi across from them, and little ji-sung in his high chair, babbling between bites of mashed sweet potatoes.

dae-ho, as always, is helping feed the baby while also entertaining the older kids with exaggerated stories.

“did you know,” he begins dramatically, “that i was the youngest boy to four older sisters?”

yeong-ja’s eyes widen.

“like ji-sung?”

dae-ho nods, smiling.

“exactly like ji-sung.” he looks over at the baby, who giggles as he waves a tiny spoon in the air.

“he reminds me so much of myself.”

ma-ri, always curious, tilts her head.

“what were ur aunties like while growing up?”

dae-ho leans back, a fond smile on his lips.

“they were amazing. they were tough, smart, and they looked out for me. i was spoiled rotten, but they also didn’t let me get away with everything. sometimes I was used as their dress up doll.. but i was lucky to have them.”

young-mi, who had been quiet while eating, perks up.

“soooo… does that mean ji-sung is lucky too?”

you laugh softly, reaching to smooth down ji-sung’s soft hair.

“oh, he’s very lucky. he has three big sisters who love him just as much.”

yeong-ja grins, puffing out her chest proudly.

“of course! we have to protect him.”

dae-ho chuckles. “but you know, ji-sung won’t have to be all ‘tough guy’ when he grows up. he can talk about his feelings, he can be gentle, and he never has to hide who he is. just like you girls.”

ma-ri nods enthusiastically.

“yeah! boys can have tea parties too.”

dae-ho smirks, wiping some mashed potatoes off of ji-sung’s cheek.

“that’s right. and i love tea parties. i think we should have one this weekend.”

young-mi gasps.

“yes! i’ll set everything up!”

as the girls excitedly plan their next tea party, you smile, watching the way dae-ho interacts with them so effortlessly, so full of love.

he looks up and catches your gaze, his expression softening.

“you know this but,” you say, playing with your fork. “i grew up as an only child. having a big family like this is so new to me… but i love it so much.”

dae-ho reaches over, squeezing your hand gently.

“me too.”

ji-sung coos from his high chair, and as if on cue, young-mi wipes his mouth in the exact same way you do. yeong-ja and ma-ri continue chatting animatedly, and dae-h realizes—this is what happiness looks like.

se-mi x you

parenting styles:

you and se-mi are the same in many ways.

both soft, loving, and full of humor.

your home is always warm, filled with laughter and gentle affection.

you both vowed from the moment you adopted lee-an that she would always know love, always feel safe, and always have a family to rely on.

you encourage her curiosity, letting her explore and learn at her own pace, always there to cheer her on with open arms.

how many kids?:

just one, lee-an.

she came into your lives when she was only three months old, after se-mi’s close friend (lee-an's mom) passed away.

you and se-mi took her in without hesitation, knowing you would give her the life her mother would have wanted.

what does lee-an look like, whats her personality?:

she looks just like her biological mother.

dark hair, bright almond-shaped eyes, and the sweetest dimples that make her smile absolutely contagious.

lee-an is the happiest baby.

she is always smiling, always giggling, and always ready to charm everyone around her.

fearless in the best way, always eager to explore and try new things.

she loves food too.

if there’s something to eat, she’s interested.

you and se-mi sit on the floor, watching as lee-an clutches the couch with her tiny fingers, her little feet wobbling as she shifts her weight.

at this point, she is ten months old. she is soon to be walking.

“she’s thinking about it,”

se-mi whispers, her hand lightly resting on your knee.

you nod, smiling.

“she’s been cruising along the furniture for weeks. maybe today’s the day.”

lee-an glances between the two of you, her dimpled cheeks rising as she gives you a toothy grin.

then, her attention shifts to se-mi, who is holding an apple in her hand.

“ooh,” se-mi coos, wiggling the fruit playfully.

“do you want this, baby!?”

lee-an’s eyes go wide, her excitement bubbling over as she lets out a happy squeal.

then, without thinking, she lets go of the couch.

your breath catches as her chubby legs take their first shaky steps forward, one foot, then another, her arms outstretched for balance.

“that’s it, baby!” you cheer.

“keep going, lee-an!” se-mi encourages, her voice full of pride.

lee-an giggles, her steps uneven but determined.

she stumbles a little, but she doesn’t fall. the girl's baby eyes stay locked on the apple, her motivation clear.

step by step, she makes her way toward se-mi’s lap.

by the time she finally reaches her, she plops down with a victorious huff, grabbing onto se-mi’s knee.

se-mi laughs, running a hand through lee-an’s soft hair.

“you did it, sweetheart!”

you lean in, pressing a kiss to her round cheek.

“so proud of you, baby.”

lee-an giggles loudly, her tiny hands reaching for the apple. se-mi hands it to her, and she immediately takes a messy bite, her whole face lighting up.

you and se-mi exchange a glance, both of you filled with overwhelming love.

“our little girl is walking,” se-mi murmurs.

you smile, wrapping an arm around her.

“and she’s only just getting started.”

park gyeong-seok x you

parenting styles:

gyeong-seok naturally leans into more traditional parenting.

he assumes that parents always know best and sometimes struggles to admit when he’s wrong.

he has a strong sense of responsibility and believes in structure, discipline, and respect.

you, on the other hand, follow newer, more loving methods.

you believe in understanding emotions, validating feelings, and talking through issues rather than just enforcing rules.

despite the 12 year difference between the couple, you and gyeong-seok both balance each other out.

gyeong-seok is learning to be more flexible, and you sometimes let him take the lead when it’s needed.

what matters most is that your home is always full of love.

how many kids?:

you came into the relationship with hana, your seven year old daughter, when you met gyeong-seok during the games.

gyeong-seok had na-yeon, his three-year-old daughter from a past relationship.

when your families merged, the two girls became inseparable.

it was like they had always been sisters.

what do your daughters look like?:

hana looks exactly like you.

same features, same expressions, same smile.

na-yeon, on the other hand, takes after her biological mother, but as she grows, she picks up so many of your mannerisms that people often assume she’s biologically yours.

what are their personalities?:

hana, despite resembling you in looks, starts adopting gyeong-seok’s sense of responsibility and protectiveness.

she is always watching out for na-yeon, making sure she’s safe and taken care of. sometimes she’s a little too protective, but it comes from love.

na-yeon is full of energy and warmth.

she adores her family and has picked up your habit of always checking in on people.

she asks, “are you okay?” even over the smallest things.

if one of them gets scolded for something unsafe, the other one is immediately upset, standing by her sister’s side against you and gyeong-seok.

the house is quiet, save for the soft hum of the shower running in the bathroom. gyeong-seok glances at the clock...bedtime.

he sighs, rubbing his face before turning to the two girls sitting on the couch, clearly fighting off sleep.

“alright, time for bed,”

he announces, standing up.

hana groans.

“but—”

“no buts,” gyeong-seok says, scooping na-yeon into his arms. she immediately clings to him, resting her head against his shoulder.

“you’ll thank me in the morning.”

hana sighs dramatically but follows, rubbing her eyes as they head upstairs.

the girls’ shared room is warm and cozy, decorated in soft pink and sage green tones. their beds sit on opposite sides of the room, identical in design but decorated with their own personal touches.

hana’s with her stuffed animals lined up neatly, na-yeon’s with her favorite bunny plush tucked under the blanket.

gently, gyeong-seok places na-yeon in her bed, tucking the blanket up to her chin before turning to do the same for hana.

he brushes her hair back, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“goodnight,” he murmurs.

hana mumbles a tired response, already half-asleep.

before leaving, he remembers na-yeon’s medicine.

he heads to the kitchen, grabs the small bottle, and returns...only to find that na-yeon is no longer in her bed.

instead, she has climbed into hana’s, curling up right beside her sister.

gyeong-seok raises an eyebrow, walking over to the bed. hana hasn’t stirred, still deep in sleep, while na-yeon blinks up at him sleepily.

“why aren’t you in your bed?” he asks, kneeling down.

na-yeon shifts, hugging her bunny plush close before whispering,

“safe.”

gyeong-seok’s chest tightens.

usually, he’d remind na-yeon to sleep in her own bed, to give hana space.

hana doesn’t seem to mind...her arm is loosely wrapped around na-yeon, holding her close even in sleep.

with a small smile, gyeong-seok smooths na-yeon’s hair.

“alright. just for tonight.”

na-yeon hums in contentment, her eyes slipping shut.

leaning against the doorway, you watch the scene unfold, a soft smile on your lips.

gyeong-seok catches your eye, shaking his head fondly before standing up and walking toward you.

“you’re soft,” you tease in a whisper.

he exhales, running a hand through his hair.

“what can i do? they’ve got me wrapped around their fingers.”

you press a kiss to his shoulder, warmth blooming in your chest as you both watch your daughters sleep.

cho sang-woo x you

parenting styles:

sang-woo is laid-back but firm when it comes to discipline.

he expects responsibility and effort from the kids, but he never raises his voice.

he believes in teaching them rather than punishing them.

you, being seventeen years younger than sangwoo, have all the energy in the world for your kids.

you’re the one running to every sports event, helping with every school project, and making sure they have the most fun childhood possible.

together, you and sang-woo balance each other out. while he’s the rational, calm parent.

you bring warmth, excitement, and emotional support.

how many kids?:

the both of you have twins!

eun-ho is the boy. younger by one hour.

eun-ji is the girl. older by one hour.

what does eun-ho and eun-ji look like? what are their personalities?:

both twins resemble you more than sang-woo.

however, eun-ho has distinct features that remind everyone of his paternal grandmother.

eun-ji is the spitting image of you, often mistaken for your younger self in old photos.

both kids are extremely smart.

eun-ho is more logical and precise, while eun-ji is clever and adaptive.

eun-ho is more english and history smart.

eun-ji is more math and science smart.

they inherited their kindness from their grandmother, who loves them deeply.

eun-ho is quieter and more reserved, while eun-ji is bold and quick-thinking.

despite their differences, they are inseparable and always help each other out.

the kitchen table is covered with notebooks, pencils, and scattered worksheets.

the twins sit across from each other, identical expressions of frustration on their faces.

“ugh,” eun-ji groans, dropping her pencil.

“i don’t get it.”

the eleven year olds huff, with eun-ho pushing his glasses up his nose.

“me neither. this is the hardest question ever.”

sang-woo, who had just finished reviewing some work, looks over and leans in.

“let me see.”

eun-ji immediately slides her worksheet over.

“this one. it makes no sense.”

eun-ho nods.

“we tried everything, but it’s just not clicking.”

sang-woo studies the problem for a moment before explaining it in a way that makes sense.

clear, concise, and just challenging enough for them to figure it out on their own.

he guides them through it, asking the right questions, making them think.

after a few moments, eun-ji’s eyes widen.

“wait… wait, i get it!”

eun-ho’s fingers fly across the paper, scribbling down numbers.

“i got the answer! is this right?”

sang-woo smiles subtly.

“let’s see.” he checks the work, then nods. “perfect.”

both twins light up before suddenly launching themselves at sang-woo, hugging him tightly.

“you’re the smartest, dad!” eun-ji says, squeezing him.

“seriously, how do you know everything?” eun-ho adds, looking up at him in admiration.

sang-woo chuckles, rubbing their backs.

“i don’t know everything,” he humbly replies, “but I do know this.”

you, watching from the doorway, smile at the sight. seeing your kids adore sang-woo, seeing him soak in their love despite his usual reserved nature, makes your heart swell.

“you’re such a nerd,” you tease, walking over and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

sang-woo smirks.

“and yet, you married me.”

the twins groan playfully at the affection, but they’re still beaming as they return to their homework, feeling accomplished..

namgyu x you

parenting styles:

namgyu is a free-range parent.

he doesn’t believe in too much discipline and prefers to let seo-hoo explore the world on his own terms.

whenever seo-hoo asks for something, namgyu’s immediate response is, “ask your mom,” because he doesn’t like making final decisions.

he fully trusts you to be the responsible one.

despite his laid-back approach, he is incredibly loving and present in seo-hoo’s life, always ready to play, teach, and encourage him.

you, on the other hand, provide the structure, making sure seo-hoo grows up responsible while still being able to enjoy his free-spirited nature.

how many kids?:

just one, seo-hoo.

the energetic, mischievous six-year-old son namgyu and you have who is the light of both your lives.

what does seo-hoo look like? what is his personality?:

he looks just like you, from his eyes to his facial expressions.

the only trait he got from namgyu physically is the way he smiles.

a wide, bright grin that makes it impossible to stay mad at him.

he is all of namgyu’s energy bottled into a tiny body.

seo-hoo is always moving, always curious, and never stays in one place for too long.

honestly, you might want to get your son checked for hyperactive ADHD.

he loves playing sports, especially soccer, because it’s something he shares with namgyu.

sea-hoo is naturally confident, not afraid to try new things, and sometimes takes risks he probably shouldn’t.

you arrive home from work, pushing the front door open only to hear soft murmurs coming from the living room.

“okay, okay, stay still, buddy,”

namgyu’s voice says gently.

curious, you step inside and see your six-year-old son, seo-hoo, sitting on the couch with his leg propped up on a pillow.

namgyu is kneeling in front of him, his brows furrowed in deep concentration as he carefully dabs alcohol on a small scrape on seo-hoo’s knee.

seo-hoo winces.

“owww, it stings!”

namgyu blows on the wound immediately.

“i know, little man, but it’ll be over soon. just gotta get all the bad stuff out, then i’ll put the coolest spiderman bandaid on it.”

seo-hoo pouts, still wiggling his foot.

“promise?”

namgyu grins.

“i swear on all the ice cream in the fridge.”

you lean against the doorway, watching as namgyu applies the bandaid with more care than you’ve ever seen him use for anything else.

he gently pats seo-hoo’s leg, making sure the bandaid sticks properly before sitting back.

“all done. see? you survived.”

seo-hoo examines the blue and red bandaid like it’s a badge of honor.

“do i look cool?”

namgyu laughs.

“so cool. i bet all your friends are gonna ask where you got it.”

finally stepping forward, you clear your throat, making both of them look up.

“what happened?”

namgyu rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“uh… we were playing soccer outside, and he went for this huge kick..”

“it was awesome, mom,” seo-hoo chimes in.

“like boom! but then I fell.”

you sigh, shaking your head, but there’s no real frustration behind it.

“you okay now, baby?”

seo-hoo nods, proudly pointing at his bandaid.

“dad fixed me.”

you glance at namgyu, who shrugs, trying to play it cool, but there’s warmth in his eyes. even though he always jokes about not being the ‘responsible’ parent, you see it—the way he pays attention, the way he takes care of your son in the most genuine ways.

you walk over, pressing a kiss to seo-hoo’s head before leaning down to kiss namgyu’s cheek.

“you did good.”

namgyu huffs a laugh.

“don’t sound so surprised.”

you roll your eyes, but when you see the small, proud smile on his lips as he watches seo-hoo bounce excitedly on the couch, your heart swells.

he might not always think of himself as the responsible parent, but you know the truth... he’s the most caring dad in the world.

the salesman x you

parenting styles:

the salesman is always busy with work, rarely home during the day,

he makes sure his family has everything they need.

he contributes 100% financially, ensuring that you and the kids live comfortably.

you, on the other hand, handle the everyday parenting, making sure your children grow up to be kind, humble, and well-grounded despite their wealth.

the salesman is more of an enigma to the kids.

present in their lives, but not always physically there.

when he is, though, he makes sure they feel loved.

how many kids?:

three in total.

ho-joon is the oldest son, being sixteen years old.

jae-hoon is the middle son, being twelve years old .

ji-woo is the youngest, being the only girl, only ten years old.

what does ho-joon, jae-hoon, and ji-woo look like? what are their personalities?

all three kids take after their father.

the salesman’s genes are just that strong.

sharp, defined features, dark hair, and the same quiet, intense eyes.

they all inherited his reserved nature.

none of them are loud or overly expressive, but they carry themselves with quiet confidence.

ho-joon is naturally more responsible, often looking out for his younger siblings.

jae-hoon prefers to do his own thing, not overly attached to his family but still respects and loves them.

ji-woo is the softest, the most reserved, and the most attached to you, preferring your presence over anyone else's.

it is a quiet afternoon when ho-joon, jae-hoon, and ji-woo were walking home together after school, the late sun casting warm light over the streets.

as they strolled past a familiar row of shops, ho-joon suddenly noticed a familiar figure walking into a pastry shop.

he stopped in his tracks.

“dad?” he mumbled, narrowing his eyes at the man in the sleek black suit disappearing into the storefront.

jae-hoon followed his gaze.

“huh? guess he’s not working right now.”

without hesitation, ho-joon took the lead, holding the door open for his younger siblings as they all stepped inside.

the scent of freshly baked pastries filled the air, and there, standing by the counter, was their father, scanning the selection of treats.

when he turned and saw his three children standing before him, a rare, genuine smile spread across his face.

“ah,” the salesman hummed, amused.

“i wasn’t expecting to see you all here? I'm guessing you guys were walking home from school.”

ji-woo’s small hand gripped ho-joon’s sleeve as she stayed close, peeking up at her father with big, quiet eyes.

ho-joon crossed his arms.

“we caught you sneaking around.”

jae-hoon smirked.

“are you on a secret mission, dad?”

the salesman chuckled, shaking his head.

“something like that.” he turned to the worker behind the counter.

“let’s get them whatever they want.”

ji-woo, who had been clinging to her older brother, suddenly brightened.

“really?”

he gave her a soft nod, and the kids wasted no time picking out their favorite pastries.

once they were settled at a corner table, the salesman took a seat with them, hands folded neatly on the table.

“so,” ho-joon started, taking a bite of his treat, “what do you actually do for work?”

jae-hoon leaned forward.

“yeah. we never really asked you or mom before.”

the salesman smirked, tilting his head slightly.

“it’s classified.”

ho-joon huffed.

“figures.”

ji-woo, swinging her legs under the chair, looked up at him with innocent curiosity.

“but you take care of us?”

his expression softened.

“of course.” he reached out, ruffling her hair.

“everything i do is to make sure you’re all comfortable and happy.”

the kids exchanged glances. they weren’t stupid...they knew whatever their father did wasn’t normal.

at the same time, they never had to worry about anything.

they had a nice home, good education, get whatever they want, and have a life many people could only dream of.

“we know,” ho-joon finally said, leaning back in his chair.

“and we appreciate it.”

the salesman smiled again, something rare and genuine.

“i love you all. you know that, right?”

ji-woo immediately nodded.

“i know, dad.”

jae-hoon smirked.

“you could say it more often, though.”

ho-joon nudged him.

“shut up, he’s trying.”

the salesman let out a small chuckle, shaking his head.

as they finished their pastries, he checked the time before standing.

“come on. i’ll make sure you all get home safely,” he said, adjusting his suit jacket.

they walked together, the salesman taking slow strides beside them.

he wasn’t home often, but moments that were quiet, and personal with his children.. were what kept him going.

happy valentine's day <3 I hope you enjoyed :)

𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑡𝑤𝑜

this took sixteen days to complete.

[vrystalius]

Baby fever.

Gong Yoo has forbidden himself to fantasise about a peaceful family life. He does not deserve one, neither does he deserve you as as his partner.

Pairing: Recruiter/Gong Yoo x afab!reader (no pronouns used)

Summary: You’re noticing how your husband has been acting a little distant lately but he keeps acting like nothing is wrong. You decide to confront him.

Words: 1.1k

Genre: angsty fluff

Warning: Pregnancy description, spoilers for his backstory

(Here are some HCs on him and other Squid game men as dads and how they act during your pregnancy if you’re interested!!)

He mainly married you to keep up his appearances to the public. That’s what he believed your marriage to be in the beginning anyway, but falling for you hit him like a truck Gong Yoo missed to spot while crossing the street. Now he can barely step outside the door without thinking about you, your safety, your cute face, your lips and whatever else there is to possibly think about a person.

Imagining you pregnant was a rather frequent fantasy he had. Not in a perverse way that could make one wonder about how sane he exactly is, but rather about how adorable you’d look when you waddle around the apartment, how it would feel to hold you from behind and lift your heavy belly for you, the sight of new stretch marks decorating your body more and more, listening to you baby’s heartbeat.

Even the unpleasant aspects of a pregnancy seem appealing to him for some reason. Holding your hair during a wave of morning sickness and emptying your stomach’s contents into the toilet, preparing a warm bath for your swollen feet, odd cravings where he can only pray for his child’s health while you inhale your exotic plate with a smile.

While future players of the game slam their dakji square against the one on the floor, Gong Yoo stood there with his arms behind his back, literally drowning in a baby fever. Only the sound of the square hitting the other and failing to flip over unpleasantly ripped him out of the trance, reminding him of his occupation that would make it much harder to have a simple, oblivious and lovely family life.

You noticed how much somber your husband has gotten lately. Sure, he was still affectionate as ever and never failed to bring flowers, chocolate or whatever else you desired, but you could see how something was clearly bothering him. Asking what is bothering him will only result in him using his charming recruiter persona to deflect your worries right back at you, bastard.

One evening, while your legs were draped over his thighs after making yourselves comfortable on the couch, empty take out boxes on the coffee table in front of you. You were the only one paying attention to the TV broadcast though.

Your husband’s fingers slowly traced invisible patters on your thigh while his eyes glossed over nothing.

“You’re so quiet lately. Did something happen at work?” Gong Yoo’s eyes slowly shifted to look at you, his hand coming to a stop on your thigh right above your knee. He leaned his head back against the couch cushion. “I’m just thinking a lot about you lately. You’re quite distracting, you know that?”

Again, he’s deflection your worry and question to turn it right back at you. Unamused, you slid your legs off his lap and lifted yourself from your comfortably lying position. You were clearly unamused and he could tell. A small sigh escaped his lips and he closed his eyes for a moment. “No, nothing happened at work. I’m really thinking about you a lot lately.”

“Then exactly are you thinking about then?” You noticed his eyes trying to shift away from you, anywhere else than to look into your eyes. Your hand gently took his into yours, your fingers interlocking with his. You watched him glance down at your two rings, the rings that symbolise marriage and partnership. He emitted a deeper sigh. “I’m thinking about our future together, I suppose.”

You cocked your head in confusion. “Kids. I’m thinking about kids.” Gong Yoo elaborated. “Our kids to be exact.” His grip on your hand got a little tighter as if you’re about to pull away. Instead, you pulled his hand towards yourself. “So… what do you think?” You mumbled, briefly running your fingers through his hair.

Your husband shrugged, his lips turning into a small frown. “I want them, don’t get me wrong, I just— I don’t know. I’m not sure if I…” He took a deep breath before continuing. “If you want them with me, if I would be a good father… My own father wasn’t the greatest and what if I’m going to be just like him, you know?”

Silence fell between you two, the TV serving as l white noise in the background. An endearing smile broke out on your face as you ran your knuckles over his surprisingly sweaty cheek. Opening up to you takes a toll put of him apparently. His eyes closed shut as you briefly admired his lashes fluttered against his skin. His whole face softened.

“So, firstly, I do want children with you and only you. Remember that.” The cold metal of your ring made Gong Yoo shiver under your touch. Your hand cupped his cheek as he slowly opened his eyes again. “Secondly, you’ll be a good father, someone yours never was.”

Your husband scoffed slightly as a larger smile began to break out on his face. It was a little funny to him how you answered him so honestly and kindly, not even knowing the full story between him and his father and how it ended.

Your words did warm his heart. The fantasy of a perfect life with you didn’t seem so taboo anymore, so distant and unreachable. It felt like it was just a moment away.

Gong Yoo leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on your lips, his lips felt soft and gentle. His warm breath fanned your face as his hand slipped out of yours to cup your cheek and angle your face for his tongue to briefly slip between your lips. Pulling away, his forehead rested against yours as his eyes stared into yours.

“Do you mean that? Are you really sure?” You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at how nervous he really was. “I am as sure as I was when I married you, dear.”

Your husband leaned back in for another kiss, this one was much more brief, teasing almost. “Well would you… like to start trying? For a child I mean.”

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading!

As I am posting this I am around 2-3 hours away from arriving at the ski resort. Half of this was written while I was a little nauseous so apologies for any inconsistencies or mistakes as I was in and out of it. The other half was written while I listened to a mix of J-Pop, K-Pop, Hamilton musical, Rap, Odetari. My music taste is quite unique :,) Anyways, I’ll be posting again soon or tonight! It’s going to be either about Thanos or In-ho!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, DRINK and SLEEP enough!!

Take care or yourselves <3

[greengoblinswifey]

Fatal Attraction

pairing— The Salesman x Recruiter!Reader

summary— You and the Salesman share an undeniable attraction that’s filled with playful banter and sexual chemistry, despite the risks of being involved as recruiters for the Squid Game. It eventually boils over in a way you didn’t expect. based on this request.

warnings— sexual tension, flirting, jealousy, switch!salesman, manipulation, groping, slight voyeurism, thigh riding, praise kink.

a/n— part 2?🤭

Part II

The evening air was cloudy as the city hummed around you. Dressed in a chic black dress that hugged your figure and a pair of sleek red bottom heels, you walked through the dimly lit streets with an air of effortless confidence. Your black curls cascaded over your shoulders, catching the light as you moved, each step commanding attention. The world around you seemed to part as men turned their heads, unable to resist the allure you exuded.

You smirked, feeling the eyes on you. Most of the time, you didn’t need to say a word. They came to you. A flirtatious smile was all it took, and you knew that by the time they left, they'd be clutching the game card in their hands, their minds already made up. It was easy, really. Your beauty and charm were weapons, subtle but deadly, and you wielded them with precision. It was no wonder they hired you.

Behind you, the Salesman was watching. His gaze followed you, a mix of admiration and something else, something darker? He’d always been fascinated by you, but you knew he wouldn’t admit it. His competitive streak ran deep, and that was what made the dynamic between the two of you so—interesting. You had a way of making him lose focus, just for a moment, and he hated how much he liked it.

“Are you always this distracting?” he asked. He stepped closer, his presence almost predatory as you felt his eyes linger on you for too long.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you teased.

He narrowed his eyes, clearly annoyed but intrigued at the same time. “You're making it hard for me to concentrate,” he said.

You leaned in just enough to feel the heat between you, brushing past him sultry, making sure to brush your ass against hun. “Well,” you said, your voice a whisper, “maybe you just need to focus more.”

The way his jaw tightened gave you a little thrill. He wasn’t used to being the one distracted, but there you were, effortlessly captivating him. He hated that you had this power over him, but at the same time, it only fueled his need to be around you.

As you approached a group of lower class men, you effortlessly captured their attention, your words emphasized as you explained the game to them, each one of them hanging on your every word. They didn’t even care about the money anymore, they were entranced by you, by the way you spoke, the way you looked, the way your eyes sparkled with mystery.

You glanced over your shoulder, catching the Salesman’s narrowed eyes. There was a flicker of jealousy there, and you smiled to yourself. He was usually so composed, so in control, but when it came to you, it was clear he was a little off balance.

As you handed the last card to a willing participant, you turned back toward him, catching frustration in his eyes. “You’re still looking at my ass,” you noted. “Is there something you want to say?”

His eyes flickered to yours, something passing between you, but instead of responding immediately, he took a step closer, cornering you against a nearby wall. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel his breath on your skin, and for a moment, the world around you both seemed to fade away.

“We need to focus,” you said, your voice a mix of teasing and determination. You could feel his body heat radiating against yours, and for just a second, you almost let go. But the chemistry between you two was a game of its own, one you weren’t ready to lose yet.

His lips hovered inches from yours, but you moved away just in time, leaving him wanting more, the silent promise of what could be lingering in the air between you. You walked away, leaving him there, caught between frustration and fascination.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, but there was a smile at his lips. He couldn’t stay mad at you for long.

“You love it,” you called over your shoulder with a wink, and he couldn’t argue with that.

The bustling subway platform crowded, filled with footsteps, idle chatter, and the occasional rumble of an approaching train. You stood poised, elegant as ever while the Salesman stood nearby, his briefcase in hand and his usual smirk in place, but even he couldn't deny that all eyes were on you.

“You’re making this too easy,” he said, his voice laced with amusement as he watched another man approach you, drawn in like a moth to a flame.

“Not my fault I have—certain advantages,” you replied, letting your hand drift over your tits for just a moment before returning to the man who had approached you.

The man stammered as you handed him a game card, your voice smooth as you explained the rules. He barely registered the words, too mesmerized by the way you leaned in just enough to catch his attention.

From the corner of your eye, you saw the Salesman watching, his expression a mixture of pride and annoyance.

“You’re going to spoil them,” he muttered under his breath as the man walked away, clutching the card like it was a love letter.

“Jealous?”

“Hardly,” he shot back, but the way his jaw tightened said otherwise.

As you moved through the station, you approached another potential recruit, a man sitting on a bench, his head in his hands. His clothes were old, his expression weary. You softened your approach, sitting beside him with a look of genuine concern.

“I couldn’t help but notice you look like you could use a fresh start,” you began, your voice gentle.

The man looked up, startled by your presence. His eyes widened as he took in your appearance, clearly caught off guard.

“It’s not easy, is it?” you continued, your tone having fake empathy. “But I can offer you something better. A chance to turn things around.”

By the time you handed him the card, the man was nodding eagerly, his despair replaced by a spark of hope.

The Salesman watched from a distance, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re a witch,” he said when you returned to his side. “The way you manipulate people—it’s almost unfair.”

“Takes one to know one,” you said smiling.

Later that evening, the two of you stood in a crowded peak, each of you scanning the crowd for potential players. He approached a group of men, his signature ddakji tiles in hand. “Care for a game?” he offered, his tone inviting.

The men glanced at him, then at you, their interest shifting immediately.

“Actually, we’d rather play with her,” one of them said, his gaze fixed on you.

You smirked, stepping closer to the Salesman and leaning in just enough to make him flinch. “Looks like you’ve got competition,” you whispered.

“Careful, or I might start charging for your services,” he retorted.

As the men prepared to play, you caught the Salesman watching you again. You met his gaze, your lips curving into a sly smile. Then, almost unknowingly, you bit your bottom lip, letting the subtle action hang heavy in the air.

His eyes darkened, his composure slipping for just a moment before you stepped away, leaving him standing there, frustrated and wanting more.

During one particularly tense recruitment, a man you’d just handed a card to glanced between you and the Salesman, frowning. “You two, you should really sort out whatever this is,” he said, gesturing between you.

Without missing a beat, you turned to him. “What you need to sort out is that broke issue you have,”you retorted, leaving him sputtering as you walked away.

“You’re ruthless,” the Salesman laughed, shaking his head.

“And you love it,” you shot back, not even bothering to deny it.

As the night wore on, the two of you found yourselves alone again, leaning against a railing overlooking the city. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his hand brushing against your arm. For a moment, it seemed like he might close the distance, but you stepped back, breaking the spell.

“Back up,” you snapped.

He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “One day, you’re not going to walk away,” he said.

You smiled, turning away as your curls bounced with each step. “Good luck with that,” you called over your shoulder, leaving him to brew in his frustration once again.

Another evening at the busy train station, you and the Salesman stood on opposite sides of the platform, each scanning for potential recruits. You caught his eye briefly before a man in a tattered suit approached you. He didn’t hesitate to ask your name, his interest plain.

The Salesman watched from a distance as you gave the man a coy smile, tilting your head to send the perfect signal. The man eagerly accepted the card you handed him, and even after walking away, he kept glancing back at you.

“Showing off again?” the Salesman said as he finally approached.

“Not my fault,” you said with a shrug. “They just come to me.”

“They should try not flirting with you for once,” he muttered, his jaw tightening as his gaze darted to the men still watching you.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” you laughed softly, leaning in for him to smell your perfume.

Later that night, the two of you walked back to the car after another successful round of recruitment. He was unusually quiet as you strolled under the streetlights, the faint sound of your heels breaking the silence.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, glancing up at him.

He hesitated, then said, “I was just thinking, how do you do it?”

“Do what?”

He stopped walking and turned to face you. “Get everyone to fall at your feet like that.”

You tilted your head, a small smile on your lips. “It’s a gift. But don’t worry, you’re not immune.”

He shook his head, his smirk returning.

During one recruitment night, you and the Salesman found yourselves at a lounge. You moved effortlessly through the room, drawing attention without even trying. At the bar, a man offered to buy you a drink, and you accepted with a polite smile, leaning in to keep him hooked.

From across the room, the Salesman watched, his jaw clenching when the man leaned closer to whisper something in your ear. You laughed lightly, slipping the card into the man’s jacket pocket before walking away.

When you rejoined the Salesman, he raised an eyebrow. “Enjoy yourself?”

“Totally,” you replied, sipping the drink you had brought back with you.

“Next time, I’ll be the one buying you a drink,” He leaned in, his voice low.

You looked up at him, your lips curving into a playful smile. “If you’re lucky.”

One late night, as you were reviewing the day’s ‘victims’, a playful argument broke out between you two.

“You only got that guy at the park because I wasn’t there,” he teased, leaning against the table.

“Oh, please,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “He wouldn’t have looked at your ass twice.”

“Care to bet on that?”

You met his gaze, unfazed. “Fine. Loser buys dinner.”

“Deal.”

As he turned to leave, you called after him, “You should practice your flirting first. Wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself.”

Another evening you stood on the busy street corner, your black dress and signature heels drawing stares as usual. A potential recruit leaned lazily against a lamppost, his attitude immediately grating.

“You think I’m fucking stupid enough to fall for this?” he sneered, flicking the card you handed him back toward you. His tone was sharp, his words laced with anger.

Your smile tightened, but you didn’t break your composure. “I wouldn’t say stupid, but if the shoe fits—”

The man stepped closer, his expression darkening. “Listen, woman, don’t test me. You think your little tricks work on everyone?”

Before you could respond, the Salesman appeared at your side, his eyes narrowing as he sized up the man. Without warning, his fist connected with the man’s jaw, sending him falling backward. The man scrambled to his feet, muttering curses as he stumbled away.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s my job to make sure you’re safe,” he replied firmly, his voice softer now as his eyes stayed on yours.

For the first time, you faltered. His protectiveness caught you off guard, leaving you unsure of what to say.

He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “How about dinner?”

“Sure, what the hell.”

The restaurant was cozy and dimly lit, a bit romantic. You sat across from him, sipping your wine as laughter filled your small talk. For the first time, the banter felt easy, natural.

The waitress arrived to refill your drinks and smiled warmly at the two of you. “You two make a great couple,” she said.

You opened your mouth to correct her, but the Salesman beat you to it. “Yes, we do,” he said, his grin almost asking you to challenge him.

You shot him a look, your eyebrow arching. He just shrugged, clearly enjoying himself.

As the meal continued, you slipped off your Louis Vuittons under the table, your stocking clad foot gliding toward him. You made contact with his leg first, and when he didn’t react, you moved higher.

His fork clattered against his plate when your toes brushed against his cock. He coughed, his eyes darting to yours.

“Careful,” you said, tilting your head innocently.

“What—what are you doing?” he stammered.

“What do you mean?” you asked, as if you had no idea what he was talking about.

His jaw clenched as he tried to maintain his composure, but you could see the cracks forming. “Act normal,” you murmured softly, your foot still teasing his cock. “Wouldn’t want anyone to know what we’re doing.”

He nodded stiffly, attempting to make small talk, but his sentences came out broken and stuttered. You held back a laugh, savoring his discomfort.

By the time the meal ended, you had stopped, sitting back in your chair and putting your heels back on with a satisfied smirk as he paid the bill.

The drive back to your apartment was quiet, but the air between you was filled with more tension than usual. You placed your hand on his thigh, rubbing lightly as he gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“Why are you so tense?” you asked.

“Don’t act dumb,” he muttered, his voice strained.

You giggled, sliding your hand higher until you reached his bulge. His sharp inhale didn’t go unnoticed, and you leaned back in your seat, thoroughly enjoying yourself.

When you finally reached your apartment, he followed you inside, closing the door behind him. Before you could take another step, he spun you around and pressed you against the door, his hands braced on either side of your head.

His face was close to yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m sick of your games,” he growled. “It doesn’t matter what happens out there. In here, I’m in control.”

You bit your lip, your pulse quickening. “Yes, sir,” you murmured, your voice teasing.

That was all it took for his restraint to snap.

His lips crashed against yours. It was magnetic, a clash of sexual tension and pent up frustration. His hands framed your face as if you were going to slip away. Your arms went around his neck instinctively, drawing him closer. The world outside the apartment ceased to exist. His lips moved with a ferocity that made you forget every rule you were breaking.

Before you could even catch your breath, he lifted you effortlessly, his hands firm on your thighs as he carried you through the dimly lit apartment. His strength, his control, sent something through you. He didn’t hesitate, pushing open the door to the bedroom with his shoulder, and setting you down in his lap as he sank onto the edge of the bed.

You slowly began grinding on him, his hands moved to your waist, guiding you instinctively. “You always know how to push me, don’t you?” he murmured against your lips.

“Me? I think you’re the one who—”

He cut you off with a smirk, his grip tightening. “Ride my thigh,” he said suddenly.

Your heart beat faster. “W-what?” you stammered, caught off guard.

“You heard me,” he repeated, his dark gaze locking with yours. “Show me how much control you really have.”

Your breath hitched as his hands remained steady on your hips, guiding you forward. You hesitated, unsure if this was a line you should cross, but his touch, his words, it was consuming. Slowly, you moved on his thigh, the friction and the intimacy making your pulse quicken.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “Just like that.”

His praise sent a thrill through you, but as the moment grew more intense, the reality of the situation began to creep in. Your hips moved back and forth and your head fell back as the pleasure began to build in a way you didn’t expect. You were leaking through your thong and stockings, staining his pants. His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face so you couldn’t avoid his gaze. “Cum on my thigh,” he whispered.

The coil in your abdomen snapped, your release hitting you like a truck, and you sagged against him, breathless and unsure how things had escalated this far. His arms wrapped around you as he steadied you, holding you close as the weight of what just happened sank in.

“W-we shouldn’t be doing this,” you whispered, breaking the silence.

“No,” he agreed, his voice low. “But I’m not stopping.”

The rules echoed in your mind, the Front Man’s orders, the consequences if you were caught. You knew you were playing with fire, but there was no denying the pull between you.

“If he finds out,” you trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

His thumb brushed against your cheek as he met your gaze. “He won’t,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The words hung in the air, a reassurance and a promise all at once. You knew it wasn’t that simple, but in his arms, you felt obligated to believe.