#i think i heard a college friend mention it once but other than that i know nothin about sally face | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tqmies · 1 year ago

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In Disguise

Description. Desperate and broke, your trio of nerdy friends offer you a place to stay until you get back on your feet. Things are normal at first until you abruptly come across a camera tripod facing Doyoung's bed. Were your awkward friends really just camboy's in disguise?

Pairing. Kim Doyoung x Yuta Nakamoto x Kim Jungwoo x Fem Reader

Genre. SMUT, Camboy!AU, College!AU, Roomates! MDNI!

Warnings. Foursome (Do I even have to say it?), Unrealistic depictions of sex overall, A little MxM action, Fingering, Oral, Condoms taken off, Plan B mentioned, Voyeurism, Creampie, Degradation, Praise

Word count. 13K (oh...)

Note: This was supposed to be out ages ago but I'm proud (not rlly) to present this mess of a wet dream!

"You have no idea how grateful I really am." You state, placing down your last box into the vacant room. You sigh in relief as your back was literally killing you too much to drag another box up. And that was that the boys had helped you with a majority of it.

"You've said it a million times, I think we know." Yuta teases, opening the box on your bed as he shuffles through it. It was old books you had brought from your place, well a few of the tons you had. Most of them had to go into storage due to lack of room at your newest living arrangement.

Truthfully, you felt really bad about this whole thing, even though Yuta kept assuring you it was alright, all the boys did. But something felt terrible about rooming with your friends for free, and kicking Yuta out of his room at that.

The boys didn't want you to feel weird about sharing a room, so Yuta slept in the same room as Jungwoo for the time being, and that made you feel even worse.

"You can have your room back, I promise I can sleep on the couch."

"Then where would you put your stuff?"

And you had pretty much lost the argument then and there, but you were determined to make up for rent in other ways. You'd clean, do laundry, and cook a few of the meals you had mastered. You could buy groceries and maybe even pay the water bill every once in a while. Not that you planned to stay here for long, only until you found another job, seeing as the one you had rapidly started laying people off.

Which brought you back to square one, Yuta’s bed.

Not like that, get your mind out of the gutter!

"I'm home!" Jungwoo announces as you hear the front door shut, his loudness already alerting you. You heard the loud clank of his keys on the counter, and his footsteps making their way towards you.

"We just finished bringing all the boxes up." Doyoung comments, giving Jungwoo a much deserved side eye.

"Oh I made it just in time then."

Jungwoo came bearing gifts though, handing out bottles of water to you guys. "I got them from one of the tents on campus, here's a shirt too!"

And before you know it, you're being hit in the head with the shirt Jungwoo threw at your face. You throw it off as you jokingly threaten him. "I'm going to crack your glasses in half Kim Jungwoo."

The male cowers in fear as he scurries off to his room, shouting behind his shoulder. "Do you guys wanna see what I'm working on?"

Doyoung jumps up, always eager to divulge in Jungwoo's nerdy projects. "Sure."

"I'm designing a supersonic VTOL fighter jet!" The engineering major says, lugging his laptop towards you all, showing you some prints on his screen. They're blueprints and sketches, and random little notes on the side, but you really can barely tell what you're looking at.

It's not that you were dumb, you were actually a very decent student. But the men in the room with you? Jungwoo was a mechanical engineering major, which said enough. Yuta was pre-med studying to be a doctor, and Doyoung? He's here on a full ride scholarship studying computer science.

So, for lack of better words, you were the dumbest in the room.

Not that you cared anyways, the boys never made you feel less than or anything because of your simple major. You also took pride in it, sure you weren't designing future airplanes or developing software, but it was enough for you.

"Looks cool, but you should widen the wingspan, I see possible blockage through the-" Doyoung starts on with his commentary.

"Yuta! Do you want to help me start cooking?" You ask, the male seemingly uninterested in the plane, and you could relate. He nods and follows you to the kitchen, adjusting his frames.

After checking their fridge for ideas, you start filling a pot with water to boil some pasta in, directing Yuta to start chopping up some garlic. He follows directions well, as one would expect, and does as he's told.

"How did your mid-term go?" Yuta breaks the silence, referring to the grueling test he had helped you with.

"Fine, I got an 80." You reply, measuring out more pasta.

Yuta raises a brow as he places the knife down. "An 80? But we studied all week."

"Yeah but some of the questions were hard, I didn't remember." You say, and you were truly satisfied with your grade. Sure you had studied, but not everyone retained information as easily as your friends, and they were still having trouble learning that you weren't going to get a 100 points every time.

Yes the boys had extreme book smarts, but they lacked a little street smarts sometimes. They were less empathetic and more clear cut, but you knew they meant well. Though it didn't mean their lack of social cues hurt any less though.

Sometimes you wonder how you had even befriended them. Especially Doyoung, who was usually no nonsense and short worded on campus. But it could all be traced back to Jungwoo.

It was back in freshman year, and on your very first day of class. You had rushed in, confused to see that they had already started without you, which was weird seeing as your class wasn't supposed to be in session for another thirty minutes. You had just waved it off as an accident and sat down, right next to Jungwoo.

During a break, he had introduced himself and asked you if you were excited for Math 2414, and inquired about what your major was.

That was when you realized in horror that you were in Calculus, and not Pre-calculus. No wonder they had already begun, it was the wrong class! And you were not trying to take anything beyond what was required for your degree. "So this isn't pre-calculus?"

"No, I took that in high school! You didn't get that out of the way already?" He had asked, and just then did you realize what kind of person you were dealing with.

You had explained the situation to Jungwoo to which he was really understanding, offering to show you your actual classroom for your next class day. You had agreed, and then by some coincidence, you had run into Jungwoo a few days later. Catching up with him and mentioning you were having trouble with a certain concept already, to which he had offered his help.

You had started having sessions regularly, and Jungwoo had invited you to study with his group of friends, which is where you met the others.

Despite them being a little intimidated by you (And vice versa), you had all got along well, and you were thankful for that. Despite not having great social skills, they were actually a lot less complicated to deal with. They spent a majority of their time studying or doing school work, burying their noses in books. And if not? Then they're playing a computer game Doyoung designed, or testing if Jungwoo's rocket model could fly in the middle of a JCPenny parking lot.

They didn't have a lot of drama either, and you were sure they'd be simple enough to live with. Come to think of it, it's always been tidy whenever you've visited. Jungwoo's bed was always made and Doyoung's desk always clean. Yuta's was exceptionally organized too, even donning some expensive looking anime figures in displays on his shelf.

They were such nerds.

You snort to yourself as you pour the sauce onto the plates, food ready to be eaten. Funny enough, you hadn't even had to call the boys. Yuta had helped you but Doyoung and Jungwoo had hounded the kitchen counter and talked your ear off, both excited for a home cooked meal. Apparently, none of them could cook very well and they usually opted for take out, so this was a relief.

"You guys literally had all the ingredients already." You giggled as you sat down on the small table they had in their apartment.

Jungwoo shakes his head. "Doesn't matter if you don't know how to make anything out of them."

"Thank you by the way, this is really good." Doyoung nods, and by the way he scarfed down half of it already, you'd say he's telling the truth.

"Slow down, you'll choke." Yuta says concerned before his expression changes into a different one. "Wait, you should choke! I can finally practice my CPR on a real person!"

"Well if you haven't practiced on a human yet, I don't think I can trust you." Doyoung shoots him a glare.

"You're hindering my first-aid progression." Yuta narrows his eyes as he takes a bite of his food. The air grows quiet as you voice out what had been weighing on your mind.

"So, any plans for tonight?" You ask, wondering what you're going to get up to a Saturday night. You had a long week, especially since you had woken up on Monday to an eviction notice, so you'd say you could use some time out.

"Hm? Probably start looking over my lobotomy notes for my lecture next week." Yuta responds, earning a chorus of acknowledgment from the other males.

"O-okay, Doyoung?" You ask, but you think you can already guess too.

"I'm beta testing this program my friend just finished, probably'll take me all night." He speaks, attention on his food.

You deflate, looking towards Jungwoo. "Nice, and you?"

"Putting my blueprints into a 3D maker and drafting up a scale model of it." He says, and you take note of how he looks excited about it.

This was quite a turn from what you were used to, you had to remind yourself that these weren't your typical college guys. Yet, you could feel your left eye twitching slightly. "Guys! It's a Saturday night."

"Mhm?" Doyoung replies, his eyebrows furrowed, like the day didn't change anything.

You scoff, "So what, no frat parties? No bar hopping?"

You're met with blank looks, the men looking utterly confused as Jungwoo shakes his head, unfamiliar with both scenes. "No?"

You sigh, facing the fact that you're going out solo. You could probably text a few of your other classmates to meet up wherever you went.

"You guys do that, I'm gonna go get laid tonight." You shrug, getting up to put your dish in the sink. "Yuta you can sleep in your bed if you want."

"Wait- Where are you gonna go?" Jungwoo asks, following you to the kitchen with furrowed brows.

You shrug. "I don't know, maybe a club? Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. If I get home before morning then I'll just crash on the couch."

"If?!" Jungwoo's eyes widen at the prospect of you being out all night.

You place a hand on his shoulder. "I have a key, don't wait up."

And he stands there shocked, the other two watching as you head to your room to shower and change your outfit. You had a long night ahead of you.

Even afterwards, when you had stepped out in

You try your best to quietly open the front door, met with only pitch black darkness as you assume everyone was asleep. It was two in the morning, and in their defense, you did tell them not to wait up.

Slipping your heels off, you step quietly towards the couch. You peel your tight dress off and realize you have nothing to change into, and you weren't going to wake Yuta to just grab a shirt. Luckily for you, there was a blanket you could cover yourself with, so you discarded the bra as well, thankful that at least you had worn shorts under your dress tonight. You sigh as you lay down, head still spinning as you come down from earlier.

You had succeeded in your quest of getting laid, thoroughly being manhandled by a guy named Mingyu who went to a neighboring university. The sex was actually pretty decent, but it could've been better. You had wanted someone to bend you into a pretzel and fuck you until your legs were rendered useless for the next week. And he just couldn't provide that. Maybe you'd have to trust in your rainbow dildo from now on.

You brush the thoughts to the back of your mind as you finally find sleep, eyes fluttering shut.

You swear, it felt like you were asleep for all of two seconds when you hear the blaring alarm clock from one of the rooms. Followed by the sound of things being knocked over.

Rubbing your eyes as you sit up, hangover hitting you hard, but your eyes are drawn to frantic looking Yuta running around the apartment out of his room. He moves over a few things on the dining table quickly and you watching confusion.

"Where are they?" He mutters to himself, throwing some things in the kitchen around as well.

Sitting up, you rub your eyes as your vision adjusts. "What're you looking for?"

"Just my- Oh, where is your shirt? Why are you naked?" He rambles, covering his eyes as he turns around.

You hadn't even noticed that the blanket you used to cover yourself all night had slipped down, accidentally revealing at least part of your boobs to Yuta. "I slept like this because I didn't want to barge into your room to grab a shirt, sorry. I'll go do that now!"

You get up and scramble to the room, feeling so shitty at making Yuta uncomfortable. Opening the drawer, you slip on the first shirt that's there. You don't even look at it before you're rushing out and apologizing profusely to Yuta. "It's only my first morning here and I've already flashed you."

"Is that my shirt?" He asks, eyes wide and your look down to confirm that it was, in fact, Yuta's shirt.

"Oh! And I stole your shirt, I'll wash it and put it back! I really am sorry, I'm just so hungover right now." You hang your head in shame as the words slip out.

"No! No, really it's fine." Yuta dismisses as he waves his hands. "I found my keys so I have to go now, see you when I get back!"

And with that, he's out the door, face tinted red.

God, you were a fool! Sighing in defeat, you make your way to your room, slipping off the shirt and trading it out for one that was yours.

What you didn't know was that Yuta was still standing on the other side of the front door, mind reeling as he replays the mental image of your nipples peaking through the fabric of one of his shirts. He didn't think you'd be giving him this much trouble already! It was the first morning!

Back inside, you're gathering clothes to take a shower. Jungwoo opens the door to his room, unexpectedly rushing out as well, saying he had somewhere to be as he's unable to meet your eyes. You had no idea everyone would be so busy this morning. Was it usually like this? You shrug, too tired and ready to be met with steaming hot water as you bid him goodbye.

After your shower, you not surprised to see Doyoung up as well, sitting near the kitchen as he munches on a banana. You can see his computer in front of him displaying some kind of code, and he doesn't look like he got a wink of sleep. Did these boys ever take a break?

"Good morning Doyoung." You yawn, making a bee line for the coffee machine. You grab a K-Cup and try to figure your way around the machine as you fail to notice Doyoung's stare.

"Oh, Morning." Doyoung finally gives a greeting back, thankful that your back is facing him right now with the way the blood was rushing to his face. Now, Doyoung wouldn't say he was a pervert or anything, but he couldn't help the way his eyes were glued to your shorts.

You break him out of his spell when you turn around, coffee mug in hand. You're frowning, "Why's everyone so busy today?"

"It's like that everyday, we rarely see each other in the mornings." Doyoung explains, keeping his composure still as he tries not to let his eyes wander. He's not stupid, he knew it'd be a little difficult to live with someone as hot as you, but he figured he could handle himself.

"Oh that's too bad, I wanted to make everyone breakfast." You speak, turning around to open the cabinets, unaware how Doyoung's eyes shot straight back to your ass. "So, how was your night?"

"I-it was alright, and yours?" He asks while he clears his throat, already semi-aware of your ventures that you had announced.

"Can't say it was any better." And you leave it at that as you sigh. What could you mean by that? Did you not get laid? With an ass like that?

"Oh.. Well, I have a meeting with my professor in twenty so I have to get going soon." He nods, and you just about lose your mind.

"On a Sunday?"

"Computers work on Sunday's too."

God, what was he on about? "Okay Doyoung, see you later then."

Weirdly, you felt the least your friends could do was amuse you. But so far, you were beginning to realize that they're likely this busy all the time, between their schooling and internship jobs, they were packed.

Speaking of jobs, it was time to start looking.

Eight online job applications later and you're about ready to move to the woods and start living like a cave woman off the grid. No money, no bills, and no rent. Sadly, you were too accustomed to running water to let that happen though.

So you decide to drop off an application at a promising job near you, before hitting the inevitable brick wall. You don't have a printer.

Surely one of the boys had to have one, right?

Wrong, it seemed as you looked into Jungwoo's room. It felt weird to just peep in there, but you didn't want to bother him by texting since you knew he was busy. Unfortunately, you were already aware that Yuta didn't have one either.

Which left you with peeping into Doyoung's room. Maybe if you had just, I don't know, used the printer available at your college campus, you wouldn't have discovered such a life altering sight.

Yet, for some reason, that possibility didn't cross your mind as you swung the door open. And you felt like your jaw hit the floor as you stared ahead almost immediately.

Positioned right above Doyoung's bed, was a camera.

And not just any camera, an ultra HD expensive looking one, and that said a lot seeing you knew nothing about cameras. To make matters worse, it was held by a tri-pod. Could it be any more obvious?

You close the door as you stand, feet plastered to the floor in horror. What the hell was Kim Doyoung doing with a classic porn set up in his room? Kim Doyoung?! The nerdy TA who ran from woman that were just trying to ask him class-related questions? The male who grimaced at any sight of public of public affection? The one who rolled his eyes in annoyance when others made dirty jokes?

That Kim Doyoung was making porn?

Yeah right, you could almost laugh at that.

There had to be another reasonable explanation, right? You had known Doyoung for a while now, and he definitely didn't even seem like a man who was too keen on pre-marital sex, there was just no way he was filming it.

You doubt he even watched porn, that's how busy and wound up he seemed. There was no way on this green earth that he was doing that. But that doesn't explain what the camera was doing there.

You had to find a way to connect this to his nerdy computer job or you were going to go crazy.

You got home around five in the afternoon after dropping off the finally printed application, and picking up a few things, like toilet paper and laundry soap, that you had noticed missing around the apartment. Mostly just buying yourself time to get over the weird thoughts you were having now.

You doubt you'd be able to look Doyoung in the eye without crumbling, so you text your friend Mark if you can crash on his couch, he lives closer to campus anyways. He responds almost immediately with a sure dude, and you decide you'll stop by the house to pick up pajamas.

You don't expect anyone to be home as you unlock the door, but of course, everyone was home. All of them gathered in the living room with takeout boxes as Jungwoo spots you. He holds one up, "We didn't know when you'd be home, but we ordered for you."

You smile as you thank him, opening the box to reveal your favorite dish. You hadn't explicitly told them lately, but they had remembered? That makes your heart swell for your friends a bit as you spot Doyoung out of the corner of your eye. Oh, right.

"Actually, I have to go do this thing tonight." You lie. "So I just stopped by to get some clothes."

"Really? Is everything okay?" Yuta inquires as you nod. And it's as if there's no awkwardness from him after the incident this morning either, so you're grateful for that.

"I'm fine, I'll be home tomorrow." You explain.

"Well, could you spare a minute to eat with us?" Jungwoo pouts, and you find yourself nodding before you can stop yourself. You were always a little weak for him.

If Doyoung notices your odd behavior as you sit by him, he doesn't say a word about it. In fact, everyone seems to go about their business. Everyone filling you in on how busy their days were and asking about what you had been up to.

"Oh, I left the bags by the door, but I bought some stuff we needed."

"You're an angel." Jungwoo comments. "I was scared I was going to have to use napkins instead of toilet paper again."

"That's so gross Jungwoo." Yuta reconciles and you all laugh in agreement.

"So, you'll be gone all night then?" Doyoung asks, bringing your attention back to him. Your eyes dart to his hands, right as he twirls the noodles around his chopsticks. Sure you were still wondering a little about the camera situation, but it wasn’t like that right? Though you can’t help but notice how pretty his hands were.

His fingers were long, and you couldn’t help but imagine how they wrapped around his own cock. If he filmed anything, would he jerk off and beg his viewers to let him cum? Or was he more dominant, shoving his thin fingers into a flashlight as he spoke nasty words, or maybe even in another girl. The visual alone is enough to get you hot and bothered. But you shake yourself out of it, this was the dorky comp-sci major you lived with, you should not be thinking about him like that.

"Yeah, I'm working on a project with Mark, figured I'd just spend the night since we have the class together in the morning." You put together, pretty impressed with how well the lie was coming out.

"Mark?" Yuta raises a brow, the name familiar to him. "Like the hockey player?"

You nod, curious. "You know him?"

"Not really, just know he's a jock."

You catch his implication. "Well, he's not like that. Plus, he's my friend so you guys shouldn't worry, not like I'm spending the night with a stranger."

Jungwoo grows uncharacteristically quiet. "Oh."

"So Jungwoo's being fucking weird, Doyoung might have an onlyfans, and Yuta's saw your boobs?" Mark parrots back as you two sit on his living room couch, he's shifting the lollipop in his mouth from one side to the other as he thinks. His brows furrow in concentration as he cooks up a response.

"Exactly."

Haechan, your friends roommate and fellow hockey teammate, laughs loudly as he enters the room. "And it's only your second day living with them?"

"Told you the losers would be a lot to handle." Mark shrugs, and you roll your eyes. These two didn't have the greatest impression of your other three friends, reducing them down to the nerds everyone thought they were.

"I didn't see you offering me a room," You defend. "Plus, they're super easy to live with so I don't have much else to complain about."

"You could always just share a bed with me." Haechan smirks, and you fake gag. "Your room smells like shit."

"Hey!"

"Anyways, I'd rather live with my beloved nerds than with you two sleazes." You state truthfully, scrunching your nose.

"Doyoung might be slinging his dick on camera, yet we're the sleazes?" Mark giggles, and you hit him in the arm.

"I don't think that's the case but, is there any other explanation?" You groan, stealing a chip from a bag hidden on Mark's side. He swats at your hand as you grab another one.

"He could just be into filming." Haechan offers, joining you two as he pops open a soda. And you ponder if Doyoung's ever been seen with a camera before.

You shake your head, doubting it. "He's never mentioned anything like that."

"Well running from him, and the rest of your roommates, is just going to make them think you're ungrateful. It'd be better to just confront them now and get over it." Mark advises, and the other male agrees.

Haechan places his soda down. "Why does it matter anyways? What Doyoung does in his apartment is no one else's business."

"Well-" You stop yourself as you look down. "I don't know."

"What's up?" Mark says at the shift in your attitude.

You hadn't confronted it yet, but the though of the things Doyoung did on his bed with his camera running? You hated that you wanted to see it. You hated that you ran with the implication of him having a scandalous hobby, and that you wanted a front row seat.

"I don't know, even with those wire-frame's and all, I think he's kind of cute." You admit begrudgingly, leaning back into the couch in embarrassment.

"Oh my God," Haechan sits up. "The thought of him doing that has you all hot and bothered! That's what it is, it's not even about him actually doing it, its about you thinking he is."

"And you're just having trouble grappling with your feelings." Mark shrugs as he pops a chip into his mouth, lollipop stick discarded.

You cover your face with your hands. "Stop.."

Mark sighs, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Don't hate the messenger."

"Okay sure, Doyoung's nice to look at but if anything, I'd be more into Jungwoo." You reveal, and it's true. If there's anyone in the house you'd like in that way, it'd be Jungwoo. You two just had a better connection, even if he'd be acting different lately.

"In a weird science-y kind of way?" Haechan tilts his head before groaning. "Why him when you could have the hottest frat boy on campus?"

"There you go again." You glare, knowing instantly that he was referring to Lee Jeno's crush on you. You know full well the two in front of you were rooting for their friend. They also thought you were too attractive to be hidden behind stuffy scholars all day. And sure, Jeno was sweet, and easy on the eyes, but you just weren't into him. "Stop trying to set me up."

"Worth a shot."

"Anyways, I think instead of just hiding here." Mark narrows his eyes. "You should go home and explain everything, that way you don't continue scuttling around out of nervousness."

"And admit that I thought about Doyoung in that way?" You exclaim, face palming. "Mark, that's a terrible plan."

"You don't have to say all that," Mark crosses his arms in retaliation. "Just talk about Jungwoo's behavior and clear the air with Yuta."

You hang your head in defeat. "Can I at least wait until tomorrow?"

"Nope. Now."

You plead as you caught off guard by his insistance. "But Mark-"

"He said now." Haechan repeats, grinning at your misery.

"Oh so now you two agree?" You scoff in disbelief. Those two loved to argue about everything, but of course they could team up against you.

Mark nods, pointing to the door. "Go before it's past their bedtime."

"Don't be ridiculous Mark." Haechan feigns seriousness before he chuckles. "They have to tuck each other in first."

"You two are so annoying." You mutter as you pack up your bag. Shooting the two endless glares as you slip your shoes on.

Thirty minutes later and you're at the front door of what is now considered your home. Even when it was just your friends, you had never felt this nervous entering it before. You take a deep breath in as you stick the key in the lock, ready for confrontation.

You're met with chatter in the living room, relieved that they were still up, at least you wouldn't be waking them. You close the door behind you quietly as you take your shoes off and make your way to the living room.

You take a deep breath as you round the corner. "Hey, I'm back-"

You freeze in your place at the sight before you. It seriously seemed liked your friends had been abducted by aliens. There was no way the image before you was real. Your eyes widen as your jaw slacks, "What. The. Fuck."

Your met with three pairs of eyes staring back at you, Yuta standing up from the couch first. "I-I thought you were going to be gone all night."

You stay still from shock, brain trying to come up for any reasonable explanation as to why your friends looked liked male strippers right now. "You...You're Yuta?!"

Yuta looks taken aback. "Just with a little makeup."

Just a little? Yuta looked completely transformed, his hair gelled back nicely instead of awkwardly parted down the middle. The black glasses and collard shirts traded out for thick rings and painted nails. He looked like a rock star, and was that a tattoo?

"We can explain." Doyoung awkwardly looks down. Your knocked out by the sigh of him as well. Gone is his usual stern put-together look, instead he's donning smoky eye shadow with layered gold necklaces as his dark hair messily frames his face. He's wearing a sleeveless shirt, and that catches you heavily off guard as he usually only wears loose fitting clothes. He had been hiding those toned arms the entire time?

You take a step back. "How do you plan on explaining why it looks like I just stepped onto the set of Magic Mike?"

Your eyes finally meet the quiet boy who had been on your mind recently, Jungwoo. And to say he looked stunning would be an understatement. He was wearing a cropped shirt that showcased his toned abs as he stood up, the red color of it contrasting to his skin perfectly. His eyes looked striking, and he's wearing dark makeup as well.

You'd hate to admit it, but the sight of the men had you suddenly rubbing your thighs together and trying to stop your head from spinning. What the hell was going on right now? What alternate timeline has you just entered?

"Why don't you sit?" Doyoung suggests, avoiding eye contact.

"Umm, alright." You comply, hesitating. When you look back up with expectant eyes, they start to get nervous.

Yuta sits as well, and you're trying not to drool. "Don't freak out."

You side eye him, this was an unusual reaction. "Right.."

"I'll just come out and say it," He pauses. "We're camboys."

He watches your face for a reaction but you provide none, instead choosing to have an explosion in your mind as you keep your composure outwardly. You turn to face him, calmly. "Oh."

Doyoung repeats. "Oh?"

"I don't know how I'm meant to react to this." You struggle truthfully. One, you were grappling with the explanation that you were right in your assumptions. Two, you were trying your best not to just gawk at them. "Plus, it's none of my business, I just came home to apologize."

Jungwoo furrows his brows. "To us?"

"I kind of already saw the tri-pod facing Doyoung's bed and jumped to conclusions. That's why I was acting distant, and I also flashed Yuta this morning-"

"You what?" Doyoung perks up.

"It wasn't on purpose." You wave your hands around before lowering your voice. "And I wanted to know why Jungwoo's been acting weird lately, and if I did anything wrong."

Jungwoo looks taken aback. "What? No, you didn't do anything wrong."

"Are you sure? You've been acting off since I've moved in." You respond, trying not to ogle your friends abs. It was proving to be harder than you thought as you forced yourself to look him in the eye.

Yuta and Doyoung exchange a knowing glance that you miss as Jungwoo stutters for an explanation. "I'm sorry, I've just been stressed."

And you just nod, the tense atmosphere in the room suffocating you. "Maybe I should go."

"Are you bothered?" Yuta asks, stopping you. The rest of the boys look genuinely worried, and you feel terrible. Your silence must've come off wrong.

"What? No, this is your house! You can all do whatever you want." You admit genuinely.

Doyoung shakes his head. "We could've at least let you know before hand-"

"No, really, it's fine." You reassure him as you make eye contact with the two other boys. "Also, your secrets safe with me, I won't say anything."

"We know you won't." Yuta nods. "We trust you, and we're sorry we didn't say anything sooner, we just didn't want things to change."

"Nothing has changed, alright?" You smile. "Everything's normal."

Everything was far from normal as the days progressed. Sure, the boys seemed a little more loose around you, knowing they didn't have to hide their nighttime activities from you anymore.

But you, on the other hand? Let's just say you were having a hard time not opening a incognito tab on your computer to search for your friends content. Though you knew their accounts wouldn't be easily traceable, likely not having their real name attached to it at all.

It still didn't stop you from wanting to look though.

"If you zone out one more time, I'm kicking you out of my apartment." Haechan voices in annoyance, noticing your lack of attention on some crazy story he was telling you today.

"Yeah, what has you so spacey?" Mark asks, returning to Haechan's bedroom with a water bottle in his hand.

They were unaware of the events, as you had kept your mouth shut, as promised. But it was beginning to grow harder to keep everything to yourself, especially with the way you'd been feeling lately. So with Mark's curious eyes on yours, the words spill out like a waterfall. You recalling everything that had happened to your closest friends, including how badly you wanted to know what the others were up to behind the camera.

Haechan looks gobsmacked, mouth agape as he takes in your words. "..Jungwoo has abs?"

"Is that all you got from that?" You voice frustratedly, they were insufferable.

"I'm never seen him in the gym a day in my life!"

"You don't go to the gym Haechan!"

"All three of them?" Mark repeats, in utter shock as well.

You nod back. "I don't know if they film together or what but-"

"You wanna see it." Haechan finishes for you. "You pervert!"

"I'm not a pervert!"

"You're a pervert. Pervert, pervert, pervert!" Haechan continues in a sing-song voice as you feel your eye twitch. You don't know why you told these two, not like they could offer any useful insight.

Before you can retaliate, Mark's shushing his friend. "I know how to fix this."

You listen because, really? How could Mark possibly know how to solve the inner turmoil brewing inside of you? What could make it all go away?

You admit. "I'm all ears."

"You need to get laid." He states, and your brows fuzz.

"Uh..." You trail, trying to figure out the nicest way to shoot him down.

"Not by us!" He responds, almost reading your mind, then turning around and pretending to puke in Haechans mini trash can. How mature. He comes back to his senses as he stands up again. "Come to a party with us and get fucked. It'll take your mind off of them, and anyways, I think this is just caused by sexual frustration."

Haechan pipes in. "He's right, you're just suffering from lack of dick."

"I slept with this dude named Mingyu like a week ago-"

Haechan stops you. "Shhh, Mark is always right! Right Mark?"

"Right!" And it's so strange how the two have been suddenly agreeing lately.

So you, almost unwillingly, find yourself attending a party with them that very night. Dressed in your tightest fitting dress and your nicest pair of lingerie. After about thirty more minutes of talking to you, they had you convinced your reeling horny thoughts were coming from sexual deprivation. You're sure they had brainwashed you, because seriously, you just had sex! This plan was dumb, but what else did you expect?

Though now, you're feeling stupid as your two friends subtly nudge Lee Jeno in your direction. God, you should've known those two were up to something.

You sip from your red solo cup as Jeno continues to shyly sell himself to you. He's telling you about his volunteer hours, his stellar sports stats, and his love for animals. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he's interviewing for a job, and not just attempting to grab a hookup.

Your heart somewhat aches for the boy, he definitely was trying to make you his girlfriend sooner or later, and it was almost sweet. But even if you weren't currently enthralled by the idea of your roommates, you still wouldn't have seen yourself giving Jeno a chance. He wasn't really your type anyways.

Jeno excuses himself to pour another drink as you shoot glares at your two friends from across the room. Not that Haechan sees it though, he's too busy trying to feel up some poor girl who fell for his pick up lines. Mark looks intimidated though!

You pull out your phone in an attempt to discourage any others from approaching you, and are met with a notification from Jungwoo. You open the message accompanied by his cute little contact photo and try not to smile.

It reads, Hey! Doyoung attempted dinner, you should come join us.

Granted, the boys had no idea where you were or that you were being forced into yet another mission, but you just stick your phone back in your purse and scan the room again.

While Lee Jeno may not have been your type, looking for something far too serious to even let you consider sleeping with him, Liu Yangyang seemed to be just what you were searching for. With your luck, he'd throw you off to the side the next morning. You're relieved by the fact that's he's not known to be one for committing.

You're about to approach him when Mark meets your eyes, sending you a silent don't, basically reading your mind. God, why did they have to play wingman? And curse Mark for reading your mind! So you stay rooted in your place as Jeno returns, handing you a drink that you won't even be drinking from.

Doyoung's dinner would probably be more entertaining that this right now. "Hey, sorry. I think I'm actually gonna head home, I'm pretty tired." You let out, interrupting whatever Jeno was saying.

There's a flash of disappointment in his eyes before he smiles. "I can drive you home."

Your eyes dart to the beer in his hand, passing him a fake smile. "I'll manage, but thank you for offering!"

You ignore the silent pleas and texts from your friends as you exit and get into your car, thankful that you hadn't taken a sip of anything at that party.

A few minutes later and you're back home, deciding to ring the door bell so you're not faced with another situation.

Yuta opens it, smiling as he welcomes you home. You grin back as you slip off your shoes, starving for whatever you could find. "Is dinner ready?"

But your question is answered as you walk into the kitchen to see instant ramen packets scattered across the counter top as Jungwoo holds a bowl, and Doyoung frantically scrubbing at a burnt pan.

Doyoung pushes up his glasses with his shoulder as he's still elbow deep in the sink. "Dinner didn't exactly go as planned."

You giggle. "I see that."

"Want some ramen?" Jungwoo perks up, gesturing his chopsticks towards you when you nod.

"Promise you'll cook for us tomorrow?" Yuta asks, watching as the charred food doesn't let up from the pan. You make a face as well as you shake your head.

"Promise," You say, swallowing your noodles as you sit next to Jungwoo. "Sorry I was out, Haechan and Mark are trying to set me up."

Doyoung somewhat stiffens at the names. "Yeah? Take it that didn't go well?"

You sigh. "Well, he's an athlete and he's nice enough,"

"But?" Jungwoo finishes, knowing you weren't done. Well, he was downright hoping something was wrong with this mystery athlete, truth be told.

Good thing he was right. "But, I don't think I'm into him."

"Why not?"

"No particular reason," You lie, managing to avoid eye contact with the men that were your roadblocks to anyone else right now. How were you supposed to manage a decent lay while thinking about the three hottest guys you've ever seen at home?

Even now, without their makeup and sultry clothing, you think they look attractive as ever. God, you had it bad. With those stupid collard shirts and wire frames, you think they've never looked better.

"I think I'm going to lay off the parties for a few days anyway, midterms are in a week." You continue, knowing the men in front of you had been preparing for them these past couple of weeks already.

"Right," Doyoung nods, sleeves still rolled up as he dries his hands. "Wanted to warn you by the way, we're going to be filming on Tuesday."

"Got it, I'll study at Mark's." You pass, already planning in your head how to get Haechan's loud mouth out of the room long enough to get work done.

Jungwoo looks bothered though. "Or you could stay?"

You look up from your bowl. "Hm?"

"I've been thinking," Jungwoo starts. "This is your place too, you should be able to go about your business while we film. It's not like I haven't done homework while Yuta recorded a fleshlight clip in the next room."

His boldness paired with his vulgar language — which you were definitely not used to — catches you off guard.

"I wouldn't want to bother-"

"No, he's right." Doyoung stops you. "We can't send you off everytime we have something to do, unless it makes you uncomfortable?"

You pause, you shouldn't even be considering this! Not just because of your lack of self control, but also, wouldn't this be dangerously pushing boundaries? "Oh but Yuta doesn't even have his own room right now-"

"Look, if Yuta ever needs to push something out, he can use my room. Or you could just come chill in mine while we wait." Jungwoo offers.

But goodness, being in the same vicinity as any of them when they're doing such sinful things? How were you supposed to hold back? You'd be expected to talk to Jungwoo while Yuta moaned up a storm in the other room?

"Oh, I don't know." You answer, wanting to drop the topic for now. It wasn't getting any easier to talk about it anyways.

"Why do you seem so nervous about it?" Yuta leans in, eyes meeting yours.

You subconsciously lean back, he was definitely onto you. Too bad it was a little hard to fake that you didn't fight the subconscious urge every past night to google their names. "Oh, uh-"

"We'll drop it," Jungwoo shoots a glare at Yuta. "Sorry."

"It's fine!" You smile, pretending to be preoccupied with your ramen. Though your mind is on anything but those stupid noodles right now.

“No we won’t.” Yuta smirks, ignoring Jungwoo entirely. “What has you so worked up, rubbing your thighs together below the table?”

You’re caught off guard at his openness. “W-what?”

“I bet it’s not that athlete, is it?” Yuta leans, tone seductive, and something you had never heard before. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't want him to bend you over the table in front of you.

You avert your eyes, wondering why everyone else had gotten quiet all of a sudden. You couldn't confront this right now, no you wouldn't! "I'll be in my room."

And with that you make a quick way for your temporary bedroom. Ignoring Jungwoo's call for your name as you close the door behind you. What the hell were you going to do now?

Yuta knows he messed up, bad. Things had been tense in the house for the past few days, and you were more skittish than he had ever seen you. He wondered if you were spending time at Mark's place again.

That was Jungwoo's biggest nightmare, in all honesty. He wasn't sure what the nature of you and Mark's friendship was — and he didn't even want to think about it. You were gorgeous, you could have anyone you wanted! He had no doubt that your friends would fuck you if given the chance, if they hadn't already. He knows it doesn't matter who you're sleeping with, but it does make him feel jealous.

Doyoung remains indifferent, at least on the outside. He goes about his day as Yuta and Jungwoo lose their minds over how to return to their normal selves again. It affects him as well though. You were really close to all of them at one point, how had that changed in less than a week?

Doyoung just knows he wish things had went differently.

The sound of the front door opening alerts everyone in the house. Jungwoo's quick to jump up, greeting you at the front door. You smile back as you remove your shoes. You try to keep your composure as you ignore the men in front of you being dressed up. Ah, you forgot it was a filming day. "Today was so stressful."

"Really? Do you maybe wanna watch something in my room with me?" Jungwoo suggests, hoping he can attempt to ease things. "It'll help you relax."

You shrug, though you don't if you could handle the close proximity. It's already taking everything in you right now not to jump his bones in this hallway. "Why not?"

He mentally celebrates in his head, "I'll grab some chips and meet you in my room."

You nod, walking to your temporary room to change. Today really had taken a toll on you, and on top of it, you forgot you were coming home to your roommates alter-egos. Not that you were complaining, because you definitely weren't, but it had slipped your mind. At least Jungwoo wasn't being awkward anymore. Things were going back to normal, right?

You change into shorts and a simple t-shirt and make your way across the hall. You push open the door and see Jungwoo settled already on his bed, the tv already on. You and him to have movie nights in his bed during sleepovers, so this wasn't unusual. Finally, something was normal again. Even if now you were sexually attracted to him. Geez, could you get your head out of the gutter?!

You two watch the movie for a few minutes as Jungwoo starts to shift in his spot. You begin to grow concerned. "Everything okay?"

Jungwoo brushes you off. "I'm fine."

You furrow your brows. "Alright.."

It only takes a few seconds for him to break as he shoots up. He couldn't ignore it's presence, especially not with you in the room. The insinuation of the little red light on in the corner, as the two of you sat on his bed? It was taking his mind to places it shouldn't go. "I left my camera on my desk, its facing this way. Let me just put it up."

And with that he scrambles to his desk, shutting off the camera and tossing it in one of his desk drawers. He's frantic, and his mind is racing with how little you must think of him right now. "Sorry."

You shake your head. "Stop apologizing, it's fine."

Jungwoo covers his face with his hands as he leans against his desk. He breaks, "I can't keep pretending this isn't weird."

You had no idea he was losing his composure as well, you had thought you had been the only one blowing it out of proportion. But you didn't want him to feel ashamed. So you assure him, "I don't mind."

He moves his hands. "You don't feel weird?"

"Can I be honest, Jungwoo?" You ask, it was now or never. One more second of this back-and-forth and you were going to explode.

He meets your eyes. "Please?"

“It turns me on.” You blurt out, admitting the truth. And you can't believe it had came out so easily.

Jungwoo’s shocked as he fumbles over what to say next. “What?”

It was too late to go back now, you had to say it. “I think it’s hot, Jungwoo, I think you’re hot.”

Were his ears deceiving him? He prayed you weren't messing with him. “Really?”

You giggle as you stand to your feet and he starts to feel stupid. “Mhm."

You continue to walk up to him as you place your hands on the desk behind him, effectively caging him between you. You had no idea where this boldness came from, but its likely he was drawing it out from you.

And he can't believe his circumstances. The girl he's been utterly in love with is leaning over him, in those tiny little shorts, telling him that he was the hot one? “So if I kissed you right now, you would-”

You stop him mid-sentence as you bring your lips to his. It's reliving almost, the way your mouths slide together in synch. You had waited far to long for this to let him think he would take the lead. You wanted it far too badly.

He kisses you back, head dizzy with how much he wants you. Though he's laced with a feeling of uncertainty that he just can't shake off because what was this? Was this just a hook-up, oh he was getting ahead of himself. This was a kiss, who knew if you even wanted to sleep with him!?

He debates telling you right there, not letting another second go by where you don't know about his feelings. But he's scared, terrified even, of your reaction. So he savors the kiss, putting his hands around your waist to grab your hips and pull you closer together, if that was even possible.

You can feel your heart rate increasing as you lose your breath. You pull away slightly for breath as you and Jungwoo meet eyes. He's showing no signs of stopping though. Pulling you back in to meet his lips as gentle as possible, before kissing you with the hunger of a starved man.

He's devouring you, and he's not sure if he intends to stop there. He doesn't want to stop there, but he's completely blank on what you want. He separates, "We should stop."

You're hazy, drunk on the kiss as you eyes don't leave his lips. "Don't wanna,"

He stops you before you can go in again, squeezing your hips. He couldn't get enough of you, his body was craving you. "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."

You smirk, hunger in your voice. "Then don't."

He groans, you had no idea what you were doing to him. How long he had dreamed of this moment. "I need to know what you want."

The statement has a double meaning, almost daring you to spill out about feelings that he's not even sure you had. Was he ultimately just hurting himself? Likely.

Though you only catch one meaning, "I want you inside me."

And he'd be stupid to deny you that. He tries to formulate a response but you don't give him a chance. You lean closer, brushing your sex on his semi-hard on, "Need you inside me."

"Fuck," He rasped, as he moves his knee between your thigh. You moan out in ecstasy, feeling slightly embarrassed. He had barely even touched you and you're bitching like a dog in heat.

You lick your lips. "Jungwoo, I-"

The door swings open as Yuta and Doyoung peek in. Yuta shakes his head as he crosses his arms, Doyoung standing in complete surprise. The two of them stare as if they caught you doing something illegal.

"Well, what do we have here?" Yuta speaks as he takes in the scene before him. You and Jungwoo hadn't even bothered to separate, too caught off guard to even have time to think about hiding what you were doing.

You swallow hard. "We were just-"

"Just grinding on each other like horny teenagers?" Yuta finishes, smirking as he knows he couldn't have walked in at a better moment.

"Yeah, thanks for the invite Jungwoo." Doyoung comments sarcastically, and you're left confused.

Jungwoo immediately catches on. "No that's not what we were-"

Yuta doesn't buy it. "No use in lying about it."

"I'm sorry, what?" You ask, unmoving.

"Yuta thinks we're filming." Jungwoo elaborates, sighing.

"You're not?" Yuta asks, and Doyoung looks intrigued.

You shake your head, "We were just kissing anyways."

"Jungwoo's boner says otherwise." Doyoung snorts.

Yuta crosses his arms, "Were you really gonna fuck her without us?"

The words hit you, without us? Who was us? Yuta and Doyoung?

You stutter, flabberghasted. "Y-you guy's would've wanted to watch?!"

Yuta shrugs. "I'll be honest, that's more of Doyoung's thing. He likes to watch, he's into those cuck things. I, on the other hand, would've wanted to join."

Yet again, you're phased by the casual talk of this all. A few weeks ago you never would've thought your friends were so, nasty. The guys who avidly avoided woman, the guys who go all shy when you got too close, the guys who would rather be studying than anything else. You don't think you'll ever get used to how they talk now.

Blinking, you speak. "You want to fuck me?"

Yuta brushes hair out of his face. "Are you serious?"

"W-what? Why are you acting like it's a stupid question, you guys have never shown attraction to me." You state, moving off of Jungwoo, and he winces as the loss of contact.

Doyoung groans. "I don't think we could've been anymore obvious without downright saying it."

Was that true? Had you missed all the signs? "I had no idea."

Yuta scoffs, quirking his head to the side condescendedly. "Look at her face, she's telling the truth, she really had no idea what she was putting us through. And here I thought you were being a tease on purpose."

"A tease?"

"Oh come on, flashing me. Walking around the house in tiny shorts and no bra under your t-shirts." He names and you see how that could look.

You mutter. "Flashing you was an accident."

"Well it's no accident how bad I want to fuck you." Yuta replies boldly, walking closer. "So are you in?"

Doyoung pipes up. "If you don't want to, you can walk out now. I promise, thing's wont be weird, we'll be fine."

You think over Doyoungs words for a minute, before looking back at Jungwoo. "I-"

You turn back to the other two. "I want to."

Yuta smiles, and Doyoung speaks again. "Are you sure?"

Jungwoo grabs your hand in his. "We're not trying to pressure you-"

"Jungwoo, I've wanted this for longer than you'd think." You admit, pressure off of your shoulders.

Yuta breaks the moment, pure lust in his eyes. "Get on the bed."

You do as told, laying down on the bed in excitement at the thought of what the three men are going to do to you. You had no idea what to expect.

Jungwoo settles on one side of you, rubbing you through your bottoms. “Thought you were too good for me, honestly. I’m little loser Jungwoo, and here you are, a sopping wet mess under me.”

“Told Jungwoo I wanted to fuck you the day we met.” Yuta reveals, seated on the opposite side. Yet, you're too caught up on his words.

“Really?”

“Yeah, baby. Told him we should get you in a little video too, what would you have said then?” He responds, and you flutter at the nickname.

“I had already thought of the title.” Jungwoo smirks. “Slutty college girl gets her tiny hole stretched by nerdy math tutors.”

“I’d pay to see that.” Doyoung comments, eyes locked on you.

“Of course you would.” Yuta teases, gaze full of pure lust.

You feel fuzzy already. “I-I would’ve said yes!”

“Are you sure?” Jungwoo asks condescendingly. Just because he wanted this as bad as you didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun. “I was just the nerd, remember? The nerd who watched you leave to get fucked by another guy while I was right here.”

You moan out at his vulgar words going straight to your core.

Doyoung takes a seat in the chair by Jungwoo's desk, seemingly content with watching. “We were all right here.”

Yuta grins, hands pulling at your shirt. “I would’ve pounded you into my mattress the minute you asked.”

You whine, the feverish desire taking over. “Wa-want that so bad.”

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow?”

You nod, overtaken with sheer desire.

Jungwoo suddenly leans down to capture your mouth in his, distracting how Yuta takes over and tugs your bottoms completely off. You shakily grab run your hands through his hair and he shivers when you touch him and gets slightly more aggressive with the kiss. He wants to be as close to you as he can, even if just for now.

You feel the air hit your bare cunt as you moan into Jungwoo's mouth. He smirks a little as Yuta shakes his head. "So wet just from a little kissing, who knew our friend was such a slut for us?"

You buck your hips off the bed, to which Yuta forcefully pushes your thighs back down. You're barely able to let out a yelp of surprise as the other male continues to meld his mouth with yours.

He’s clearly trying to keep the kiss going for as long as he can, he seems to be enjoying himself way too much. But you can't say you're complaining.

Jungwoo pulls off, moving his plush lips down to your neck as Yuta teasingly runs his fingers numbingly slow through your slit. "P-please stop teasing- umph!"

You're cut off as Yuta pushes a finger into you, quickly followed by another. He's agonizingly slow once again and you can barely handle yourself, "'S too much- too-"

"Oh so you want to give orders but when I follow through, now you're taking it back?" He moves his fingers inside you. "If you can't take my fingers, how are you supposed to take my cock?"

You moan at the thought of it, not knowing what he looked like under the belt should be considered pure torture, every other part of him was so alluring.

Jungwoo brings your attention back to him as he pulls your shirt up just enough to unclasp your bra, sliding both off with ease as you were too distracted to do it yourself.

"Your nipples are already so hard." He teases, though he goes to pinch one and that has you writhing. "Oh, they're even prettier than I imagined."

He continues to fondle one before putting his mouth on the other, sucking as Yuta continue to piston his fingers in and out of you, going faster by the minute.

You felt so good already, so overwhelmed that you weren't sure it could get any better, but oh were you so wrong.

You feel the familiar coil beginning to form in your stomach, unable to hold in your whines. "Don't stop, please,"

He doesn't, in fact he goes even faster. The pace matched with Jungwoo's mouth still on your boob makes you go dizzy fast.

Before you know it, you're feeling the coil snap and your release dripping out. But you were a fool if you thought they were going to stop.

Yuta continues to finger you damn near to heaven, Jungwoo's tongue jutting out to graze your nipple as he talks you through your climax.

But you're already halfway gone, "Want- want you inside,"

Yuta pulls his fingers out of you, and you clench around nothing as you whine at the sudden emptiness. Yuta doesn't seem too intent on giving it to you so easily though, "You want me inside?.. And what if I don't think you deserve it? What if I make you beg for it?"

You can feel tears well up in your eyes. "Please, please I'll beg. Please Yuta, I can't go another minute without your dick in me!"

Yuta smirks, satisfied with your response. He stands from the bed and pulls his shirt off, following by unzipping his pants. You watch intently as he does so, finally able to see his abs and that tattoo in all of its glory. You could feel yourself throbbing at the view.

"Condom," You whisper, almost like an afterthought, looking at Jungwoo. "Do you have any in here?"

Jungwoo nods, gesturing to Doyoung who sits by the nightstand. "Top right drawer."

Doyoung follows, throwing a package towards Yuta as he catches it before ripping it open with his teeth. Fuckkk that was so hot.

He wastes no time in sliding it over his length, positioning it outside your entrance. You hope he's about to enter but instead, like the tease he is, rubs your clit with his tip gently. Your body already trembling and he wasn't even inside yet.

"Beg," He commands as he continues his previous actions.

"Please! Oh please Yuta-" You chant his name like a mantra as he smiles down at you.

"Don't worry, I'll give you want you want." He speaks, pushing the plush head of his dick past your walls. "Not gonna stop till you're sore."

He continues to push himself farther in as Jungwoo rubs his thumb over your clit, how were they so in synch? Had they done this before?

Yuta finally bottoms out inside you, hissing as you clench around him. "Pussy so fucking tight for such a whore."

You groan as he starts to move, thrusting into you as you babble. Jungwoo's eyes land straight on where your tits bounce, obsessed with the view. God, he was gonna bust in his pants.

You can hear the slight tap of the headboard creaking as it hits the wall behind you, Yuta reaching up to grip it as leverage while he slams into you, and you're trying your hardest not to drool on Jungwoo's pillow.

The younger male smirks before he pulls you into a kiss, silencing your moans for the minute as his tongue explores your mouth.

You whine into Jungwoo's mouth as he continues to sloppily kiss you. Yuta never falters as he watches from behind, he never knew he could enjoy watching you so much. He's borderline obsessed with seeing you two make out while he's inside, he can't get enough.

Doyoung can't see as well from where he sits, but the sounds make up for it. The room filled with the sounds of your muffled moans and skin meeting skin, accompanied by Yuta's heavy groans and pants.

He's doing everything he can to not take his dick out and start palming it, convincing himself to just wait for his turn.

Yuta moved in and out of you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body. You cried out as the pleasure became almost too much to bear, body quivering beneath him.

He doesn't let up though, too keen on seeing your pretty face all scrunched up. You were shaking as his movements started to go deeper and deeper into you, there was no way you were going to survive this.

"You feel that baby?" He groans. "Feel how hard you make me?"

You just nod, too focused on the task at hand.

He keeps going, "Look how hard Jungwoo is, he's leaking all over his bed."

You'd love to see, but you can't bring your eyes steady enough to look towards him. Jungwoo lets out a quiet whine at Yuta's words, clearly embarrassed.

"Don't get all shy Jungwoo." Doyoung interjects. "It's cute seeing you so worked up."

You moaned, despite the words not being directed towards you. Doyoung voice mixed with Yuta hitting your g spot brought you directly to another realm of heaven.

Yuta felt his body tremble as his release began to build, his mind spinning as his pleasure reached its peak. He couldn't believe he was really getting to have you like this, in all his wildest dreams come true. His fingers dug into your hips, anchoring him to you as the orgasm started to take over.

You separated from Jungwoo as you started to feel the falter in the others thrusts while feeling a similar build up, managing to sputter out a "Are you close?"

He nods, "Are -shit- you?"

You can barely respond before Jungwoo's bringing your lips back to his. He never wanted to stop kissing you, he couldn't.

You suddenly felt your orgasm rush through her body, your entire body trembling with pleasure. You clung to Jungwoo, fingers digging into his arms as the intensity of the moment hit you.

You gasped as you came, body shaking with the intensity of it, breathing heavily as the pleasure slowly ebbed away.

With a deep growl, Yuta followed as he gave one final thrust and released into the latex. Mind incredibly hazy as he collapsed beside you onto the bed. Breathing heavy as you will your eyes not to close.

He stares at your fucked out face, proud of the little number he did on you. He knows this was likely his first and last chance to see you like this, so he was going to relish in it.

Though, others didn't seem to agree with the slower paced approach, Doyoung moving the other male out of the way to climb onto the bed.

Surprisingly, you try to push yourself up. Though, you're still too unsure to ask for what you want. "Can I..."

"Can you what?" Doyoung mocks after you don't respond for a few seconds. "Closed mouths don't get fed."

Who knew he could be so mean?

"Can I ride you?" You blurt out.

He smirks. "Is that what you want?"

You nod, "Fuck, please Doyoung."

He laughs, leaning back on the head board as he slips his pants down. "Be my guest, if you think you can still hold yourself up."

You place your hands on his shoulders as you wobbly throw your legs over Doyoungs lap before pausing, "W-wait,"

The others immediately halt, awaiting your words.

"Jungwoo's still so hard, and he hasn't touched himself. I should help him." You let out, starting at the male who you started this all with.

"Yuta's got it." Doyoung speaks, while the other male composes himself. "Right?"

The oldest smirks, wordlessly reaching over as Jungwoo's face grows red. He wraps his hand around the base of the youngers shaft and starts moving, kitty licking the tip as Jungwoo moans out.

"D-don't stop, I want to see you and Doyoung." Jungwoo gasps, locking eyes with you before squirming at Yuta's actions. It's not like it was the first time they had done this, but it felt so different every time, especially now that he was taking him wholly in his mouth.

You grow wetter at the sight of your roommates getting each other off, now you see why they like to watch so badly. Yuta looked so pretty with his mouth full of cock while Jungwoo moaned like a bitch in heat and clawed at his bed sheets. Not to mention that Yuta had grown hard again, his own hand snaking down to touch himself.

Doyoung lines himself up, his tip pushing past your walls as you slowly sink down. The stretch burning slightly even though you had been fucked already. You couldn't help but hiss, he was just too big.

You bounce a few times as Doyoung digs his nails into your hips. He's more quiet than Yuta, but less composed. You weren't sure he'd have much to say if he could manage to talk. The most you catch from him are quiet groans and deep breaths.

His eyes don't leave your cunt, directed towards where your bodies meet. He's never felt anything so good, not even his state of the art toys his viewers brought him made him feel this way.

“Need it off.” You mutter, reaching below you towards Doyoung’s cock. He hisses as you pry at the tip, harshly pulling the rubber condom off. You throw the item across the room, bringing your hand back to sink down on him as the other boys watch in awe.

Jungwoo's quick to intervene, “But-”

“We’ll get her a Plan B.” Yuta reassures him as he comes up for air, and you take notice of the way Jungwoo’s face falls for some reason.

You continue bouncing as Doyoung grabs one of your boobs in his hands. You bite your lip at the feeling, mind already halfway to mush as you continue to spear yourself on his cock. “Feels so good.”

He growls as he meets your hips at an animalistic pace. He finally gains the reserve to speak. Teeth gritting, “You feel better than I imagined, slutty pussy dragging me in.”

Jungwoo pushes Yuta's head down farther as the other teases, while the other gags at the action. The sounds of slurping register in your ears as you look back that way. You almost cum at the sight.

Jungwoo's face twists as he releases into Yuta's mouth, the latter swallowing it without a qualm. Jungwoo can feel himself growing hard again though. The squelch of your body parts melding together has Jungwoo's head spinning even though he already came.

Yuta snarks as he gets onto his knees, pushing his dick into the youngers face. "Your turn, put those pretty lips to use."

Jungwoo's eyes never leave your body as he opens his mouth. Now, if you thought Yuta looked good like that, nothing compared to how Jungwoo looked. So pliant and content to be helping his friend out.

Doyoung brings your attention back to him as he grabs your jaw, "I'm giving it to you so good that you're shaking yet you're staring at them instead?"

You shake your head, grinding down harder on Doyoung's dick as you stop bouncing, knees growing sore. "I'm sorry-"

He scoffs, grip tightening on your jaw. "No you're not."

"I-" You huff, hearing Jungwoo's pretty noises echo in your head as you fight every bone in your body to turn and look.

"Shut up," He cuts you off. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."

You nod as he thrusts up into you. You whine as he holds you in place, using you like a flesh light of his own design. All you can do is take it, feeling his tip kiss your insides with every thrust. Felt like he was rearranging your guts.

He pounds into you with such vigor that you wonder how he has the strength for it all. You try your best to meet his thrusts but he hardly gives you time to.

You would've never guessed the unbothered Kim Doyoung would be into fucking this rough. The more you know, you guessed.

You shout out, "I'm cumming!"

His speed doesn't falter, and he continues fucking you through your second orgasm of the night. He continues as you whimper at your sensitivity, hoping he was close.

"P-pull out," You sputter out, suddenly reminded that you two were going at it raw.

"I will," He responds, before he's moaning out. "Fuck, lift up."

"O-okay." You say, pulling yourself up slightly as his cock springs back onto his abs, covering his stomach in his release.

"That was so hot." You admit, sitting on the bed.

He blinks, "Yeah?"

You barely manage to turn as Yuta shoots his load out onto Jungwoo's face. His face looking ethereal as licks some of it off of his lips.

Yuta's about to say something when Doyoung speaks, "Yuta, lets go take a bath."

Yuta looks confused, not catching the others hint. "Now?"

Doyoung rolls his eyes, "So we can clean up."

"You're hard again, aren't you?"

The other shoots him a glare, clenching his teeth. "Let's go."

He basically drags the other out of the room as you two watch in confusion. Yuta bids, "See you later."

You stay quiet, unable to move without your body aching. Though you feel sudden energy to keep going as you look beside you.

Jungwoo leans over you and brushes your hair out of your face, and it feels more apparent that its just the two of you in the room. “You okay?”

“I’m a little sore, but I’m fine.” You admit, wincing a bit as you move your legs in an attempt to sit up. Jungwoo shakes his head as he stops you though.

“If you're not feeling okay-" He starts but you quickly shut him down,

You tilt your head. "But I've waited so long for you."

However, you can barely focus on his words as you take in his disheveled appearance. God, you wanted to kiss him so badly. Again.

He grabs your chin gently, lifting it up to kiss you more, and you can almost taste Yuta on him. He takes his time as you feel the urge to press up against him, ignoring the pain in your legs that the others left in their wake.

“Baby, don’t tease me there.” He whines, stopping the kiss.

Yet you don’t cease your actions, wanting to hear more of his needy voice. “I want you so bad, Jungwoo.”

His eyes meet yours, hesitance behind them. “Really, are you sure?”

“Unless you don’t to-”

“No no, I want to.” He responds, meeting your lips again. He’s more sure of himself this time, hand snaking to touch your cunt.

You're one hundred percent sure you were in love with Jungwoo. But who was counting?

Before you knew what was happening, he was throbbing inside you. Your cunt spent from the other two, but so willing to take him in as well. He was much bigger than you imagined, but once he was inside you, it was like he lost all semblance of control.

You almost wanted to laugh, what happened to the Jungwoo that was being almost mean to you earlier? Was he so drained that he forgot?

He had you in missionary, long slow thrusts pressing into you as you whimper. He caged you under him, hand holding yours as he used the other for balance. He went in for another kiss again, soft like he was scared you were going to break.

Being with him felt different, of course the others felt good but there was a clear line drawn in the sand with them. Yuta was a performer, he got off to the others looking at him put on a show. Doyoung didn't seem like he was focused on you as much either, and was more about himself.

But Jungwoo? He seemed to be worried about you and only you.

"You're so pretty." He mutters, looking into your eyes.

"P-pretty?" You ask, his length still bullying into you.

"I think you're gorgeous." He confirms, wanting to go in for another kiss.

"Jungwoo..." You wrap your hands around his shoulders as you pull him closer. "I think I like you."

He looks shocked at this, pausing his strokes. "Really?"

You smile, "Yes, really."

"But I'm just me." He avoids eye contact. "You're out of my league and I'm just this dork who studies mechanics! And are you sure you like someone who films himself-"

You interrupt him with a kiss, slipping your tongue past his mouth as you only pull away when you need air. "I don't care about any of that, I like you."

He smiles, "If you hadn't noticed, I've had a thing for you since that day in class when you sat next to me. I was so bummed you weren't even in that class and was just hoping I saw you again."

"Well, I'm glad we found our way back to each other."

"Me too." He speaks before pressing his face into your neck, mumbling as he continues his actions.

You two continue in almost silence, basking in pure love for each other as only small whimpers echo throughout the room. Everything that needed to be said already had been. You two were definitely going to have a long talk after this.

Living with the boys was no longer temporary, it was now your permanent place of residence. Especially since you had packed up your things and moved into your boyfriends room, granting Yuta access back to his room.

Things had been going well. Midterms went smoothly, Jungwoo was great (The sex was too), and you had landed that job you applied for!

You had even made an appearance in your boyfriends job, with masks of course, but nonetheless his viewers ate it up. Now they even sent comments in begging you to start your own channel, but you think you're far from that.

Things weren't awkward with the boys either, in fact, it feels good to have everything open in the air. There weren't any secrets anymore and things just felt like they were almost back to normal.

Breaking the news to Mark and Haechan was definitely... a scene. Mark was heartbroken on Lee Jeno's behalf while Haechan was more worried about how he was the only friend who hadn't gotten to tap that. To which Mark corrected that he hadn't either, which just led to a mess of a conversation.

People were definitely caught off guard when the news of you together broke. Many thought the pairing was funny.

Those like Haechan and Mark thought you had gone mad. And Jungwoo's studious admirers shuddered at how he could be with someone as provocative as you. Ha! If only they knew.

Jungwoo placed an object in front of you, proud of his efforts. "Here it is, the finished scale model."

You pick up the small jet in your hands, giggling at its design. "I love it, it looks like a tiny plane."

"It's a fighter jet!" Doyoung corrects as he joins you both in the kitchen.

You roll your eyes, "I'm aware, I helped paint the stupid thing."

"Stupid?" Jungwoo gasps dramatically.

"That's not what I-"

"Nope." He stops you. "Too late, the damage has been done."

"Jungwoo, don't be dramatic." You plead, though his eyes are already bulging out of his head.

He places his hand on his chest as he pretends to be hurt. "I'm going to go cry and throw up in my room."

"Dear lord," You begin before he runs off to his room. You've grown used to his antics by now. "Guess I have to go reassure him now."

Doyoung snorts, "Gross."

"Not like that, you pervert!"

"Who said I even was talking about that! You made it all dirty!" He retorts back when Yuta enters the room.

"Contrary to popular belief, we don't just fuck every chance we get."

"Tell that to my ears! You guys keep me up most nights, it's so annoying." Yuta complains. "The walls are thin, you know!"

You giggle, walking out of the room to find your sulky boyfriend as you shrug. "Deal with it."

The two watch as you're out of sight, Doyoung pouring himself water for his tea. He notices the look on the others face as he pats him on the shoulder. "You ever regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"Not telling her."

Yuta sighs, looking down before he shakes his head. "No. Jungwoo makes her happy, and that's good enough for me."

Doyoung chuckles, "We could switch rooms, if you want."

"It's all good, It's not that bad."

"You like listening don't you-"

"I'm going to slap you if you finish that sentence."

1K notes · View notes

nightdncer · 3 months ago

Text

“ so, gotta boyfriend.. ? ”

✦ pairing : {college boyfriend} suguru geto x fem!reader

✦ warnings : smut, cusses, pet names, teasing, taunting, typos, ! minors + ageless blogs dni !

✦ A/N : redoing my whole blog >_< || GHOST FACE GETO FANART AT THE END >:3 || oh my gyats, this is longer than my usual stories

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦

it was a usual day. going to your boring classes where you just end up falling asleep, going out with your friends and then rotting in your bed all day long.

yet, something seemed quite off…

usually, there would be your group of friends bothering you. satoru, ieriei, kento and yu. yet, theres one other person as well.

ah! your lover!

you haven’t seen him at all today, not even in classes. well, that’s pretty common since he usually just skips them since the teacher is lecturing about nonsense. plus, it’s college! you’re able to leave class without getting called out.

but still. even while eating out at the buffet satoru made all five of you go, suguru wasn’t there. you remember kento mentioning how he hasn’t seen suguru, yet no one bat an eye on his comment.

as you were staring at the ceiling, just thinking about your day, you suddenly get a phone call from an unknown number.

huh. that’s strange.

you thought to yourself.

usually, you wouldn’t receive unknown numbers, unless they were scam callers. but you’ve blocked them all already. perhaps a new one?

you knew you shouldn’t click that green button, yet it just seemed so tempting. something in you, your guts, was saying to press that button and bring the phone to your ear. so, out of pure curiosity, you did.

“…” you nor the other person said anything, just yet.

with the awkward yet seemingly terrifying silence, you quietly mumbled out, “hello.?”

the person on the other line, seemingly to be a male voice, chuckled. perhaps he could tell you were scared? I mean, you were about to stutter but you caught yourself.

“so…” the man from the other line began speaking, his voice low and naturally raspy. “you scared?”

what do you do? if you lie, he’ll most likely instantly tell. but, you never like admitting your true feelings. yet, there’s nothing you can do, this man will probably track down the truth.

“cmon, sweetheart, answer me~” he taunted you, impatiently waiting for your simple answer.

“yes, I am scared.. what about-”

he cut you off, chuckling at your fear. “of course you are.. I mean, look at you.”

“look at you?” is he watching me?

you think to yourself, wiping off the sweat of fear from your forehead.

as a few seconds of silence from you two go on, the man started teasing you, “I can hear your heaving breathing, sweetheart.”

sweetheart?

what a weird pet name to call someone, especially from an unknown number.

“.. just tell me what you want..” you grumbled out.

“begging for the truth, huh? so bratty..” he purred in the phone, his voice sending shivers down your spine just from his tone of voice.

“besides..” he was starting to talk once more. “you’ll learn soon.”

damn it. you were pretty impatient, and for waiting for the reason why this unknown number was calling you is driving you insane.

the other line let out a bored yawn, then whispering in his natural raspy voice,

“so, gotta boyfriend..?” he purrs.

“excuse me?” you responded, not even thinking about saying that. it was just a surprised response to his unusual question.

“you heard be, darlin’”

“you gotta boyfriend?”

“yes.. what about him?”

the other line chuckled softly, as you heard a shake from a doorknob. it couldn’t be your doorknob… right?

“comin’ in darling.” he whispers, ending the phone call.

as the door open, it was a tall guy, seemingly to be 6’3 in a black coat and a mask. the ghost face mask from Scream.

he took it off, revealing to be your boyfriend, suguru geto.

“s- sugu?!” you stammered in shock.

he hopped onto the edge of the bed and lays down on his stomach, resting his head on your lap. his head radiating his warmth onto your cold fragile lap.

“I scared ya.” he mumbled out, having a taunting smirk, like he was triumphed that he scared you.

you couldn’t help but lift up your hand and graze it on his hair, ruffling it every now and then. “couldn’t ya tell it was me?” he commented, leaning into your touch. “no.. you changed your voice, suguru!!” you grumbled out, pouting. “ah, I supposed I did, doll.”

he then grabbed your waist and lifted you up in the air, him adjusting himself to lay on his back. he then put you on his already harden length, chuckling at your widen eyes. “aww, what’s wrong?” he teases you, pretending to act clueless.

as he said that, he started making you grind against his bulge, making you gasp in surprise.

“woa woa, suguru!” you stammered out, him slapping your ass hard to wane you to shush.

“you don’t know what we’re about to do, not yet…” he whispers. “be quiet… these dorm walls are thin.” he grumbled, taking off your shorts.

“wearin’ my shirt again?” he commented, his baggy T-shirt being oversized for you. “goddamn it, I won’t be able to see your ride me.” he grumbles, taking off ‘your’ shirt, leaving you with a loose tang top.

he pulled down his pants, along with his boxers and threw them on the carpet floor with your pant and panties.

“it’s not gonna fit.” you mumbled, turning your head to the side to see it grazing against your clit. “oh, yes it will doll.”

he then pushed you down into it without warning, not even with letting part of it in first for you to get comfortable with it.

“tell me if it hurts.” he warns, not wanting to hurt your small fragile body.

his large hands on your waist did the job, not him lifting part of his body to keep thrusting into you, not you having your own body bouncing up and down, his hands did it.

“o- oh!” you gasp, looking at suguru, still in his ghost face costume.

“uh huh, keep making those sounds.” he grumbles, picking up his pace with his hand on your waist. “hmgh.!” you whimper out, revealing your neck to him with your eyes rolled back and his hand on your mouth.

“keep making those sounds..” he repeats, adding, “don’t be so loud we get ‘another’ noise complaint.” he teases you.

he saw the bulge in your walls, his length revealing aganist your skin. it was just so tempting to give a little push to it, so he did.

“nonono!” you stammer, as you leaned against him, laying on top of him so he doesn’t see you squirt just from that simple push.

he chuckles as he lifts you back up, your juices all over his length. “you’re so cute..” he mumbled, as he restarted his pace.

“gah!” he moaned out load. “soso much…” you whisper.

too big..

you think to yourself, your lips quivering, and as you were getting dumb from his length, he came into you.

“f- fuckkk..” he groans, smirking at your lips skittering.

he gave some gentle smacks on your ass and whispers, “boo.”

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by aransmind on tiktok

281 notes · View notes

dumpywrites · 1 month ago

Text

Test Drive - Min Yoongi / Suga

Prompt: “How does one incite a first kiss?”

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, friends to lovers, friends with benefits? but they only kiss

Pairing: Yoongi x she/her reader

a/n: The idea of friends figuring out their feelings for each other is always so cute to me idk why >_<

Yoongi and you used to date once… back in high school. That happened due to peer pressure and the fear of missing out from not getting a prom date like everyone else. In fact, neither one of you had ever said anything about your feelings to each other, just a mere “do you think it’d be cool if we just date?” uttered by your friend on a random Thursday after school. It didn’t last that long as you agreed that friendship just made a lot more sense than relationship to you both.

Fast forward to just a few years later, you were now a fully functional adult, at least that was what you’d like to think. The high school quote on quote friendship gang that you used to have, was now slowly divided by work. All of you were occupied by your own schedules, projects, side jobs, or simply, just adulting stuff. You were just glad you had a friend like Jimin who would take his time to organize random hangouts now and then, just for the sake of it.

And so after not meeting for around two full months, all of your schedules finally lined up. It also happened to be the first time in forever that Jin introduced someone new to your group, a girlfriend.

“Honestly, I thought you’d die alone.” Taehyung said nonchalantly.

“Just because you were voted most handsome student that one time in college, doesn’t mean you get to say shit like this…” Jin said, clearly annoyed, which only resulted in laughter from everyone.

“You’re just butthurt you weren’t the one who won.” Taehyung smirked and took a sip of his cola.

“Cut it off guys, you’re scaring poor Wendy here.” You said, smiling at the girl sitting next to Jin. “Don’t worry, we’re not always like this.”

“She has to get used to it one way or another, she’s dating the most annoying one in our group after all!” Jimin said while snickering.

“I swear I’m going to murder you all…” Jin groaned. The girlfriend next to him only giggled.

“Man, I wish I wasn’t so single.” Nayeon puffed her cheeks and sighed. “It’s gonna be Christmas soon too.”

You nodded. “Relatable.”

“Aren’t you and Yoongi used to date though?” Jimin suddenly said.

The guy who was only quietly sipping his coffee, suddenly straightened his posture. “I heard my name mentioned.” Yoongi said.

“Oh my god… it was just silly thing we did to have a prom date!” You whined. “Right, Yoongi?” You looked at the guy, searching for validation. You earned a shrug from him.

“I wanna know the details!” Wendy suddenly said with excitement.

“We were both dumb and had never dated anyone before. It was more of a play date kind of thing.” You replied, looking at Yoongi again in hope that he would back you up.

“I was the one who suggested it, the fomo was getting to me seeing Taehyung date left and right. Look at how that turned out for him though…” Yoongi simply said. The mentioned guy could be heard protesting in the background.

“I always wonder,” Nayeon tapped her chin in a comical way. “Did y’all ever kiss or something?”

“Eww, never!!!” You cringed, while the others laughed. “We dated for two weeks in total because just holding hands made us gag.”

“Not gonna lie, I could picture it. The two of you would look cute.” Wendy commented with a playful smile.

“Lord… trust me, we don’t.” You shook your head at her.

“Hey, Yoongs!” Jimin called. “When was even the last time you went on a date?!”

“Contrary to popular believe I actually go on dates, excuse you.” The guy rolled his eyes, taking another sip of his coffee.

“I hardly believe that. We don’t need to count Y/N here, okay???” Jimin chuckled.

And that was how Yoongi became grumpy the entire ride back home. He gave you a ride because your house was in the same direction and you were just too lazy to deal with the busy street on a Saturday night. The moment you stepped inside the car, the guy was already complaining. With some time to kill, you decided to stop at a drive thru for some ice cream and chit-chats.

“They really need to mind their own business.” Yoongi said, still vexed.

“I’m sure they were just joking.”

“Do I really look like a loser?!”

“You don’t.” You quickly replied.

He sighed. “Sorry, it’s just that it’s been a while and I suddenly feel self conscious.”

“Aww, Yoongi…” You cooed. “Is there someone in mind though?”

“Not really.” He said with a straight face.

“What’s it like anyway? Your ideal type and all…” You turned your body to face his side, lifting your feet a little bit.

“Uh… I guess I like someone who has no filter and just chill.”

“What about appearance?”

“You sound oddly excited.” He side eyed you.

“I’m just curious! Plus you never really talked to me about this and we’ve been friends for years.”

“Hmm… let me think.” He tapped his thigh, wondering. “Nah, I think I couldn’t care less.”

“I find it hard to believe that…” You squinted your eyes. “Men are visual beings.”

“Do not generalize!” He eyed you again.

“Is it someone like Minjoo? Cause I remembered her being very pretty.” You didn’t know why you were whispering.

“That was such a long time ago.” He shook his head.

“Hey, I heard that apparently your first relationship supposedly shapes your ideal type.” You shrugged.

“So it’s you then.”

Your eyes widened. He really had to say it with the blankest looking expression. The honesty of this man really blew your mind sometimes.

“Oh, shut up! That doesn’t count!!!” You protested.

He only chuckled, clearly finding your reaction amusing.

“Is Minjoo your first kiss?” You whispered again, wiggling your eyebrows.

“This topic has clearly shifted from wanting to help me out to full blown interrogation.” He folded his arms and closed his eyelids. “No, she was not.”

You dramatically gasped. “The drama!”

“I think my first kiss was in uni and neither of us were sober at that time so it doesn’t really matter.” He scoffed.

“Damn, I was gonna ask how’s your first kiss like, only for you to say that. I’m sorry, I guess.” You sighed with a teasing smile on your face.

“What’s yours like?” He asked.

“It was sweet actually.” You smiled as you reminisced through the memory. “Both of us were really shy and I think we kissed under a tree. It was some real k-drama shit.” You laughed. “It’s kinda embarrassing now that I think of it…”

“Must be nice.” He nodded a few times. “To be quite honest with you, I don’t even know if I’m a good kisser.”

You raised your hand and high-fived him. “Surely that’s not something we should be proud of.” You giggled. “Like, how does one incite a first kiss? Hell, how does one incite a kiss in general???”

“I’m pretty sure you just go for it, don’t need to think much.” He laughed. “Worst case scenario you get rejected.”

“This conversation started with me wanting to help you with your insecurities to then giving me an insecurity! Now I’m worried about my kissing skill!!!” You whined.

“You think you might be rusty? If you’re rusty, then what am I?!” He grinned.

“Should we just practice kissing?”

The car suddenly went silent. It was no help that the radio volume was playing at almost the lowest volume. The sentence just flashed through your mind and you let it out without thinking of it twice. In your head, it would be way weirder to ask someone random or even someone you romantically interested in to indulge in the idea. He was your friend, a very close one too. He was in fact, just Yoongi. It should not be weird, right?

Yoongi’s lips turned into a big O shape. “I’m sorry, what?!”

“I mean, in what other situation can you just ask a person to practice kiss with you. Any other situation would be too embarrassing. We’re just friends that want to test something out!”

“You sure it wouldn’t be weird?” Yoongi raised one of his eyebrows.

“I think so?” You looked at him skeptically.

“No take-backs.” He warned you.

“Roger that.” You nodded. “Do we just… uh, how do we???”

Instead of replying, he just softly brought you closer. The space in between the car seat was making it a bit tricky, but his hand smoothly pulled you by the back of your neck. And your lips met, just like that. Both of you let it linger for a few seconds, before you felt his lips moving, so automatically, your response was to mimic his movement.

“Stick your tongue out for me.” He said between the kiss.

“Oh, you’re giving directions now?”

You pulled back, smirking at him before leaning back in. You did as told and soon found both of your tongue dancing, intertwining with each other. You couldn’t help but to giggle every now and then, breaking the kiss as you did, but each time Yoongi would reach for your lips back on his. You could feel him smiling through it, maybe he wanted to giggle along with you too.

After what felt like forever, you both pulled away, mostly due to the awkward angle making your back ache a little bit.

“That was… something.” You chuckled, fingertips holding your lips as you still couldn’t believe what happened.

“That was not so bad…” He breathed out and grinned.

“I think so too.” You giggled. “It’s just kinda funny though, I’m sorry I kept laughing.”

“It’s okay, it’s kinda cute to be honest.”

Sometimes you hated how frank your friend could be, because this was the kind of stuff he just blurted out without thinking, and it was messing with your head.

“So… what do we do with this information?” You looked at him, feeling your face flushed.

“Nothing, I suppose.”

It was just a week after when you receive a text from Yoongi, asking if by any chance you were free after work. You were not sure what he wanted to say that was so important to the point that he had to tell in person immediately. You soon found out why.

“I have a date tonight.”

He said, standing right in front of your door that you just closed right after welcoming him in. It was raining and the black hoodie he was wearing was slightly damped after running from the parking lot, adding to the dramatic effect. It looked like he was shivering ever so slightly, you just had the tiniest urge to hug him to make sure he was warm.

“Huh?” You gaped. “With who??? I didn’t know you were close with someone?!“

“I downloaded bumble a few days ago. It was Taehyung’s idea.” He cut your question short.

You folded your arms, wanting to tease him but no words came up. You couldn’t exactly pin point as to why you felt almost disappointed upon hearing the news. “Congrats? You could just call me or text me.”

“What if I kiss her at the end of the date?”

Your eyes widened as you started to get some ideas. Or you could just be one hell of a pervert if that was not the case.

“I need your feedback… and consent.” For the first time in a while, you saw nervousness in Yoongi’s face. He kept fiddling with the ring he had in his middle finger. He cleared his throat before popping a question slash offer to you.

“Can we practice again just for a bit?”

In short, Yoongi ended up ditching the date and spent the whole night making out with you on the couch. He never asked or mentioned anything about the alleged date afterwards, just silently watched the tv you had on as you leaned on his shoulder.

The first time was odd, but it was odd in a cute and endearing way. But the second one was intense. If you were giggling mid kissing before, this time you were holding down your voice, trying to not make any weird noise. When he bit your lower lip, did he remember the fact that both of you were just friends?

At this point you were both experts in kissing. At least in your case that was what you would like to believe. It had been going on for weeks and it was turning into a habit that you found yourself guilty on too. It was just too easy to keep coming back to him, asking the silly question. It appeared to be the same for him as well. He never refused. Kept coming back to you as well.

None of you ever addressed anything, not that you thought it would matter anyway. It would be a lie to say that you didn’t enjoy this, because clearly, you were addicted at this point. You just could not bring yourself to stop. Any chance you get to be alone with him, your lips would find each other almost as instantly. It would always just end like that though, a kiss, a make out sesh. Never more, never less.

With Christmas just around the corner your friends were starting to plan getaways, dinners, parties, and other possible options. You? You were just thinking of how to sneak and shower Yoongi with smooches. It was getting unhealthy and you were completely aware, but oh well.

Came twenty fourth of December. It was snowing and surroundings were looking festive. With everyone having days off from work, it was decided that renting a cabin and spending the night there sounded perfect to all of you.

Wendy and you were in charge of the Christmas tree, while Jin and Taehyung being the taller ones in the group, were assigned for decorations that acquired more height. Yoongi could be seen trying to set up the fireplace, as Jimin and Nayeon set up the food and snacks.

“Done!” Wendy clapped her hands happily as both of you finished the tree with a star on top.

“We should take a picture together with the tree!” Nayeon exclaimed.

All of you started to scoot, preparing your poses as Nayeon grabbed her phone and put it on a table after setting the camera timer. When she ran back to quickly join the rest of you, you suddenly felt Yoongi’s arm coming from your back, pulling you closer to him. A big grin was plastered on his face. Normally, you wouldn’t bat an eye to that, you had been friends for years and years. So you weren’t so sure why it made you malfunction for a second when you felt his fingertips brushing your shoulder. Thankfully, you had enough time to look up back at the camera to make an appropriate expression.

Two board games and one boring christmas movie later, most of you were sleepy, if not a little bit tipsy. Taehyung started taking sips of Jimin’s coffee he found in the fridge, that was when you knew that man was drunk. While Jin and Wendy had already head upstairs to their room, Nayeon and Jimin were sitting on the carpet while you and Yoongi on the couch, with this weird gap between the two of you.

“I heard the bumble dates went well.” Taehyung said, as he occupied the empty space between you and Yoongi.

Your head immediately jerked to your left side, looking at both Yoongi and Tae. Didn’t he ditch the date? “Oh, you actually went to the date?”

Yoongi looked at you, with yet again another unreadable expression. He was about to open his mouth but the other guy beat him to it.

“Did he show you her photos? The girl looks hot!” Taehyung exclaimed eagerly.

“Our Yoong-yoong finally went on a date?” Jimin looked up with a curious smile.

“Oooh, spill the tea!�� Nayeon joined.

“It was only one date.”

You froze. So he did go to the date and he never told you a single thing. You were not sure how to feel or how to react regarding the news, but you felt betrayed.

“She’s not a catfish or anything, right?” Taehyung asked, scooting closer to Yoongi.

“She’s not.”

“Nice.” Taehyung nudged the man. “Are y’all going on another date or something?”

“I don’t think—“

“You better be!” Tae cut the guy short again. “Come on, you need this. You need to at least get laid.” He laughed.

“Hey, maybe let’s not pressure the guy like that…” Nayeon said to Taehyung.

“Let’s just celebrate the fact that Yoongi just went on a date.” Jimin chuckled.

You tried your best to not look like the conversation bothered you in any way. “Told you, you have nothing to worry about.” You said to him with a smile.

Yoongi was only silent and soon the topic changed.

The next morning you woke up very early, but most likely due to the fact that you could barely catch any snooze. You decided to make yourself a cup of tea and sat on the front porch, enjoying the cold morning air and the falling pieces of snow.

You started getting teary. You could be still sleepy, maybe it could also be the hormones acting up. It’s about time of your PMS, judging by the date, but you were not certain. What made you so upset about? You should be thrilled that your friend who you wanted so badly to get his confidence back, finally went on an actual date.

Not even seconds later that your mind started to wander at a possibility of him kissing another person, then you started tearing up again.

Sooner or later you needed to accept the cold hard truth. Jealousy was a knife.

“Isn’t it cold out there?”

You looked back, surprised to see Yoongi closing the front door behind. He took off his gloves and placed it on your lap.

“It’s fine, the tea is warm.” You reasoned.

“I don’t feel that cold.” He said, taking the seat next to you. “Why are you up so early?”

“Could ask the same to you.” You said after putting on the gloves. It was slightly bigger and your heart raced at the thought.

“Can’t sleep.” He chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. “You?”

“Same.” You realized you hadn’t looked him in his direction the whole time.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

You were taken aback by the sentence, but still chose to look straight at the scenery in front of you. “About what?”

“The date.” He sighed. “Actually, I only went because I felt bad that we already agreed on a time and place but I cancelled on her in such short notice before. She actually turned out to be really nice and we hung out for a bit…”

You felt sick listening to it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, instead you just nodded along.

“She asked me for a second date but I refused.”

This time you looked at him. “Why? Didn’t you say that she turned out to be really nice?”

“That day after I took her home, we almost kissed… I backed away because out of nowhere I just saw your face.” He sighed, followed by a nervous chuckle. “She’s nice…” He looked away, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “But she isn’t you.”

What?

“Yoongi, I don’t understand…”

“I don’t either, but I can’t bring myself to kiss anyone else other than you.” He looked at you with a genuine expression. “Can’t imagine you kissing anyone else either, it kills me.”

It had been the same case for you too.

“I actually feel the same way.” You let out a relieved chuckle, feeling a huge weight lifted off your shoulders. “What does this mean for us now?”

He smiled, so wide that your heart melted seeing the sight. He took your right hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. You felt your cheeks warmed up, and a giddy smile curved your lips. This definitely was different from how you felt back in the day.

“You good?” He asked with a big gummy grin.

“It doesn’t feel weird like how it was when we fake dated.” You giggled.

He smiled and held your cheek with his hand, while the other still holding yours. Midway through leaning in, he stopped and straightened his gaze at you.

“I like you, if that’s not clear by now.”

“I know.” You giggled, blushing.

He quirked his eyebrow. It seemed like he was not too pleased with you not saying the magic words back to him. He might need to kiss you first to earn it and that was the idea that Yoongi could definitely get behind.

Oh you could already imagine the chaos when your friends finally found out about this whole rollercoaster of a story.

Thank you for reading! 🖤

#bts fanfic #bts fic #bts scenarios #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fluff #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #suga x reader #suga imagine #yoongi imagine #suga scenarios

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wasitforrevenge · 5 months ago

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new romantics

pairing: MODERN AU!college azriel x female reader

warnings: may be some triggering content including tampon is a douchbag at a party, mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of sexual activity but nothing major, smut books mentioned (hehehe) a fight occurs but can you blame him? he’s just defending your honor ugh, two idiots in love who want nothing but each other and can’t admit it, no use of y/n, imagine her as you, because it is YOU! half editted… ill get to it later i promise

word count: 4.5k

summary: your new study partner is better than you first realize… and now you can’t stop thinking about him, but he can’t stop thinking of you either.

authors note: hi first time writing for acotor! been a fan of these books for a while and my baby azriel does something to me!!! so here’s something i spent the night writing it was 10 different things before it was this lol! pls like, reblog and comment! thank you everyone for reading! photo credit to pinterest, and please i strive to do better so any thoughts pls free feel to let me know! thank you for the support! this is the first time i’ve had the energy to write in months so pls dont go too hard

you met azriel in a greek mythology lecture that you both ended up in during the second semester of your sophomore year. getting partnered with an incredibly built and handsome man for a history report your teacher assigned was the least of your problems when you realized how fucking kind and beautiful azriel is on the inside and out.

the real problem came when you realized how hard you were falling for this man when you started hanging out casually, hitting the coffee stand before class or getting food after a long day. you learned so much about him in a matter of months and couldn’t get him out of your head.

you never spoke existence to your feelings for him, mainly because you didn’t want to ruin a very good potential friendship but partly because you didn’t think you were good enough for someone like him. you’ve heard little whispers about his other… activities and you couldn’t help the way it made you feel.

at the start of your junior year, you and azriel were practically best friends and it just felt so natural. the way you two were together. the way your conversations flowed and the way the silence was never deafening when you were together. you spent time cuddling on the couch in your living room watching movies and rating tv shows and going to visit parks around town and getting high as fuck. once time you had even gone crazy and took some acid and spent hours at the aquarium watching all the fish. you studied for classes together, the one you shared and the ones you both took on your own.

you and azriel were always testing out new recipes in his large kitchen. its wonderful that he lives alone. alone as in by himself but you cannot glance over the fact that the rhysand and feyre along with cassian and nesta live on the same floor of this apartment building close to campus. you luckly only live 2 floors down, a thing you realized when you managed to see him in the elevator about a week or two after you first started studying together.

you were debating all summer about confessing your feelings to him but could not gather the courage to bring yourself to admit it to him and face rejection. you couldn’t mess up the relationship between you already. he was your best friend and you really didn’t have too many besides him. you’ve met his family and have spend a lot of time with them, they’re all practically adopted you at the point, they welcomed you with smiles and open arms (besides amren but they told you she’s always like that.)

but a couple weeks into the semester, you and nesta were standing in a kitchen of a person you don’t know debating on what shitty cheap alcohol you’ll be indulging in tonight. it was the first big back to school party and it was still hot as hell out so you were dressed in dark denim shorts and nice tank top along with your black converse.

you and nesta instantly clicked when you met. bonding over smutty books and all the tv shows you managed to watch. she’s felt like your first real girl-friend ever, you guys got some comfortable together and every time you guys hung out, it felt like no time had passed. it was refreshing to have someone to talk to. she also happens to be the only one who knows about the feelings you harbor for your other best friend.

as you’re about to pour the tequila into your red solo cup, you hear someone call nesta’s name and she tells you she’ll be right back before scurrying off to whichever of her friends was calling her. leaving you there alone not knowing anyone at the party, nesta told you the rest of the group was going to meet you there but you have yet to see any of them as you turn your head around the room.

as you fill your cup and turn to put the bottle back down on the counter, you feel a hand glide around your waist and are suddenly aware of a man extremely too close your liking. “hey baby” he said as he slurred his words, clearly intoxicated, by the way he looked and smelled. it sent more warnings through your head even after he grabbed you like that. you had to leave, this couldn’t happen. thoughts are rushing through your head. you move your hand to push his arm off you as you turn around to be face to face with a tall blonde with long hair.

“what was that for?” he drags out as he tried to put his hand back on you. you instantly tried to move towards the way nesta went and told him, “please get off!” but he was too fast and held your upper arm in a death grip before he tugged you closer to his chest, his other hand back on your waist like the first time he did it. your eyes close in fear as he leans down to whisper something in your ear, but he’s gone in an instant.

it all happened so fast. all you see is a large, muscular, tattooed arm flying in front of you, hitting the man who was on you just seconds ago. you watched shocked as you finally lock in to the situation before you.

azriel beating the shit out of the man who had just laid his hands on you.

azriel swung his fist again towards him, hitting him square in the jaw, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he screamed at him, having another punch already landing with his other fist.

the man doesn’t respond before he swings back at azriel and managed to get a decent swing in, the hit landed to his lip but azriel doesn’t move at all. he’s standing still in the spot, continuing to tower over him.

azriel shoved the man back into the counter and landed a powerful hook right to his nose simultaneously. he cried out as it made contact, “fuck dude c’mon,” he reached up to grab it, blood pouring from his broken nose and busted lip. he steps closer as he removes his hand looking at the red liquid that has held onto his skin, ready to defend himself against the beautiful man that your eyes cannot stray from.

but azriel is faster and before he could even blink, managed to grab a hold of his shirt and pull him up to where his toes barely touched the floor. his hands fall at his sides and his eyes widen in fear as azriel gets closer to his face, leaning down to whisper something in his ear that you can’t hear over the loud music, people partying and the screaming and crying in your heart as you watched this all unfold.

suddenly azriel is tossing the man back into the counter and he barely managed to grab it and hold on, azriel suddenly grows larger, as if he could get any bigger, and leans to spit out the blood that had collected in his mouth behind him. and suddenly your attention is focused on the warmth now englufing your wrist. your eyes immediately register the sight of him standing in front of you, this was warm and right, his hands on you. it just felt so right.

his other hand reached out and gently lifts your chin to meet his gaze. the way the sense of safety coursed through you with his simple touch just confirmed, yet again, that this was going to be so hard for you to tell him.

“hey baby…” he spoke softly, his eyes darted between both yours. his attention solely on you. he let his finger rub against your cheek as he finished, “are you okay?” you can’t help the feeling the shoots through you at the use of the pet name and the look of shock that painted your face. not knowing if it came from, whether it was from what unfolded in front of you at this party or the fact he still holding your face and talking to you like this, so sweetly.

you blinked a couple times and the realization hit you that you’ve just been standing there, staring into his beautiful eyes. not paying attention to the group of people that crowded around as the fight was happening or the looks you guys are getting from other party goers that still surrounded you. the only thing you can stand to focus on his gaze.

azriel.

“i don’t know,” you almost whisper towards him, feeling his warmth covering you both. before you can talk again, he moves his scarred hand from your wrist, you feel almost… empty at the loss of contact but that doesn’t last long as he slipped his hand into yours and intertwined his fingers with yours as he guided you towards the front door.

you passed by so many people, you tried not to pay attention to all the looks you were getting. girls stared as they realized it wasn’t themselves in azriel’s grasp, but you. it was your hand he was holding. your heart beat at just the thought of it, your nerves were already shot as the events unfolded not even 10 minutes ago and this did not help one bit.

your eyes manage to catch nesta’s in the crowd, her eyes widen as she takes in the sight before her, azriel holding your hand and leading you out of the party. oblivious to what actually happened to cause this, she gave you a huge smile and two thumbs up. you cant help but silently chuckle at your friend despite the other overwhelming feelings you have. you’ll explain the situation later when you text her but you were sure eventually she’d hear what happened.

he leads you out the front door and looks back at you with a small smile as you trail behind him. he walked you over, without a word and hands still intertwined and you finally notice your next to his old beat up mustang on the side of the street, the one that smells like him and the faint smell of weed that always lingers regardless of the last time he smoked in there.

he opened the car door for you and you released your hand from his and got into the passengers seat. once you were in, he reached over and buckled your seatbelt for you, giving it a tug to make sure it was connected before smiling down at you from outside the car. he shut the door satisfied and walked around the back of the car to open his own door and sat inside.

the silence is comfortable. it always has been, you pray that sometimes it’s awkward or uncomfortable but it never is. you sit in your seat, eyes staring down towards the hand he had been holding, almost in disbelief, that he defended you like that. you’ve never seen azriel angry like that either. he turns to face you, wanting you to meet his eyes.

azriel walked in the front door of the party, after having a pretty day. the customers at the restaurant he works truly sucked today. small tips and even shittier people. all he wanted to do was smoke off some steam and get drunk with cassian and rhys. he knew you were going to be here. cassian mentioned it in passing while talking about nesta so he was also on the look out for you. the girl who managed to catch his heart after having been partnered together. azriel couldn’t help the way he felt about you even though it almost felt wrong to him.

he didn’t want to take advantage of you, he knew you were shy and never really been in a relationship. he found that out when he walked into the kitchen of cassian and nesta’s apartment, and overheard nesta telling cass all about you after her and you hung out for the first time outside the group. so he just tried to ignore his feelings but regardless of that fact you were his bestfriend. he just couldn’t escape you.

and when he walked into that kitchen to see tamlin standing over you, your arm tight in his grip, the way your eyes were slammed shut trying to back away from him. he didn’t even think. he was there pulling him off you before he could even recognize what he was doing. throwing punches left and right towards the man who dared touched you. he barely even registered the hit he managed on no one but him can put his hands on you. he’s had that thought before but never brought life to it, but here? now?

all thoughts of guilt for feeling that way vanished. there was no way he was letting anyone touch you. but him. that’s all he wanted. he wanted you in a way he didn’t think was reciprocated. love was a funny thing to him, something he was never accustomed to until after he met rhysand and cassian.

his family never showed it, he lives with the constant knowledge of that every time he looks down at his hands. he thought about the way you never judged him of them, like it was nothing at all to you but that was everything to him.

the one sided crush he harbored on mor for a couple years was nothing in comparison to the way he felt about you. his few flings he had over the past couple years (after he realized it was pointless liking mor, also… because she slept with cassian) were mildly of convince and of urge but once he met you, he knew he was a goner.

he stopped the girls. the stopped the meaningless flirting and hooks up and took to just pleasuring himself to the thought as you, as shitty as it made him felt after. sometimes he just couldn’t look you in the eye the next time he saw you but you never said anything. you never commented on it and he silently thanked you in his head.

but right now, after he pulled you out of the party, scarred hand in yours, he needed you to look him in the eyes. but you still hadn’t and he couldn’t just keep staring at the face of the beautiful woman in front of him while it was coated with anxiety and exhaustion.

azriel lifted his distorted hand to your face meeting the soft warm skin that was your own. he gently brought your face to meet his gaze and as you locked eyes, the spark hit you yet again.

gods he was breathtaking. dark hair that covered to above his ears, the eyes that seemed to stare into yours every single time they met, the tattoos that covered him and his golden brown skin that you swore shined outright during different points in the day. your heart cannot handle this man.

“please,” he practically whispered you barely even registered that he said it before he continued, “are you okay, what can i do?” the sound in his voice felt desperate as his eyes bore into yours, the feel of his hand on her face, you couldn’t help but lean into his grasp and close your eyes, taking in the feel of him. you responded a moment later after letting out a sigh and looking at him again.

“can we just go home? i just want to sleep” you asked him with a pleading tone as you feel his thumb rub against your cheek for the second time that night. ugh the things this man does to you. all you wanted was for him to hold you, to feel the press of his body against yours. anything to get the feeling of someone else off you. “yeah baby, we can.” he said gently before he moved his hand down to yours and gave you a light squeeze before he turned the car on and shifted into gear, pulling off in the direction of home.

once you arrived back to the apartment building, he parked in the lot next to the front door and moved around the car to open your door, he gave you his hand as you stepped out. he went to put his hand at your lower back as he opened the door for you but decided against just in case that was a lot for you right now. he did not want to make it worse. he could see the fear in your eyes back there, no way would he subject you to that if you weren’t comfortable with it. so instead he just followed behind you, hitting the button to the elevator to take you up to your floor.

the elevator luckily isn’t taking forever today so when it opens, you and azriel step in and he goes to hit the floor for your apartment but your hand reaches out and stops him. “can we go to yours please?” your head moves up to meet his gaze but his eyes are focused on where your hand is on his wrist. a second later his eyes meet yours and he gives you a small nod and hits the button for the fifth floor. you remove your hand and lean against the wall right next to him, his hand reaches out and entangles his bumpy fingers with yours.

“is this okay?” he asks you. you can barely hold it in after that, the tears finally fall. he feels the sudden change in your body as he moves closer to you but removing his hand from yours in fear that you didn’t want to touch him. but in reality that’s all you want. you want him to touch you. you want him to love you. you want everything with him. its all just so overwhelming, everything that has happened.

he goes to speak but before he can get a word out, your body is on his engulfing him in a hug around his long torso, he instantly wraps his arms around your smaller frame. he can feel your body shake with tears and all he wants to do is make sure that no one ever makes you feel like this again. you deserve so much better, he only wishes he could be better for you too. you squeeze him tighter and he just holds you until the elevator door opens and you pull away from him. mascara and tears running down your face, you can see it on his shirt. he smiles at you before he pulls his hands to your face and wipes your cheeks off with his rough yet soft hands.

you cant help the laugh that escapes you as he wipes his hands on the t-shirt staining it even more with the leftover residue on your face. he gives you a chuckle before connected your hands yet again, walking with you out of the elevator to his one bedroom apartment. he fishes in his pocket with his other hand and pulls out his keys. he unlocked the door and held it open for you to walk in.

your senses are taken over by the smell of him. the smell of his candle lingered from the coffee table covered with textbooks in the large living room, he has a basket of blankets he keeps in the corner because he knows you get cold watching tv. he has a big L shaped couch which had a 60 inch tv across the room, with a boatload of dvds underneath. something you both agreed was a dying art. you and azriel swear physical media will make a comeback one day but you guys will never forget how they ruined it!

his space was a lot bigger since you have a two bedroom apartment. but it was perfect for him. azriel had loved the way he made his space his own, his bass guitars set up in the corner next to his collection of vinyl records and a record player that rhys and cassian got him when he turned 21… as well as a shit ton of booze. he had a bookshelf that held his favorites, as well as your own.

he bought a copy of almost every book you talked about so that he was in the loop with what you were reading. even the ones you didn’t talk about that he caught on your nightstand or in your reading nook. when he bought one of those and read it, his jaw dropped. he immediately thought of nesta and her smutty books but this sent something else though his body. he couldn’t help but keep reading… he wondered if you thought about him while reading these scenes of them ravishing each other, in every way imaginable. he sure did! his right hand hates him!

and you definitely did to… thought about him in ways that you shouldn’t. thinking about him doing all those things to you. the way you knew he would take care of you. the way you knew you could take care of him, despite how inexperienced you are. the thoughts drove you crazy. it was practically all day and every day at this point. thinking about the way his hands would feel running up your thighs or the way his lips would feel on yours.

now here you are, standing in his living room, just wanting all that and little did you know… he did too.

“hey az…” you uttered towards him. he was already next to you as you spoke, “can we lay down please?” your voice was barely a whisper.

he didn’t even need to speak, he just brought you to his room. he lead you to sit on the corner of the bed as he turned and riffled through his dresser, pulling out a large dark green shirt and handing it to you with a smile, “change into this, i’ll be right back.”

“can i take a shower?” you asked azriel shyly. “yes of course, one sec.” you watched as he walked out the room and shut the door behind him. you took your shoes off and placed them by the bedroom door next to azriel’s shoes. he came back in a second later with a fresh towel and a water bottle.

“here you go, you already know where the shower is,” he says with a small chuckle. you give him a grateful smile and a thank you as you took the items from his hands and gave him one last look before heading into his connecting bathroom.

you turned on the hot water and you stripped out of your clothes and threw them into the laundry hamper in the corner of the bathroom. you got in the shower and felt instantly better. the way the water followed hot you could feel the touch of the man from the party washing away, only to be replaced with thoughts of azriel touching you instead. you reviled in it.

you washed your hair and body with his shampoo, conditioner and body wash. silently thanking him for not using 3-in-1 (nesta found out that’s what cassian used and flipped shit) you finished your shower and dried off with the towel he gave you.

you put on his t-shirt that made its way down to your mid thigh when it was on completely. you loved when you were covered in him. you walked back out into the room and didn’t see azriel so you took your seat at the edge of the bed and waiting for him to come back. you sat there and picked at your nails, feeling so wore out you didn’t even want to cry anymore.

azriel came in two minutes later, dressed him long flannel pajama pants and you can see the band of his underwear peeking out as he gets closer to you. he changed after you went into the bathroom, and then went to the kitchen to make sure he was stocked up on the tea you liked and the snacks you guys enjoy together, just in case you got hungry.

he ran around his living room and cleaned random odds and ends. putting dishes in the sink, folding the blankets thrown on the couch and organizing his cd collection. anything to busy himself instead of thinking of you in his shower. anything to get his mind off the amazing woman just in the other room. he hears the shower turn off and waited a few more moments before heading back into the room.

he moved the covers down to make room for you as he said, “after you princess,” with a smile on his face. you returned it and stood up to make your way to the bed but not before turning to hug him again. his arms wrapped around you as you mumbled “thank you azriel,” into his chest. you hold on for a few moments before releasing him. he looks at you before motioning to the bed, “i would do anything for you, you know that.” you felt your cheeks grow red at the thought, at the knowledge that he would.

you climb into the bed and laid your head on the pillow, turning to look at azriel, you wondered why he was still standing. “az are you coming?” you said bashfully. he blinked and bent down to the bed to be eye level with you. “i’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight.” you could feel the way your face dropped in disappointment as you registered what he said. he saw it too and felt it deep in his chest.

he stood up and was about to say goodnight but you beat him to it, “azriel please i need you.”

you could feel how desperate you sounded but you didn’t care. you just needed him. next to you right now. he said nothing else as he moved the blankets again, but this time he was under them. he didn’t hesitate to pull you into his chest, your hand found it’s way over his fast beating heart and his tattooed arm wrapping around you. the warmth and scent of him took over everything in your body. you finally felt safe. your legs tangled together as you eventually fell asleep to the rise and fall of his chest.

“i need you too.” he said to a room with no one awake but him to hear.

part 2??? i would love to write one! let me know what you think! i’d love to keep writing for acotor so yay! pls enjoy :) i’m on the edge of my seat writing this hehe

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel smut #azriel fic #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel spymaster #azriel series #azriel supremacy #batboys #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight

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free-for-all-fics · 9 days ago

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So I binge watched Squid Game season 2 a couple days ago and the brainrot is back in full force for The Recruiter and The Front Man. So here’s some more Squid Game prompts! Warning: These prompts are centered around Season 2 and contain spoilers! Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of these and I’d love to read it! 🔴🔺🟥

1. You knew The Recruiter when he was younger, back before he worked in the games and was removing and burning up the bodies of countless people. He was like the game players and homeless people at one point in his life, having hit rock bottom. His actions in the park are an expression of self-hatred and an attempt to set himself apart from them. The Recruiter has nothing but contempt to people who choose the lottery and is more than happy to stomp the bread just to spite them, but he happens to at least approve the people who pick the bread.

“These things aren’t human. They’re just trash, uterrly useless in this world.” He kept telling himself that and worked hard for a few years. Then they gave him a gun. It felt pretty good. Like his existence was acknowledged for the first time in his life. He doesn’t know which year it was but one day he was about to shoot a man who had lost a game. The guy seemed familiar. His dad. His dad was suddenly standing right in front of him. He was in tears, desperately begging him to spare his life. He shot him right in the middle of his forehead, and realized, “Ah. I’m cut out for this job.”

He had absolutely no qualms about shooting his own father dead. He even admits that when he killed his father in the games, he realized he was totally the type for his job, mentioning no remorse or guilt. But what if him shooting his own father proved his loyalty to the people he worked for and so they rewarded him by making him a recruiter and letting him keep you, the love of his life or object of obsession from his past life in the outside world. Asking the Host and his higher ups for a companion is just one thing, but it’s a big thing, and he’s scared to death that he will never see you again once he asks. Most of the staff are ruthless killers motivated by profit, but out of all of them, The Recruiter is one of the few who seems genuinely psychopathic, his businesslike attitude masking a vicious sadist who revels in humiliation, torture, and murder.

Still, it’s nothing short of a miracle in his mind that he’s allowed to have you. You’re just living your life, but then you get kidnapped and brought to an undisclosed location and while the room you’re in is admittedly very nice, you’re terrified. Turns out your kidnapper is your childhood best friend or college sweetheart who you lost touch with years ago when he went into the games. To you, he ghosted you or went missing and you were never able to find him. His own family hadn’t heard from him and didn’t know where he was. He’d go so far to keep you that he’d fake your death. He spoils you rotten but he also punishes you if you misbehave or act out of line. Treats you like a princess, fucks you like a whore kind of thing. He doesn’t keep around those dog bone shaped gags and possibly even sex toys or buy you nice lingerie and jewelry for nothing. He doesn’t want to break you as you’re his favorite toy, but he’ll do what it takes to properly train you until you learn to accept your place as his lover. His amiable facade comes down and it turns out he's psychotic and it frightens you but a part of him gets off on your fear. You see yourself as a prisoner, but he insists it doesn’t have to be that way if you just relax and love him back and be a good girl. You loved him once, didn’t you? You were his only friend. The only woman he’s ever loved. How hard can it possibly be to love him again? He’s the only one who can protect you and love you now. Everyone else thinks you’re dead.

He’d go so far as to kill anyone who stands in his way of having you, even your significant other if you have one or your family and friends. The Recruiter absolutely enjoys what he does to his victims, especially during the Russian Roulette game. You have no one else to turn to for comfort or conversation besides him. A part of him hates it when you cry but the other part of him is turned on by your tears and the fear in your eyes. He doesn’t have a god complex, more like a death complex. He’s given himself over completely to his philosophy of death. He believes he’s Death incarnated into a man with how people’s lives are in his hands, and that includes yours. And aren’t there so many famous artworks of Death and His Maiden? Why shouldn’t he be able to keep you as his?

If he was your first ever sexual partner, he’d make for damn sure he’s the only one through silently and stealthily arranging for your other potential partners to die in tragic “accidents” or go missing with their bodies never found. Just like he’s dedicated himself to the games, he’s dedicated himself to proving he’s worthy of you everyday by protecting you and giving you everything you ask for - except real freedom, of course. He can only give you semblances of freedom by allowing you outside under heavy guard watch or his watch. You can’t go anywhere alone anymore. You can’t have a cell phone that connects to the internet (or if you are allowed the internet, you’re only given access to certain websites while the rest are blocked) or any phone numbers except his. He’s practically isolated you.

2. Going off the idea of what if you knew The Recruiter back when he was younger and working in the games: Alongside him, you’re also a pink guard. You’re one of, if not the only female guard. The Recruiter is the first to find out that you’re a woman despite the mask covering your face, the voice modulator, and the suit covering your body. You spend a lot of time together when you have to shoot the eliminated players and then remove and burn the bodies. You use a separate channel on your walkie-talkies to have private conversations while you’re on a job during the games or to talk from your separate dorms after the day’s work is done. When other male guards try to attack or sexually assault you in your room for getting in the way of their illegal organ harvesting side hustle due to you shooting the bodies in the heart or head to ensure the players die quickly and make the organs unusable, he comes to your rescue when he hears the struggle over the walkie when you manage to press the button. He practically breaks your door down and takes the guards out with his bare hands or a random object in your room. He’s so strong and skilled he doesn’t even need to use a gun or a knife (in the show he subdued two men just with his briefcase). You watch as he subdues both guards, knocking them out with ease. He would’ve loved to kill them in that moment, but he doesn’t have the right to do that. He can only report the incident to the Captain/In-Ho. Pink guards cannot kill other pink guards. They’re only permitted to kill players. Only the Captain can kill pink guards.

After interrogating them and reviewing the security footage, In-ho kills the guards who attacked you and puts an end to the organ harvesting for that year by killing all of the guards operating it. Whether they sell off organs from the dead or devour them, he doesn’t give a damn. However, the most crucial element of this place is equality. Everyone is equal in these games, including guards. Players compete in a fair game under the same conditions. Guards work under the same conditions. They are to follow the instructions they are given. There is a principle to these games. And those guards that attacked you for being a woman and doing your job and the guards operating the organ harvesting side hustle broke that principle.

Later, after work is done for the day and guards are ordered to return to their rooms, The Recruiter sneaks into yours so that the two of you can have sex. When he saw you getting attacked, he wanted more than anything to rush to your side and comfort you and hold your hand and ride his adrenaline-filled high by having sex with you after subduing the guards, but duty called so he couldn’t. When In-ho is overlooking the security cameras and notices The Recruiter in your room instead of his own with both of your masks off, locked in a heavy make out session while he has you lifted in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangling in and pulling his hair while his hands cup under your thighs to hold you up against the wall, your pink jumpsuits half way unzipped, he changes the cameras to play back earlier footage of both you and him so that it looks like you’re alone in your rooms so his higher ups won’t suspect anything while you inevitably do whatever it is you want to do. The Recruiter and you have proven your loyalty. You both deserve a reward. As long as you’re both back in your own rooms by morning call, he doesn’t care.

After that, The Recruiter shoots his own father dead after he fails a game. You and he work your way up to becoming the recruiters you are now, possibly even posing as a friendly married couple to get vulnerable people to trust you more (even better if you’re actually married as it makes the ruse more convincing). You do love each other in your own way, but you also are well aware that love makes people incredibly easy to manipulate and you use that to your advantage in your line of work. Together you prey on people who are hanging by a thread and are the best performing recruiters the games have ever had. In the privacy of your home, you listen to opera music, share drinks, and get down to all kinds of kinky shit when you find yourselves in the mood. You take turns when it comes to who’s dominant and who’s submissive, and your sex games often include bondage, roleplay, pain, and blood. And sometimes the blood isn’t even yours or his. When people get nosy for their too damn good, you and/or he have to take care of that.

3. Underneath the smiling facade, The Recruiter is little more than a small fry. When Gi-hun repeatedly calls him a lapdog and considers him nothing compared to whoever he works for, it gets under his skin, although he doesn't have a complete breakdown over it. Getting reminded of this repeatedly is part of why The Recruiter eventually shoots himself in the chin. But let’s pretend The Recruiter doesn’t commit suicide. Instead of being strictly dominant or strictly submissive, this man is a switch. While he loves to be in control sometimes and use your body however he wants, there’s also times when it’s you who’s the dominant one. You dress up and behave as a dominatrix while you put a mask over his face to blindfold him, gag him with the bone shaped gags and tie him up, doing to him whatever you want and calling him your dog. Your good boy. He runs, barks, wags his tail, does whatever you, his mistress, says and you reward him with praise, treats, etc. You do the same thing when it’s his turn to be the master and for you to be his good girl, his bitch. This man would probably be into puppy play whether it’s you who’s the puppy or him. And yeah that would probably include either of you being locked in a human sized cage or an actual dog kennel as punishment for whenever you misbehave. You’d take turns between who’s holding the leash and who’s on it on all fours, etc. The sex acts you do together, this dominatrix and roleplay arrangement you have, it’s like therapy for him in a way. A way for him to reclaim being called a dog when he was young and poor and turning it into something good. Even if it’s dehumanizing at times. The humiliation and the sadism is part of what turns you both on. Of course you’d have a safe word, aftercare, and all of that. But let’s be real: He’s just as skilled as you are at taking orders, deepthroating objects, and being penetrated.

4. Inspired by the film “The Odds”: You join an underground game of pain endurance, hoping to win the cash prize of one billion won. But it’s not the traditional squid games where you’re competing with other players in person. This is something different. This is the squid games before the squid games became what it is today. Instead, you’re isolated in a windowless room with little more than a table, a couple of chairs, a cot to sleep in and a toilet to shit in. It’s like a prison almost. Whenever you’re given a shower, if ever, you’re heavily sedated so you don’t lash out against the workers bathing you. The Recruiter is one of many who are assigned to players to keep them company, explain the rules of each game, and oversee their progress. Each player has their own recruiter assigned to them and The Recruiter we’re familiar with in the show is the one assigned to you. You have nobody else but him to keep you company. You don’t ever see anyone, don’t ever hear anyone except for him. He looks awfully familiar and you have a strong feeling you’ve met him before, that you know him from somewhere. Throughout the course of the week that you’re there, you’re determined to figure out how you know him. In the meantime, you flirt with each other, playfully talk about getting married and having a house and kids when you get out.

But at some point during the course of the games, the playfulness erodes and The Recruiter turns dead serious, revealing that he’s so in love with you that it’s like an unhinged obsession. Maybe you choosing to come here was in actuality you being lured into a trap, all a part of his elaborate plan to finally get you right where he wants you to fulfill his sick and twisted romantic and sexual fantasies. Maybe before that, he paid sex workers and strangers who looked like you to sleep with him, just to keep him satiated so he wouldn’t snap and kidnap you before the time was right. He might’ve gone so far as to call them by your name and become really scary real fast if they tried to correct him. The things he did to those women might’ve been so bad that they were unspeakable. But he paid good hush money to keep them quiet. And if that didn’t work, a bullet always did. But sleeping with all those women could never live up to the real thing. Nobody watching you now would be able to hear you nor would they care if he had sex with you in between games. He’s done it before with desperate female players who wanted to stay alive a little longer. And if they performed sexual favors for him as he asked - more like ordered them to do - Who is he to deny pretty women an extra five minutes of being allowed to breathe before he pulls the trigger? A deal is a deal and he’s a businessman.

He’s a man of do the wrong thing, yield rewards. To him, he’d feel like he’s entitled to your love and your body after all he went through in his life to get to this point. He’s worked his way up from a nobody who just disposed of and burned bodies, then they gave him a gun, then he became a recruiter. One of the best if not the best in the company. He’d kill for you. Even if you don’t ask him to. Even if you plead with him not to do anything and let it go. But he’s also so unhinged he might even hurt or kill you if you fail to live up to his deluded fantasies. If he does hurt you, he’d do the classic, “Look what you made me do! I didn’t want to have to do that. I didn’t want to hurt you but you gave me no choice so this is all your fault and not mine,” shtick.

You soon discover the game's rigged, and your real opponent is The Recruiter - a sadistic psychopath, who works for the Host and the organizers of the game and knows everything about you. He knows why you’re here and about your child, bringing them up to keep you motivated to continue before you ever mention them to him. He’s just one of many of a network of people ranging from VIPs to guards who are part of this game. The way you see it, you have three choices: Provoke The Recruiter into killing you if you don’t die from the games before then, give into The Recruiter’s sexual advances to survive without playing all of the games and join him, becoming his lover/wife and possibly a Recruiter yourself, or survive through all of the games and kill The Recruiter. He keeps saying you can leave at any point but you realize over time that this is a lie and if you try to leave, you’ll be shot dead either by him or one of the guards.

(Below is some dialogue from the movie with some minor changes to showcase how Recruiter coded this scenario is.)

“So, yes, it is necessary to keep the location a secret due to the legal technicalities of the game. You know the rules, right?”

“Yup, but you can tell me again, Mr...”

“No names. It works better for me if we keep things less personal, you know?”

“Right. Kind of like a manager-employee relationship. I get it.”

“If you like. Anyway, the game, there are 19 other players at 19 other locations just like this.”

“In this city?”

“All over the country. There's a clearing house that receives and broadcasts the signal to select clientele. The same clearing house acts as a broker for all wages concerning the game.” He puts in his earpiece and presses a button. “Receiving end, online? Okay. Yeah, just a couple minutes, we'll get started.” He sits across from you at the table.

“Have you done this a lot?”

“A few times, yeah. There are five preliminary rounds followed by the finalist round. If you leave at any point during the preliminary rounds, you will leave with zero prize money.”

“I won't quit.”

“All players who get to the finalist round are committed to the game and may not leave.”

“I said I won't quit.”

“Okay. Now, the finalists will continue to play until there's only one player left. That winner will receive the money.”

“Have you ever hosted a winner?”

“Let's not worry about that. You just stay focused.”

“It's weird that people would bet on something like this.”

“Do you know any real gamblers? Real gamblers will make odds on anything.”

“And the prize money, it's a lot?”

“Some people think so.”

“I heard it was a billion won.”

“Where'd you hear that?”

“Same place I heard about the game.”

“Hm. That's correct, and the funds will be deposited in the winner's account.”

“They must pay you a lot. That's why you're here, right?”

“I'm here for the same reason as you.”

“I doubt that.”

“Now it's almost time.” He takes a candle out of his briefcase and sets it on the table.

“I thought there was gonna be a gun.”

“Not yet.”

“Have I met you before?”

He listens to his device. “Congratulations, your drug test came back clean.”

“Of course it did.”

“I'm sorry, we have to check. Some players come in high, performance enhancing drugs, so to speak.”

“Well, drugs are where you go when you can't stand the pain anymore.”

“Where do you go, if you don't have drugs?”

“I guess we'll find out.”

He listens to his device. “Hm. Yes? We're good. You're good? Okay, standing by.”

“I know that they can see us, but can they...”

“Hear us? No. Say what you want. Your secrets are safe with me.”

“I don't have any secrets.”

“Everyone has secrets.”

“No, all my shit's pretty much out in the open.”

“All the shit you know about.”

“I think I know my shit pretty well.”

“This game has a way of illuminating a person.” He lights the candle.

“Oh, that's nice. You gonna put on some mood music? I'll take the Chardonnay.”

“So here's what's gonna happen, round one, on my signal, you, along with 19 other players, will hold your hand over the candle and keep it there. When three people have removed their hand, the round is over. Those players are out of the game. Everyone else will advance to the next round. Understand? Hello?”

“Yeah, I just... I heard it was different.”

“Used to be. They like to change things up, keep it exciting. You don't have to do this. It's still not too late to leave.”

“I've got nowhere else to be.”

“How about a home?”

“I messed that up.”

“You must have family somewhere. Everyone has family.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Kids?”

“No.”

“But if you did, how would you feel if someone took him or her away from you?”

“I guess I wouldn't like it.”

“And how would you feel knowing that he or she should've been taken away from you...that she...he, was better off...and that maybe now the only thing to do is to win a big pile of money so that he or she could have the kind of life that he or she deserves?”

“Hm. I don't think I'd ever risk my life over a pile of money.”

“Well, that's all mine's good for at this point.”

“Hey, listen. Look at me. We're in this together, you and me. I'm rooting for you, you understand? So just settle in. We'll do this. Word of advice, this is as much a mental game as anything else, so just keep that in mind if you really want to see this through to the end.”

“I'm gonna hear the words ‘you win’, or I'm not gonna hear anything at all.”

“That's it. Visualize success, that's good.”

“You say that to all your players?”

“Just the ones that seem to need it.”

“Have you ever played, from my side?”

“Let's get through round one, then we'll talk. We're about to begin. Last chance before the pain starts.”

“The pain started a long time ago.”

Round One

You hold your hand over the candle, while The Recruiter encourages you the whole time.

“That's it. Keep going. You can do this. Come on. Just breathe. Focus on breathing. You can do this. Come on. Just breathe. Okay, focus on breathing. Focus on breathing. Another player's out. Just one more player. Just one more player has to quit. Number three's out! You made it. You did it. Let me see. Come on.” He takes out a first aid kit from his briefcase and treats your wound. “So, we made a deal, and no, I haven't played the game from your side of the table.”

“How many?”

“How many what?”

“How many times have you done this?”

“14.”

“And how many of those players won?”

“You don't want to know.” A long pause before he finally answers, “None of them. Most players quit before the final round.”

“But some of them made it.”

“I've seen two men and three women blow their brains out.”

“You're just a little bad luck charm, aren't you? Did you ask the other players why they did it?”

“Same reason as you, the money.”

“Same reason as everyone I'm playing against now?”

“I wouldn't worry about the other players.”

“I just want to know who my competition is.”

“Most games, you're competing against someone, right? But in this game, you can't affect the other players. Can they make you leave this room? Who can?”

“You could try.”

“Okay, take me out. Who does that leave? That's right, you. And that's what they're betting on, how much you can take.”

“I'll take whatever you throw at me.”

“It won't be me throwing it at you.”

“So there is someone else here.”

“I'm a facilitator. The challenges for each round, they've been chosen by the organizers.”

“So it's not you. You're just doing their dirty work for them.”

“I didn't make you come here. I didn't make you sit there. I didn't force you to put your hand over a candle. You think I enjoy watching you do this? You think I like watching people hurt themselves? Man. Things I've seen, you don't forget it, you know?”

“Then why do you keep doing it?”

“You've never done something you knew wasn't good for you? Sit down. We're on the same side. That's the thing about this game, it...” He’s interrupted by information coming through his earpiece. “Round two, ready.”

“The thing about this game?”

“What?”

“You were just about to say ‘the thing about this game.’”

“The thing about this game is that it changes you.”

“Good?”

“I don't know how good it's been for me.”

“Maybe you've been playing from the wrong side of the table. Are you sure we haven't met before?”

“It's time.”

Round Two

“Round two. Players will put their bare right foot inside the box. The three that remove their feet lose. The rest move onto the next round.”

“And there's something in the box?”

“Yes.”

“And you don't know what it is?”

“No.”

Something from inside the box moves and makes a noise, causing you to jump.

“Hey, hey. It's okay.”

“What's in there?”

“I don't know.”

“That's bullshit.”

“They don't tell us.”

“You said that you have done this before.”

“It's different every time. It's probably not as bad as you think.”

“Fuck it, I'm out of here.”

“Now wait. What about your child?”

“Why do you care? You get paid anyway, I assume.”

He removes his ear piece so the organizers won’t hear what he says to you next. “Are you afraid of rats?”

“What?”

“Are you afraid of rats?” He puts his earpiece back in. “You need to decide, soon. One player just dropped out. That just leaves two for elimination.”

“This is insane.” You remove your shoe and sock. “So it's just in there waiting for me to put my foot in?”

“There's a separation barrier. When I get the signal, I remove it.”

“How fun for you.”

“I'm right here with you.”

“That's a comfort.”

“No, I mean it, okay? I'll help you.”

“You better.”

“It's almost time.”

“I must be crazy.”

You put your foot in the box.

“You got this.”

“I got this.”

“I mean, nothing's gonna happen. Oh, god, it's moving. It keeps moving.”

“Breathe. Mm-hm.”

“It's touching me, it's touching me. It's on me. It's off, it's off, it's off. Oh, fuck!”

“Think something else, okay? Don't think about this.”

“Oh, God, ow, ow, ow! It's back on me.”

“Think of something else. Okay, think of something else, don't think about this.”

“Oh, shit. I can't do this.”

“You can, yes, you can.”

“Ow, it's biting me! It's biting me.”

“No, it's not... One player's out, okay? That just leaves one more left.”

“Ow! Ow, it's eating me!”

“Look at me, look at me! I'm right here with you. Do it for me. Say it. Say it!”

“Do it for you. Do it for you.”

“Good. Again.”

“Do it for you.”

“Good. Again.”

“Do it for you. Do it for you. Do it for you. Do it for you. Do it for you. Do it for you. Do it for you.”

“That's it! It's over. It's over.”

You remove your bleeding foot from the box and cry in The Recruiter’s arms as he holds you.

He’s wrapping your foot with fresh white gauze. “Don't look. Okay.” He kisses your bandaged foot. “I kissed your boo-boo.”

You have some time to kill while you and he wait for the next game. He gives you a bottle of water. You need to stay hydrated. Lots of water.

“Gonna figure out where I know you from.”

“Well, good luck. Okay, let's say you don't quit.”

“I won't.”

“Right, you won't. Let's say you make it. You've already told me what you're gonna do for your child. What are you gonna do for you? If you really think you're gonna make it through, you should have a plan.”

“Yeah, well, I'm not really big on plans.”

“No, seriously, instead of giving your child the money, why don't you take them somewhere instead? Find a nice quiet place, bring along their daddy.”

“You had me going till you mentioned that asshole.”

“Okay, not him, a nice guy.”

“Why is it that everyone thinks that if a woman has problems, a man is somehow the answer?”

“You don't believe in love?”

“Maybe some people just aren't meant for it. Maybe they're just not built...for it.”

“Maybe some people haven't met the right guy.”

“And that's you? From bad luck charm to Mr. Right?”

“You could do worse.”

“Okay. All right. So say it is you, Prince Charming, man of my dreams, we're living together.”

“Mm-hm, married.”

“Really?”

“I don't do that cohabitation shit. You either commit or you get out.”

“And that's you? Mr. Commitment?”

“Damn straight.”

“So, is this a proposal?”

“I guess it is.”

“Well, either it is or it isn't.”

“It is.”

“Sweep me up my feet, why don't you?”

“You don't find this place romantic? So, we're in our home...”

“I didn't say yes.”

“You playing hard to get?”

“No. Yes. Maybe. A little. I mean, come on, we just started dating. How do I know you're not just marrying me for my money?”

“What if I don't need your money? What if I already have money?”

“Great, then let's get outta here. I don't have to do this anymore.”

“Well, then again, maybe I don't have that much money.”

“Okay, so, no money. Why should I say yes?”

“Because, deep down inside, you believe in love too. So, what's it gonna be?”

“How about we get through the next round, then I'll tell you.”

“You are playing hard to get. Ready for round three.”

Round Three

“What the fuck is it? Or should I ask what goes in it?”

“Your other foot. We go till three players drop out. You can do this.”

“Have you ever done this one before?”

“No. This is new territory for me. They're telling me we need to get ready.”

“Should I sit or stand?”

“Whatever you prefer. We're ready.”

“I don't suppose anybody's dropped out yet. Just wait.”

“Okay. Round three, turn one. I'm sorry.”

“That feels as bad as it looks.”

“All players are still in. Second turn. Hey, hey, hey, hey. Do it for me, remember?”

“Wait, wait for me. Wait.”

“Turn number three.”

You pass out from the pain. You wake up to his voice.

“Player three has quit.”

He wraps up your other foot. “There. All better.”

“You’re pretty good at that.”

“One of my many talents.”

“Nine players are out by my count.”

“You're knocking them down. So...what about the answer now?”

“The answer to what?”

“Are we gonna do it, when all this is over? Are we gonna tie the knot?”

“Sure.”

“Well, then. Well, then how about a kiss for your fiancé?”

He kisses you. While he does, he slips a pill into your hand. “It's for the pain. Don't let them see,” he whispers into your ear. “Well, passed the halfway point.”

“Yeah, after this, marriage should be easy.”

“Yeah. Maybe every couple should go through something like this.”

“It's a great story to tell the grandkids.”

“Grandkids? We haven't even gone on the honeymoon.”

“Please, honeymoon.”

“Why not? Must be somewhere you want to go. Vegas, Paris, Costa Rica?”

“Not really.”

“Come on, nothing? Nothing interests you? And afterwards, when we get back to our apartment in the city...”

“In our house in the country.”

“Country's boring.”

“Can't have horses in the city.”

“Horses? More than one?”

“You can't have just one horse.”

“I'm not shoveling horse shit.”

“Fine, I want a divorce.”

“On what grounds?”

“Irreconcilable differences.”

“Okay, fine. A house in the country with horses.”

“Wow, what a pushover.”

“What can I say? I'm in love.”

You lay down on the ground with him, side by side, staring up at the ceiling.

His hands are behind his head. “You know, you can rest in that house in the woods.”

“Then I'd sleep for a week.”

“And after you wake up?”

“I don't know, maybe plant a garden.”

“What do you know about gardens?”

“As much as I know about anything else, I guess.”

“You think you could keep a bunch of plants alive?”

“What about you, mister? You're just gonna live off my money?”

He sits up. “There's lots of stuff I can do.” He gets up off the ground.

“I didn't mean anything by it.”

“I know what you meant.”

“Come on, I was just joking.”

“Sounded like an insult.”

“Why would I insult you? You're the only friend that I have.”

“That's true. Standing by.”

“God, can't they just give it a minute?”

“I know, like, what are they in a hurry for? They'll make their money.”

“Have you met them, the people running this?”

“A couple. They're not like what you think.”

“I think they're a bunch of weirdos who get off watching sick shit.”

“That's not it, at all. They're more like researchers of human behavior, and this is the ultimate laboratory.”

“Come on.”

“No, seriously, how do you think they have the money to fund an operation like this? They get to bet on human behavior every day, and win. Of course they'd be interested in a game like this.”

“We're just pawns to them. I doubt they even see us as people at all.”

“But it doesn't really matter what they think though, does it? And anyway, you should be grateful they've even given you this opportunity. If you weren't here, where would you be?” He sits on the table and slides his body over to you. “On the street, in a crack house sucking dick for a fix until your looks rot away and your teeth fall out? Where would your child be? In a group home getting daily beat downs from all the other toss aways with fuck-ups for parents. You know, you should be thanking the people who created this game, and you should be thanking me. This is the best opportunity for someone who screwed up all their other options.”

“Well, I'll be sure to send them thank you notes later.”

He suddenly smiles. “Look at that, our first fight. Come on, I was just playing. Let's get back to our house.”

“Maybe later.”

“Time’s up.”

Round Four

“How long can you hold your breath? It's a simple question, really. How long can you hold your breath?”

“I don't know.”

“Round four is easy. You just have to hold your breath.”

“I just have to hold my breath?”

“Yeah, well, that is while I'm holding your head underwater. You don't have a fear of drowning, do you? Hydrophobia, I think it's called. 'Cause if you did, this will be pretty tough.” He takes a bullet out of his pocket. “Bite on this. I'm kidding, just hold onto it. Jeez. Here's what's gonna happen, you're gonna face the tank, and when the time comes, I'm gonna hold your head under the water. You... You hold your arm out. If you want me to let you up, you just let go of the bullet. See? First three players to let go are out. Everyone else stays. You trust me, right? Well, you should, we're married.”

“I guess.”

“You guess? What do you mean you guess? You wouldn't marry somebody you don't trust, would you? Good. You know, it's good that you trust me 'cause that way you know that when it's time when everyone drops out, I won't just keep your head under the water. Oh. Looks like we have someone afraid of drowning. Our first dropout. You're not gonna drop out, right?”

“Right.”

“Because you want that house in the country, and you trust me, right?”

“Right.”

“Say it.”

“I trust you.”

“And you love me. Say it.”

“I love you.”

“Oh.” He tucks your hair behind your ear. “Whoops. Looks like we got another dropout. Okay, we got to get this thing going before we lose any more. Deep breaths. When the third player quits, I'll let you up. Get ready. On the count of three. One. Two. Three.”

While your head is underwater, you dissociate and experience flashbacks of your life before this, of your child. “I love you.” You hear their voice say. That’s the last thing you see before The Recruiter pulls you back up as you cough and move your wet hair out of your face.

“I thought you were gone! Jesus, why didn't you let go of the bullet?”

“I swallowed it. Only way to make sure that I didn't drop it.”

The Recruiter gives you a towel, admittedly impressed.

“You know, with a little effort you could be a very attractive woman.”

“What am I supposed to say to that?”

“Well, when someone compliments you, it's polite to thank 'em.”

“Thank you.”

“How many guys have you dated?”

“How's that any of your business?”

“Well, if we're gonna be married, it's something a husband should know. Come on.”

“Come on, what?”

“How many?”

“I don't know.”

“That many?”

“Do you want to know how many I've dated, or how many I've fucked? Because I didn't keep count, but it was a lot. And sometimes I didn't even know their names.”

“Now why do I get the feeling that you're saying this just to hurt me?”

“You're sick in the head.”

“I bet you were a real looker. I bet the boys couldn't keep their hands off you. Hey, how old were you when you did it the first time? Sweet 16, 15? Yeah. You were an early bloomer.” He cups your breast and you instinctively slap him. He slaps you back, harder. “I'm sorry, but you should not have made me do that.”

“You know, you can't do whatever the fuck you want.”

“Come on, don't be like that. Let's get back to how it was before. And, you know, to tell you the truth, I've been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“You can't do whatever it is that you want.”

“Who are you kidding? Like you didn't want me to.”

“What?”

“Look, if you didn't want me to do that, why are you still here? You could've left at any time.”

“I’m here for the game, that's all.”

“Maybe this is part of it. You ever think about that?”

“No.”

“No? Well, of course it is. Why else would you be here?”

“For my child.”

“No!” He slams his hand on the table. “Don't give me that shit. No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We alone walk the path. The Buddha said that. He was a smart guy, everyone says so. You put yourself here. You decided to stay 'cause you know that we belong together.”

“I didn't ask for any of this.”

“Why else are you here? Look, you could've gone any time. There's the door. It's always been there. Go on. Go on if this is so wrong. Nobody's stopping you. You won't go, because you know you belong here. You deserve this. Your whole life has been a long, long path that's led you to me.” He grabs your face and forcefully kisses you while you sob. At that moment, a guard walks in with a long bag containing something for the next game, causing him to move away and break the kiss. “We're on a schedule. You might want to reconsider. This might be your last chance.”

“For what?”

“To make love as a whole person. Round five. Here's where you really start to leave some skin in the game, so to speak.” He opens the bag, revealing a red hot branding iron. “It's not that bad, really. The Yakuza, you know the Yakuza, right? Japanese mafia, they do this kind of thing all the time. When they've screwed up, they remove body parts. It’s how they apologize for... Oh, forget it. Just take my word for it, you're not the first, you won't be the last, unless you want to leave. You go through with this, you won't be the same. Some cultures would consider you heavily scarred. Personally, I think you'll be plenty serviceable, but, you know.... If you're afraid of the pain, I can give you another Oxy.”

You take the Oxy that he gave you out of your pocket and set it on the table. He quickly swipes it off the table and puts it in pocket so the organizers don’t see.

“Jesus! Suit yourself. After this round, you'll probably be a freak, probably have a limp, from your legs being burned so much. Who will want to fuck you then?”

“I’m sure as long as I have all my lady parts, any sick fuck like you will.”

He pulls out protective gloves from the bag and puts them on. He takes hold of the branding rod.

“We're ready. Scoot your chair forward and remove your pants.”

You do as instructed, not letting yourself feel embarrassed for being sat half naked in front of him.

Round Five

Your ears ring from all the pain you’ve suffered so far. The skin on your thighs is burning still, your once flawless skin now marred with dark patches. Luckily the brand isn’t engraved with anything, but you know The Recruiter still gets a sick joy out of branding you. Like he thinks doing so means he owns you. Still, The Recruiter admits to you that he’s impressed with how many burns you’ve been able to endure so far. Some turns he held the branding iron to your skin longer than others, making the coloration in your skin vary. As the rounds progressed, you moved up from your thighs to one of your arms.

“Well, it's about time now. Turn seven. After this, your wrist will hurt so bad you won't be able to pull the trigger with your left hand. That career in trick shooting, it's out. Go on, get ready. You know, think about it, you don't really use your left arm much anyway. It's a right-handed world, you know?”

You’re whimpering and sobbing from the pain. Despite how difficult it is, you get up from your chair and walk away. You stand in front of the door.

“You're about to lose. You go through that door, all of this would've been for nothing. Is that what you want?”

You knock on the door.

“Wait! Three players have all just dropped out. You made it. Don't do it.”

“I have to pee.”

A masked guard opens the door and escorts you to the bathroom. He’s standing there the whole time, watching you impassively while you wash your hands and have an emotional breakdown in the corner. You stare at yourself in the mirror and gradually calm down, your resolve hardening as you think about your child. You hold a middle finger up in the mirror and pretend you’re giving it to The Recruiter.

When you make it back to the room, The Recruiter is sat in a chair, holding your discarded underwear in his hand. At some point during the game, it was too painful to wear them when the fabric brushed against the burns on your upper thighs.

“You mind? I thought I'd hold onto these. You know, something to remind me of our time together. What? Like you're not gonna use 'em. I’ll buy you much nicer lingerie to wear for me when this is over.” He tucks your underwear into his inner suit jacket pocket. “Well, sit if you're gonna. You know, I'll tell you something. I knew from the moment I saw you that you'd go the distance.”

“Is that right?”

“Mm-hm. Damaged people are tough. Fire, temper, steel, and all that.”

“You could tell I was damaged, huh.”

“Honey, you shone like a lighthouse. I wish I could've bet on you.” He gestures to the revolver on the table in between you. “Ever use one of those before? Don't worry, they're pretty user-friendly. You just point and click. If you don't hear the click, you're already dead.”

“Have you been a dick to all the players you've done this with, or am I just special?”

“I mean, they're all special, really, but if it makes you feel any better, you're my favorite.” He winks at you.

It’s finally clicked for you who The Recruiter is. “I knew I'd met you before.”

“No. I’d remember you.”

“I've known you my whole life. See, I watched you get drunk and smash my older sister’s head into the front door when you were dating her. I dropped out of high school when you got jealous of my friends because you thought I was sleeping with them. I lied for you every time the neighbors called the cops because of the noise. I know you, very well.”

“You know, now that you mention it, you do look familiar. You look like every smartass bitch I've ever known. All the teachers who thought they were so clever, thought that they could just push around a kid. All the bitches in school who thought they could just lead a guy on, tease him. Those women at the jobs where they just wiggle their tits and their ass to get ahead of some poor son of a bitch who does the real work, who carries his load and hers too. You look like every stupid cunt who thinks the world should bow down and worship her because she was born with a pussy made of solid gold.”

“Nice. You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“I don't know what happened. You know, we started out so good. How did we end up like this?”

“I guess it was fate.”

“You think?”

“I think...I think…you know what I think?”

“Tell me.”

“I think that you found the perfect job to indulge in your sick fucked up fantasies.”

He slaps you, causing you to fall out of your chair and back up against the wall.

“You're right.” He slaps you again. “I can do anything I want to right now. You know what's funny? That's what you want me to do. You screwed your life up so bad, you'll take any punishment I dish out ‘cause you know you deserve it.”

“Don't touch me again.”

“I'm not finished.”

“You asshole. You have sat there and watched me do everything that I've done and you think that you can hurt me?!” You slap yourself.

“Oh, that's cute.”

You slap yourself again.

“Stop it.”

You slap yourself again and again and again and again and again. “You fucker. You wouldn't have the guts to do what I've done.”

Angry, he slams the camera face down on the table so the people watching can’t see as he grabs the gun off the table and wraps his arm around your neck, holding you in place and cutting off your oxygen. “You think you're some kind of hard bitch now?! Is this what you want, hard bitch?! You want to play?! Let's play.” He presses the gun to your head and pulls the trigger three times, all blanks as the gun clicks.

“What? What?!”

“You…don't…scare me.” You choke out.

He lets you go, slams the gun back on the table, and puts the camera back up. “That round’s a freebie.” He sits back down and combs his hands through his hair. “If you're gonna stay... It's time.”

You pull the chair back up off the floor and sit back down. “Just out of curiosity, later, if I decide to quit, what's gonna stop me?”

“You take that chair. If you try to leave the game, either me or my compatriots will shoot you dead.”

You sit down and scoot your chair up towards the table, getting ready.

Final Round

“There are five players in the final round. This will consist of as many turns as necessary to eliminate four players. All players will pull the trigger simultaneously.” He puts the bullet into the chamber and spins it, then places the revolver back on the table. “Wait for my signal. Take the position, please.”

You put the gun to your head.

“We're ready.”

He nods at you.

You pull the trigger. Blank.

“Thought you'd be disappointed.”

He laughs. “No. I'm glad you make it through the first round. I hope you last a long time. I want to see you break. That'll be fun, to watch you break down completely before you die.” He removes the bullet from the chamber and sets the gun aside. “Just waiting on the report. And one player has been eliminated. Down to you and three others. Relax. We'll give them a minute to place their bets. Is it everything you hoped for?”

“This is the easiest thing I've done all day.”

“Maybe so, but there's another asshole out there somewhere who went through everything you went through and now he's just a pile of meat, brain splattered everywhere. See, you think your pain buys you something, that you earn some kinda big cosmic karma where now you’ll get what you deserve. I got news for you, pain is just pain. It doesn't get you anything.”

“You're wrong.”

“We'll see, when it's your brains that are on the floor. Oh. Time for turn two. You know, if you die here...” he puts the bullet in the chamber and spins it. “…nobody will know. We'll just scoop up your body, throw it to an incinerator. It'll be like you never existed. Nobody will know you were ever here.”

“But I'll be dead, so I won't care.” You put the gun to your head and pull the trigger. Blank.

“Bang!” He yells, making you jump and drop the gun on the table as he laughs. “Oh. Oh, another one down. They're dropping like flies. The odds are catching up with you.”

“Yeah?”

“How many times you think you can beat this?”

“29.”

“That's a very specific number.”

“Well, it's as far as I ever got.”

“When?”

“When I practiced.”

“You practiced?”

“Oh, yeah. Bought a real gun, put an empty shell in the chamber, spun it around. It almost never came up, and I did it a lot.”

“What's the lowest number of times you went before it did come up?”

“3.”

“Hm. Well, just so happens we're coming up on turn number three.” He puts the bullet in the chamber and spins it.

“What part do you enjoy the most, watching all the pain, or this?”

“Darling, I like it all. Take your position, please.”

You take the gun from his hand and put it to your head. You pull the trigger. Blank. You slide the gun across the table at him so fast it nearly falls into his lap as he gasps.

“Why don't you take a turn?”

“Because I don't have to play.”

“That's a shame. I bet if you had to play, you'd see things a little differently.”

“Lucky for me, then, that I don't.”

“Lucky for you. So?”

“So, what?”

“What was the outcome of that round?”

“Oh. Nothing.”

“What?”

“No players were eliminated.” He tells you slowly, like you’re an idiot. “It happens, more often than you might think. Something wrong?”

“No.”

“Really? Because you look like every other dumb prick I've seen blow their brains out.”

“You ever see anybody win?”

“Not a one.”

“Then I'm due. See, it's kinda like the lottery, somebody's got to win.”

“Except when they don’t.”

“Every time you spin that cylinder, there are five chances out of six that that bullet won't come up.”

“That's true. Let's see if now is one of those times.” He puts the bullet in the chamber and spins it. “I think I got you on this one. No, seriously, I feel good about this. Go on. Do you feel it? This is it. Am I right? I think I have you. Come on, take the position. Yeah. This is the one. You ready to say goodbye? Say it. Say goodbye. Say it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Pull the fucking trigger.”

You pull the trigger. Blank.

“No players eliminated.”

“You think they're enjoying this as much as you are?”

“Maybe, probably more. You know, you last as long as you say you will, you're gonna make someone a lot of money.”

“And that's why they're doing this?”

“Sure, I told you, gamblers will bet on anything. This is the best game in town.”

“So they're putting money down on me right now?”

“Even as we speak, they're betting against you. Some are betting for you. They're betting to see how many rounds this will go on, whether we'll have a winner or not.”

“Whether what?”

“Sure, maybe one of these times, all the players are eliminated. It's possible.”

“But the odds of that happening...”

“Are 50/50, either it happens or it doesn't.”

“But that's not how odds work.”

“It's time.” He spins the chamber and sets the gun back on the table. “Pick it up.”

You hold the gun to your head and pull the trigger. Blank. You do it again. And again. And again. And again. You hold the gun to your head and pull the trigger 12 times. All blanks. You set the gun down again. The Recruiter takes the bullet out of the chamber and sets the gun off to the side.

“No players were eliminated. You know what I think? I think your child would be better off with no money and you dead than rich with a crazy bitch like you.”

“No.”

“No?”

“They need me. They need to know what love really is. They need to know what it looks like. They need someone to help them understand that they deserves it.”

“And that someone is you? You just figured this out?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Well, then this wasn't a total waste.”

“Guess not.”

“You know what I'm gonna do after this?”

“Drown a puppy?”

“I think I'll go find your child. That one got you, didn't it?”

“Tell me, how have you made it this far without someone killing you?”

“Just my luck, I guess. Oh. There's been a change of plans. Seems the longevity of the current players has made the people upstairs change the rules around.” He adds a second bullet. “Now what do your odds look like?”

“It's not fair.”

“All the other players have the exact same challenge.”

“No one said...”

“Said what? You didn't practice for this? I'll be sure to tell your kid you said hi.” He puts the two bullets in the chamber and spins it. “Pick it up. Come on. You know the drill.”

You hold the gun to your head and pull the trigger. Blank.

“How many are left?”

“How many what?”

“Players. Someone has to have been eliminated.”

“Oh, yeah, that. One player was eliminated...as far as you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, as far as you know, it's just you and one other player.”

“I don't understand.”

“Then let me explain it to you. All that you know about this game is what I've been telling you, right? So, what if I told you I've been making up these last couple of rounds? What if I told you you've already won? Kinda funny if you think about it. What if you're the only one playing the game?”

“That wouldn't work. How would you bet on that?”

“Maybe the bet's not about who wins the game. Maybe you're the bet and it's simply how many times you'll keep pulling that trigger until you lose. Think about it. How would you know?” He suddenly laughs. “I'm kidding, yeah, of course. One of the other players really was eliminated. That leaves you and one more. And it's that time again.”

“So there really is another player?”

“I was just joking. Jeez, you got to learn how to lighten up. If the player could take their position please?”

“There really is another player?”

“Yes,” he says, highly annoyed.

“Prove it.”

“Hold on a sec. Assume the position!” He orders you.

“Prove that there's another player.”

“That's not how this game works. You got to trust me.”

You put the gun to your head.

“Ready.”

After staring at The Recruiter for a long moment, you remove the gun from your head, an idea coming to you.

“Pull. The. Trigger.”

You stare at him.

“Do it!”

You put the gun to your head and pull the trigger. Blank.

“I've been instructed that if you fail to comply again, you forfeit the game.”

You laugh. “Forfeit?”

He pulls up his shirt, showing the other gun tucked in his pants. “Then I'm instructed to shoot you.”

“Your bosses, money is just their excuse for playing. They don't really care about winning. They just want to see blood.”

“Now you're catching on. And they don't care whose it is. Oh. And we're upping the ante again.”

He adds a bullet.

“You forgot to say whether a player was eliminated.”

“Did I? What if I told you there wasn't really a game? What if I told you this whole thing was just made up? What if I told you it's been you and me this whole time?” He asks as he loads the bullets into the chamber.

“You're a liar.”

“Well, I guess we'll find out.” He spins the chamber. “It's time. Position. Please. Mm-hm. You got it.”

You grab the gun but don’t put it to your head. “Let me ask you this. What if there is just one bet? What if it's a 50/50 one?”

“That wouldn't make any sense.” He taps his temple to signal you to sssume the position.

You put the gun to your head. You don’t pull the trigger. “You know what? I think I have already won.” You point the gun at him. “I think the bet now is simply who walks out of this room.”

“That's not how this game is played.”

“You said it yourself, real gamblers will make odds on anything.”

“What if I told you that gun doesn't have any bullets?”

“I watched you.”

“Dummies, blanks. The real bet was to see how long you'd play before you quit.”

“Liar.”

“Okay. Okay, you're right. It wasn't fair, so just put the gun down, and we'll talk about changing the rules.”

“You're gonna change the rules?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Guys like you don't get to make the rules.” You pull back the hammer and stand up. “Do you know what your mistake was? You thought that the show was all about me, but you forgot that there are two animals in this cage.” You notice him sliding his hand back towards his gun. “You won't get it out before I pull the trigger.”

“If that chamber's empty, I got you.”

“I thought they were blanks.”

“You don't have the guts.”

You shoot. Blank. He flips the table up and makes a run for the door, failing to notice his gun has fallen out of his pocket as you keep shooting at him, firing off three live shots and then nothing but gun clicks. The door slides open to reveal a guard. You grab The Recruiter’s discarded gun off the ground and shoot at the the guards, killing some of them. You then play dead behind the upturned table. They let their guard down and when they get close, you shoot them dead too. The Recruiter comes from behind and tackles you to the ground and tries to strangle you to death. But you manage to get the upper hand.

Even though he could, he’s too proud to beg for your help as he lays on the ground, convulsing, dying. He just stares at you as he chokes on his own blood until he dies with his eyes wide open. A smile still on his face.

You pull his earpiece out of his ear and put it in your own, listening for the person on the other end to say something. And then you hear those two words:

“You win.”

5. What if The Recruiter faked his death like how Oh Il-nam did in season 1? He died with his eyes wide open and none of the other characters checked his pulse. This man is so unhinged and was always five steps ahead of the other characters, always knowing they were watching him and looking for him. He eluded them for two years. He got the jump on them and subdued two men with just his briefcase. So what if he had planned for every possible outcome during the Russian Roulette game too and had piping lined underneath his suit to spurt out fake blood at the right time and the bullet was a dummy or a blank? Squid game men love to fake their deaths. Gi-hun winning the Russian Roulette game and not giving into his mind games throws him into abject shock. That's the second time he loses his smug smile. Gi-hun throwing his words back in his face only makes it worse, to the point he's driven to suicide rather than admit Gi-hun is right. But what if his “suicide” was just a part of a contingency plan so he could lie low for a while and then eventually go back to recruiting players once Gi-hun wasn’t a problem anymore and it was deemed by the people he worked for that it was safe to do so?

After his fake death, he’s left alone in the room when the main characters leave. He gets up from the chair he was playing dead in, cleans himself up by changing his clothes and washing away the blood on his skin, and goes home to you, his wife, as if nothing happened. You’re kept in the dark about what he really does. (Or you’re in on it and help him get the bloodstains out of his clothes, though you work behind the scenes and use your computer and hacking skills to find potential players and learn everything about them. He has to get his information from somewhere, after all. But you don’t go “out into the field” so to speak like he does.) If you don’t know the truth, he explains that he’s been granted extended vacation time from his work and suggests a holiday outside of South Korea. What about Thailand? Or Italy might be nice. Anywhere you want to go, just say the word. He has plenty of money to sustain the both of you during said vacation so don’t worry if you can’t get the time off. You didn’t really like your job anyway, right? Or maybe you’re pregnant so you take advantage of maternity and paternity leave early. Either way, a months or years long holiday would sound heavenly, wouldn’t it? If you do know the truth, you’re prepared the second he gives you a call on your restricted phone and says just a few words. You’ve been prepared for this day for years.

6. A scenario very much like the Korean thriller movie “Addicted”. You’re the long time girlfriend of The Recruiter’s brother (Of course you know The Recruiter’s actual name but for simplicity’s sake, I’ll just call him The Recruiter so authors can choose whatever name they want to give him.) and get married. While he and his brother are very different as people, and the only thing they really have in common is the parents they share, they are very close despite having very different interests and personalities. You wonder if the only reason they get along so well is because of you since you’re the common link between them. The Recruiter decides to take part in a car race for money even though his brother, who is concerned for his safety, asks him not to do that particular race. With a heavy heart, your husband plans on attending the car race to support his brother. Running late, he has to hail a taxi. The speeding taxi crashes into a lorry, and your husband is seriously injured. At the same time as the taxi crashes, The Recruiter’s car overturns in the middle of the race and he is also badly injured. Both The Recruiter and your husband fall into comas.

A year later, The Recruiter wakes up but is unable to walk properly, due in part to his physical injuries. He is brought home by you, where you attempt to take care of him while he recovers. Over time, you realize that The Recruiter is behaving identically to your husband. He tries to convince you that he feels like he is actually his brother, your husband, unable to explain why. He agrees to go for a hypnosis test and his answers so reflect his brother's character, that the doctor concludes your husband’s spirit has entered his brother (The Recruiter’s) body. You’re devastated by this revelation. You, unable to accept The Recruiter as your husband, tell his girlfriend that you are unable to live with him. She offers to take The Recruiter away and he agrees to go with her for your sake. One rainy day, he appears to you just as your husband had before. You discuss memories together and you finally accept The Recruiter as the "possessed" spirit of your husband. The Recruiter and you then share a slow, emotional night together where you have sex after the tearful revelation. You start to live life together as a happy and loving couple. In time, you become pregnant with The Recruiter’s child. Meanwhile, your real husband is still on life support. The doctor suggests to you that there is no chance of your husband waking up and it may be best if he were allowed to die in peace. You agree, and watch with The Recruiter as your husband is taken off life support.

The Recruiter’s girlfriend returns and tells you that she has accepted the fact that her now ex-boyfriend is no longer himself, and that she can no longer love him. She decides to go abroad to study (she may or may not have been blackmailed or bribed by the Recruiter and the people he works for to keep quiet and get lost or else be shot dead and her body burned and never found). The Recruiter, living as your husband, continues life as normal. Recruiting players for the games and keeping you in the dark about what he does or who he really is. You’re not feeling well while you’re out and about with him, so you decide to go home to get some rest and let him stay as what he’s doing is too important for him to just leave with you. While you’re home, a weird looking package addressed to The Recruiter arrives. You open it and find a necklace which had been given to you by The Recruiter. It went missing one day. You thought you just misplaced it.

You read the accompanying note, from The Recruiter’s ex-girlfriend, saying that she cannot understand his crazy love for you and could never ever hope to be you, no matter how hard he tried to mold her into you. Frantic, you dig through The Recruiter’s workroom and find a number of hidden photos of yourself that were taken by The Recruiter. You realize that he had loved you before you married his brother. You also find a notebook that The Recruiter wrote about loving you and being happy because he is able to watch you and live with you through his brother. You cry sorrowfully. You drive back to The Recruiter. You take him aside and ask him various questions about something innocuous like works of art and comment that some pieces may look good in your home and he should consider bidding on them or buying them outright. You continue to pretend that your husband’s spirit is in The Recruiter’s body despite knowing the truth. The Recruiter scatters his brother’s ashes across the sea. He loved you even before his brother, and had for the entire time you were with him. He faked his leg injury so you’d take care of him for a few weeks before he could pretend it was all healed thanks to you. The Recruiter also confesses that he made use of all of his brother's secrets to "transform" himself into him, to the extent of sacrificing his own identity and behavior. He claims that it was he who died after the accident. He tells his brother that you will forever love him under the identity of your dead husband. He apologizes and asks his brother never to forgive him for his deeds.

7. Hear me out: A consensual non-consent/CNC roleplay fic with The Recruiter. While you’re not a loan shark yourself, you’re part of the team Gi-hun hires to help track down The Recruiter due to being an associate of sorts of theirs and being personally recommended to Gi-hun by them. You’re the only woman and the youngest amongst the many men you’ve worked with the past two or three years. Despite your gender and age, you’ve proven to them and to Gi-hun that you’re experienced and have had great success in finding people that don’t want to be found. You’re highly capable and confident that you can do this and you’re not just in it for the one billion won he promised to whoever finds The Recruiter. You’re with Kim Jeong-rae and Choi Woo-seok when they spot The Recruiter at Jonggak Station. The three of you are told to follow him carefully but avoid making contact and do not approach him. You watch him in Tapgol Park when he gives bread and lottery tickets to homeless people, but he doesn’t approach you, Choi, or Kim. Secretly, while Kim and Choi are shocked at The Recruiter’s behavior and think he’s a total nutcase when he stomps on all the bread after making a short speech to everyone, you think he’s so hot when he’s a little disheveled after all his stomping and combs his fingers through his hair, slicking it back and tucking his tie back into his suit blazer.

Despite Gi-hun’s order to not engage, you get the idea to follow The Recruiter down the alleyway and tell Mr. Kim and Mr. Choi that you might lose him if you wait and should just get him by yourselves. Before they can protest or tell you to wait, you’re running ahead, yelling for The Recruiter to stop. They don’t have time to argue and run after you to help you. When they get close, they witness The Recruiter hit you a couple times, so hard that the force of his hits causes you to stumble backwards and fall to the ground. You’re seemingly knocked out cold when your head makes impact with the hard cement. Despite Mr. Choi having a knife, The Recruiter easily subdues the two men with just his briefcase, knocking them unconscious for real. Once he tells you it’s okay to do so, you open your eyes. He grabs your hand and helps you up. You dust yourself off then help The Recruiter drag and carry Kim Jeong-rae and Choi Woo-seok’s bodies inside to finish setting up the room for Russian Roulette. Together, you stand on the roof of a building and watch Gi-hun from above. When he tells you, you take your place in a chair that’s in the middle so you’ll be in perfect view of both men when they wake up and you’ll have The Recruiter standing directly behind you the entire time, his body pressed against the back of your chair and hovering over you. You nearly moan and rub your thighs together while he fastens your wrists to the armchair and pulls the ropes extra tight. As he ties the gag around your mouth, he gives you a warning to behave or else he’ll make use of your mouth later. But all you can think is, “Mmm. Don’t threaten me with a good time, daddy.” You see the lust swimming in his deep brown irises underneath his faux irritation with you. You know that if he could, he’d fuck you right now. But like you, he’s sticking to the plan and is going to wait to start the game until the real players wake up. On command, you let out a few tears to make your acting all the more believable.

Kim Jeong-rae and Choi Woo-seok wake up and The Recruiter puts on opera music and explains the rules of Rock, Paper, Scissors, Minus One, and Russian Roulette, dramatically illustrating the penalty for the loser when he points the gun to his own head and pulls the trigger. But there’s another twist. They may have noticed you’re tied to your chair a little differently than they’re tied to theirs. That’s because, unlike them, you’re not playing. You’ll be an observer of sorts and won’t need the use of your hands. To their horror, The Recruiter then takes a knife or pair of scissors out of his pocket and violently cuts your clothes off your body. When you try to thrash and pull away from him, he slaps you and orders you to sit still unless you want him to cut your pretty skin. He grips your hair to keep you in place as he grazes the knife or scissors against your cheek, not cutting you, but coming very close. You sob harder and squeal in fear as you comply until you’re left in just your underwear, (because he is the only man allowed to look at your cunt) your shredded clothes in pieces around you. You don’t even have your bra or socks anymore. He explains to Mr. Kim and Mr. Choi that, for every time they tie and have to go again, he will touch you however he wants in front of them, seemingly without your consent. The first time they’ll tie, it’ll be for fifteen seconds. Then thirty. Then forty-five, and so on. And they’ll be forced to watch for the duration. He’ll point the gun and pull the trigger at whoever diverts their eyes before the time is up. He has so many fun toys he could use on you in his briefcase.

Your acting really sells it and adds to their fear and disgust. Whenever they tie, you pretend to cringe and sob every time The Recruiter touches you, letting out muffled screams as you beg him not to. He’d do all sorts of things to you, from fondling and squeezing your breasts, to sticking out his tongue and licking a long path on your skin from your wrist to your shoulder to your neck to your cheek before ending in biting your ear. He’d remove your gag for just a second, not giving you time to cry out before he’s tilting your head back to kiss your mouth, violating your lips with his own and the inside of your mouth with his tongue. He’d kiss you so hard that he’d bite down and your lower lip would bleed. After he’s done kissing you, he’d lick up the blood from your bleeding lip and immediately put the gag back in place. He’d drag the gun down between your breasts and to the inside of your underwear, rubbing it against your mound and teasing the possibility of inserting it inside your cunt, only to actually reach his other hand inside your underwear and finger you instead, using toys on you, etc. You’re such a pretty little actress, aren’t you? So good for him.

The exhibitionism, the humiliation, and Mr. Kim and Mr. Choi’s fear of death makes it all the more exciting for you and The Recruiter, especially when Choi and Mr. Kim beg him to stop, for you to be left alone. Though their pleas are just as muffled as yours. The shame and pity in their eyes as they’re forced to watch what they believe to be you being sexually assaulted by a sadistic stranger almost makes you want to laugh. But all games must end eventually. The time comes when The Recruiter puts five bullets into the chamber, increasing the chances of death to 5 in 6. When Mr. Kim refuses to take a hand away and sacrifices himself to spare Choi Woo-seok, The Recruiter shoots him dead. His blood splatters over the space between your breasts but only a little bit of it lands on The Recruiter’s cheek. As he passes by you, he strokes your hair with one hand, running his fingers through it and then letting it go as he bends down and congratulates a traumatized Choi on his win. He looks over his shoulder at your practically naked form, shivering and twitching with the aftershock of everything he did to you with just his tongue, hands, and toys thus far. He hasn’t even given you his cock yet and already you’re like this. He gloats that while Choi won the game, he’s the real winner who received the grand prize - you. He asks if they can have a talk. The Recruiter asks questions on Gi-hun’s location.

After the interrogation, The Recruiter knocks Choi out again and unties you so he can unbuckle his pants and manhandle you however he wants so he can have sex with you properly. Against the wall, on the table, on the floor, on the couch, it doesn’t matter. He’ll take you wherever and however he wants to take you. Rock, Paper, Scissors, Minus One and Russian Roulette was just a warmup. But this…this is even more intense. Even more passionate, primal, painful. When he inserts his fingers and/or cock inside you, it always hurts so damn good. He’s demanding, he’s high maintenance, but you always are able to keep up and know exactly what he wants without him even having to say a word. You read his body language so well. He’s the same way with you. He can tell exactly what you want just from the noises you make. Though he loves to hear you use your words and say it. He can be such a tease sometimes. He loves driving you to the precipice but withholding your orgasm from you until he believes you’ve earned it. He planted you within the Loan Sharks’ circle and tasked you with earning their and Gi-hun’s trust by using the information he fed you so you could pretend to be good at finding people. The ploy worked. Good girls deserve rewards and bad girls earn punishments. And while you’ve been bad at times over the past three or more years you’ve known him and have been punished by him accordingly, you were such a good girl for him in the game, so he’ll reward you by fucking you however you want and then giving you amazing aftercare. He hit you rather hard to make the act believable and your skin might be bruising, but you took it so well. He’ll get out the first aid kit and make you feel better in more ways than one. This plan was as much your idea as it was his. God, you’re so fucking brilliant, a perfect match for him in mind and body. He fucking loves you, even if he’s not the kind of man to say it often.

You change into the outfit he picked out and bought for you, including new lingerie to replace the set he half-destroyed. Could be a nice women’s dress suit similar to his. Something expensive but overall inconspicuous. When he goes to confront Gi-hun and play Russian Roulette again, you’re hidden in an alley nearby, waiting behind the wheel in the getaway car for after he either wins the game or fakes his suicide/death. Whether The Recruiter wins, loses, or Gi-hun breaks the rules and tries to shoot him, it doesn’t matter. You’ve planned ahead for every possible outcome, and they all end with the both of you getting away and lying low for a while, continuing your work for the games from behind the scenes. It’s not long before he opens the passenger door and has you drive, opening his briefcase where he has guns at the ready. He gives you the directions throughout the drive and you’re off. You’re like a professional stunt driver at the wheel, having no issues going high speeds, making smooth and fast turns, and weaving in and out of traffic to evade pursuers if you have to. He needs to keep his hands free in case you’re followed and he needs to lean out the window and shoot at anyone.

8. Going off of a previous thought I had now that season 2 revealed In-ho had a wife who died young from acute cirrhosis of the liver, and that he took bribes when he was a dirty cop because of her condition: What if In-ho went so far to save you from your illness that it turned into a Nora and Mr. Freeze situation? You were just a happily married couple but then you started feeling unwell. You didn’t think much of it at first, thinking your symptoms were from something else like the flu or food poisoning. It possibly got so bad that you fainted and hit your head on the way down. When he got home from work, your place was filled with smoke but no fire as the smoke alarms went off. Covering his mouth and nose, he was quick to open windows to let the smoke out. He found you unconscious in the kitchen, your hair matted by the pool of blood forming on the floor from your head wound. He’d never been so terrified until that moment. As much as he wanted to rush to you and make sure you weren’t dead, he had to secure the house first. He had to make sure you weren’t attacked and that, if you were, the attacker wasn’t still inside, hiding somewhere. With his gun pointed, he searched every room. All clear and nothing appeared to be stolen or out of place. He didn’t care about the burned dinner you were in the middle of making as he rushed you to the hospital. He was there with you, holding your hand during every doctor appointment, every test. And that was when you got the news. When he has a heart to heart with Gi-hun while undercover as Oh Young-il/Player 001, he tells him the truth. Not the whole truth, but some of it: That you’re very sick with acute cirrhosis and need a liver transplant (or any other disease and treatment of your choosing). But when you were going through the tests, you found out you were pregnant. The doctor suggested a termination, but you wouldn’t listen. You said you’d give birth even if it killed you. You’re stubborn. Your husband has never been able to change your mind about anything. You were struggling to find a donor and your condition was getting worse.

“Breathe. I'm right here. Look at me. Where's the formoterol?” He kneeled down next to you, wrapping his arm around you as you coughed violently (possibly coughing up blood) and struggled to inhale and exhale properly. He found the bottle and gave you the pill, helping you to drink by tipping the glass of water to your lips. The attack gradually subsided.

“That was the worst one yet.”

“That was the last pill. Why didn't you tell me?”

“I'm sorry. I forgot. There's so many. There's so many,” you cried.

“If you have another attack and you don't have this medication, you could die. You can't let this happen again.”

“Why? Does it matter?”

“It matters. I'll be back. I need to get this refilled.”

He went to the pharmacy, leaving you alone in your house.

“Next.”

“I need to get this refilled.”

“Do you have the prescription?”

“I have the bottle.”

“That's not the same thing, is it?”

“Please, I just need it refilled.”

“The original prescription doesn't have a refill order. If it doesn't have a refill order, I can't refill it.”

“This medication is for my wife. She's sick. She's in pain.”

“Everyone that comes in here is sick or in pain. Have your doctor write a new prescription. Then I can refill it.”

“Just give me the medication.”

“No.”

“You son of a bitch!” In-ho lunged at the man, trying to strangle him. He was pulled off and away by two other workers.

“Get out! Get him out of here! Get out of here before I call the cops, you kook!”

Call the cops? He was a fucking cop.

“You shouldn't have done that. I'll be back,” he warned, pointing a finger as he left.

You were admitted to the hospital though you could barely afford it and your husband visited every day until his visits suddenly stopped. You were worried but he never returned your phone calls. For an entire week, you didn’t hear from him. He borrowed as much money as he could, but it still wasn’t enough. He was desperate, then one of his oldest vendors heard about the situation and offered to help. So he borrowed money from them. But people saw it as a bribe and he got fired from his job. He had devoted his entire youth to it. The games were his last hope. He really needed that money even if it was blood money. He needed that money to save you and your child. That all happened in 2015 during the 28th annual squid games.

When he came back after he won a week later, he was all in black, including gloves and a mask that covered his entire face and changed his voice (not his Front Man outfit, but something similar). He was carrying a Heckler & Koch MP5A3 sub-machine gun and his Smith & Wesson Model 19 revolver from back when he was a cop. Though he’d gone against the protocol of leaving one chamber empty and another filled with a blank. He had five live bullets loaded in the chamber and ready to fire as he pointed it at the worker that denied him before.

“Formoterol. Now.” He demanded. Upon entering the pharmacy, he shot the only other worker and person in the building not to kill but to incapacitate him so he couldn’t call for help.

“Okay. Okay. Take it all. Please, don't kill me. Please. I’ll-I'll do anything you want.” The worker begged, holding his hands up. He wasn’t so smug now, was he?

In-ho took all of the medication you needed. “Thank you. You and your friend here...are helping to save my wife.”

He shot both men dead and left.

To make sure nobody would make a missing persons report or come looking for you when he inevitably kidnapped you from the hospital you were staying in and brought you to the island, he faked your death by doing something crazy like impersonating a doctor and drugging you with something that wouldn’t kill you, but make your heart rate so slow that it caused a Code Blue and set off the alarms, making it look like you were flatlining. He even forged legal documents making it look like you consented to a “Do Not Resuscitate” order so that medical staff wouldn’t accidentally kill you by shocking you or break your ribs from performing chest compressions. Once they disabled all the alarms and unhooked you from the IVs and monitors that were attached to your skin and moved you to the morgue, he kidnapped you and replaced your unconscious body with an unclaimed female corpse that was unrecognizable in the face and teeth but looked enough like you to pass by planting stuff on it so his family would false identify it as you after DNA tests matched with you. After whisking you away to the island to get you the treatments you needed to overcome your sickness, whenever you were awake, he smoothly lied to you to leave you oblivious and in the dark about where you really were and what was really going on, taking advantage of your confusion and disorientation and other side effects from your condition to gaslight you.

“In-ho...?”

“I'm here, darling. I brought you home,” he said, holding your hand.

The room you were in didn’t look familiar. It didn’t look like home. It looked more like a luxurious hotel room.

“I'm so tired.”

“I know. It'll all be over soon.”

“In-ho... I want you to let me go. Let me die,” you begged, cupping his face in your hands.

“Honey, you don't mean that. We can do this. A donor has been found. The surgery will work. I'll be there when you wake up. I'll be there.”

“Okay.” You nodded your head and he kissed you.

Just as you were about to be put under, you stopped him and who you assumed to be doctors standing nearby (though they were dressed rather strangely) from injecting you with the sedative or putting the mask with knockout gas over your nose and mouth by grabbing his hand. “In-ho, wait. My necklace. The one that you gave me on our first anniversary. I left it on the nightstand in my hospital room when I had to go in for scans. Did you get it for me? Please, dear, tell me you did.”

He hesitated, unsure if you were just stalling for the sake of stalling or not. He brought it with him. Of course he did. “I got it. I've got it,” he said, pulling it out of his pocket to show you.

“Can you put it on me? Please, honey. I know it’s silly, but it’d make me feel…less afraid.”

He complied with your wish, bending over you to put it around your neck, clasping it into place. You fiddled with it, the familiarity of the metal bringing you comfort under your fingers. Now that he was close enough, you put your other hand on his cheek, rubbing it as you ran your fingers through his hair. “In-ho. I love you. If I don’t make it off the table… Please don't blame yourself.”

“You’ll make it. I’ll see you soon.” He reassured you, giving you one last kiss. “I love you,” was one of the last things you heard. A few minutes later, you were unconscious.

It’d take months, possibly even years to even begin to get you back to where you were, though you’ve shown signs of improvement after undergoing treatment. You were often unconscious from the surgeries and operations during your pregnancy and he’d tell himself he wasn’t gaslighting you out of malice, but out of love. The less you knew, the safer you’d be. He’d go as far to make sure you didn’t find out that he keeps hidden cameras around his quarters and a tracker hidden in either a piece of jewelry he knows you always wear or possibly under your skin even, claiming it was part of your surgeries so you wouldn’t question the stitches or the healing scar. You don’t feel it so you don’t know it’s there. You spent most of your pregnancy on bedrest. He couldn’t drug or sedate you too much because of the risk to the baby’s health, but even when you were awake, he’d do his damnedest to keep you safe, healthy, and comfortable even while lying to you or expertly deflecting your questions. Where’s your cell phone? Deflect. Why can’t this Apple computer in his office connect to the internet? Deflect. When can you go home? Deflect. Where are you? Deflect. Even though the circumstances of your new living situation were unclear and left you unsettled, you were excited to give birth despite the somewhat shady doctors your husband brought to care for you. If he ever detected you trying to leave his quarters, an alarm beeped just loud enough for him to hear it, signaling to him to put his quarters on complete lockdown with a push of a button so you couldn’t wander off and he’d rush to check on you. He’d either sedate you again if he absolutely had to out of fear your lashing out at him would be a danger to yourself or the baby, or he’d otherwise distract or dissuade you from asking too many questions or wandering too far. If you asked questions, he’d tell you to think of it as a dream, that it isn’t a bad dream for you anyway since you’ll have your baby soon. When the time came for you to give birth, your husband was there with doctors that were hired for their discretion (or he’d just kill them afterwards) and you gave birth to a healthy baby and survived, though the birth was difficult and took a great toll on your body. That was in 2015 or 2016.

You thought you’d be able to go home eventually, but in reality, you’re still practically a prisoner on an unknown island. During the first couple years, you took care of your baby while your husband oversaw vulnerable people being driven to kill others or themselves out of desperation for blood money for the entertainment of bored rich people in sadistic death games. Whenever it was lights out for the players, he came back and gave you your much needed break, taking his turn to care for your baby while you rested. You’re not sure why you’re still here as you’re feeling much better, but your husband and doctors keep saying your condition isn’t stable yet, you’re not in the clear, a few more tests and treatments. It’s always something. He won’t let you leave. You can’t leave this place without his permission.

And even worse, when your child reached a certain age, maybe around three or four (old enough to walk and talk), he took them away from you, sent them to be raised and cared for by people he knew he could trust until the time was right for you to take them back. He couldn’t let your child grow up in this place and become old enough to have awareness of their surroundings or start asking questions. When children reach a certain age, they get curious. Too curious. He couldn’t risk that. And this is no place for a child anyway. They need proper socialization and a healthy environment to grow and learn. When you found out what he’d done, you yelled at him, screamed at him, hit him repeatedly. He took it all. Then you ignored him, gave him the silent treatment. He took that too. He’d understand if you never forgive him but he needs you to understand that he does all of this because he loves and cares about you and your child - his family - more than he does a bunch of strangers. He’ll kill however many he needs to if it means you both get to live. And that’s why when Thanos is talking shit while he’s undercover in the games, telling him to stop running his mouth and take care of his own damn kids, to save the lecture for his own children, he snaps and beats the shit out of him, nearly choking him to death in the middle of the dorms. But, unbeknownst to him, after your child was taken away from you, you became more proactive in discovering the truth and getting off this damn island. You weren’t just gonna lie down and blindly love and trust your husband anymore. You can play dual roles and keep secrets as well as he can. You know your husband would never kill you. He’s done everything to save you. And even if he does kill you for going behind his back, you’re not afraid of dying. Your resolve is strong, unwavering. You’ll either get off this damn island and get your child back or die trying, with or without your husband. It’ll be up to him what he wants to do, if he comes with you or not. You just have to bide your time and play your cards right.

9. You’re a player and while In-ho is undercover as player 001/Oh Young-il, you and he form some kind of connection and stick together during the games. You likely have a considerate age gap between you. He’s probably at least fifteen years older than you but despite that, you’re hot for each other. You have been ever since surviving the six legged relay race. You’re so thankful he and his team took pity on you and let you join and bonded with him in the dorms afterwards. He sticks by you during the Mingle game and saves your life by grabbing your wrist and running with you, keeping you close for every round so you’re always in a room with him, no matter how many people are needed. On the last round, he kills a man in ten seconds before your very eyes after he refuses to leave. After the game, he comes to you during lights out and asks if you want to go with him somewhere away from everybody else to have some “much needed alone time together”. You know, despite his use of euphemism or polite language, that he’s inviting you to have sex to blow off some steam and come down from the high that the combined stress of playing the latest game and left over adrenaline gave you.

You follow his lead when he knocks on the door and asks a guard to use the bathroom. Together you ditch the guard (unbeknownst to you, he used his authority as the Front Man and subtly signaled the guard to go away.) and he takes you back to the room where the Mingle game was played, now spotless from clean up. No blood or bodies anywhere. The lights are mostly off and the few that are on are low, making the lighting in the room look dark purple, almost black, with hints of red. He tells you to pick any door of your choosing. You pick a door that’s your favorite color and he grabs you by the hand or lifts you up to carry you bridal style or over his shoulder into the room, closing the door behind you. You barely pay attention to the sound of the lock clicking into place as In-ho/Young-il is instantly on you, his hands and mouth all over your body, touching and feeling everywhere he can before you even begin to take your clothes off. That comes soon enough as, finally alone, you have sex on the floor in the colored room, the light above reflecting off the painted walls and creating makeshift “mood lighting” as you meet his hot kisses and touches with equal fervor. The potential danger of being caught by the pink guards only further turns you on. Unbeknownst to you, there’s no danger at all since you’re having sex with the Front Man and Host of the games. You’d hate to admit it, but you thought he was so sexy when he was strangling that man to death. It almost turned you on when he didn’t break eye contact with you and you heard the player’s neck snap. While he’s thrusting in and out of you, you beg him to choke you. He asks if you’re sure, and you confirm your consent. He tells you to tap his shoulder or scratch down his back three times if you want him to let go. While he fucks you, he chokes you so hard that your vision begins to blur and you see stars as you struggle to breathe. He doesn’t apply enough pressure to kill you or knock you out, but it’s enough to make your orgasm that much sweeter of a high.

10. While In-ho is undercover as player 001/Oh Young-il, he becomes obsessed with you because you’re visibly pregnant and/or have a resemblance to his deceased wife somehow. Even if it’s just one thing like your smile, eyes, or personality. After his wife got sick and both she and their unborn child died, he was devastated at the loss of his family, believing he went through the games and won, but it was all for nothing as he got out only to find his family was already dead. He felt guilty for not spending time with his wife in the hospital and being there for her before she died. (“I should go and be with my wife at the hospital,” he said to Gi-hun.) He never really forgave himself for just abandoning her without a word. And with nothing to go back to in the outside world - no wife, no child, no job - he dedicated himself to the games as the Front Man. That’s why he snapped and beat the shit out of Thanos and nearly choked him to death after his insensitive comments about “save the lecture for your own damn kids”. He thought he lost his beloved wife and his baby forever, but seeing you makes him believe he can have both a wife and a child again.

He becomes immensely protective of you, so much so that it’s unnerving to the other players at times, possibly even you, but nobody would dare to say a thing to his face. He’s one of the most formidable players in the game. He kills several players in the games personally while telling you sweet and caring things when you’re given moments of respite during the games and when you’re back in the dorms after the games are over.

“When you get out of here, go see a doctor right away. You’ve been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out.”

He gives you his milk or shares his food with you, insisting on you taking it since you’re eating for two and need it more than he does. He lets you use his pillow or blanket during lights out. He’s always asking if you’re all right and cracking jokes to keep the mood light and make you smile despite the circumstances. He keeps you stuck to him during every game like velcro. During the six-legged race? Your arm is interlocked with his. During the Mingle game? He’s holding onto your arm or wrist so tightly when you run to gather enough players and get to a colored door in time that there’s no chance of other frantic players pushing you to the ground or separating you from him. When you need to go to the bathroom outside of hours and sneak out of bed, he’s awake and asks what you’re doing. When you sheepishly admit you need the bathroom, he’s there with you at the door demanding for you to be let out if the guards tell you no at first. Despite being a man, he’s in the women’s bathroom with you. You’re the only two people awake and using the bathroom, so who cares if he’s a man in the women’s bathroom? The guards definitely don’t care. (Because he’s their boss, but you don’t know that.) He’s leaning against the stall directly across from the one you go into or the sink and keeps you company, asking if you’re sick and if you need him to hold your hair back for you if you’re feeling nauseous when he notices you’ve been in there for a long time. If he hears you crying, he’s knocking on the stall before opening it and kneeling in front of you, immediately fretting over you, asking if it’s the baby and if you’re in any pain, are you in labor, is the baby coming? Then he’s holding you and comforting you when you admit you’re afraid. Same for if you have an emotional breakdown over not being allowed to go home after the vote doesn’t go the way you want it to. He’s there to hold you, stroke your hair and stomach (with your permission of course) and tell you you’re going to make it out of this and both you and your baby will be fine. You swear sometimes you hear him say “our” baby, or that he’s calling you pet names like darling, honey, and sweetheart, but he gaslights you and tells you that you must’ve misheard him whenever you call it out and ask him about it.

When he goes with the men to find the control room, you stay behind. While you’re not sure if you love him, you have grown to care for him and see him as a dear friend at least and are worried for him. After the game is over and he goes back to being the Front Man, the pink guards storm into the dorms, firing off two warning shots and ordering everyone to get down on the floor. The sight of the pink guards rushing forwards with their guns pointed and no sign of Young-il or any of the other players makes you fear for the worst. Curled up on your side on the floor, you panic when your water breaks at the exact moment you believe Young-il is dead. Other players might think you’ve peed your pants from fear, but you can feel the contractions already starting. Unbeknownst to you, the Front Man sees your water break on the cameras from the control room, the small puddle staining your sweatpants wet and forming on the floor under you as the women nearby try to comfort you. He orders some of the guards in the control room to escort you out of the dorm room and to his private quarters while the other pink guards are busy defusing the situation. He emphasizes to them to be gentle with you, meaning don’t walk too fast, make sure you don’t fall, and keep their guns pointed away from you at all times. You’re terrified when three or four pink guards approach you and two of them slowly lift you up by your arms and force you to follow them out of the dorms the second you get back on your feet. You’re the only player singled out and escorted away from the others. Your friends are yelling your name, asking the guards where they’re taking you, but they receive no answer. Once you’re in the hallways of many colorful stairs, they blindfold you so you can’t know where you’re going, making you more scared. Your arm is held the whole way to wherever it is you’re going. They don’t tell you anything or answer your questions. They only tell you when there are steps in front of you so you don’t trip and fall on them. But you think they’re holding onto you so you can’t run. You think for sure you’re going to be killed and your baby will be cut out of your dead body and sold to a black market along with your organs or something.

But when the blindfold is removed, you find yourself lying down on a plush bed in a very nice, almost luxurious room with the Front Man and who you think is a doctor of sorts. The Front Man orders the doctor to help you by giving you everything you need for a safe and healthy delivery. But while you’re given a clean and plain men’s t-shirt so you can change out of your ruined track suit, you’re unnerved that the Front Man won’t leave. He’s considerate enough to turn his back or let you change in his bathroom and doesn’t turn back around until you’re back in his bed with your lower half covered with the blankets and the men’s shirt, which is so big and long on you it’s like a nightgown almost. He stands either on your left or right side near your head so he can’t see between your legs. While a part of you is relieved you have that semblance of privacy, he just stands there, watching over you. And you can’t read his face since it’s covered by his black mask. And you can’t tell much emotion from his voice either. It unnerves you.

But the terror becomes confusion when he eventually asks if you need to hold his hand after watching you struggle through a few contractions despite the epidural you were given. What? He repeats the question. When you shakily say yes, he removes his black leather gloves to hold your hand in both of his, letting you squeeze as tightly as you can when the contractions are at their worst. Your strength is nothing compared to his so he barely feels it. His skin is so warm. This bed is warm too. Much warmer than the cot you were sleeping in. You hate to admit that it feels nice. He puts on some jazz music to help you relax. He tells you not to think and to just focus on the music, breathe, and push whenever the doctor tells you to. After who knows how many hours, you give one last push and hear a baby crying. Your baby. After the doctor cleans them up and does what needs to be done for aftercare for you including any stitches or disposing of the placenta, etc., the Front Man orders him to leave. Your baby is wrapped in a soft towel or sheet as a makeshift blanket and resting on your chest. For a moment, you’re too in awe of them to care about the Front Man or what’s happening around you.

But then you hear a soft click as he takes his mask off and reveals himself not as player 001, Oh Young-il - but Hwang In-ho, Captain and Host of the squid games following his predecessor’s death and, even more alarming, your husband and the father of your child. You can’t believe it. He joined Gi-hun's assault on the staff, dispatching several guards personally. He killed two players to effectively fake his death to resume his place amongst the staff. When you’re horrified and exclaim that all those players who went with him are dead because of him, he is quick to correct you that no, they’re all dead because of Gi-hun. Even worse for you, if the real father of your child is still alive, whether or not you have a relationship with him, he won’t be alive for much longer. Even if he’s in the outside world and not a part of the games, In-ho will still find a way to kill him discreetly and dispose of the body so he can have you and your child for himself. He effectively kidnaps you and keeps you and your baby captive in his quarters because he’s all kinds of fucked up after his wife and unborn child’s deaths. You thought the games made him so relentless, that the games changed him. What you don’t know is that this relentless drive to get what he wants was apparent even before becoming the Front Man, as there were many self-help books on achieving one's desires in his old apartment.

If you’re not already pregnant when he meets you, he’d be determined to impregnate you and would go out of his way to seduce you through emotional and mental manipulation or bribes during downtime between the games. Even worse for you if it works and you sleep with him in a moment of clouded judgment due to your hormones and/or fragile mental and emotional state from the high stress of your near death experiences. Either in your bunk, a bathroom stall, the stairs, or inside one of the colored doors from the Mingle game. Whether or not you’re already pregnant, once you have sex with him, your fate is pretty much sealed. He’d be even more protective and possessive of you, as your consenting to have sex with him would affirm for him the delusion that you love him back and accept him as your husband and father of your child, whether or not he actually is the child’s father biologically.

Either way, it’d be like a Basement Wife trope but he keeps going back and forth between sweet and doting and cold and ruthless personalities so it’s like you’re dealing with a Jekyll and Hyde type situation while prisoner. He’d never hurt you, especially not while you’re in such a fragile condition. He doesn’t want to chain you to the bed or sedate you as it can’t be good for you or the baby, but he will if you persist in misbehaving and lashing out. Stress isn’t good for you or the baby. He has no fear about you harming him, he can easily overpower you without hurting you, but he won’t let you harm yourself or your baby in any way. He might strap a monitor on your wrist that you can’t take off because it has a very special lock only he has the key to. Kind of like a house arrest ankle monitor. But this monitor allows him to monitor your health, whereabouts, and call you if he’s away for any reason - like an Apple Watch. Either that or he’d implant a tracking chip under your skin somewhere on your body while you’re passed out from being sedated. If you wake up, he knows. If you get out of bed to get a glass of water, use the bathroom, take a shower, or otherwise move around his quarters, he knows. If you so much as get a goddamn paper cut from reading a book, he knows. He won’t let anything happen to you or your child. You should’ve known something was wrong with him when he strangled a man to death and broke his neck in front of you during the Mingle game just so you and he could be the only two people in the room needed to pass. He looked at you and you saw no remorse or horror in his eyes. Only pride at protecting you.

11. You’re pregnant during the games and go into labor at an inopportune moment, possibly during the games or during the “special game” of the lights out free for all when everybody was murdering each other. If it’s the special game, he’d hide under the bed on the bottom level with you and his “friends”, his arms wrapped around you and his body almost on top of yours like a human shield. His hand would clamp over your mouth to keep you quiet if you cried out from seeing a player get murdered right in front of your eyes. You’d cry out again and that’s when you’d both feel wetness coming from your sweatpants and you both know it’s not pee. However it happens, In-ho/Young-il is so fiercely protective of you, having a soft spot for you ever since you revealed you were pregnant when you approached him and his team for the six-legged race and since then giving you special treatment that you thought was just him being nice, like giving you extra food and milk or letting you use his pillow and blanket so you’d be more comfortable during lights out.

When pink guards burst in and the players enact their plan to steal the guards’ guns and infiltrate the control room to capture the Front Man, In-ho makes sure you stay down and out of the rain of fire as he shoots many pink guards dead. When enough guards are dead and the others have retreated, he gets ready to head out with Gi-hun and his team. He waits until everyone else in line is ahead of him before he helps you up and takes you out of the room with him, telling you that you can’t stay in the dorms and he knows a place where you’ll be safe to deliver your baby. While the others are being led by the pink guard they took hostage and aren’t looking at him and you at the very back of the line, he takes you down a different hallway. You’re confused as it appears to be a dead end. He looks up towards a camera and nods. You don’t have time to react or understand what’s happening when the wall behind you opens up and a couple of pink guards blindfold you and grab hold of you from behind, pulling you away as you scream Young-il’s name for help. The others are too far away and can’t hear you over the sounds of their own yelling and all the gunfire. The last thing you hear is gunfire and Young-il’s voice telling you to trust him and that you’re going to be fine before the wall slides shut again, cutting you off from him and everyone else. You have no choice but to go wherever the guards are leading you and hope you and your baby will be okay along with Young-il. That’s why when after In-ho shoots players 047 and 015 in the back, he tells the control room to start wrapping things up. The sooner Gi-hun’s failed attempt at playing the hero ends, the sooner he can drop the facade of being Young-il and be at your side while you give birth in his private quarters.

In-ho arranges for you to be exempt from the game so you can be taken away and brought to a medical bay or his personal quarters quietly without the other players putting up too much of a fuss since you can’t compete while in labor. It wouldn’t be fair and the games are all about fairness, or so he likes to preach. (Just like how he exempted Mi-nyeo from the marbles game when nobody wanted to pair up with her.) Could be part of my previous ideas of you being pregnant or could be its own separate thing.

12. You’re his wife and you’re very sick with acute cirrhosis and need a liver transplant. (Or any other disease and treatment of your choosing.) But when you’re going through the tests, you find out you’re pregnant.

"What-what are you saying?" In-ho gasps out as panic and wishful thinking begin to battle in his mind.

You brush your hand against his and smile with teary eyes. "The doctor is saying I'm pregnant, In-ho. We're going to have a baby."

You’re happy about this. He can’t believe it. Under different circumstances, sure. He could understand you being happy then. But now? With you so sick? Being pregnant now is far too dangerous. Even the doctor suggests a termination, but you won’t listen. You tell your husband you’ll give birth even if it kills you. You’re stubborn. Your husband has never been able to change your mind about anything. But in the following weeks, you’re struggling to find a donor and your condition is getting worse. He borrows as much money as he can, but it still isn’t enough. Then one of his oldest vendors hears about the situation and offers to help. So he borrows money from them. But people see it as a bribe and he gets fired from his job. He had devoted his entire youth to it. He’s desperate. Desperate enough to do something terrible. An irrevocable betrayal.

The first scare is...relatively simple, in retrospect. That night, In-ho comes home to you, perfect and lovely, preparing a meal meant to be shared. He doesn’t have much time to stay before he has to leave for “work” once more, but just seeing you in your shared dingy little kitchen creating something with him in mind makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. It’s a wonderfully simple moment the two of you spend together, holding hands like lovestruck teenagers across the table while you eat. As he’s preparing to depart, you sit by the window and sip at a glass of your favorite non-alcoholic beverage, illuminated by the lights of the city. In-ho is certain he's never seen you more beautiful. You take another sip of your drink before a strange expression crosses your features. It’s mostly an unreadable expression, but there’s the undercurrent of something...sad. It’s something In-ho has never really seen before, and it makes the first tendrils of anxiety curl in his stomach.

"Darling? Is something wrong?" he asks, walking over to where you sit.

"No, no, not at all," you assure him. When you look up at him, the twinge of sadness is already gone. "I just had...a strange thought, that's all. I'm being silly." You reach over and place your hand on his cheek. He can’t help but nuzzle into the simple touch and press a kiss to your soft palm. "Go," you say comfortingly. "Work hard, do good."

In-ho manages a smile and places his hand over yours for a lingering moment before pulling away. "I’ll see you soon, my love."

The two of you share a smile before he turns to go. He’s halfway to the door when he hears your voice again. And what you say makes his blood run cold. To you, it’s something so innocent, so innocuous. But In-ho almost drops what he’s holding. Just from that one sentence, he can tell you’re worsening. He scrambles to remember when your last injection was, and his mind is already cataloguing the work he will need to do to prepare your next one. He curses himself internally for letting it go so long, for putting you in this position. You need your medicine and he’s going to get it for you.

In-ho almost forgets about that incident by the time something else happens.

You place his hand over your stomach, encouraging him to splay his fingers out as if you’re expecting something to happen from his touch. "Do you feel anything? Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Not at all." He tilts his head at you with confusion and a hint of worry. "Why? Are you feeling all right, is everything okay, darling?"

"No, In-ho, everything is fine!" You still hold his hand over your stomach, gently stroking over the skin on the back of it with your thumb to reassure him. "I feel great. You...didn't notice anything?"

He shakes his head, brows furrowed but relishing in the feel of your soft skin.

"Oh," you say with an edge of...disappointment? "I guess it must be too early, then. I thought I felt movement. Must’ve been phantom kicks.” The smile on your features steadily grows nevertheless.

His throat tightens and he feels the beginnings of hot tears prick behind his eyes, so he has to look away from you. All he can hear is the blood rushing through his ears, your words falling away somewhere behind him. Imagining you pregnant was one thing. It gave him a private thrill, the idea of having a family. With you. It was a beautiful fantasy he kept close to his heart, but he knows now that you’re getting further along, that you won’t survive childbirth even if you do manage to carry to term. In the forefront of his mind, he knows that his fantasies of having a child with you has to remain exactly that. Fantasies. At least until your disease is cured or, if it can’t be, then at the very least, he can get you treatment to pull you out of danger and make you healthy again. At a different time, perhaps, your pregnancy would be a joyous moment. How exuberant he would be were things different, to prepare to bring new life into the world. How beautiful you would look, growing with his child, your body undergoing glorious metamorphosis. His child.

But that is not the reality he can live in while you’re still sick. You’re in danger, a danger he helped perpetuate. The thought makes In-ho shudder almost violently. There is no way to guarantee your survival if you go through with this pregnancy, or even the child's survival if you do bring him or her into this world. The thought of you suffering hours of labor, of dying…only for your baby to die after a few feeble hours of breathing in the NICU… That shakes him down to his core, makes him sick to his stomach. It would be better, merciful even, to not introduce a child to this world at this time. It breaks In-ho’s heart to realize, but worse, he’ll have to break yours, too. He can’t just tell you why there’s so much danger in this joy. He tried that when the doctors first gave you the news and advised you to terminate. You wouldn’t listen to him then and it resulted in an argument that he worried would only add too much stress onto you. He pretended to acquiesce to you, telling you that you’re right and together you’ll find a way, you will. There's always hope. As long as you're alive, there's hope, right? And you told him yes. There's hope. And that was the end of the argument. If he brings it up again, what will you think? You definitely won’t change your mind now. Talking to you will get him nowhere. He knows that. He has to do what he has to do.

It isn’t hard to get the pill. It’s a simple thing, a beige color, unassuming overall. Yet, it seems to have the weight of a brick in In-ho’s coat pocket. Since your pregnancy reveal, you had managed to find books on prenatal care and baby names and were going through them religiously. It’s...painful for In-ho to reconcile your eagerness, your pure unadulterated excitement, with what he’s about to do. It’s necessary, he knows that, and he hopes you will understand that. Eventually. He trudges into the house and sure enough, there you are sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through the pages of one of your new baby name books with a highlighter. When you hear the door close, you smile up at In-ho and go to stand to greet him.

"Stay seated, darling, it's fine," he assures you, walking over and kissing your temple.

You giggle at him. "In-ho, I'm only three months along at most, I won't overexert myself by getting up to welcome my wonderful husband home."

"I know, I know." He plants another kiss on your forehead before he walks into the kitchen. "Hungry, my love?"

"I can make dinner, you've been working so hard lately. All that overtime at the precinct."

"Just tonight, honey. Let me do this for you. For...both of you."

Maybe it’s an underhanded manipulation tactic, but it works. You smile with a dreamy look in your eyes, turning back to your book.

In-ho isn’t much of a cook, but he grabbed a few fresh fruits and vegetables the last time he went out for groceries, purposefully so. With a blender he hasn't touched in years, he’s able to whip up a basic green smoothie. He hesitates when he reaches for the pill in his pocket. In that moment, he hears something from behind him: you begin humming to yourself. When he listens closer, he realizes the song is an easily recognizable lullaby. Nausea swirls in his gut and he has to fight the urge to look back at you. If he looks, he won’t be able to go through with it. He crushes the pill into powder and sprinkles it into the mixture, stirring it with a spoon before he can think about it anymore. It’s blended so much that you won’t feel or taste it at all. You won’t notice. When it’s finished, In-ho pushes a glass towards you and is greeted with a curious smile.

"Trying to keep me strong and healthy for the baby?" you tease. You smile warmly. "Thank you, honey. It looks great." You reach out and start to drink without hesitation.

It’s over. In-ho feels like he can breathe again, at least for the moment.

It doesn’t last long.

In-ho goes away to “work”, hoping you’ll be asleep while the pill works. He’s ready to be there for you once he returns, to be with you in any grief you feel.

The house is eerily silent and dark when he returns. In-ho climbs the stairs, eager to slip into bed with you for just a few moments of fitful rest. Just some time to be with you, before he has to face your hurt. The bedroom is empty when he walks in. The bedsheets on your side are haphazardly tossed aside, and you’re nowhere to be seen. He walks over and flips on the nightstand light, and notices out of the corner of his eye a discoloration in the sheets. A large stain rests in the middle of the bed, right where you would be lying, and when In-ho touches it, the tips of his fingers come back red. That’s when he notices the door to the master bathroom is closed, and a bit of light shines from underneath. If he focuses on the silence of the room, he can hear...something, from the other side. He makes his way over, slowly, a death march to the door. He reaches up to knock, but stops when he hears the faint sound again. Tiny gasps, hiccups. Sniffling. Muffled sobs. His heart shatters all over again.

"Darling?" He eventually calls, giving the door a strong but soft knock. "Darling, I'm coming in."

"In-ho?" You gasp out, your voice heavy with tears. "In-ho, no, please, don't-" you dissolve into more pronounced sobs, and In-ho hears something clatter to the floor.

"My love, please let me-"

"I said no!"

He freezes. He has never once heard you like this, the agonized sharpness turned to venom in your words. Not even when you were arguing with him in the doctor’s office over whether to terminate your pregnancy or not. He doesn’t try to knock or speak again, but he cannot bring his feet to drag his body from the door. He ends up sitting with his back against the door, listening to you cry. Alone. He doesn’t get any rest that night. Eventually, In-ho has to regretfully rise. Shady characters are in need of him once again and, in exchange, they’ll give him money he so desperately needs. It’s through such shady characters he was able to procure the medications that you needed so far. How he was able to get the pill to terminate your pregnancy. As he gathers his coat to go, he hears the door creak open, and turns to look at you. It’s like seeing a ghost. You’re pale, eyes red and ringed with dark circles, and even the way you hold yourself is as if you’re being dragged down to the earth. There’s a moment where the two of you simply exist in the same space. In-ho watches your features for even the most minuscule change, and it feels like hours pass as he waits. Eventually, you sigh in an attempt to speak, but your voice shakes with even the simple release of breath. In-ho takes a single step forward and waits again. This time, you meet him halfway, but keep your eyes firmly down and away from his own. Is it shame that motivates you to divert your gaze? The shame that rightfully only he should be feeling? The shame that is, in fact, burning in his core as he observes how much grief is weighing you down? You make an attempt to speak again, but just shake your head. You press your eyes closed to keep from outright sobbing but still stray tears escape. In-ho reaches up and brushes them away, letting his knuckles brush against your cheeks. The contact of his skin against yours shatters the tension and you walk forward into his arms, burying your face against his chest. He holds you close, knowing he’s wholly undeserving of the beautiful creature that is his wife seeking his arms for comfort. He allows himself a single tear that falls into your hair, not any more than that. How dare he compare his grief to yours, how dare he try and appropriate your sorrow? He can almost hear your voice in his head: How dare you? How dare you? Somehow, the embrace ends and he’s helping you into bed after stripping the bloodied sheets and putting on fresh ones. He pulls the blankets around your unmoving form, tucking you in and making sure you’re warm enough.

"I have to go," he whispers regretfully, not even sure if you’ll respond.

And you don’t. You don’t even look at him but, before he leaves, he kisses your lips and your hairline then steals a glance back at you. Your eyes fall closed, and silent tears are streaming down your cheeks as you cry yourself back to sleep.

But it doesn’t end there. You’re hospitalized shortly after and he’s driven to compete in the squid games after being recruited. The games are his last hope. He really needs that money even if it’s blood money. He needs that money to save you since he couldn’t save both you and your child. He could only save one. He wants to return home to you so he can get you the operation and medication you need to ensure you could one day have a healthy and safe pregnancy. He knows you still want a child despite the traumatic loss you suffered. You’ll never know what he did. After he won, you’re still in the hospital, waiting for him. As part of his reward for winning, a donor is found for you on top of the cash prize of 45.6 billion won. But he can’t go back to his old life after all the bridges that have been burned behind him. But he wants - no, needs to keep you. If there’s anyone or anything from his old life he will never let go of, it’s you. Bound by his duties as the Front Man for the games and his marriage vows to you, he has no other choice but to go undercover as a doctor and create a diversion to kidnap you from the hospital so he can whisk you away to an unknown and private island where you can receive the best medical attention for your condition. Somehow, police have already been notified of his activity and what he plans to do.

“He’s in the building, posing as a doctor. He’s armed and has already killed five people. Evacuation is underway. We have to go,” an attending physician says.

“No. An evacuation is exactly what he wants. The staff bailed when the alarms went off. This is a deliberate diversion to get everybody out and away from her. He’s here for her. We can't leave her alone in her room. She’ll die if we leave her alone here or if he takes her,” your personal doctor insists.

“So we take her with us. Come on. Careful.”

“Thank you,” you say weakly as your doctor helps you out of bed and into a wheelchair.

You don’t get very far when you’re stopped by your husband standing in the doorway to the ward you’re kept in, dressed in black scrubs, black gloves, and a medical face mask, just like the police said he’d be. He’s holding a Heckler & Koch MP5A3 sub-machine gun that’s strapped over his shoulder and across his body. “Ah... I'll take it from here.”

“In-ho… In-ho, listen to me. We're trying to help her.”

“You're killing her.”

“No. No, In-ho.”

“In-ho...” you rasp, your voice and body incredibly weak from your disease. Your eyes water when you look at him. Despite his black attire, you can still see the blood on him and you know it’s not his. You’re terrified.

“I understand why you're doing this,” your doctor tries to sympathize.

“I'm saving her life.”

“At the cost of how many other lives?”

“Too many to turn back now. As soon as I've done what I need to do, I'll give myself up. But now we have to leave.”

“In-ho, listen to me. I'm her doctor. I know her history. I’ve known her her entire adult life. If we move her now, she might die.”

“Her doctor. Good. You're coming with us to push the wheelchair. Let's go.”

“No. No way!” The attending physician tries to stop this from happening.

“I'm going. She's my patient,” your doctor insists.

“I can't let you do that. I'll go.”

“It's not your call. She needs me.”

“I'm not gonna hurt her. I don't want to hurt anyone, unless I have to.” Your husband insists.

“I'm going.”

“In-ho, please...don't do this. Please, she’s pregnant.” Pregnant just like I was, you want to say, but you don’t have the strength. Your voice shakes like a rattle as you struggle to breathe while you beg for him to not do this, to leave your doctor out of it, trying to get through to him, to get him to see reason.

“Honey, don't worry. It's all under control.”

“Help...” you beg, your body already feeling worse.

“We have to go. Now.”

You sob when you hear bullets go off, your husband having shot dead the attending physician left behind. He can’t afford to leave any extra witnesses.

“In-ho, please think about this. How will you take care of her if you're in prison?” Your doctor asks as she follows behind him and pushes your wheelchair.

“I won't. You will. The city will. It's the law. As long as she's legally alive, she's a ward of the city and the city has to keep her alive and safe.”

“So I shall undergo countless operations and spend days or weeks in medically-induced comas only to wake up one day with you in prison or dead? A life alone isn't one that I want. There must be another way. Please, In-ho,” you beg him again to reconsider, but he doesn’t listen.

Holding your doctor at gunpoint in her car, he gives her directions and orders her to drive exactly where he tells her to go. You reach docks where a speedboat is waiting for you with masked and armed guards on board. He orders your doctor out of the car and to board the boat at gunpoint, then carefully lifts you into his arms bridal style and carries you onto the boat himself. You’re unconscious for most of the voyage, unable to bear the stress of the situation anymore, though it doesn’t take too long to get to your destination. Against your will, you’re taken to the island. You’re given the surgeries you need, the treatments and medications you need, etc. but despite the success of your operations and treatments, recovery still takes months. Most of it is spent on bedrest and In-ho is still hovering over you whenever he returns to your shared personal quarters, asking both you and your doctor how you’re faring, if you’re eating well and sleeping well, etc. as he comes to your bedside and rests his hand on your head to pet your hair and rub your cheek. You feel guilty that your doctor has been held captive alongside you all these months, kept by your side to attend your every need whenever In-ho is called away and can’t do it himself. You’re terrified of what might happen to her if you were to suddenly take a turn for the worst. It’s not rational, but you have a horrible sinking feeling in your gut that if anything involving you were to go wrong, In-ho would blame her, even if it’s something out of her control. And that he’d kill her if you were to die under her watch.

One day, when you’re alone, you confess to your doctor that she may be able to escape.

“I heard In-ho talking when he thought I was asleep. There’s speedboats and oxygen tanks docked on the coast of the island not far from here. If you hurry, you can take one and make it out before he gets back,” you plead to her.

“I'm not leaving you,” she insists, holding your hand to comfort you.

“This must be very stressful for you and your baby. And you’re almost due.”

“We're fine.”

“Could I have some water?” You ask instead, and she walks away to grab a glass and fill it with water from the sink. She hands it to you. “Thank you. You’ve heard him all these months. He's not a bad man at heart. You’ll get out of here alive, I promise. I’ll talk to In-ho. I’ll do everything in my power to make it so. If I’m not standing on the shoreline and waving you off as I watch you board a boat headed for home, then I’m not breathing at all.”

“Don’t talk like that. You’re going to be fine. The surgeries have been successes so far and your body has accepted the new organ with minimal issues. There have been no signs of rejection.”

“When you’re sent home, you have to tell them that he’s not a bad man. That he only wanted to save me because he loves me. Please.”

“I will.”

“And please tell them that I'm very sorry for my part in this. I saw the man that he was becoming and I did nothing. Because I loved him. You know what that's like, don't you?”

“I do.”

“Thank you. You've been very kind. Can you…would you mind if I ask… Have you picked out any names for your baby?”

You’re desperate to talk about something else, to think about something else. Something happy for her even if it’s bittersweet for you. You need a distraction from your current predicament. When she tells you about the baby’s gender (if she knows it) and the names she likes and has been considering, you smile and tell her about the names you highlighted in the baby name book you had at home. You’re not sure if you would’ve wanted to know the gender or be surprised. You talk about the dreams for the future you once had, whether you wanted your first to be a boy or girl, if you had a preference or not, etc.

During your recovery, your husband still acts as the Front Man for subsequent annual games and you’re kept in the dark. He’s in deeper than he was when he won the games. He’s now taken to arranging the games and acting as the Host following the original mastermind's death. He has continuously run the games for several years. It’s now 2024. Your doctor was set free and sent back home before her due date after all the precautions were taken to ensure she couldn’t find or disclose the location of the island, including having her being closely monitored by the pink guards, ready to shoot her dead and dispose of her body if she ever spoke out. But she’s kept quiet and gone along with the story that you and In-ho are dead, because of you. Because of you, she’s still alive and got to have her baby. And you? You’re still on the island. You understand that recovery for your condition could sometimes take more than a year, but you’ve been here nearly ten years. You can’t leave without his permission. You’ve tried more than once. Rather than tell you there’s no life for you to go back to since the world thinks you’re both dead, he keeps you here for so long by lying to you over and over and over. If he told you the truth, how could he admit to any of it without losing you? It’s his duty to protect you, the love of his life. Even if it’s painful. This relentless drive to get what he wants was apparent even before becoming the Front Man, as there were many self-help books on achieving one's desires in his old apartment.

But disruptions to his facilitation of the 36th iteration of the games have forced his hand to resort toward more drastic measures. As retaliation for Gi-hun's continued defiance against him for three years, he repeatedly tries to break him by forcing him to participate in the game. He joins the games specifically to break Gi-hun's spirit, and intentionally works his way into his inner circle, with no indication that he truly sees him as a friend, all to successfully sabotage his efforts to bring the game down by force. When Gi-hun's rebellion is successfully suppressed, the Front Man spares his life while personally ordering the execution of Jung-bae in front of him and telling him it’s the consequence of trying to play the hero. At the same time he’s undercover as a player, he’s still fulfilling his duties as your husband through proxy, having the pink guards give you whatever you need and keeping an eye on you so you don’t learn too much. He’s hidden the remote control he uses to watch the games on the big screen so you won’t know. But what if you’re stronger, smarter, and more resilient than you let on and manage to gather very valuable information by eavesdropping on In-ho’s conversations by feigning being asleep whenever he checks on you, sneaking away and stealthing around the building, etc., all to slowly discover the horrific truth your husband so desperately has kept hidden from you for the last ten years?

13. Like above with The Recruiter, a scenario very much like the Korean thriller movie “Addicted”. You’re the long time girlfriend of Jun-ho and get married. While he and In-ho are very different as people, and the only thing they really have in common is that they’re both cops, they are very close despite only being stepbrothers. You’ve also been very close to In-ho, though you always thought of your relationship as strictly friendly due to him being your brother-in-law and himself having a wife that you believe he loves. You’re there for In-ho and his wife when she gets sick and she views you as a sister not just because of your relation as sister-in-laws but because you’re always there to support her and do what you can to care for her and comfort her, from little things to big things, especially whenever In-ho is away due to his job. He and his wife can always count on you. You visit her more in the hospital than her own husband does. You’re the only other person besides In-ho to learn of her pregnancy and when she confides in you about it, she swears you to secrecy in case the worst happens. She tells you that in case she dies, she doesn’t want Jun-ho or his parents to know and feel even worse. In-ho tries to get you to talk to his wife, to try to convince her to change her mind and terminate the pregnancy, but she’s stubborn and won’t listen to anyone, not even you, despite your pleads that In-ho is only worried for her health and she can always try again after she’s better. Sometime in 2015, In-ho goes missing for a week. Neither you, Jun-ho, or his wife can get a hold of him. You’re all worried. You were always concerned for his safety while on the job and even his wife asked him not to be away from home so much anymore, but he’s just as stubborn as she was. You can understand that he needed more money to help her, but you grew concerned that he was putting himself at risk. And when she worsens and later succumbs to her acute cirrhosis, you’re devastated. Even more so when In-ho returns home and you have to break the news to him. You’re there for In-ho, taking him through the worst of his grief. In subsequent years, he asks you to go with him when he visits his wife’s grave on her death day to bring her fresh flowers, etc.

But then he goes missing again. For real this time.

Your husband becomes so obsessed with finding In-ho that he neglects you. You don’t divorce, but your marriage is deteriorating and while a part of you still loves him, the spark is slowly flickering out. You feel less like a wife and more like a single woman as time goes on. With a heavy heart, you carry on with your life and try to move on and find ways to be happy despite all the loss you’ve suffered. But your depression worsens when your husband stops coming home and stops answering your calls. It’s like he’s also vanished into thin air, exactly like In-ho. You can barely stand to be in your house anymore and often spend time outside or in hotels. One night, you have to hail a taxi when your car breaks down. The speeding taxi crashes into a black van, and while the driver is seriously injured, possibly even killed on impact, you’re only knocked unconscious with minor injuries.

Unbeknownst to you, this is a deliberate and orchestrated car crash, part of a plan to kidnap you and bring you to an unknown island. Under the Front Man’s orders, you’re sedated during the whole transportation process. You later wake up in an unfamiliar room, strapped down to a bed. You freak out, but freeze in shock when In-ho enters the room and comes to your bedside. He looks older, which is to be expected since you haven’t seen him in over five years, but it’s definitely him. He calms you down from your lashing out and panic attack, explaining the situation in a way that’ll keep you in the dark about what’s really going on but also serve his ulterior motives for why he brought you here. He takes care of you while you recover from the minor injuries you suffered in the collision, nothing major besides a concussion and a minor head wound and other scrapes and bruises. He tells you a fabricated but believable story about why he went missing, which includes that Jun-ho is dead, that he was shot and fell into the sea while on a job. To “prove it” he shows you doctored but eerily convincing confidential police files and death records from when that random body was found with Jun-ho’s ID on him. It was so damaged it was unrecognizable in pictures. With evidence in front of you, you have no choice but to believe In-ho and everything he tells you. Still, you’re devastated by this revelation. But he swears to take you through the worst of your grief, just like you did for him when his wife was sick and died.

Years go by of you living on the island, still kept in the dark. Could be through the use of drugs to make you disoriented and confused and blurring that edge of reality, gaslighting, and other manipulation tactics. When he does take you outside his private quarters to get some fresh air, it’s always brief and he stealthily knocks you out so you don’t get a full grasp of where you really are. You never know how you got there or how you got back. It’s so subtle you hardly notice and think you just fell asleep. You and In-ho eventually share a slow, emotional night together and have sex after the tearful revelation that you’ve fallen in love. You didn’t confess to him your feelings sooner because you felt so guilty due to being married to his brother even if he’s dead and you’re a widow now, and because In-ho’s wife was like your best friend. You felt awful for “stealing” her husband even though she died and he’s a widower who suffered the same loss you did. He helps you to overcome that guilt and you start to live life together as a happy and loving couple, despite the strange and unusual circumstances. In time, you become pregnant with In-ho’s child. One day you’re not feeling well, so you decide to go back to your private quarters to get some rest after he takes you outside for fresh air. While you’re there, a package addressed to In-ho arrives. You open it and find a necklace which you remember In-ho had given to his wife. You read the accompanying note from her, saying that she cannot wear this necklace anymore as it wasn’t meant for her and she cannot understand In-ho’s crazy love for you.

Frantic, you snoop around the other doors and find an underground chamber. You dig through In-ho’s secret workroom and find a number of hidden photos of yourself that were taken by him. You realize that In-ho had loved you before you married his brother and before he married his wife. You also find a notebook that In-ho wrote about loving you and being happy because he is able to watch you and live with you through his brother, Jun-ho. Through these secret documents, you discover your husband is possibly alive, having only been shot in the shoulder by In-ho himself and fallen into the sea. He lied to you just so that he could have you to himself. You were talking about getting married because you’re so in love and you thought it’s what Jun-ho and In-ho’s wife would want, at least for the sake of your unborn child. You were so happy mere hours ago and now, you’re crying sorrowfully. You don’t know what to do with the new information you’ve uncovered. Luckily, through some miracle, you’re not caught by In-ho. You put back everything exactly the way you found it as you’ve spent enough time in his personal office at home and remembered how he organizes his things, even down to which direction he sets down the phone receiver.

Do you take him aside and ask him various questions about his wife and where you are and when you can go home? Every time you tried in the past, he’d change the subject after giving you non-definite answers. Do you continue to pretend that Jun-ho is dead and you’ve moved on despite knowing the truth? You love In-ho and you know he loves you but this…this is much more than you could’ve ever imagined. You couldn’t have ever expected this. It’s been revealed that In-ho loved you even before Jun-ho, and had for the entire time you were with his brother. In-ho also confessed in a secret letter to Jun-ho that he’d never send that he made use of all of yours and his brother's secrets to "transform" himself into the perfect man for you. He tells his brother that you will forever love him as your husband. He apologizes and asks his brother never to forgive him for his deeds.

14. In-ho’s wife managed to successfully give birth to a healthy baby girl despite dying in the process. That baby girl is you, born sometime in 2015. When In-ho returned home and went to the hospital his wife was staying in after winning the 28th annual squid games, he received the bittersweet news that his wife was dead, having died in childbirth, but that you, his baby daughter, was alive and would be fine. You were either being kept in the hospital still or staying with Jun-ho and his parents. When he saw you and held you for the first time, he almost didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to set you down or let you out of his sight. He gave you the name his wife picked. It’s now 2024 and you’re eight or nine years old. What would your life be like? Would In-ho take you with him to the island from infancy to keep you safe and under his watchful eye while he acts as Front Man/Host for the squid games because you’re the last living piece of his wife that he has and he doesn’t want to ever lose you or miss out on any milestone in your life? What would it be like, effectively being kept prisoner on the island but kept in the dark and oblivious about what he does? Having no real friends to play with except maybe the Pink Guards who are under strict orders to play with you or keep an eye on you? Or would he leave you to be raised by his parents and Jun-ho? Or would he keep your existence secret from Jun-ho and his parents and come up with a secret third option that entails you having a normal-ish life with other “family” of his that he personally arranged, but he visits you or sends you messages on a very special encrypted phone or through the mail through mysterious envelopes without return addresses on them whenever he can, even if it’s at the most random of times? Would you know he’s your father from the beginning or would you learn this fact later in life?

For a darker and more fucked up version: What if Jun-hee isn’t the first heavily pregnant player to compete in the games? Sometime during his years working as the Front Man and overseeing the games, he kept a close eye on a heavily pregnant contestant. After she was shot and killed for failing a game (the guard responsible making sure to avoid her stomach and shoot her in the head), her body was quickly loaded up into a box and taken away. The guards working in the morgue only had about ten minutes if they wanted to save the baby growing inside her. And they were under clear and strict orders by The Front Man to do so. A post-mortem c-section was performed and, when they cut her open, they pulled out a crying and screaming baby girl. The baby was cleaned up and checked by the doctor stationed on the island, then wrapped in a blanket and handed over to the Front Man per his orders/request. And that’s how you came to be his daughter. He’s your father now. And as far as you’ll ever know, he’s your biological father who solely raised you after your mother, his wife, died in childbirth from complications of acute cirrhosis of the liver.

15. Being in a poly relationship with the Front Man and The Recruiter would include? I don’t know any specific plot ideas exactly or how you got to be their personal whore/toy, but just imagine being a sugar baby or lover to both of these men that are two different flavors of DILF. You’re given everything from clothes, lingerie, and jewelry to a car and a house, as well as all the money you could ever need to pay for whatever it is you need - college tuition, medical bills, etc., even if it’s not for you but for one of your loved ones. In exchange, you’re on call for whenever either or both of them are in need of you and your services. You do whatever they ask of you, no matter what it is. Doesn’t matter what time it is, you go to them whenever they call. (Or maybe The Recruiter would go so far as to having a key to your house and letting himself in through the door or through a window, without giving you prior warning he’s coming. He comes whenever he feels like it. Could be any time of the day. And if you’re not home when he gets there, he’ll call you and tell you to get your cute ass home. Now. Then he’ll make himself comfortable in your house while he’s waiting for you. But you know that the longer you make him wait, the worse your punishment will be. Maybe a stipulation to having the house is leaving the doors and windows unlocked. If it’s late at night, he’d just sneak into your bedroom while you’re asleep and rouse you awake by going down on you or something. Classic Somnophilia.)

You either drive to them yourself or a car and/or a boat is waiting for you to be picked up. Imagine being squeezed in between these men like a sandwich or being in an Eiffel Tower with them, whether or not either or both of them are covered in blood from shooting players. (They wouldn’t care if you were on your monthly cycle. If anything, your blood would turn them on even more.) Imagine getting fucked on the hood of or inside the white limousine. Imagine them taking turns to watch while the other one fucks you. Imagine them turning fucking you into all kinds of thrilling and borderline dangerous sex games along the same vein of the actual squid games. Like they tell you do something under a time limit and if you fail and the timer runs out, they won’t kill you, but they’ll punish you sexually. And sometimes their punishments are so intense they make you wish you were dead because being denied your orgasms over and over and over is a special kind of torture and the coiling in your gut from your building orgasm that’s unable to be released is almost unbearable. What if you’ve been at this “job” so long that it gets to a point where In-ho wants to give you a “raise” and get you pregnant because he wants a child after the death of his wife and their unborn child and he may or may not have a pregnancy kink?

That is all for now. Thank you for listening to my brainrot.

#the recruiter x reader #the salesman x reader #gong yoo x reader #hwang in ho x reader #the front man x reader #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game smut #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game s2 #squid game spoilers #lee byung hun #gong yoo #squid game prompts #fic prompts #pls tag me if you’re inspired by these #I’d love to read it

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randomshyperson · 1 year ago

Text

Shameless - Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The book club forces Wanda to go to a bookstore in downtown Westview, where she meets you. Or the one where Wanda tries a new hobby and finds a reason to end her marriage.

Warnings: (+16), some dirty implications but nothing explicit, mentions of make-out, no cheating (but intent), strangers to lovers, milf-horny wanda, compulsory heterosexuality and mentions of homophobia, an attempt at the 80s scene, some angst but a happy ending. | Words: 7.525k

A/N-> I don’t know where this came from.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

The book club had been Agatha's idea.

A harmless little pastime is how she would describe it during the weekly community meeting. Some short and simple speech about how modern housewives needed distractions while their husbands were at work and the kids were at school, anything that would please the ears of the preacher and the town council enough for the men to ignore the remnants of card games or bottles of alcohol that appeared whenever Agatha organized any “ladies' meetings” - as she liked to describe it.

Wanda and almost all the other women were happy to participate - and that is, almost all of them since Dorothy had not joined anything Agatha was involved in for two years now, ever since the blonde refused to visit the nightclub that was inaugurated downtown, commenting that it was not a suitable place for family ladies, and in Wanda's opinion, missing out on one of the most fun evenings she had ever had.

This time, Agatha's new invention was weekly meetings of a book club, which for the older woman, was the perfect excuse to get away from her husband Ralph and his strong odor of cheap beer and their grumpy son who apparently didn't know how to take glasses to the sink. Two hours a week to stay off chores and focus on her friends, and as a bonus, to read and discuss the literature she would have had access to if higher education was something women were encouraged to earn.

Wanda was one of the few in the quiet Westview who had a degree - It had been a shared dream of her and her mother Natalya, who wished to see both her children off to college and it was a fortunate thing that it happened before her sad passing. The most unfair thing about that was that despite her mother's wishes for Wanda’s independence, once Natalya was gone, all that Erik did was encourage her to leave college and look for a husband, the last of which Wanda eventually gave in to in her senior year. Jarvis Vision Stark was a couple of years older than her and was completing his degree in Engineering, and to almost everyone in her class, that had to be true love. He was a good-looking young man, with a good family and education, and he seemed so in love with her. With that in mind, Wanda tried to love Vision with the same intensity that he said he did, but with the passing of the years, and the arrival of the children, the fantasy dissolved into a boring routine and conformism.

Despite those issues, her twins, Billy and Tommy, were her most precious treasure. And they were also the only thing keeping her marriage on track, Wanda dared to think.

Getting a divorce, in the traditional Christian-Jewish community of Westview, would be a scandal under any circumstances. Sometimes, when she ventured to imagine being someone with this kind of courage, Wanda could only imagine the look of disappointment on her father's face when he heard the news, and the thought was soon shoved away like dirty clothes in the washing machine.

At least Wanda had Agatha. Her long-time, trusting friend, with whom she could share torments like this, and complain about slack-jawed, obstinate husbands.

And there was also now the book club.

Westview only had one library close to home, and well, Agatha had been clear in her instructions. No cheap or religious literature, she warned with a cigarette between her lips, gesturing with one hand when one of the girls asked about what the first meeting would be like.

"Bring something interesting." Agatha suddenly gave a little smile, the same kind when she managed to bring a bottle of liquor hidden away for the Saturday church service. "Scandalous, if you dare."

They all sighed in surprise, complicit for the whole thing. Some began to whisper among themselves, but Wanda knew what she would have to do. There was nothing of the sort in Westview, so she would have to leave the residential neighborhood.

She woke up on Tuesday, dropped the kids off at school, and made breakfast. for Vision, who didn't even bother to say thank you, not happy to hear that Wanda was going out, but courteous enough to offer her a ride, which she declined almost immediately. She had the distinct impression that it was a way of being monitored, and she couldn't bear to deal with it when she was already so nervous.

Taking the bus downtown, she went straight to the new commercial village of Westview. She caught a glimpse of some neighbors, who worked in the local shops but didn't say hello to any of them.

She walked until she found a bookstore, a small, old building with carts full of books at the door and advertisements that, although scattered and colorful, were easy to understand. It was a very cozy place, which made Wanda smile for a quick fantasy about having tried to work with books after her graduation if she hadn't been pregnant at the time.

A bell rang when she entered, but no one greeted her for the first few minutes she was inside. It gave her just enough time to go to one of the nearest bookshelves and run her fingers through the rows of books, a smile playing on her lips.

"Didn't you hear the door, Pchelka (little bee)?" A voice caught her attention, and Wanda turned, trying to see between the shelves. At a glance, short, red hair attracted her eye, and she blinked to find the face of a very pretty woman offering her a gentle smile. "One minute, sweetheart. We'll be right with you."

Wanda opened her mouth to say she wasn't in a hurry, sympathetic to the number of books the redhead was carrying, but in the next second, the woman disappeared between the columns and she didn’t have a chance to say anything at all.

The bookstore remained empty and silent for another half minute, but once Wanda made mention of turning her attention back to the books behind her, a ladder opened from the ceiling, and out of it jumped a figure in an apron, and out of instinct, Wanda hopped away.

"So sorry for the scare, Miss." You apologized with a soft chuckle at the scene, closing the attic in a single motion and running your hands through your hair and shoulders in an effort to blow off some of the dust. "We are reviewing the inventory. How can I be of assistance?"

Her breath caught in her throat at the image of your gentle and playful smile. She felt so foolish. In all her 32 years, when was the last time she had been tongue-tied, if ever?

You raised one of your eyebrows, and repeated the question, bringing a new color to her cheeks. Wanda broke into a clumsy giggle at the same second.

"Sorry, you caught me by surprise." She managed to cover it up, adjusting a lock of her hair and then moving her hands to smooth her clothes, suddenly unsure what to do with herself. "I’m…looking for a book."

You cracked another smile, finding the scene quite amusing. This older, breathtaking woman, all shy and adorable around you. "Well, we have lots of those." You teased, and Wanda felt her stomach do a complete turn at the sound of your raspy giggle. Maybe she was getting sick. Yeah, that would explain her body’s out-of-control reactions. "What are you looking for, or perhaps a name...?"

"Wanda." She interrupts, and you frown in confusion. Taking a deep breath, she holds out her hand. "I am Wanda Maximoff."

Despite the strangeness of the moment and the fact that she didn't understand that you wanted the name of the book and not hers, you smiled warmly and repeated the gesture. Wanda has never hated work gloves as she does now, a curiosity burning to know what your skin would feel like on hers, the thought bringing such a strong color to her ears that she needs to look away immediately, barely catching the name that you mention next.

She clears her throat, and adds: "I'm actually joining a book club and the only guidance we had was to bring something interesting." And she risks looking you in the eye to add. "Scandalous."

You find it funny, even adorable if you could put it that way. Maybe it's because of the color of her face when she says it. Or maybe it's because these college students - Wanda judges you to be one for your apparent age - are more modern than she would have been and don't bother with this sort of subject.

"Hm, I think I can help with that." You retort with a thoughtful expression, beckoning for Wanda to follow you deeper into the store and she does so only after taking a deep breath.

The columns of poetry make her bite her lip in curiosity, some of the names Wanda recognizes from her own years as a student, but it is only when you are in the last aisle with the little gold plaque labeled "Sapphic Literature" that Wanda thinks she has stopped breathing.

You do everything very calmly. Climbing up one of the stairs, and taking some time to read the titles, you take a small book from one of the higher shelves and walk back to Wanda, whose face is almost Natasha's hair color now.

With a smile, you hold out the book, but don't let go, holding the item as she does.

"There's nothing more scandalous than this for a small town like Westview." You say. "But if it's too much, Miss Maximoff, I can always suggest something different. You know, like stuff about the first war or Russian philosophy..."

"N-no, this is fine." She interrupts you, grabbing the book strongly and pulling it close to her chest. You don't know if she's trying to hide it or keep it from fleeing, but it makes you chuckle. "Thanks for the help."

"No problem." You reply, studying that face for a moment. Wanda swallows dry but holds your gaze. You clear your throat as soon as you realize you're staring. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

She almost sighs, her knees going weak at just the line her thoughts take. Shaking her head, she offers you a small smile. "No, that will be all." She says and practically runs off to the edge of the store, back to the cashier.

The redheaded woman is taking care of the payment now, and Wanda doesn't notice the look you exchange with her because she's too busy sensing your presence coming behind her.

"Excuse me, Miss Maximoff, let me wrap this up for you." Your whisper near her ear makes her shudder from head to toe, and it is fortunate that you grab the book from her as Wanda is sure she would have dropped it on the floor.

You walking away is the only reason Wanda's legs stop shaking.

"Good choice, ma'am." Commented the attendant as soon as you put the book on the counter to be scanned. Wanda noticed the small badge spelled out in silver letters "Natasha" stuck to her apron. "We are also fond of sapphic literature around here." She added with a complicit smile. Wanda didn't understand why it seemed like a code for something, she was too distracted by the movements of your hands storing the book in a pretty bag. She remembers forcing a smile, paying with trembling fingers and practically running out of the bookstore, feeling your gaze burning into her back.

The bell made another noise on the way out, and with the bookstore empty, Natasha's laughter filled the air.

"How do you always find our people?" Questioned the other impressed, but you laughed short, shrugging.

"I won't deny that I have this ability, but in this case, how can you say? You saw her for like, three seconds."

Natasha shook her head, checking the cashier. "Oh, please, she was eye-fucking you this whole three seconds.” Declared the redhead, ignoring your protest at her choice of words. "Besides, it's kind of obvious by her not freaking out over sapphic poetry, isn't it?"

You sigh, somewhat disbelieving. "I don't know, people are more friendly nowadays." You try, but Natasha gestures away as if she doesn't agree.

"Your problem is that you're too naive, Parker." Retorted the redhead with an amused expression. "Women like me, experienced not old, are not so friendly. We come from different times, different generations. You couldn't go around reading gay literature anywhere, hardly found any to be fair. If she wasn't like us, she would have caused a scene at the mere suggestion."

"Alright, Romanoff, I believe you." You grumbled begrudgingly while grabbing one of the last boxes to be checked off the desk. "But that doesn't mean she was interested in me." You stated, but Nat snorted incredulously.

"I bet you five bucks she'll be back next week!" Retorted the redhead, but you only chuckled, letting her increase the bet as the distance grew.

-&-

A tense silence grew with every second in the crowded room.

Wanda sat there, almost not breathing until she finally realized what she had just done. Read. The room began to spin next. She gripped the pages hard enough to wreck the book in her lap, but just as panic was about to overwhelm her, someone sighed loudly.

"Well, that was definitely scandalous." It was Monica, and the good humor of the comment made the room explode into little giggles.

The girls began commenting among themselves excitedly in the same second, some still somewhat hesitant and embarrassed, but definitely thrilled about the whole thing. Wanda felt a gentle hand on the back of her back, through the exposed part of the plastic chair.

"Just breathe, Wanda, everything's fine." It was Agatha, who was still sitting next to her. Who didn't hate her for reading a passage from Emily Dickinson in the middle of the book club, who was still her best friend. Wanda only managed to mumble a weak, whiny yes, and Agatha looked at her with concern before announcing to the entire room that they would take a break before the next reading. Wanda doesn't remember getting up, but she didn't breathe normally again until on the outside balcony of the Harkness Residence. "Here, honey."

The glass of water helped, and Wanda had just returned it to Agatha when the window door opened again. It was Monica, with an almost proud smile, who spoke only after sliding the glass door closed again.

"I have to say, Wanda, you have guts." Her friend joked, and Wanda grimaced.

"What...?"

"I didn't know there were more of us in Westview, Aggie. You could have told me." Monica complained to the older woman, giving Agatha's arm a gentle pat. But the woman just smiled awkwardly, looking at Wanda as if she were seeing her for the first time.

"She never mentioned it, I'm afraid." Agatha commented, and Wanda felt like she might throw up at any moment. "Hey, breathe honey. It's okay, all right? You're safe with us."

But Wanda put a hand over her chest, feeling it tighten. "My god, what I just did... They will tell my husband... my father will hear about it-"

"Hey, Wanda, here. Focus on me, darling, breathe." Agatha grabbed her hands, trying to help her control the panic and tears that began to roll down her face. "Honey, it was just a poem. Nothing is going to happen, okay, you just brought what I asked for, and none of them minded. Nothing has changed, now breathe. You're safe, Wanda."

“Of course, I would ruin the book club.” was the first thought she had hours later when she woke up before the time to pick the boys up from soccer. She didn't have to do it though - Agatha left a little note saying that she had taken care of everything and wished her rest.

Monica drove her home so that Agatha could close the meeting without raising any more suspicions about Maximoff's state, who had had a panic attack because of a poem read aloud. If the other neighbors knew, it would create chatter, and Wanda simply couldn't handle that.

Monica left her safe and sound in her house, wrapped in blankets, and didn't mind staying until Wanda cried herself to sleep. And Wanda woke up alone, feeling worse than before as if a very embarrassing secret had been revealed to the world and was mocking her outside the bedroom walls.

But her children were back in no time, and as they rushed to the shower, she went to thank a very concerned Agatha Harkness.

"Are you feeling better, sweetheart?" Asked her friend gently holding her arm. Wanda didn't meet her eyes, nodding.

"Thank you for dropping the boys off." Murmured her quietly, swallowing before adding. "And for earlier. I didn't mean to bring any trouble."

Agatha gripped her with more determination. "Listen here, Wanda, it was no trouble at all, okay?" Assured the woman, who although in a serious tone, still had very gentle eyes. "You are my best friend, Wanda Maximoff. Nothing will ever change the care and love I feel for you. When you're ready to talk about today, about this part of you, I'll be here. And Monica too. You are not alone, honey. You never have been." There was a different complicity in the last sentence, but Wanda only sighed in relief, nodding and finally relaxing when Agatha hugged her.

She thanked her again between silent tears and Agatha only left when she was sure Wanda believed her words.

-&-

It took Wanda three weeks to return to the store. Not that you were counting, or thinking every day about the middle-aged woman who had a gay panic attack with your poor attempt at service. Not that Natasha didn't shut up about it.

And as luck would have it, you were alone in the store because your boss, who you also called a friend, was out picking up some orders and her sister at the University of New York, and well, it had been a slow day until the doorbell rang in the early afternoon and it was Wanda.

"You again." That was the first you managed to say, almost sighing and hating how affected it sounded. Luckily, Wanda seemed equally happy and relieved to see you again.

"Hello." She greeted, repeating last week's gesture of adjusting a lock of her hair. She looked different from before, more elegant, with a dark jeans jacket expensive enough to have come out of a magazine, and a dress underneath that made you swallow dry.

You had no idea how long she spent in front of the mirror trying to choose the right outfit with two neighbors weighing her choices.

Trying to play it cool and sound as casual as possible, you add: "Wanda Maximoff from the book club, right? Did they like the poems?"

She hesitated in a nervous smile, looking around as if to check if there were no other customers and satisfied with the distant presence of a boy in the Vinyl's Discs area and a lady further down the hall, as she practically whispered, "You were right. It was scandalous enough for Westview." She teased, managing to get a short laugh out of you that made her stomach do flips and her cheeks turn a rosy hue. It was decided, she wanted to hear the sound again and would do anything to be the one to make you laugh.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that." You retort with a little smile. "I hope you enjoyed the book too, though." Your addiction makes Wanda's heart skip a beat. So you cared if she was the person who enjoyed the reading, it wasn't all about a professional suggestion on how to make an impact on the book club as she presumed. Well, Agatha was right.

Risking, probably everything, Wanda commented: "Oh, I definitely loved the reading. I had a good time imagining the scenarios she described." Despite the confidence in saying it, she was blushing, and the way she spoke as if a secret between the two of you and with your knowledge of how erotic Emily Dickinson's stories were, was the reason you knock over half the stack of books you were trying to organize onto the floor.

The noise attracted the attention of the other customers, but you forced a smile and gestured that everything was fine before you ducked down, quickly beginning to pick everything up while Wanda looked at you with a certain amusement, as if she had just confirmed a theory.

"Sorry. You caught me off guard." You mutter in embarrassment, and Wanda chuckles, ducking down as well. She helps you with the last of the fallen books, and in the gesture of returning them, your hands rub together and the whole world stops for a second. Just long enough for you to look at her, and then to step away at once, clearing your throat. Wanda does the same, and before you have a chance to say anything, the record customer interrupts you.

It has to be the most annoying sale you've ever made. He stalls you for long minutes, and all you can do is watch out of the corner of your eye as Wanda slips further into the back of the bookstore, and you lose sight of her. To make matters worse, when the man finally leaves, familiar vehicle parks in the back of the store, and less than five minutes later, two figures with heavy boxes appear.

Yelena has gotten a haircut, and you have a moment of shock to deal with that. The next, she is making a terrible impression on the other customer in the store, the cookbook lady, who immediately grimaces as soon as your friend practically jumps on you. Whether it's the display of affection or Yelena's tattoos and rebellious posture, the woman leaves the store muttering lowly.

You pay no attention to this, grinning as you match Yelena's hug before she lets go of you.

"сука, next time you lock up the semester, at least stop at the dorm to smoke with us!" Complained your friend as she leaned on the counter where she had left her magazine supply box. Natasha dropped hers with a tired grunt, and once the books were secured, she gave a warning slap on the feet that Yelena threatened to put on a shelf.

"There won't be a next time." Natasha answers for you. "She's giving up for good."

Yelena lets out an exclamation, but you grimace. "That hasn't been decided, Romanoff." You defend yourself. "I just needed more time. I think I'll just switch vocations. Again."

Natasha giggled, but Yelena patted you on the shoulder. "Hey, don't look so down. I also think about quitting Fashion every week, and every week I remind myself that no one is as talented as Yelena Belova and the world must not be deprived of my masterpieces." The comment makes you and Natasha laugh and roll your eyes.

The redhead pushes her sister by the shoulders away from the counter. "You said you came here to work, not get in Parker's way. Find something to do-"

"Oh, sure, I'll get us some coffee." Yelena interrupts, letting go of her sister's hands. She points a finger at you. "Cappucino or-"

"Sorry." Wanda's interruption makes the three of you look at her at once. She is intimidated, but only for a split second. Forcing a smile, she raises the book she holds at face height. "I was hoping to take this one."

You take an awkward step forward, and it is enough for Yelena to acquire an expression as if she just has won the lottery. Busy taking care of Wanda's purchase, you don't even notice the sisters' exchange of glances.

As you wrap up the book, you try to disguise the trembling in your hands.

"I couldn't really thank you for the recommendation." Wanda speaks suddenly. You smile awkwardly, holding out the bag with the book on the counter.

"It was no trouble at all, Wanda." But she extends her hand over yours, and your heart stops.

"I really appreciated it, sweetheart." That's what Wanda says, stroking your skin with her thumb. "We have meetings every week, and maybe, you could join us in the next…"

You opened your mouth like a fish, babbling like a fool and completely in shock at the invitation of the most beautiful woman you have ever seen in your life. “I-I…”

"Would love to, of course." Yelena elbowed you so hard that you pulled your hand away from Wanda’s to massage the spot. She offered her worst-intention smile to Wanda, the kind she only used at college parties when she wanted guys who would never have a chance with her to buy her drinks. "She's a first-rate nerd, she'll love it, ma'am. I’m Yelena, by the way. My sister, Natasha, is the owner here. And since we’re talking about hanging out, did you know that we do friends' reunions around here? You're more than welcome to join us."

Wanda adjusts awkwardly, a little surprised. "Oh, what kind of reunion?"

Yelena sighs thoughtfully, shrugging. "Well, I don't want to call it a college party, because even though we're all college students, it's not done on NYU grounds and is reserved for fewer people and the drinking is much better..."

Chuckling short, and adjusting the bag on her wrist, Wanda denies it with her head. "It's a kind invitation, but I think I'm too old for such things."

"What nonsense!" Yelena retorts gesturing indignantly. “ "With all due respect, such a beautiful woman will completely enhance the party. And well, my sister always attends with her friends, and you must be the same age..." You bite the inside of your cheek hard, you love your friend but she is charming and beautiful and is clearly flirting with Wanda to annoy you. Wanda blushes, and Yelena knows she's won this one. Emerald eyes search yours, and you find that the one who might have won is actually you.

"Will you be there?" She asks, and having trouble hiding a smile, you nod. With a sigh, Wanda looks at the expectant blonde beside you. "I think I could show up for a little bit-"

"That's fantastic!" Yelena gets excited, not even waiting for Wanda to confirm before she ducks down on the counter and finds one of the invitations to these parties that Natasha hides near the cashier.

You barely had a chance to say goodbye to Wanda, with Yelena and her party directions, but at least you had confirmation that the woman would be there for the last weekend of the month, the typical date when those meetings were organized. And the realization had you sliding to the floor behind the counter with one hand on your chest.

"My god I think I'm having an anxiety attack-"

"No, that's a gay outburst triggered by a hot milf." Yelena cut in with a roll of her eyes, crossing her arms as she approached you again. "You gonna have to put it together, 'cause we need to pick out what you're going to wear next week, on your hot date with her.”

You're as red as a tomato. "It's not a date! It's a book club!"

Natasha - who hadn't said anything about the interaction until now - burst out laughing, and teased "Hm, that's what young people are calling it these days."

"You two are terrible." You complained embarrassed, shaking your head in disbelief at the giggling sisters. "We don't even know if she's interested."

Natasha chuckled. "Of course she is. Sapphic poetry the first week, and now she comes back just to stroke your hand. Yes, Parker, everyone saw that. If that's not interest, I don't know what else to call it."

Sighing in defeat at the sisters' complicit gaze, you stood up again. "Let me get back to work." You grumbled, but still, Yelena followed you with thousands of ideas about what you could wear.

-&-

Book club sessions allow you to get to know Wanda better. And inevitably fall in love with her as you never had with anyone else, at least not at that intensity.

Unfortunately, a meeting full of middle-aged women with a certain willingness to gossip about any subject, especially the unusual friendship of the young college student from downtown with one of the most respectable ladies in the neighborhood put practically a watch on your back. All your moments with Wanda, stolen touches and long glances between snacks and reading verses for the next few weeks came burdened with the worry, especially for her, that the rest of the world could see all too well what was going on between you two.

And there was also the great frustration that in fact, nothing was actually happening. Aside from the undeniable attraction and warm affection you developed for each other, you were just book club buddies. You couldn't even call Wanda a friend, in fact, you wouldn't want to. All you knew about her family was Agatha or Monica telling you, the other was limited to any other subject but this one.

Pretending not to know or just accepting that Wanda had a life beyond the safety of your afternoons together hurt all the same.

Your only hope of progress for what was happening came at the end of the month, with the arrival of the reunion date between your friends. It was the most intimate event Wanda could attend and you had a feeling there would be no going back for whatever might happen that night.

The Thunderbolts was what the group of friends you and Yelena were part of called themselves since the beginning of college. And unlike Peter and Kate, or even the freshmen, America and Kamala, who were all set on what profession they would follow after graduation, you had already dropped three courses in total. Starting out in medical school as your parents would have liked, switching to applied biology with Peter until you tried computer science with America, you finally dropped out to work with books with Natasha. It was the closest thing to happiness, even if it meant lousy pay.

But ignoring this, what was certain about you and the Thunderbolts was that you guys knew how to throw a decent party.

The loud music didn't escape much from the top floor of the store because two years ago Natasha had gotten glassware with sound isolation for the rehearsals of the Red Skulls - her ex-girlfriend Carol Danvers' rock band - that kept neighbors from calling the police.

The drinking was taken care of by Natasha's friends, and well, it was always good stuff. There was also plenty of food and lots of weed, grown naturally in T'Challa's private greenhouses.

It was a college party, there was no denying it, but still, you went up to the roof, waiting for a woman twice your age who had a wedding ring mark on her finger.

Wanda almost didn't show up, and when she did, she was accompanied by a very beautiful woman.

Natasha also had a thing for older women and was half drunk, a dangerous combination. Since Wanda was your flirt, the Romanoff wasted no time in approaching the other one, who introduced herself as Agatha Harkness and was more than happy to accompany the redhead on her tour of the studio apartment that made up the second and third floors of the bookstore.

You were trying to remain calm and mannerly around Wanda, but it was almost impossible not to become a mess when she was absurdly gorgeous in her half-open social shirt, smelling fucking good from yards away.

As the night wore on and you both struggled to stay included in conversations with other people you knew - from Steve and his military school stories to Kate and her hilarious jokes - you began to wonder whether you were getting drunk on beer or on Wanda's perfume in your senses.

Fleeing back to the roof in the hopes of getting some air, you were about to consider leaving the party when Wanda found you again.

"I lost you for a second down there." She commented as she approached, hugging her body to the cold night around you. Your natural instinct would be to take off your jacket, but it suddenly seemed too intimate.

"Now you've found me." You returned with a small smile, glancing at her when she got close enough, only to find that she was already looking at you.

Swallowing dryly, you grew shy about her intense gaze and shifted to the hands she was smoothing on the ledge beside you. Wanda just stood there, close enough to touch until she leaned in a little to whisper.

"Did I do something to upset you? You're hiding from me."

Closing your eyes for a moment, you sighed before risking a look at her. "Agatha told me about your marriage." You state sincerely, and Wanda swallows dryly. "I'm not stupid, and I'm no good with games either. There's a husband, so I just won’t get involved. I'll only get hurt-"

"I'm very attracted to you." Wanda cut in, also decreasing the distance between your faces. Your heart simply stops and your breath catches. If she kissed you now, you'd probably say thank you. With a sigh, Wanda brings a hand to the collar of your shirt, pushing you away gently as a warning to herself. "She didn't lie. Agatha. I have a family, children, and a husband."

It was like a bucket of cold water on your head. But Wanda didn't let you move, keeping her grip on your shirt, and this was probably the only thing holding your tears too.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you since we met." She continues to confess as affected as you are, her green eyes desperate and hopeful. "I haven't felt this way in such a long time..."

But you choked, pulling away. "I don't want to be some game, Wanda. Some secret. And I hate to share-"

"Oh, darling we're so alike." She interrupted a short, possessive chuckle, grabbing your wrist and putting your arm around her before you could move further. The attraction was almost liquid over your limbs, pulling you towards her and you gasped, pressing your face into her collarbone before you lost control for good and take her for yourself in this roof, damn the consequences. "I thought your friend Yelena was more. My skin itched at the thought of her touching you, I almost came back here and burned the entire bookstore." She confessed in your ear as she slipped her arm around your shoulders to hug you. The intense embrace increased your heart rate, and it didn't help that Wanda was playing with the lobe of your ear between her teeth.

"Stop saying things like that or I just might..."

"What? Tell me what you’ll do with me." Wanda challenges equally affected and you lose it, digging your teeth into her collarbone and sucking hard. She whimpers, knees buckling as her hips thrust up towards yours, but all you do is force her back against the edge, your firm hands on her waist keeping her from gridding herself on you as she wants to.

"I could fuck you right here, Wanda. Send you home smelling of dirty sex." You assure her darkly, your hands playing dangerously on the limits of her blouse. All Wanda does is groan rusky in your ear, wishing you would do as you say. “I bet you’ve waiting for me to.”

The smug phrase almost takes her sanity completely: Wanda grunts needily, trying to grab your wrist and force your hand between her legs, but you pull away hard, leaving her a slack mess trying to balance on wobbly legs with the help of the wall.

"I won’t be your mistress, Wanda Maximoff." You warn hoarsely, yet determined. You adjust your messy hair. "Sorry, but this little game of ours ends tonight."

Wanda hesitates, biting her lip. You hold up your hands, to point at the ring finger, reminding her of her condition and in a way, mocking her as well. Wanda hates the way she feels herself throb between her legs because of your smirk.

She thinks she would have gone after you if Agatha hadn't appeared on the roof, reminding her with a certain irony that it was time for “respectable ladies” to go home.

In the car, her friend noticed her quiet, sulky posture.

"Did that girl say anything to spoil your evening, dear?" Harkness asked in a mixture of curiosity and concern, and all Wanda could do was let out a wry laugh, one hand adjusting her hair.

"No, Aggie." Wanda retorted sincerely. "I'm more sure than before about what I told you last week."

Agatha hummed in understanding, remaining silent for a long moment of thought. As she passed a sign toward the residential neighborhood of Westview, she spoke:

"I know a lawyer. Miss Walters. Divorce specialist." She began, ignoring the tense posture the other had acquired. “Former family friend, who always said that if I called, she would give me a special discount. Ralph owns the house, so splitting from him would have meant goodbye to Westview, and well, he never bothered me enough to lose you."

Wanda's eyes widen as she understands what her friend is saying, and she stares at her with tears in her eyes. But Agatha smiles through the mirror reflection, shrugging.

"Nicholas may be a difficult boy, but he also deserved to have a mother around." She continues. "And we have fun, you and me and the girls, don't we darling?"

Wanda agrees tearfully, nodding. Agatha chuckles, making the last turn and the landscape becomes several little houses alike.

"Just make a decision while you have time, dear." She continues a bit more hurriedly, stealing glances at the houses that still have lights on. "That beautiful woman today, Natasha, reminded me of a youth I sacrificed. I am old, Wanda. Affairs are fun, but I no longer have time to start a life with someone I really care about. You do, and you don't even have to. You have a chance to be with someone you really feel passionate about, if only for a week."

Agatha parked the car, and the porch light came on. Vision was waiting for her at the door, a half-stern expression due to the exit he didn't agree with - An unusual pastime for a family lady, they had discussed before she left.

With a sigh, she said goodbye to Agatha and got out of the car. Jennifer Walters' phone card was in her pants pocket.

It could take four to five weeks of staring at the bookstore doorbell to finally see the face you wanted to see enter that bookstore. You would be surprised enough that Wanda looked even more beautiful since the last time you saw her, and that this almost made you lose your balance on the ladder you had climbed to organize books on the top shelf.

This time Wanda would ask for a book in the law section, just for the entertainment of studying your reaction when, after demanding that you wait for her to find what she was looking for, she would press a book on divorce against your chest. Wanda would have just over five seconds for you to understand what she was getting at, before she was pressed into the shelf and grabbed by the thighs to be lifted into the air, your mouth glued to hers and her legs locked around you.

The messiest, hottest make-out session she never had as a teenager, but it would make her feel like one again. Hands determined and curious as your tongue ripped out sounds inappropriate for a bookstore, until the bell rang again, and you had to part in gasping breaths.

Wanda would grab your shirt collar before you could go to meet the customer in the lobby to ask you out on a date. On the first date, you could talk about her children, about how the joint custody was going to work out, and how much time you would have to get to know each other. On the second you could go out to eat, and on the third Wanda would feel your fingers on the back seat of the car on the drive home.

Wanda imagined all this on the way, twisting the lawyer's paper between her fingers.

"Welcome home, Wanda." Vision greeted her, giving her room to enter. Wanda forces a smile, as she removes her hand from her pocket to pass her arm around her spouse for what would probably be the last hug she would give him as his wife. “Did you have fun?”

“I did.”

-&-

It's your night shift.

Natasha has a habit of closing early on weekdays, with the exception of Fridays where she allows reading shifts for all the sleepless geeks, as she calls all the late readers who come to the bookstore after six in the evening.

The day has been quiet so far, and well, you've been too depressed for the past weeks since you decided to move on and get over Wanda Maximoff.

So of course when the bell rings and you lift your eyes from a superhero comic, it's her at the door.

A weary sigh escapes you at the almost apologetic expression of the woman fidgeting with her scarf, and without giving her some other reaction, you lower your eyes again.

"Good evening, Y/N." She greets politely, her voice hoarse.

Turning the page, as if actually reading the words crammed in front of you, you retort, " We're closing soon, so make it quick."

A smile plays on her lips at your response. "Well, I guess that'll be up to you." She retorts, and you frown in confusion, looking up only to watch Wanda turn the sign from open to closed, and lock the door.

You feel your face warm from the lust glint her eyes acquire, but you manage to raise an eyebrow.

"Don't tell me you came all this way to murder me."

She chuckles playfully, approaching at a slow pace while her hands work to remove her coat and leave it on top of one of the endless stacks of books in the reception area. "Is the place empty?"

You bite your lip as she puts on a show to remove her gloves, almost losing the train of thought. "Not really." You mumble, catching the other woman's brief disappointment and hesitation. Closing the comics in your lap to store them under the counter, you clear your throat. "There's an employee area behind this door." You let her know in a husky tone, and Wanda glances behind your shoulder for a moment before stepping around the counter.

You hold your breath at having her so close now, but she doesn't break the short distance between your faces, leaning in to touch the doorknob. You take a deep breath, and her free hand seeks yours in your lap.

She entwines your fingers together and it takes you a full moment to notice the ring missing in hers. Wanda smiles when she realizes you understand.

"I signed the papers this morning." She whispers it as a secret between you, stroking the back of your hand with her thumb and enjoying the way your skin feels warm. "I was going to write, to let you know, but I decided I wanted you to have me entirely."

You swallow dry, shuddering at the confession. "Oh, that's... nice to know." It's all you manage for the moment, surprised you can still hear her speak when your heart is so loud in your own ear drums. Wanda bites back a mischievous smile and opens the door.

"Come, you can show me how much you appreciate my fairness."

You feel your face burn and grunt in embarrassment. "You're so full of yourself." You mumble, not resisting the tug she gives to get you inside.

Barely inside when the door closes behind you, your back hits the wood and desperate hands tug your uniform jacket open. Wanda's gasping breaths mingle with yours as she kisses you roughly.

Her hands work at your belt, but you slow the frantic pace to something so intense and intimate that Wanda melts against you, a moment later green eyes staring up at you tearfully.

"I didn't lie." You begin to explain hoarsely. "There are three customers in the café. They'll notice if we... There's no rush, Wanda." You smile at her tenderly, your hands on her cheeks. "Have dinner with me tonight. You can walk me home."

Her eyes sparkle with happiness, and Wanda nods in agreement, kissing you as a promise. One she will never be ashamed to fulfill, doesn't matter if not even the law allows it.

#elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff oneshots #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader

1K notes · View notes

logoleptic-since-06 · 2 months ago

Text

Love Thorns All Over This Rose

✮ Pairing: Satoru x Fem!Reader

✮ Content: Fem!Reader, Non-Sorcerer AU, College Setting, Mentions of Family and Financial Issues, Mentions of Other JJK Characters, Language, Smut (Fingering, Cunillingus), Slight Angst, Fluff, Dislike to Love, Mentions of Smoking, Slowburn, Not Proofread

Based On This Concept I Made

✮ A/N: I know I said I will not be writing fics for the concepts I made, but I love this trope too much to not have written it.

★ ♫ ★ ♫ ★ ♫ ★ ♫ -> Some songs this was inspired by (I know I listen to white girl music, what about it?) ✮ Also heavily inspired by the book The Deal by Elle Kennedy.

✮ Word Count: 4.6k

MDNI

“This was your last chance, Gojo, I’m gonna have to revoke your captaincy.”

“Please, coach,” Satoru’s usual cocky tone was replaced with desperation, “One more chance, please. My econ test scores came out today, and I’m confident I did well. Just consider this for once.”

Coach Yaga pauses for a second, “Listen, kid, I will consider it for now, but it’s really not on me. College rules say athletes can’t have more than three F’s. And according to that, I should bench you till you get your grades up.”

His eyes widen. “What? No, you can’t bench me, I’m your best player!”

“You know it doesn’t matter.”

“Fuck…” he murmurs in frustration. His econ test, that he has already given, is his last straw. If he fucks this one up, he will be benched until he gets his grades up. Basketball tournament season is right around the corner, and being in his senior year of college means his professional recruitments will start this season. Being benched is far from an option he wants to go for.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

He fails.

He fucking fails the test that he was so sure he’d pass.

“And then he benched me,” he groans as he finishes telling the story to his friend group/housemates/teammates. He looks at Suguru, his oldest and closest friend, “Oh, and he made you the captain for the time being, by the way.”

Suguru simply shrugs. “Then get your grades up and re-secure your spot. I won’t even be going pro, you need this.”

"We are all rooting for you, Gojo," Haibara's over-enthusiastic voice speaks. Haibara and Nanami are in their junior year, and Haibara is probably Satoru and Suguru's biggest hype-man, despite playing in the same team.

“I’ve tried, you know I have. I don’t know what else to-” Satoru stops as an idea strikes his head. He tilts his head towards Nanami, “Hey, Nanami.” “No,” he says simply.

“I didn’t even-”

“Whatever you ask, no.” “Tutor me, you’re like the only smart person I know.” “I’m your junior.”

“We have the same course, we study the same thing in the same class.”

“Fuck, you’re such a manchild,” Shoko’s bored voice speaks as she takes a puff from her cigarette.

“Don’t smoke in our house,” Satoru scolds her, causing her to flip him off.

“Although,” Shoko sits up from laying against the couch, “I might have someone that can help you. My roommate.”

Shoko doesn’t live with the others, but Satoru has never heard of her roommate before. “Your roommate, huh?” he repeats lazily.

Nanami snorts, “Y/N? She’s in my year and I doubt she’ll ever help him.”

Shoko nods, “You can try if you’re desperate enough.” She takes another puff of her cigarette. “Offer her tons of money.”

Satoru thinks for a second, “She can be convinced using money? That’s perfect, I have money.”

Everyone except Haibara rolls their eyes.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Having finished your last assignment of the day, you relax back against your chair, taking in the hushed ambience of the library. It was a stressful, but productive day. You only relax for a split second before a wave of anxiety gushes over you– you’ve recently lost your job at the local barista due to it being shut down. It was the only place close to the campus you can get a job at, and there is no way you could afford a living on campus without a job.

You decide to get up and head to your dorm room instead of musing upon your issues. As you begin to pack your things into your tote bag, you see a tall, white-haired figure sit across from you at the table with a bright smile on his face that shows off his dimples.

Satoru Gojo?

The star athlete is Shoko’s childhood best friend. Ever since she became your roommate in your freshman year as a sophomore, you’ve only heard tales of him and Suguru Geto. You’ve seen them around the campus, of course, but you’ve always chosen peace over any interaction with them. People flock around them like a group of fans rushing over to buy tickets for a sold-out concert. Arrogance seeps out of him every time he walks through a door, making every head turn towards him.

“Hi,” he says, looking straight into you. You look behind you, trying to see if he is talking to someone else. “No, I’m talking to you. Y/N, right?”

The sound of your name in his voice sounds weird. How did he know who you were?

He continues, “I am–”

“I know who you are.” You cut him off for a reason that is unknown to even yourself. He tilts his head in confusion, but you can tell it's not from the knowledge of you knowing his name but rather from the fact that you are wearing an annoyed expression on your face right now. You almost feel bad but it's not like you can help it, you just lost your job and it is not easy for a girl from a middle class family to survive in this environment filled with some of the richest brats in the city, Satoru Gojo included.

“I need your help.” Every word that comes out of his mouth sounds so foreign, you wouldn’t have imagined them in your wildest dreams.

“My help?” Why is he talking to you?

“I need you to tutor me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“We are in the same classes together. I need someone to tutor me because I’m failing my classes and if I’m benched and won’t be able to play until I pass them. And if I don’t play this season, I won’t be recruited to go pro, so basically my entire future is in your hands.”

Your disturbed grimace is probably a little too noticeable, because the next words that come out of his mouth are, “Why are you making that face?” He says it with such innocent confusion, you almost give in.

“I don’t even know you,” you finally say, your voice sounds bored.

“But you are the best I can find.”

“Why can’t you hire a professional tutor?”

“Because then my parents will know, and they can’t know.”

“That’s not my problem.” “God, you’re insufferable,” he exasperates, “I’ll pay. A lot.”

That gets your attention. You raise an eyebrow. “How much?”

He sits up and excitedly takes a piece of paper and pen, writes down an amount, and slides the paper towards you.

One look at the paper and your eyes go wide. He wrote an hourly rate and as you do the quick math in your head, you realize this would pay twice the amount you got as a barista.

You clear your throat before speaking. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he says firmly.

“And you will cooperate?”

“Of course, I need this, Y/N.” Will you ever get used to your name on his tongue?

“When and where?”

“Five days a week, so all working days. My house? It’s off campus. Give me your number, I’ll send you the location.” “I know where you live, I’ve dropped Shoko off to yours before. And yeah it works.”

“Great! Thanks so much, Y/N; you’re a lifesaver.” In the blink of an eye, he gets up and leaves you stranded at the library table.

Lifesaver… The word echoes through your head. You’ve been called that so many times, it doesn’t even mean anything anymore. You’ve been a lifesaver to your classmates for sharing your homework with them, or giving them answers during a test; you’ve been a lifesaver to your parents when you volunteered to look after your younger siblings, or when took care of dinner; you’ve been a lifesaver to your siblings for helping them study, or for solving any problem they’ve had.

Even now, as you study in an elite university where the annual tuition is more than what your family earns in a year, you push yourself to work hard and maintain a scholarship, and work two jobs while simultaneously being a full-time student– just so you don’t have rely on someone else for anything, even if they’re your parents.

At least Satoru Gojo is willing to pay you a good amount for being a so-called ‘lifesaver’. Sure, there was a time when you thought money couldn’t buy you happiness, but spending so much time amongst your classmates made you realize it’s quite the opposite. Money brings you respect and recognition, and one day, you will have both of them, you are sure of it. For now, you are at peace with the fact that you are nothing but a phantom made up of invisible smoke, haunting the hallways until someone needs her.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

The next day, you find yourself on the doorstep of your new student’s house. You shake off your unwanted anxiety and ring the doorbell. A few moments later, the door opens, revealing a tall figure with long luscious dark hair.

Suguru Geto, certified asshole number two (one is Gojo, of course). He looks down at you with a slight smirk. Seriously, what’s so funny? He motions you to come in.

“Satoru’s upstairs in his bedroom,” he drawls.

“Can you call him?”

He pauses for a second before answering, “Sure thing.” His gaze doesn’t avert from you as he calls out his name. Why is he so ominous? Why is Shoko friends with them?

Gojo comes out of his bedroom and stands by the stairway as he calls you up enthusiastically. You head upstairs and he leads you to his lavish bedroom and closes the door behind the two of you.

“So,” he says as he plops down on his bed, “Where do we start?”

“Let’s go through your assignments first.”

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

After an hour of tutoring, Satoru is officially done with his first tutoring session. He thinks you are a little odd with your bored yet annoyed expressions, yet he can’t stop but think you’re cute. He clearly gets the vibe that you aren’t the biggest fan of his as whenever he asked you a question about anything other than studies in the past hour, you had simply glared at him. It is also clear that you have no interest in his basketball games whatsoever.

It is also clear that you have no interest in his basketball games whatsoever. Since every question that he asks you about basketball is also either met with a glare or a “Finish this first, then we’ll talk.”

Your annoyance doesn’t matter to Satoru– if anything, he’s loving the fact that he’s getting on your nerves. It isn’t just you– annoying people has always been his specialty. Despite being the captain and the strongest player, his cheery demeanor is always met with eye rolls or groans of displeasure.

Sure, girls around him would die to be with him– even for a moment– but if it’s not for sleeping around, he isn’t quite ever wanted. He tells himself he is okay with it, that if they don’t want him, he will turn himself into someone they need. Which is exactly what he did; and now, without him, the team will fall apart.

Once the tutoring session is over, he hits you with a similar question, a cheeky grin plastered on his beautiful face. “So, you ever been to any of our games?”

“No,” you answer simply.

“Why not?”

“I’m not interested in sports.”

“None at all?”

“None at all.”

“What ECAs did you have in highschool?” You look up at him. “I had plenty. Why do you wanna know?”

He shrugs. “Curiosity.” You sigh. “I was in the debate club, I worked for the school magazine, hosted multiple events, wrote articles, did internships, signed up for a bunch of award programs.”

Satoru’s eyes go wide. “And your SATs?”

“1560.”

Fuck. Satoru back in highschool was even bigger of a menace than he is now. With an SAT score of 1230 and basketball as the only ECA, it almost seems unfair to him now that both you and him are in the same university– one earned while the other given. Satoru never feels bad for exploiting his family’s money, after all, that’s the only thing they are willing to give him. But seeing someone work this hard– even harder than Nanami– to get to where they are is something Satoru can’t help but be impressed by.

And Satoru isn’t one to be impressed easily.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

A few weeks pass in a breeze and the air now carries the hint of winter, the first fall of snow just around the corner. Students are locked inside their rooms, their heads buried in textbooks trying to prepare for the upcoming exams.

“You better pass this one, Gojo,” you tell him one day as you both are sitting in his room.

“Yes, ma’am.” He makes a salute gesture, causing you to stifle a small smile.

“I don’t wanna be that person, but why don’t you smile much?” His question takes you aback. “I’m not saying you should smile more; do whatever you want. I’m just asking why.”

You shrug simply, the guards you have around you have weakened a little in the past few weeks, but they’re not completely shattered. “I don’t smile without a reason.”

“I crack jokes.”

“You’re not funny.”

He rolls his eyes with a slight smirk tugging up his mouth.

You check the time and your eyes widen. “How long have I been here for?”

He leans back against his chair, “Almost three hours.”

“Shit, I was gonna call Shoko to come pick me up.”

He laughs when he hears that. “Yeah, good luck with that. It’s exam season, she definitely has her phone turned off right now.” Catching the worried expression on your face, he adds, “Do you want me to drop you off?”

You think for a while, trying to figure out other possibilities. Once you fail to do so, you feel your guards cracking a little more as you answer, “Okay.”

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

The drive from his house to your campus dorm is a short one. Yet, something in you makes you want to stir up a conversation.

“So what made you start playing basketball?”

His eyes don’t drift from the road when he answers. “You know my dad, right? He was a professional basketball player. It’s all I’ve known ever since I can remember.”

You won’t admit it out loud, but you are impressed to see him be so passionate about something. “So, you’re close to your dad?”

The chuckle he lets out sounds almost bitter. “No, no, I’m not. I was sent to a boarding school when I was very young. Grew up there. Met Suguru and Shoko. Been home very less. My school’s coach was more of a father figure than my own dad ever was.”

Something pangs in your chest as you let his words sink in. “I’m sorry…”

“Nah, don’t be. It’s cool, you know? My parents were too busy with their own lives, I was busy with mine– it’s just what I’m used to.”

“So you don’t contact them?”

“When I need something, sure.” He pauses for a second. “I know what you think of me, okay?” His voice has a hint of sincerity now. “You think of me as some spoiled brat who loves to spend daddy’s money. And you know what? You’re absolutely right. I am that, shamelessly. But this is only because I realized at a very early age that money was the only way they would be present in my life, so I decided to exploit the shit out of it.”

You don’t have an answer to what he said. His experience of family is unique and unrelatable to you in every way. “I would’ve done the same if I were in your shoes,” you say, not quite believing your words. “You shouldn’t feel bad. You’re doing a great job.”

He looks at you like you hung the moon. “You think so?”

You try to hide your surprise at his reaction. “Yeah, I mean, you’re the captain of the team and the strongest player. You’ve been working so hard to get your grades up this semester, I’ve seen your dedication.”

He smiles at you– not his usual cheeky smirk, but a genuine, heartfelt smile. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Don’t thank me, Gojo, I’m just stating an observation.”

“Satoru.”

“What?”

“Call me Satoru. It’s what my friends call me.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Are we friends?”

He raises an eyebrow. “You were nice to me just now. I doubt you’re nice to a lot of people.”

“Well…” you trail off.

“Well…?” he echoes as he stops his car in front of my dorm building.

You unbuckle my seatbelt. “Maybe a conversation for another day. Thanks for the ride, Go– Satoru.”

He smiles for a split second before it is wiped away and replaced with a pondering expression. “Wait–”

You stop before you can open the car door. “Yeah?”

“Let me walk you to your room.”

It’s your turn to smile now. “I can walk myself to the dorm, Satoru.”

“It’s late.”

“I’m a big girl.”

“Come on.”

He’s so cute– wait what? Why would your mind go there? That’s Satoru Gojo, a certified college whore.

“Fine, walk me to my dorm room,” you hear yourself say. What is wrong with you?

The two of you get out of the car and begin to walk towards the building gate. The midnight air sways against your face while your cardigan protects the rest of your body. The place is quiet, only crickets heard amongst the trees. The moonlight reflects on the cars parked in the parking lot as you and Satoru walk through it.

“So you were saying?” He breaks the silence.

“What?”

“You said ‘Well…’,” he points out.

You chuckle softly as you look away to the ground. “Nothing really… you said you doubt I’m nice to a lot of people; I was gonna say I don’t talk to a lot of people to begin with.”

He looks at you with his head tilted in confusion. “Why’s that?”

You shrug. “Not a lot of people approach me here, you know? I just… exist, I guess. I mean, I’ve got Shoko. I talk to Nanami and Utahime sometimes. I’m not completely friendless, so that’s nice.”

“Three people in a college with around 20,000 students isn’t really… you know…” He trails off.

You feel the walls around you crumble a little as you speak. “I know, I know. But like I said, no one approaches me, which makes sense. And I’m not one to randomly approach people. Not great with social cues.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Why would you say it makes sense for no one to approach you?”

Why was he asking you so many questions? You can’t remember the last time someone had been interested in getting to know you in this way.

“I’m a scholarship student, I’m not exactly…” You try to think of a word, “relevant in your social hierarchy.”

He is quiet after you say that, probably trying to figure out how to respond to that. So instead, you continue, “It doesn’t matter to me. I always think that if they don’t want me, I’ll make myself needed. I’ll become an important person. My parents may not be rich, but who says I can’t be?”

“So you’re really ambitious,” he says. “I mean, I kind of got that from er– your constant hustle.”

You laugh at his remark, appreciating his humor instead of showing you pity like most would.

The two of you begin to walk up the stairs to your floor when he asks, “Which floor is it again?”

“Second.”

“Right… I’ve never been here. Shoko’s always coming over to ours to hang out.”

“The three of you must be really close.” He nods. “Yeah, well, five now actually. Nanami and Haibara came along during our sophomore year when we moved in together. They are good athletes, so I thought keeping them close would be good for the team.”

You nod as you reach your dorm room and ring the doorbell. When Shoko doesn’t answer, Satoru says, “She’s probably at the library. Or with Suguru.”

You nod at the possibility as you take out your copy of the keys. The jingling echoes through the empty hallway. You unlock the door to reveal your room filled with darkness. Turning on the lights, you politely invite Satoru in, to which he happily obliges.

He casually plops down on your bed, his legs swinging down.

“Make yourself at home, don’t be shy,” you say sarcastically. His phone rings. When he picks it up, you watch his demeanor change as the person on the other side of the phone speaks.

“No, I told you guys to not attend any parties for a month,” he says in a serious tone that’s very unlike him. “We have practice first thing in the morning every day before the season starts, and I will not stand any mishaps.”

Listening to him scold his teammates and watching him be a good captain stirs something unknown in you. It’s so attractive for one to be this responsible and laidback at the same time. Your eyes roam around his big biceps, stopping at the hand that holds the phone against his ear. He has nice hands, you think, wondering how it might feel inside you.

Snap out of it.

You will not throw yourself to him only to be tossed aside. You remind yourself why you’re with him– for a job. A deal that benefits the both of you equally. Nothing more, nothing less.

Then why did you tell him things you’ve never admitted to anyone?

What bothers you more is the fact that he was so interested in getting to know you. The way he is always so grounded around you makes you wonder if your previous perception of him being an arrogant asshole was just a misconception.

He hangs up the phone and smiles sheepishly at you, his dimples denting his cheeks. “Sorry,” he says. “It was Haibara.”

“It’s fine,” you say as you subconsciously move forward and sit beside him on your bed.

“Hi,” he says as his blue eyes pierce through you.

“Hi,” you smile back at him, unable to stop yourself from wondering what the hell he was doing in your dorm room of all places he could be right now. “Did you have to be somewhere?”

He scrunches his brows. “No, why?”

“No, I thought Haibara needed you or something.”

“Oh no, that’s been dealt with, don’t worry.”

When did you both sit so close together? You can almost feel his breath against your skin. “You have practice early in the morning.”

“I can function with less sleep.” He is almost too quick to answer.

Your faces are only inches away when his eyes fall to your lips. You close your eyes and feel his lips brush against yours. You kiss him back immediately.

Once you give him the green light, he deepens the kiss and you let out a low moan. His tongue enters your mouth as he hovers over you on the bed with you lying on your back. He trails his kisses down your jaw while pressing down to your tit with one hand.

His other hand trails to your inner thighs and you feel the heat pool between your legs. You let out a needy gasp, causing him to contact his lips against yours again while his hand unbuttons your jeans and slides inside them. He rubs your clothed pussy and intoxicated bliss spreads over you.

“Ahh, fuck, Satoru,” you whine. He takes that as a sign and slips his fingers inside your panties. Your eyes roll back when you feel two fingers thrust inside you while his thumb works on your clit.

“Nghh, Satoru, fuck, hahh don’t stop,” you don’t even know how loud you’re being, neither do you care right now.

As you say that, he takes his hand out of your pants, which makes you squirm needily. He positions himself such that he is facing between your legs. He reaches for the hem of your jeans as you lift your hips up and he pulls them down, followed by your panties, leaving your bottom bare in front of him.

He finally brings his face closer to your heat and licks a long stripe along the slit your pussy. You moan out in utter pleasure, spreading your legs further for better access. He begins to nibble at your clit, making you see splashes of euphoria in front your eyes. The pleasure is too all-consuming for you to even think of what’s right or wrong, of what you should or should not be doing. And you couldn’t be bothered to care about any of it right now.

He adds two fingers deep in your cunt, hitting the g-spot repeatedly as his mouth sucks on your clit. You feel the pressure build up like waves. “So close, Satoru, don’t stop,” you cry out. The waves crash over the shore with a loud moan escaping your lips.

You lay there panting, recovering from what you would call the best orgasm you’ve had in your life, as he sits up and looks down at you, a proud expression masking that pretty face of his, now all glistening in your juices.

The realization of what you just did hits you the moment the high dies down. You quickly close your legs and sit up, trying to find your panties.

“What happened?” Satoru asks in a concerned tone. You ignore him and put your underwear on.

Once you are done, you finally look at him. “Get out,” you state simply.

“What?”

“You heard me. Get out.”

“Did you not like it?”

“Gojo, leave.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

“What’s wrong?” you echo his words. “Everything about this is wrong. I’m your tutor. I work for you.”

“So?”

“So, we shouldn’t be doing this. It’s inappropriate.”

“Are you serious? I thought we–”

“No, I don’t know why I told you so much about myself. Starting tomorrow, everything is strictly professional, or I’m gonna have to quit.”

“Y/N, you can’t just say that, you know that, right?” Satoru sounds determined.

“Yes, I very much can. I’m sorry but I simply won’t let you think you can have me like that just because you’re you.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“What I mean is that I know you hook up with like hundreds of girls, and I just don’t want to be another name you tick off on your list.”

He looks exasperated. “You think that’s what you are? A name on a list? First of all, I don’t have a fucking list. Secondly, I don’t hook up with hundreds of girls. I haven’t done that since freshman year.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I don’t have the time to hook up with anyone.”

“You haven’t had sex since your freshman year?” Your voice is softer now.

“Not once.”

“Then why did you…” You don’t have to finish the sentence for him to understand it.

“Because I wanted to.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, really. It felt right.”

You would be lying if you say it didn’t feel right for you. But you don’t tell him that. Instead you ask, “Since when have you wanted to?”

He reveals his dimples at that question, “Since you asked me if I would cooperate with you if you tutored me.”

This brings a chuckle to your voice. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, something about you bossing me around was… you know.”

You laugh at his words. “You’re a dumbass,” you say as you lean forward and take his lips to yours.

164 notes · View notes

morphids · 15 days ago

Note

Omg… I love your works I’ve been keeping up with them for a while now! How cute would it be for Levi and Hange to be childhood friends and for reader to be Levi’s little sister in a modern! I imagine reader would have a crush on Hange but not say anything until they’re all adults 😭 probably mentioning it briefly in conversation like “haha yeah i had a crush on you… anyway”

brother’s best friend, hange zoë

oh hell yeah i love this!! sorry, i made it smutty—couldn’t help myself <3 hope u enjoy anonie! i put my whole pussy into it lmao

summary: brothers best friend!hange x f!reader modern au.

warnings: 18+ minors & ageless blogs dni!! explicit sexual content. poc friendly! nb!hange x female!reader. forbidden/secret relationship, switch!hange, switch!reader, older brother!levi. lesbian activity, yearning, angst? jealousy, fwb!abby anderson x reader cameo, dirty talk, tongue piercing, fingersucking, fingering, munching, strap usage, strap licking, hange refers to the strap as their cock once, they're both whores. for eachother <3. can't think of anything else. hange is tatted n pierced cos i said so :p

wc: 12.4k words.. look idk either don't ask. proofread but there's so many words im sure there's bound to be errors with my dyslexic ass.

—

As a child, you always used to follow your older brother everywhere. I mean, that's kind of a rite of passage as a younger sibling. You looked up to him, his friend group was nice to you, much to Levi's discontent, always buying you ice cream and little snacks and ruffling your hair until it was a tangled mess on your head.

You were only two years younger than him, but he acted like you were eight years old whenever you'd ask if you could go out with him and his friends.

"No—you can come when you're taller than me." He'd say, it worked when you were still smaller, but you had a little growth spurt, making you almost the same height as him. Levi hated that, being victim to endless teasing from both your parents and his friends.

"But, I'm already almost taller than you?"

"Doesn't matter, brat." But he'd sigh, and let you go anyway. Feeling your mother's stare on him, no words needed, a simple look that stated, 'Take her with you, and don't argue,"

It wasn't like you didn't have any friends of your own to hang out with, but his were just, so cool. So different to yours. They stayed out much later and did more fun things like going to buy milkshakes and sit around idly in parks. Stuff your friends weren't allowed to do.

Plus, one particular friend of his always caught your eye more than the others. Hange.

With their comfy cardigans and messy hair, cheerful smile and bright demeanour. They were way taller than Levi, you always found that funny. How technically, he wasn't even tall enough to go out either by the standards he placed on you.

Looking back on it, you were a little embarrassed at how you trailed after Hange like a lost puppy. Eyeing their every move and following them as you tried to force their attention on you. Cringing at your younger self, you just really liked them. Wanted to be their friend, to hang out with them as much as you could.

Now, though, you had all grown into adulthood, you were in your first semester at college, at home for the first break of the year. The woes of young adulthood following you around like it did everyone else.

Levi and Hange remained best friends throughout, many of his other friends moving to distant colleges, whilst both of them stayed local, their friendship held strong.

You were currently reading a book on your bed as you heard the familiar laughs from Hange, and chattering from Levi through the open gap of your door.

You always admired their friendship, how close they were and the effort they made into retaining it. Many of your own friendships had come and gone, lost to time and petty arguments but theirs never did, not even once.

Sure, you had Mikasa, the closest you had to a best friend but she was bound to you by familial ties and family values. You often wondered if your friendship would've remained if you weren't cousins. You weren't ungrateful, though, Mikasa is a ride-or-die type of person. If you were friends with her, she'd die for you. Her own code of loyalty un-breaking in the face of silly things that'd rip other friendships apart. You hadn't seen her for a few days, though. She'd gone on some trip with her parents and boyfriend, and not wanting to ruin their family bonding time you opted to stay at home during the holidays.

Consequently, you were insanely bored. Out of your mind, even. You had read that book maybe five times? You weren't sure if you had it in you to finish it for the sixth. So, rather begrudgingly, you made your way down the stairs, to where Levi and Hange were sat playing video games on the couch.

Hange's legs were spread as their elbows rested on each knee, both of them hunched over their remotes, backs bent to feel closer to the screen. Shouting incoherently as their chosen characters were beating each other up, throwing high kicks and brutal uppercuts in a 1v1.

You watched them for a while, laughing as Levi got his ass kicked by Hange's chosen character. Claiming that Hange was cheating to make himself feel better about losing.

Hange hadn't changed much, their features were the same, albeit more pronounced and mature. It was their style that changed the most, going from dorky graphic tees to tightly cropped tank tops that exposed their arms and baggy ripped jeans that hung low on their slender hips. Not to mention the new piercings and the tats that now covered their wrists and upper chest, often poking through the collar hem.

Their hair was shorter, now, too. Layered strands falling out of its tie as shorter pieces framed the structure of their face. A curved, short metallic line pierced through their right eyebrow, along with a small band hanging off their septum on a curved nose. Hange was always attractive, for sure, but they got insanely hot. Confidence just radiated from them as they got comfortable in their own skin. You had always been drawn to them, you just got better at hiding it. The prefrontal cortex developing into self-awareness at how embarrassing it was to be so openly craving Hange's attention. Plus, they were Levi's best friend, it simply couldn't happen.

Did I mention they were also gay? You remembered when Hange first came out to Levi, nervously telling him about a crush they had on a cute barista in the city. You also especially remembered the way your chest constricted and the bitter taste that soured your tongue as Hange fawned over this cute girl they spoke to just a few times.

Levi took it well, like a good friend, besides he was gay, too— in love with Erwin. He told you about their secret kisses and conflicted feelings one night, after a bit too much to drink that he was heartbroken when Erwin moved away, and onto to better things. A disregarded potential relationship that never kicked off, he hasn't found another half since. You wished he would, he was a good person.

Hange noticed you standing behind them, head turning slightly for confirmation of your presence before turning back to try and focus on the screen. You were bent over the back of the couch, elbows resting on the cushions as you watched their game, the loose, comfy shorts exposing your thighs and a tight long-sleeved shirt with a cut down to the chest, pretty white lace rimming the hem as it sunk down. Due to your position, the grooves of your cleavage were slightly exposed, enhanced by the propping up by your elbows on the couch.

Hange suddenly started doing really bad at the game, their fumbling allowed Levi to throw them off and back them into the far edge of the screen, hit after hit until the health bar lowered fully and a low 'fatality' sounded out from the speakers.

"Fucking finally!" Levi exclaimed, shocked but happy that he won a match at long last. Hange groaned, setting the controller down, standing up to stretch their limbs, tank riding up their stomach as they did so.

"I don't even know how that happened, man." "Needa get your head in the game!" Levi was revelling in his win, clearly it must not happen very often for him. "Big talk for someone who lost every other match," Hange teased, taking a sip from their bottled water as they glanced up at you.

"Wanna play?" They asked, passing you the remote. "Nah, I'm good, would rather watch you beat Levi." "Man, screw you." Levi chuckled, knowing you weren't wrong. He had won by pure chance, and perhaps a little added distraction.

You moved around the couch to enter the kitchen for some snacks, Hange's gaze trailing after you as you walked away. Eyes falling down to subtly observe the way the hem of your shorts cut off a little too far up on your thighs, shaping around the curve of your ass as the soft fabric swished with your movements. You looked fucking good, with your hips that now filled out any pair of your jeans, smooth thighs and nice bre—

"Stop that," Levi tutted, smacking his hand hard on the back of Hange's head. "Hey! Stop what?" Hange responded, more defensively than they'd like to admit, rubbing their head over where Levi's knuckles had collided. "Staring at her," He whispered, not wanting you to hear from within the kitchen. He could hear you messing with plates and opening drawers, it was safe for now.

"I wasn— wasn't staring at her, man." "Sure. It's not like I have eyes or anything," Levi rolled his eyes, "Just don't stare at my sister like that, creep."

Hange scoffed, lowering their gaze to the remote, they weren't being a creep, right? You just got really hot, it wasn't a crime to look. It's not like they were going to actually try anything. You were Levi's little sister, for crying out loud!

"Whatever, man, let's just play," Hange muttered, loading the next match up. "Don't forget the promise." Levi murmured, eyes locked on the screen, not even looking at them as he said it.

Ugh, the promise.

The promise that Levi made his male, straight friends make to him, and then Hange, too, when they came out as a lesbian, the 'don't you dare try anything on her,' promise.

It happened one day after he caught Jean eyeing you up perversely, followed by an inappropriate comment about just how attractive you got and that he'd willingly take you out, amongst other things. Levi, being unimpressed as always, slapped him across the head, not so kindly letting him know you were strictly off-limits. That he shouldn't dare try anything, lest he face Levi's wrath.

He may have found you annoying, but you were still his sister. No matter what, he'd always want to keep you away from certain things, if he could help it. Canoodling around with Jean and ending up hurt was one of them, he didn't want another comment to be made like that in the future, so he made the others promise, too.

Hange wasn't like that, weren't a player by any means. Quite the opposite, respectful of women and monogamous, in fact, Hange had been the victim of being cheated on a few times. Never the other way around.

No, his motivations for making Hange promise were different than when he made Jean do it. Hange was his longest and most closest friend, he'd be damned if something were to happen between you, get fucked up and cost him their friendship. Didn't want the uncomfortable risk of being made to pick sides when something goes wrong and lose it all.

So that was that, you were off-limits. It was made abundantly clear. He didn't really care what you did with people he didn't know, or wasn't close with, isn't his business, frankly. But anyone in his friend group? No way. That was way too close for comfort.

"No one could forget the promise, Levi, y'never let 'em." Hange huffed, he had always been so insistent with it. "Good."

Hange hated that promise, with a passion. I mean, it's not like they intended to break it, and hurt Levi. But, come on? A promise? It's not like they'd fuck you around. You meant way more than that.

With a plate full of little cut up fruits in your hand, you stepped back into the living room, humming a random tune to yourself. Painfully, blissfully unaware of the conversation that had just taken place between them.

Hange made sure to keep their eyes locked in on the screen, especially as you sat yourself down on the floor in front of the couch, directly in front of Hange so you wouldn't block the television. Then especially as you grabbed at the squares of cut watermelon, propping it on your tongue and even more especially when Hange caught little drops of fruit juice trickling down the corner of your mouth. Their eyes darted away quickly, frenzied button smashing as they beat Levi again.

With an annoyed groan from Levi and a loud cheer from you, Hange felt a swell of pride within their chest as you rejoiced in their win against your brother. This is bad, they thought, they need to push that shit all the way down. And quickly.

—

A few days had passed, and the conversation they had the other day was completely forgotten, at least by Levi. It was eating Hange up alive. Guilt feeding at their chest as they knew none of this wouldn't end well, one way or another. It was getting harder and harder to be around you and pretend. Pretend that they weren't having weird thoughts about their best friend's sister.

Maybe Levi would make an exception for them?

Hange grunted, head in their hands as they knew that would simply never happen. Levi had made it too big an issue of it to simply back down now.

They were dreading the barbecue your family had so kindly invited them to, Hange was pretty much an honorary member of the household. Your parents absolutely loved them. Hange would hate to ruin that. Their own family wasn't as nice, or as welcoming. Hange felt extremely grateful that they had been given a second home and been able to experience what it was actually meant to be like. That couldn't all just go down the drain.

And yet, there you were.

Amongst the members of your family and invited friends, you were sitting outside on a deck chair, huddling around the table with Mikasa and another unidentified person, some buff woman with a long, blonde braid, whispering to each other, god knows what about. Your hand was cradled around the glass of your self-made cocktail, the other gesturing to match whatever you were talking about, a bright smile on your tainted dark-red lips and long-winged eye-liner to match.

Hange couldn't help but stand there and admire you. Levi's words echoed in their head whilst they looked at how the short, white dress fit around your chest. The way it tightly hugged your waist and flowed out. Levi's words repeated over and over like a mantra all the while.

I'm so fucking screwed.

That feeling soon doubled, however. Hange was sipping on their cold beer, taking a long swig of it. Their fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle as that unnamed person next to you placed their muscled arm around your waist. Comfortably and without a care in the world. Like it was so easy for them. The twist in their chest exacerbated when you leaned into their touch, placing your head on their shoulder, as you continued speaking with Mikasa.

Hange broke their gaze away as Levi shouted them over, asking for them to grab some spare cutlery from the kitchen. Being close enough with your family, Hange was often tasked with helping out. They didn't mind, honestly they'd rather go clean the whole damn kitchen if it meant not watching the way the blonde carelessly nuzzled her nose into your neck, and the giggles that left your lips. Hange wanted it to be them.

They quickly made their way into the empty house, the guests enjoying the sunshine outside as your father singed spiced meat on the barbecue. Chattering and drinking away. All of them without a care.

Hange stood there for a few seconds, trying to regulate themselves and rationalise. That the image of that shouldn't have affected them so much. They were being a terrible friend to Levi by even allowing the discomfort, by allowing the anger to be fuelled by a sight of you cuddling up to someone else. Knowing that they could never freely do so.

Hange didn't hear you step into the kitchen, about to grab some paper towels for the drink you'd spilled all over the table outside.

"Um, are you okay?"

Your recognisable voice rang out amongst the silence, Hange's head turning towards you.

"Oh—um, yeah, yeah, I'm good." Lies.

"You sure?" You stepped closer to them, placing a hand on their bicep with concern. Hange could smell the intoxicating signature perfume you always wore, vanilla with tones of lavender, "You were just kinda stood there?" Your expression was worried, brows furrowed as you looked them over.

You had always been so caring, especially towards Hange, but right now it was just stressing them out. Too confusing. It was allowing them to think too deeply on the why.

"I just... forgot what I came here for," Another lie. Yet, the way it came out from them was way too easy, one of the perks of growing up in a house where you had to evade certain truths to avoid harsh punishment.

You bit your lip and furrowed your brows, a hint that you didn't quite believe what they were spewing, but decided not to push it.

"Alright, I just came for some napkins," Your hand left their arm, "You should join us out there, Mikasa wants to ask you stuff about her course, you both study the same thing."

Greaat. Hange wanted to throw themself on the barbecue. Of fucking course.

Hange and Levi were in their last year of college, due to graduate this year. Mikasa started studying the same course, Hange remembered you mentioning it once. Normally, they'd have no qualms about helping out, but right now? Having to sit with you all, right next to the woman they had no idea you were even seeing? And watch helplessly as she touched you in the places Hange so desperately wanted to in her stead? No, thank you.

But Hange has never been able to say no to you. So with a heavy heart, and a stiff smile they nodded. "Would love to,"

—

Hange was not having a happy fun time. Having joined your table with Levi, in hopes that it wouldn't be so suspect if he was there, too. It was fucking difficult, trying to eat your dad's delicious cooking and your mother's famously drizzled salad, whilst you and the other girl, who they now know was called Abby, were chatting amongst yourselves.

Hange tried to focus on the questions about the course that Mikasa had. Tried to be helpful, not glaring at the muscled blonde that enjoyed touching you up at a family gathering a little too much. How could Levi not have a problem with this? How could he sit there and eat nonchalantly like his little sister wasn't getting felt up by this stranger you'd invited?

Hange would never be able to do this, not in a million years.

Mikasa had eventually ran out of questions for Hange, leaving the table with the typical silence that befalls over people enjoying a good meal. Apart from you and Levi bickering a little bit, and a few chatters between you, Mikasa and Abby, there was a lot of empty gaps.

Hange was usually someone that had a lot to say, with a lot to contribute to group outings, sometimes even too much. But right now? They could barely find a word to utter. Focusing on sipping their beer and finishing their meal. All whilst trying to ignore how Abby's hand landed at your thigh, with a squeeze so subtle that no one else batted an eye at it, except Hange.

They were hyperaware of all of the touches, and not proud to admit how it made their entire body seethe. Was this your new girlfriend? Hange didn't even know you were into women. Obviously, asking in the past would've probably made Levi question their motives, so they just always assumed you were straight, accepting they didn't have a chance. Hange's brain felt heavy, so full of thoughts that just wouldn't stop.

"Are you feeling better?" The sweetness in your voice didn't help, neither did the cautious look in your eyes as you asked them the question, clearly still thinking about Hange's odd behaviour from earlier. "Yeah, why?" "You've been quieter than usual, weirdo, it's freaky." said Levi, picking his food apart with a fork.

"I'm fine." They muttered, necking the last dregs of the bottle, hating how the attention had turned to them. Focus on the weird stranger feeling up your sister, not me!

After a while, Hange and Levi excused themselves, leaving the table and going to play video games in the living room, Hange thanked their lucky stars they could finally leave the table. Storming away would've brought too many questions they weren't ready to answer yet.

—

Night fell, the guests had left, your parents had gone to bed and all that remained was you and Abby chatting outside. Hange was nested on the couch in the dark, cozied up with a blanket. Levi didn't like sharing his bedroom very often, so Hange was sometimes exiled to the couch— it was a really comfortable couch, though, so it wasn't the worst scenario.

No, the worst scenario was right outside the backyard door, trying to creep inside quietly. Hange thought it was just you, at first, trying to drunkenly enter the house without waking your parents. They hadn't expected to see the Abby's silhouette trailing behind you, hand in hand.

It was dark, but certain lights from the outside were shining through the door, which was more a slidable window than a door. Hange wanted to sink into the couch when they heard your soft gasps as they could make out Abby pressing you up against the wall. Followed by the low smacking of lips against your neck as you let out a quiet moan, Abby quickly covered your mouth with her palm to keep you quiet, with a gentle, ssh. Clearly, neither of you noticed the other presence in the room, sat on the couch with an unfortunate view of the whole thing.

This was torture. Was this God's punishment for emotionally breaking Levi's promise? For having such thoughts about you and weird, romantic feelings towards you since you were both teens?

Hange shut their eyes, heart racing from accidentally witnessing the intimate sight, awkwardly covering their face with the blanket so they could see no more. Wishing that their torture would end. Unfortunately, they could still hear you kissing each other as you led Abby upstairs to your bedroom. They could still hear your door shut and the subsequent creaking of your bed right above their head.

They just didn't happen to hear the way you accidentally ended up moaning Hange's name into Abby's ear as she fucked you.

—

You were mortified.

So ashamed of your own actions as the sober morning awoke your thoughts. It had been a very awkward encounter between you and Abby.

Look, you weren't dating, it was a purely physical relationship. It started a few weeks ago when you needed some quick relief from someone you trusted and Abby happened to feel the same. You were both on the same page that there were no feelings involved, a simple friends with benefits agreement. A you scratch my back, I scratch yours, situation.

That doesn't mean that explaining to your college friend why you had moaned your brother's childhood best friend's name into her ear as she was knuckles deep inside you was a fun conversation to have. You didn't exactly fucking mean to, Hange had just looked so delicious all day, as they always did, you couldn't get them out of your mind. Plus, they were behaving odd yesterday, and as a concerned citizen, of course they had ended up on your mind? That was normal, right?

Abby was understanding, of course, she was, she was the sweetest. Even going as far as wishing you good luck and hoping that it ends up with the outcome you want. It didn't alleviate the embarrassment, though, finding yourself locked alone in the early morning hours as Abby vacated your house. You didn't want to face Hange, even if they didn't know what happened— you did, that was enough motivation to isolate yourself for the rest of eternity.

The sound of your stomach rumbling was the only thing that propelled you out from your bed, forcing you to go downstairs and feed yourself some breakfast. So imagine your horror as you saw Hange laying on the couch, awake, watching videos on their phone in the early hours of the morning, as they sometimes do when Levi doesn't feel like sharing his tiny bed. He was a notoriously late riser. Did they see you and Abby last night? You'd been a bit too inebriated last night to notice if they had been there whole time. That just makes you feel even worse.

Hange was the one you wanted. You had always wanted Hange, even when you were younger and didn't realise what that drive was called. As you grew up and realised what it was, you just shoved it deeply away for Levi's benefit, knowing he was uncomfortable with you dating his friends. What a shitty situation.

"Looked like you had fun last night," Hange spoke without looking at you, eyes stuck on their phone. They don't know why they even said that. They shouldn't have said anything at all. It was none of their business, and it shouldn't matter. You weren't theirs. It shouldn't bother them if you were dating someone else, it definitely shouldn't make their chest tighten a cold grip around their throat at the thought of you sleeping with someone else.

"Uh, did you see anything?" what a great job of not sounding suspicious.

"I saw enough to know you had fun," Hange muttered, rolling their eyes, lifting themself up into a seated position.

"I'm so sorry, we didn't realise anyone was here," The shame was visibly clear in your voice, the way it fumbled and stuttered, "I wouldn't have done that if I saw you were here."

"Wouldn't have slept with her or wouldn't have done it in your living room?" It was out before Hange could stop it, resenting the reeking jealousy hanging off their words. They had no right.

"I.. it's not like I slept with her right on top of you." You defended, not enjoying Hange's clear disappointment towards you, it didn't feel good in your stomach.

"Hm— it was close enough." stop it, Hange, what exactly are you doing? Their inner monologue shouted at them.

"Please, like you've never slept with anyone before." You crossed your arms over your chest, sighing, getting visibly more upset.

"I—you're right. I'm sorry, it's not my place." Hange ceded, taking a deep breath that matched yours. Finally looking in your direction to make eye contact. They didn't love the guilt that was riddled on your face, they shouldn't have made you feel bad for that. It wasn't fair on you.

You eased up at their words, uncrossing your arms as you placed yourself next to them on the couch. Dropping on the cushion beside them with a loud thump.

"Please, just don't tell Levi, okay? I don't wanna hear it."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Hange's expression was vague, a weird mix of defeat and weak despair, their teeth drawing in their lower lip. You rested your head against Hange's shoulder, it felt too tense, a frigid air haunting the room as they placed their head over yours.

"She's not my girlfriend, alright, we just sleep together sometimes." There was no reason for you explain yourself, not officially anyway. You just didn't want Hange to think that you were dating Abby.

Hange nodded, ignoring the punch of all punches that just punctured deep within their chest, "Don't worry, I won't say anything, dear." Their words were soft, a sudden contrast to the escalating conflict that was about to happen moments before. Lifting your head slightly, your eyes met, looking up at Hange, who matched the eye contact. Both of you just sat there for a few seconds, gazing at each other with terse silence. Both forced to sit with the uncomfortable tension.

Against your better judgement, your gaze sunk to Hange's lips, just before the sound of Levi's bedroom door opening upstairs split you two away from each other. Heart race sped up against your ears as the both of you jumped up into proper posture like you hadn't just been inches apart a second ago. Levi was whistling as he came down the stairs, and you prompted yourself to finally get yourself some breakfast.

Staying inside the house was too much for you today, it was a Friday night, you should go out and have fun! Forget all these weird thoughts and just let loose. You messaged Mikasa whilst your bread was toasting, asking if she was up for going out later. Once she answered with an agreement, you had eaten your toast and told Levi you had plans for the night. Your parents had left early that morning for a weekend get-away, leaving him in charge of the house.

—

On the Uber ride back home from the bar, you felt bad for the poor driver. He had to listen to you and Mikasa talk nonsense and laugh hysterically at literally nothing reasonable, you had to remember to give him a tip. He definitely deserves it. Nothing worse than dealing with stupidly drunk people when you're stone sober. You ended up drinking more than you intended, spilling your feelings to Mikasa who listened intently to your woes before trying to get your mind off things—off Hange specifically.

The Uber reached your house, and you said your goodbyes, making sure Mikasa was sharing the trip with you so that you could make sure she got home safely, too. Girl code, you know?

At your doorstep, you struggled to find your keys, lost deep in the depths of your tote bag. You don't even know why you still used them, they were bad for your posture and everything gets lost in them. You resorted to loudly knocking on the door repeatedly so Levi could let you in.

"Why are you banging on the door like you're being chased?" Hange said, why they opened the door and not your brother, you were too drunk to figure out.

"I.. can't find my keys,"

Hange sighed, chuckling as they let you in. Seemingly over the encounter you both shared that morning. You definitely weren't.

"Where's Levi?" You mumbled, tripping over your the doorstep as you attempted to make your way inside, clawing at the wall to keep yourself stable. You hoped that sober you wouldn't remember that.

"On the phone to your parents, they wanted him to take a photo of something they forgot to take," Hange grabbed your wrist, holding you up as they brought you inside, "Just how drunk are you?"

"Hella," you laughed, your eyes sparkling up at them. Drunkenness evident in your face just by your eyes.

"Great, your parents won't want to see you like this,"

"What—I'm fine! I got home okay?" You argued, before Hange shushed you so that your parents couldn't hear your drunken slurring, grabbing your phone from your pocket, "Need to check if Mikasa did,"

Catching Levi's attention, he twisted his neck around to see what was going on, muting the microphone from his phone, so he could speak to Hange.

"Is she drunk?" He sighed, unamused and definitely not impressed.

"Like a pirate." Hange responded, still holding you up by your wrist, you glanced at their bare arms. Putting your phone away as the notification that Mikasa's journey had ended.

"I'm not that drun—"

"Fucks sake, Hange, take her upstairs." Levi interrupted you, tutting, not wanting to turn the mic back on until you'd both gone upstairs.

Hange pretty much carried you up, following behind you on the staircase like a bodyguard, with an arm held out to ensure that you didn't fall over and break something. Once you reached your bedroom safely, Hange brought you to your bed, taking off your boots and jacket before making you lie down on the mattress. You just looked up at them as they helped you wordlessly, watched as they grabbed a water bottle from your bedside table and passed it to you.

"You should drink some of that before you sleep, it'll help you tomorrow."

"I don't need water, like I said, I feel fine..." You argued again, ignoring that the room was spinning too much as you finally laid horizontally. Alcohol was grim.

"Just drink it." Hange crossed their arms, not budging until you lifted the bottle to your lips, almost drinking half of it before setting it down. Hadn't realised how thirsty you actually were.

"There, happy?"

"Very, goodnight." They turned around to leave you, hand hovering over the light-switch.

"Hange, wait." You shouted, they turned back around to face you, as you continued, "Can you stay with me? The room is spinning—don't wanna throw up."

Hange's eyes widened, mouth splitting open. "I.. don't think that's a very good idea." Levi was right downstairs, what if he thinks Hange was taking advantage of you or something?

Your persistence was almost admirable, lips curved into a slight pout as you gaze broke through theirs, reaching over to tug at Hange's shirt, "Please, Hange?"

With this, Hange was once again reminded of their inability to say no to you, sighing with defeat as they sat just an inch on your bed, their back to you as you were laid down. The awkward distance in between made it clear that they were planning on leaving again shortly, deciding to just linger around until you fell asleep, messing with their nails to pass the time. You were taking a while to drift away though, not happy with how far they were sitting from you, like you were contagious.

Whilst they were distracted with their fiddling, you drunkenly thought it was a good idea to grab the back of their shirt. Pulling at it until Hange was laying side by side to you, you ignored Hange's surprised yelp and rested your head on their chest. It felt more secure than the pillow, the room not spinning as much.

"That's better," you beamed, happy with yourself, snuggling in between Hange's arm as you sighed contently, basking in their warmth. Meanwhile, Hange was panicking, praying that Levi wouldn't walk in and think the worst. They hoped you couldn't feel their heart speed up with your proximity, or the quickened rises of their chest with your head snuggled into them as you tucked your feet underneath yourself.

Hange tried to ease their racing heartbeat by looking around your room. It was very you. Your personality all over the walls and decorations. Hange thought you had drifted off by then, until your voice broke the calming silence.

"You're so pretty, Hange."

They turn to face you, heart skipping as they see the starry admiration in your eyes, attributing that to the alcohol.

"You've clearly had too much to drink," Hange tries to shrug it off, despite the hot red splotching in their cheeks. They messed with their eyebrow piercing, spinning it around, a habit that formed quickly after it healed.

You firm it though, the many volumes of gin in your system easing your words out, "No. I always thought it, even when I wasn't legally allowed to drink," you huffed, nuzzling deeper into their chest, almost reaching the crook of Hange's neck.

Hange was freaking out, fumbling to think of a response, convincing themself that you were just drunkenly babbling—desperate to not let a little spark of hope develop into an unstoppable force. Yet, you held firm as an immovable object, wanting them to know just how serious you were. So they just scoffed, leaning their head back against your headboard in false nonchalance.

"I mean it! I had a little crush on you when we were younger."

Hange short-circuited, you had a crush on them? Wait—what do you mean by had? Did it disappear? Dissipated and lost in the wind as your network of people expanded and Hange wasn't the only person in your close proximity? They had a crush on you, too, but it never left.

Your head fell forwards, the weight of your own head too heavy to hold up any longer as it sank lower and lower, eventually resting totally on Hange. "Always wanted you to like me back—it's embarrassing..." you mumbled, eyes fluttering shut as your voice grew more drowsy, "Maybe one day."

Just Hange's luck, right? They wanted you to fall asleep that entire time and you'd refused, but as soon as you put those blasphemous words out there, sleep had already gotten its grip on you. By the time Hange worked up the courage to look down at you, you were snoozing away, regular, soft breaths escaping as you slept peacefully— unaware of the brain damage you just inflicted.

Well, shit, what now?

—

Levi was subsequently left alone downstairs the entire night. He knew he asked Hange to take you upstairs, but they'd been up there for a damn long time, now. It's not like he didn't trust Hange, he'd trust Hange with his life and yours any day. They were not a threat in any sense of the word.

But he had this itchy feeling in the back of his head, that he just had to go check out what was happening. He took himself up the stairs, waiting outside your bedroom door for a minute to sus if he could hear anything through the walls. At the silence, he turned the doorknob and looked at the scene.

Your boots, side by side in line on the floor against your bed. Your jacket neatly folded up at the edge of the bed. And then you, cradling a half-empty bottle of water as you were cozied under Hange's arm, both fully dressed, sleeping soundly and undisturbed on their chest. Hange was gone, too. Lost the fight against sleep as their head was leaning against the headboard, not the comfiest position but he'd seen Hange sleep in way worse conditions.

You two looked.. almost sweet. Innocently sleeping on each other that it almost made Levi feel guilty about the stupid promise. Almost.

The risk was still too strong a threat. Too big a risk to chance. It's not like he was stupid, he'd clocked your attraction to each other a long time ago, he just hadn't anticipated there being emotional sweetness along with it. With a sigh, Levi closed the door and went to his own bedroom.

—

Light was beaming through your curtains, your eyes fluttered open as you awoke. Luckily, your head wasn't pounding too much, you were thankful that you got minimal level hangovers. The only thing you needed was water, throat feeling scratchy, but you just felt so comfortable. Your eyes opened properly, the strain of sleep having latched your eyes shut, a saw what you were laying on. Or rather—who.

Hange was fast asleep beside you, neck bent slightly to the side, their arm was around your back and your arm around their stomach. Your stomach sank as you noticed you had been cuddling them in their sleep, as memories of last night started popping through your mind. That's embarrassing, you thought. Looking back at Hange, you took the opportunity to admire them. Freely allowing yourself to admire their long eyelashes that casted lines of shadows on their skin, that lovely nose as it dipped into their septum piercing. Plump lips pouty as they rested. They were beautiful, breathtaking in the soft light of the morning.

Picking yourself up, you quickly made your way through to the bathroom to brush your teeth, promptly returning back to your spot on the bed.

You grabbed a water bottle, it'd been wedged underneath you during your sleep, hurting your ribs a little bit. There was half of it left, that's enough for now. Attempting to be quiet as you drank, but it was obvious that the crackles of plastic were too loud for Hange to continue sleeping, lifting their head as their gaze fell on you. "Hi." you breathed out, a cautious greeting against the silence in the room.

"Hi." Hange rasped out, voice deeper, coated with sleep. You sat up, not wanting to make Hange feel uncomfortable by leaning yourself against them any longer.

"How you feeling?" they asked, using the free space around them to sit up straight and stretch out their back, cracking as it did.

"Fine.." you responded, "uh—thank you for helping me last night."

Hange's cheeks heated up, breaking contact as they cleared their throat. So did you remember? Did you remember the haunting words you whispered into the night as you fell asleep?

"Yeah—um, no need to thank me," "Well, still—thank you for staying with me."

Hange nodded, their demeanour deflating as they failed to hold eye contact with you. What could they say? That they would stay with you forever if you asked? That they would gather you in their arms and keep you comfortable any day if it meant seeing the content smile on your lips? That they wished you had meant those sacred words?

"I'm—uh—a little embarrassed," You muttered, playing with the rimmed edges on the bottlecap, "I—"

"Y'don't need to explain—I get it, you were drunk."

Gaping up at them, you let out a sigh, "That.. wasn't what I was gonna say."

Hange was slipping away from you, their usual tender sweetness towards you covered by an uncharacteristic stiffness. You had no choice but be honest with them. Hange deserves to know the truth.

"I meant it, you know? That's why I'm embarrassed."

That seemed to grab their attention, their eyes finally meeting yours. The rise and fall of their chest increasing, eyebrows quipping up, you continued.

"I've always liked you," you whispered, "I just wish it didn't come out like that, if it hadn't maybe you'd believe me."

"But, Abby—"

"Was a distraction. A bad way of keeping myself away from you," you grabbed their hand, holding it, "'cos I don't know if you've noticed, Hange, but it's always been you."

Hange's mouth split open, lips moving as they thought of a response. You took the surprise on their face and the silence on their lips as an admission that your feelings just simply weren't returned.

"I-I know it's a lot to put on you, I'm sorry— I just couldn't hold it in—"

"I feel the same way." was their direct response, cutting you off before you could take the words back. To stop them from seeping into the walls and being long forgotten.

Biting your lip, eyes staring at one another's nervously, contrasting the serenity of the bedroom's illumination. Tentatively, you reached out a hand, placing it lightly on Hange's jaw. Letting out a soft breath, Hange's eyes fell shut, deeply nudging their face closer into the caress of your hand. Eyes only opening when they felt your body budge itself on the bed, seeing how close you now were to their lips.

"Hange," you muttered, words laced with your nerves. Your stomach rippling with uncertainty, the anticipation making you shiver as you leaned closer to them, lips inches away from theirs.

"We can't," Hange whimpered, the hesitation evident, "Levi will kill me." Their voice was so quiet, scared to utter the fact that you both knew. You're off-limits. No matter how much they craved feeling your lips on theirs. That facts remained.

"I don't fucking care about Levi."

Truthfully, you've simply had enough of your older brother being an obstacle in the only relationship you wanted. Throughout the span of your life, you've yearned for Hange, there's no way you'd allow this chance to escape you.

"If we both want this," Your dangerously sweet whispers were serpentine, like a siren sinking a sailor to their certain death. Even as your heart was racing, one of your thighs moved over Hange's stomach, until eventually you were straddling over them, Hange's dainty hands trembled as they delicately hovered over your thighs, almost scared to touch you, "Why should it matter?"

Dampening your bottom lip with a quick dart of your tongue, you leaned into them again, thighs tightening around Hange's midsection as that little black dress of yours from last night rode up, exposing more of your legs. Hange gripped the skin of your plush thighs so hard, a testament to their restrained desires.

"Why should he stop you from going after what you want?"

Your lips met the skin below Hange's ear, grazing light pecks that caused goosebumps up their spine. Hange was breathing heavily beneath you, head hanging back as they bit back sighs. Their conflicting thoughts seeping in their brain, overshadowed by the skimming of your lips burning their skin.

"Fuck—"

Hange lifted their thigh, pressing it against the centre of your legs, as your teeth sunk over their neck. Sucking on the soft skin and running your tongue over. Hange couldn't hold back a little whimper at the contact, especially as your hips began rolling, rubbing your clothed centre over their propped up thigh.

"I—I want you so bad, Hange, please."

That was it. The rope of restraint snapped, the moment had reached over its boiling point as you whimpered against their neck. Hange grabbed the top of your spine, eyes meeting briefly before they melded their lips over yours.

You were whirling, hips grinding against Hange as your lips connected ardently. Feverishly slow open-mouthed kisses as you gasped into each other's touch. Years of mutually hidden cravings possessing your actions, feeling your tongues brushing desperately over into each other's mouths. Hange tugged at your ass, gripping at the skin through your clothes with a tight clasp.

Hange then separated your lips, looking up at you through their pretty eyelashes to gaze upon your state. With your eyes black with desire, they guided your hips into rhythm against their leg. Leaning their head up to kiss your neck, low, gentle pecks echoing within the room as you were trembling on top of them, chest rising and falling and your sinewy thighs trapping them underneath you. What a sight.

"Hange—"

Hearing their name slip from your lips in such a desperate manner, Hange felt like they should be locked up. The heavy sound of your low whimpers of their name causing a stir of their own burning heat to travel.

Levi was certainly going to kill them, good thing he's still asleep. Unaware of the way Hange was touching his sister in the next room. The whole thing was sinful, just reprehensible. The promise long forgotten, shoved to their back of their mind.

"You're fucking delightful, angel,"

Hange lifted themself up, back straight and chest tightly pressed to yours. Their hand rising from your ass to grip your lower back, fingers holding you in place to jut their knee against your core, their palm guiding your hips against them. Lips met again to quieten the gasps threatening to escape from within your throat. They couldn't deal with an interruption right now.

The pattern of movement in your hips faltered, grabbing Hange's wrist to place their free hand upon your clothed breast. Hange could feel your hardened nipple poking through the fabric, as their thumb rubbed over—god what they wanted to do. What they would do to see you without your layers, barren and exposed for them.

"I'm so—fuck— love seeing you like this," Your eyebrows were furrowed at their hushed words, teeth skimming over your bottom lip, it spurred them on more, "Thought about this so much, angel."

"Yeah?" You egged them on, pressing yourself harder against their knee, Hange could feel the dampness seeping through your underwear as your shaking hands reached down to unbutton Hange's jeans. They should've come off a long time ago, "I've thought about it, too—god—thought of your fingers, your mouth on me—fuck."

Unbuttoned jeans, and your dress just on as a formality, bunched up in folds around your waist. Hange lifted you up from their knee, your confession driving them over the edge. If only they knew how many times you touched yourself to the thought of them late at night.

Tugging the hem of your dress over your head, immediately catching the way your skin rippled from the chill in the air, nipples perked up and stiffened as your chest was heaving. A trail of hair leading down from your navel to your pussy, still covered by your lacy underwear, it drove Hange stupid.

"Shit— that's fucking hot," Hange rasped, words tight in their throat, desperately trying to keep their voice down.

Wasn't long before Hange was undressed, too. You made sure of that, ripping the shirt off their torso and helping to pull down their jeans. Both of you unclothed in front of each other. Your hands grazed over their breasts, admiring the tattoo beneath their collarbone, spread over the top of their chest, and their tatted forearms. Toned stomach twitching as your fingers travelled down from their chest to their abdomen.

Both of you just admired each other, before you brought your lips back together, open mouths chasing the sensation of each other's lips. You were straddling Hange again, rubbing yourself over their now bare thigh. Your dampness glistened on their skin with each roll, you felt fucking desperate.

"I'm burning for you, Hange—need your touch," You panted, losing yourself in the sight of Hange's slender barren body beneath you. Lost in the starry glaze within their eyes at you, tantalising. Hange groaned gently as they teased a finger on your slit through the fabric that was acting as the only barrier between your bodies, you twitched into their hand. Their knee wasn't enough, you craved more.

"What d'you want, angel?"

"Your mouth, fuck—please-"

The begging left you before you could help it, all you could think about was feeling Hange on you, anywhere, everywhere. Hange squeezed your thighs, laying their spine flat on the bed as they prompted you along their torso, your pussy accidentally grazing over their nipple, inches away from their mouth.

"Sit on my face, angel," Hange ordered, voice lowered and strained at the turned-on shock on your features. Hesitantly, you hovered over their waiting mouth, lacy underwear still on, trying to argue, "But I still have my—"

"ssh—just sit, baby." Hange was determined, hands rubbing over your bare skin as you shuddered on top of them. Silky thighs spread, opened just for them, like an unfurled deity, waiting patiently to be worshipped. They loved seeing you above them like this, aching for them. The slab of your stomach tensed as you tentatively placed yourself over their inviting mouth, feeling their wet tongue brush over your clothed slit.

The texture of the damp lace through their tongue pressing against your clit caused you to let out a shaky moan, a hand coming to grip the headboard, the other covering your own mouth. Hips began sliding autonomously over Hange's face as they sucked your pussy into their mouth, plump lips puckering over the fabric as their tongue swiped over in short bursts, with little pecks in between.

The top of your thighs started to burn from holding yourself up, legs shaking from the weight and the added sensation of Hange lapping underneath you, their muffled groans vibrating into your pussy. Hange's steady eyes were on you, watching. Their eyebrows pinched up as you both made contact. Their hands grabbed your hips, forcing you to rest your full weight on their face and ease the tension in your legs, you moaned into your palm as their tongue was closer to your throbbing centre. Spurred on by the intense way those amber eyes watched you whilst your mouth hung open. You ached to feel the wet muscle on you, to feel their warmth on you properly.

Hange's hand landed at your breast, kneading, your skin melted into the gaps between their fingers, the fat of your breast rolling underneath their hand. Hange's thumb teased over your nipple, spreading spurts of pleasure down your entire spine. Then Hange nipped the hem of your dampened, cotton underwear with their teeth and tugged it to the side, to expose your swollen pussy, leaking and throbbing in the cool air. A swipe of their tongue on your bare slit, lathering your sweet arousal on the tip of their tongue as they swallowed it, tasting you for the first time. They groaned out a muffled mm, into your centre, delighted by your taste. Before diving in to pleasure you properly, blissfully easing the tension that had built up in your core.

"That—hn— feels so good, Hange," your voice was muffled behind your palm, hips rocking over their face, coating their cheeks with your slick, their glasses fogging up with the honeyed arousal. You moved loose hairs from their face, fighting the wet strands as they clung to Hange's skin. "P-please don't fucking stop," you whimpered, gasping, losing control of your hips as you sat pretty on Hange's skilled tongue.

You could feel a coldness on your slit, realising Hange had a tongue piercing you never fucking noticed, the cold metal rubbing over your puffy centre. You leaned back, head hanging back at the chilled sensation, the contrast of Hange's warmth and the cold metal. Hange was struggling to breathe underneath you, clearly enjoying the light suffocation in between your thighs, eyes rolling back as their fingers harshly dug into your ass.

Your fingers travelled down Hange's stomach, reaching back behind you—feeling their abdomen twitch into your hand. Reaching Hange's centre, you rubbed your middle and index finger over their own swollen clit. Moaning as you felt how wet they were, their arousal matching yours in its desperation, Hange's legs spread out to give you better access. Aching for you as you ached for them.

Hange groaned weakly into your centre, lost in the scent, sight and taste of you as you played with their pussy above them, wanting to give them back some of the delectable pleasure they were giving you. Your perked up breasts were bouncing above them with the weight of gravity and the movement of your arm behind you, specks of sweat dripping down your stomach as you started losing rhythm in your hips, quickening up your rocking on their tongue, sometimes their nose would stroke over your clit, driving you further over the edge.

"Ah—fuck, 'm gonna cum," Your voice reached a higher pitch, you bit the back of your hand to stop yourself to shouting, "'m so fuckin' close, Han—gonna cum—fuuck."

Your hips twitched on Hange's face, they eagerly lapped up your arousal as it leaked from your throbbing hole, your release dripping down Hange's chin as they swallowed up what they could, like they were starved. Groaning happily beneath you as your fingers sped up against their clit.

You lifted your pelvis from their face, allowing them to breathe as you turned yourself over to focus on Hange. You placed yourself in between their welcoming, spread legs as they shook against your fingers.

"Fuck—angel.." Hange sighed, eyes closed as your fingers easily slipped inside them, lubricated by their own slick since you came on their tongue. They had been uncomfortably wet ages ago, but they were truly dripping now. Their own hips chased after your hand wretchedly as you curled three fingers against their cervix, rubbing over the squishy spot that had Hange throwing their head into the pillow. Hiding their face and mouth with their tatted wrist, their pelvis grinding into your hand whilst their body rocked from the repeated movements.

You didn't like their face hidden away, obscured by their wrist, so you pulled at it with your free hand, tugging it down until it was trapped on top of their stomach, held down. Hange was crying out, not having a way to cover their face from being restrained, forcing them to expose their expressions as you worked your fingers diligently inside them.

"Shi—ah—keep going, fuck, please—just like that,"

In perfect circumstances, you'd have loved to hear Hange coming undone loudly for you, but right now you needed them to be more quiet, Levi was right in the next room. So, trapping their arm with your chest, you brought your fingers up to their mouth, rubbing over their bottom lip until they split open to suck in your fingers. Their sounds enveloped by your fingers in their mouth, fuck, the sight was heavenly. Your head dropped down, weakly faltering at the scene in front of you.

Hange's arm pushed your head down, moving you forcibly until your face was in front of their heat. The corner of your lips tilted into a self-satisfied smirk as you understood what they were asking of you.

"Want my mouth on you, hm?" you teased, fingers still curling into them as Hange hummed, their head feebly nodding, mouth full of your fingers. Chuckling, you lowered your head, swiping your tongue up their slit, revelling in the minute twitches of Hange's hips. The feeling of your tongue lewdly slurping up their arousal plus your fingers stretching their tight walls in a steady motion, Hange was close to oblivion. Breathlessly gaping down to watch you as you worked hard to please. The deity was in between their thighs, blithely moving your tongue down their pulsing centre.

Their hips faltered, Hange's face stiffening as their eyes rolled back, they were in your heavenly trap— how could they ever get out?

"G'na cum for me, Hange?" you mumbled, pussydrunk as Hange's abdomen tightened, their thighs taut against your head, dragging you impossibly closer. You whined into their core as Hange released the pressure of their climax into your mouth.

You popped your other fingers out of Hange's mouth, spreading their saliva around their jaw as they quivered, riding out their saccharine release.

"Fuuck," Hange's whimper was soft, spent, tired out from how hard they came. You sighed as you slipped your fingers out, lapping your digits dry of the droplets of their arousal.

"That's it," you soothed, tranquillising them as you brought your lips up to theirs, hands on their jaw as your naked chests rubbed against each other. Hange looked up at you, their eyes half-lidded as they caught their breath, both of you gazing at each other with unadulterated love in your eyes.

Feeling relatively rejuvenated, Hange's fingers trailed down to the curve of your ass, massaging the skin under your underwear, before ripping it down your thighs. They felt insatiable. Wanted this haze to last as long as possible. You yelped sharply, thinking they were too tired to continue, confused as Hange bent you over, your knees folded on the bed and your ass up.

Hange got into place behind you, caressing down your dimpled spine as their leg nudged you to spread your thighs apart. They ghosted kisses on your skin, hands rubbing over your lower body as they placed a knee in between your legs, teasing your entrance with two fingers.

"Oh, f-fuck," you gasped, head falling down into the mattress to silence yourself as Hange plunged two fingers inside you. There was no need for anymore teasing, you were absolutely dripping. Hange rocked their fingers deep into your cervix, fingertips reaching the back of your walls as your spine curved to let them in even further. A hand met your hip, squeezing the skin as they swung your hips to grind over their knee, stroking your clit as their pretty fingers fucked into you.

Hange thrust their own hips in rhythm with their fingers, imagining that they were fucking you with their strap as a proxy instead of their hands. Getting lost in their own imagination as the skin on your ass recoiled with each hit, you throwing your hips back to meet their thrusts.

"Shit—Hange," you whined, muffling into the blankets as you panted, feeling them move inside you as overstimulation struck. Your clit was so sensitive as it rubbed against their knee. Reaching your arm back, hand flailing for them to grab your hand, craving that extra connection. Hange's hand encompassed your own, gripping it as they didn't relent their movements, holding their chest against your back.

"Fuck, angel—I fuckin' love you," Hange muttered, losing grip on reality and the control over their mouth, not realising what they had just spoken into the universe. You clenched at Hange's words, tight walls sucking in their fingers as you trembled.

"Hange—hn, I love you, fuck,"

"Could be in this pussy forever, 's just fuckin' perfect," Hange drawled, more kisses at the back of your neck and you lost it. Mouth hanging open, you squirted all over the bed and Hange's knee, forcing out their fingers with a pop.

You stilled underneath them, catching your breath back as Hange kissed you through it. Turning your body to the side, in a daze, you met eyes. Truly fucked out.

Hange fell beside you, caressing your sides as you snuggled into their chest.

"Think we were too loud?"

"Hope not," you muttered, "He's a heavy sleeper," Hange chuckled at your answer. They hadn't quite come to the realisation that they had just fucked their best friend's sister into next week, breaking the one promise Levi ever held Hange to, not wanting to think about the consequences.

"You said you loved me," you whispered hesitantly, eyes closing against their heaving chest. A little fearful of bringing it up in case it was just a heat of the moment thing, but since they said it, you couldn't stop thinking about it.

Hange stilled, feeling embarrassed that they uttered something like that during sex, they wouldn't have been as embarrassed about it if it wasn't true.

"I mean—I.. didn't lie,"

"You love me?" You looked up, it was hard to miss the way your doe eyes lightened up, specks of hope glimmering in them. Just like that, Hange's embarrassment dissipated.

"Yes, angel, I've loved you for a while," Hange moved a strand of your hair behind your ear, placing a kiss on your forehead. Biting your lip, you tried to withhold the smile that threatened to break out, failing miserably.

"I, I love you, too, Hange."

—

A week had passed, and Levi was none the wiser to the debauchery that took place in your bedroom that morning. Good, you thought, you weren't ready to tell him yet. You and Hange were in a good place, you didn't want Levi finding out and ruining everything.

Needless to say, you guys had begun secretly seeing each other. Hurried, covert kisses between you whenever he left the room. You couldn't help it, you were addicted, taking every chance you got to feel Hange against you. It'd been years waiting for this, there was no way you could go without it now. It wasn't like you could get much time by yourselves, anyway, you had to take what you could get and be grateful for it.

Dating Hange changed pretty much everything about your relationship, you were so much more comfortable around each other. That high-strung sexual tension that hung over both of you over the last few years had subsided, leaving space for an actual relationship to form where you could talk in comfort, behaving more normally around each other. That wasn't to say you didn't still want to fuck Hange's brains out, you just hadn't had a chance since that day, Levi was always hovering. You'd say he was more suspicious than usual, but why?

If he had heard anything that day, neither of you would be alive to tell the tale. He would've walked right in and killed you both on the spot. You felt like you'd been pretty inconspicuous, too, not saying anything out of the ordinary to Hange and not being touchy in front of him. Perhaps you may have been hanging around them more than usual, but would that be so suspicious?

Surely not, right?

You were craving some more alone time with Hange, wishing Levi would fuck off somewhere and leave you to it. You'd be ready to jump their bones at any given moment.

So when Levi left to go buy groceries for tonight's Hange was supposed to fixing something that had fucked up on their console. Hange's good at fixing things, often being tasked with doing so around the house. Trying to mask your excitement, not waiting to bait yourself out— you went up to your room. Waitied until Levi had got in his car and drove off before you messaged Hange to come upstairs.

Within seconds, Hange entered your room, giggling nervously as you pushed them up against the bedroom door, locking your lips on theirs.

"Hello to you, too," Hange chuckled, their slender hands grasping the sides of your head, getting the hint, as you slipped your tongue into their mouth. Hange moaning into the kiss as you slipped their shirt off, exposing their torso so you could bend your head and pop their nipple into your mouth. Rolling your tongue over the peak as Hange tightened their grip on you.

"Don't have much time, need you—now." you ordered, grabbing a hold of Hange's belt loops and dragging your bodies to the bed. Hange straddled over you as you made out in comfort, not worrying about volume for once. Hange unbuttoned your jeans, pulling them down to your ankles as you whimpered sweetly against their lips. The kiss was fiery, both feeling pent up and looking for mutual release, craving each other so badly. No more hesitation unlike the first time.

You unbuttoned your shirt, leaving it hanging open revealing your stomach and breasts, your hands coming to massage your own nipples as Hange gaped down at you, eyes darkening.

"I have something for you," you panted, eyes lidded as you smirked impishly, a mischievous glint in your eyes that intrigued Hange. You reached down below the bed, opening a box and pulling out a long, thick strap, nibbling on your lower lip as Hange stared incredulously at the toy in your hand.

"Don't you wanna fuck me with it, Hange?" the tone of your voice was too enticing, too seductive as you rubbed your fingers over the silicone. Hange tensed up, watching you tease them with it before passing it into their clasp. Trying to ignore the deep stir swirling in their core, with illicit images of you bouncing on their strap swirling around at the forefront of their mind. Hange rushed to prop it over their legs, tightening the straps around their hips and upper thighs.

"You're gonna be the death of me, angel," Hanged sighed, hands clutching your pillowy thighs. They could feel their pulse thumping in their ears with desire, eager to use the new toy on you. Not unlike you, who'd been itching to show it to your partner as soon as you got it.

"Couldn't sleep last night, Hange, couldn't stop thinking of you fucking me with it," you whined, as Hange's fingers teased your clit with soft touches, lips tilting up at your lewd words.

"That right, angel?" you nodded, "Been touching yourself thinking about it?"

"Fuck, yes.. tried to finger myself to get off, but t'wasn't the same," you huffed, feeling yourself get drenched by your own words, "can't reach as deep as you,"

Hange groaned, sucking your nipple into their mouth as they stroked your clit. You were throbbing, the last few days of fantasising left you feeling needy as fuck. Hange slid two fingers into your slick entrance, letting out a deep moan at how wet you were, at the way your pussy just sucked them right in like they were always meant to be there.

Your eyes fell shut as Hange scissored their fingers against your squishy walls, savouring the stretch to prepare you for the strap. Raising your hand to your mouth, you licked a stripe up your palm and lowered your hand to rub the silicone as it hung from Hange's hips. Hange's head fell down, watching dumbly as you rubbed your hand over it as if it were Hange's actual flesh. You'd swear they could actually feel it, too, the way their mouth split open and their breaths grew heavy. The way it provoked them to remove their fingers and edge the silicone tip over your folds, spreading your own slick all over your pulsing pussy.

"Hange—just put it in, please," You tried to push against it, feeling how Hange was separating your folds apart to lubricate the tip, "'ve been so good,"

Hange chuckled as they saw how ruined you were without them even doing anything. Slowly, they pushed the strap through your entrance, "You have been so good, baby," they pushed up until it were completely buried inside you.

"'n you're g'na take me so well, aren't you, angel?", you were filled to the brim, tears rimming your eyes as you rutted your hips into Hange's, "G'na take every single inch of me, aren't you?"

"Fuck—fuck, yes, Hange," you cried out, not withholding the volume of your moans as Hange began to thrust the silicone deep inside you, hitting the sensitive spot at the very back, "'Y're so fucking deep, f-feels so damn good,"

Hange grabbed your hips, using it as a stabiliser to thrust the strap in and out, your breasts bouncing as your body rocked, whimpering as the familiar ball in your abdomen tightened. Hange stared down at where the silicone disappeared inside your puffed folds, their expressions contorting when it'd come out soaked, with a little white ring of your cum forming around the base.

"Look so fucking good like this, all filled up, shit—and all mine," Hange rasped, fingers left marks on your legs as they swung the silicone deeper inside you. They bent down to lick your nipple, teeth latching around the pebbled peak as your back arched into them.

"All yours—ngh—don't fucking stop," Your arms wrapped around Hange's neck, keeping them close to your body as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Your legs slackened around their waist, short nails scratching at Hange's back as the pressure hitting against your cervix got overwhelming.

"W'na see you come all over my cock, fuck,"

The pressure tightened and tightened until your legs were squeezing around Hange, pulling them into you as you released, salacious whines slipping from your pretty lips. Hange moaned with you, sated that they could finally indulge in the libertine noises rolling off your tongue.

"That's it, fuckin' soak it," they muttered, "that's a good girl,"

Hange talked you through it as you came, gushing your slick all over their strap, effectively drenching your lower bodies. They pulled the silicone from your walls, the strap was lathered in your slick.

Your thighs trembled, coming down from your high, as Hange brought the strap to your lips, nudging your mouth open to lick it clean. You lapped up your own mess, Hange watching you intently whilst your tongue skimmed over the plastic. That awoke something in them, something they'd definitely mention next time, you already looked too spent.

Hange affectionally gave you kisses all over your face, praising you for being so good, that you took them so, so well.

"Y'sound divine when you come for me," they mumbled against your neck, those pretty sounds would be imprinted in their brain forever.

"Hange..." you covered your eyes, embarrassed at how loud you had been.

"No point being shy now, my love."

"Ugh," you chuckled, "We should get cleaned up,"

Hange got up and grabbed a towel from your wardrobe, drying your inner thighs off and wherever else you'd leaked your own slick on, before drying their own legs. You both re-clothed yourselves, freshening up and fixing hairstyles to look as if nothing happened. Levi shouldn't be back yet, anyway, you were in the clear for now.

Making your way downstairs, Hange trailing behind you on the stairs, you laughed amongst yourselves. However, that laughter died out immediately as you spotted Levi stood in your living room with his arms crossed, and an unreadable expression on his face.

The atmosphere very suddenly changed, the smile on your face dropped and Hange averted their eyes from their best friend, unable to look him in the eye, putting their hands into their pockets. The shamed guilt was written all over their face.

"Uh—" you tried breaking the silence, but the words got caught in your throat, Levi's glare was too haunting. There was no way in hell he didn't just hear you two fucking, and watched silently as you and Hange ignorantly made your blissful way downstairs. Your heart dropped, tears brimming your eyes as you waited for him to speak. Knowing that the peaceful bubble you and Hange had been in was about to be nastily ripped open.

"Well?" He finally spoke, eyes landing between you and Hange expectantly, "You got nothing to say?"

That last part was targeted especially towards Hange, who lifted their head to look at their best friend for the first time since both came down.

"Levi, I-I'm sorry—" Hange was trying so hard not to cry, "I didn't mean to break the promise, I'm sorry, it just—"

"Levi, stop this madness—we're both adults and I love Hange. You don't need to make them grovel and feel like shit," You bit out, sure, you felt a little bad, but this was way over the top. You weren't doing anything wrong. Neither was Hange.

"You love Hange?" He spat out, face tensing.

"Fuck's sake, yes! And for the record, the feeling is mutual, okay, we're dating— it's not like we're just fucking around for the hell of it."

"I see,"

"I know the promise means a lot to you, Lev," Hange stepped a little closer to you, and your gaze softened as they braved out a little smile at you, "But.. this is different,"

Levi stared at the both of you, almost apathetic. He looked down and sighed, tutting, "I knew this was gonna fucking happen,"

"Levi—"

"Stop, I'm... not angry." He rubbed two fingers over his nose bridge, "It's just a little weird, seeing it. Hearing it is a different matter, I'm gonna need fucking therapy for that,"

Hange cheeks burned, he could've just omitted the fact that he heard it, we all know he did, was voicing it out loud necessary?

"You're not mad?"

"I'm annoyed that you both lied to me, but I get it," he shrugged, "Just.. please be quiet from now on? And for the love of god if you have any arguments—don't come to me, I really don't wanna know."

—

#umm ok #this is probably my longest one shot #im weirdly proud of it?#i also find it v hot ngl 😭😭#enjoy #cos ik i did #lesbian #hange zoe x reader #hanji zoe x reader #hange zoe #hanji zoe #attack on titan smut #hange zoe x reader smut #lesbian smut #attack on titan #requested

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joeys-babe · 11 months ago

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Joey B Blurbs: The Real MVP

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Summary: Flashforward. Joe wins MVP after an amazing comeback in the ‘24-25 season. In his speech, he has to thank the person who supports him like no other, the real MVP.

Warnings: Fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

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*NFL Honors for ‘24-’25 season*

After a hectic day of running the household alone, I settled on the couch with Tyson and Miles to watch the NFL Honors ceremony.

Joe had his name in the MVP running, and I couldn't be more proud of him.

Last season was less than stellar, with his calf strain causing him to miss camp and his season-ending injury serving unfinished business on a silver platter.

This season he showed the world who the fuck Joe Burrow was.

Not that he felt the need to, but Joe showed NFL viewers that he was worth every penny of his contract extension.

Throughout the ceremony, Tyson and Miles were scanning the audience for their Dad. They'd “helped” Joe pick out his outfit just a few days ago and were so excited to see him in it.

When it got to the MVP category, I held my breath and closed my eyes.

And the 2024 Most Valuable Player is…

My heart was beating out of my chest.

Joe Burrow!

Tyson and Miles stood up on the couch and started jumping up and down, and for once, I didn't get onto them about it.

“Daddy won!” - Tyson

“Daddy won!” - you repeated

My heart soared when Joe walked to the stage, feeling slightly nostalgic when I got deja vu about when he won the Heisman in college.

Joe started his speech by thanking his coaches, coordinators, and trainers before he began tearing up thanking his family.

My eyes matched Joe’s misty ones, just like they did at the Heisman years ago.

“But- I uhm need to thank the real MVP.” - Joe

When Joe said those words, I shook my head, thinking he was going to mention Kid Cudi or Spongebob.

“She wasn't able to be here tonight because she's too busy in Cincinnati being the best mom ever, but I would like to mention my wife. Thank you for always being my biggest cheerleader, y/n. You've been one of my biggest support systems since I was a scrawny senior in high school. I will always be grateful for everything you’ve done and continue to do that has made me the man and player that I am today. I'll admit, I was super nervous for tonight, and I called y/n in the bathroom. Her voice alone calmed me down, but the words gave me enough confidence to leave my hiding spot in the bathroom stall. Thank you for being my best friend, y/n. I love you more than life.” - Joe

Tears streamed down my face as I listened to his sweet words.

“Oh, and thanks for this award. Who Dey!” - Joe

With that, Joe left the stage and walked back to his seat, more in love than ever.

He'd never felt so happy.

When I heard my phone ding, I thought it would be Robin to point out Joe’s sweet words, but instead, it was Mr. MVP himself.

Did you watch my speech? :)

Yes. Currently crying. I love you so much, Mr. MVP.

I'll only be Mr. MVP if you'll be Mrs. MVP.

I’m not a player, though. 🤨

His next text gave me butterflies, it amazes me that his effect on me hasn't changed even after all of our years together.

Most valuable person, baby. 😁

————————————————————————-

Authors note: short as heck but whatever

Request for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed!

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic

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imtryingbuck · 11 months ago

Text

Eighteen

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.

Word count: 5,786

Warnings: fluff, angst, heavy use of pet names. eating humans (doesn’t happen obviously and it’s only said as a joke) mentions of cheating, mentions of past suicide attempt

A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

It had been three years since she was last at home, three years at private school and it was amazing for her.

She made friends with two of the girls there Natasha and Wanda, they had introduced themselves to her first and Wanda shyly had asked if Y/n would like to be their friend, she hesitated at first but eventually said yes which brought a huge smile to Wanda’s face and a shy smile to Nat’s.

They accepted her with open arms and Nat even enjoyed playing in the mud and climbing trees with Y/n. When that fateful day came where they saw her scars she panicked and knew that they wouldn’t want to be her friends anymore but instead of judgemental or looks of horror Wanda burst out crying and pulled her in to a bone crushing hug whilst Nat stood there cursing in Russian. For the first time since James she opened up to what had happened to her.

Not even Steve knew the whole story, especially not Sam. Sam had heard things but chose not to listen; he chose to wait until she had said something herself.

Once she had finished telling them everything she was comforting the two red heads reminding them that she was okay now.

It had felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders and for the first time she felt like she could breathe.

If you saw one of the girls the other two was close behind.

Throughout the three years that had passed she had heard about Bucky, Sam and Steve from her parents. The boys had showed up a few days after she had left so James could apologise and when they found out she had gone James started to cry, Steve and Sam too. When she heard about that she wanted to go back home to make up with her boys fighting with herself on whether or not she should but ultimately she decided that she wasn’t going anywhere. James had made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t her friend and that he never wanted to be in the first place.

It was a hard decision for her to make but luckily she had Nat and Wanda by her side supporting her.

Now that school was over she was heading back home, she had decided she didn’t want to go to college and after a bit of back and forth with her parents - especially her mom - they agreed to let her do what she wanted to do.

“We’ll see each other in a month Wands don’t cry” she says hugging Wanda who was in fact balling her eyes out.

“A month is so long away an-and what will I do if I’ve forgotten your face or-or your voice?” Ever so dramatically Wanda cried.

“Really? Really Wands it’s four weeks you’re not going to forget anything about me and if you do I’ll have to punch you in the arm”

“Please don’t, but you’re right. I’ll just have to go on living without you my friend, go go leave and don’t look back, I don’t think my heart could take it” Wanda says bringing one hand across her face and the other clutching her chest.

Y/n looks at Nat who stands there with one eyebrow raised “this…this is our best friend”

“I know. Wand why do you have to be so dramatic all the time?”

“Hey I’m not dramatic I’m traumatised!”

Nat and Y/n burst out laughing, shaking their heads at the red head. “Traumatised? Wanda I love you but you my friend are so dramatic”

“I’m trying to be…emotional and romantic well not romantic because even though I love you Y/n I have to admit baby girl you’re not my type”

“Don’t say that-“ Nat says quickly but gets cut off.

“I-I’m not y-your type? H-how dare you!”

“Great just great, look everyone these two weirdo’s are my best friends!” Nat shouts pointing at her friends.

“I have to be honest with myself Y/n/n okay, I can’t keep lying to you it-it’s not fair, I’m sorry” Wanda says in a wobbly voice.

“No, no I understand. I’m just not good enough for you and that’s the truth! Don’t keep lying to yourself Wanda!”

“Guys please stop…” Nat butts in.

“Great you’ve upset our daughter!” Wanda shouts throwing her hands in the air.

“Me? Me? Well guess Wanda she might not even be yours! That’s right I cheated on you with your father!”

“W-what? H-how could you? I loved you”

“But you don’t love me anymore now the truth can be out there!”

“To be fair Wanda could possibly be my dad because we both have red hair…”

“She gets her attitude from you Y/n, how could you do this to us?”

“Us? You’re the one that literally just said I wasn’t your type!”

“Guys please, I don’t want to come from a broken home”

“Oh Natty come here sweetie me and your maybe father was just playing” Y/n says opening her arms for Nat to shuffle into. Wanda then wraps her arms around the pair.

“Well ladies that was a very moving performance if I do say so myself but it’s time for you to break it up and leave” Mr Walters says from the steps leading up to the school.

“Right, sorry sir. Emotional day” Y/n speaks first.

“A lot of truth came out sir, we needed it” Wanda then says.

“Wanda might not be my father sir, I’m so depressed” Nat shrugs.

“I’m…I’m actually traumatised because of you three. Thanks for that.”

“Rude. Well goodbye sir, thanks for being the best teacher ever!” Y/n waves.

“Bye ladies, good luck with everything” he says walking back in to the school, he had to admit that he was going to miss seeing the trio and miss their antics.

“You’re such a teacher’s pet” Nat laughed.

“It’s called respect madam, something you clearly don’t have for your mother!”

“Y/n, baby it’s time to go” Maria interrupts whatever Nat was going to say.

“Coming. Well ladies I guess this is it, it’s been a pleasure knowing you but this is where the curtains close, I bid you adieu.” Y/n bows.

“And I’m called dramatic” rolling her eyes Wanda bows too.

“Alright guess I’ve got to do the same” Nat follows along.

“But no in all seriousness I’m so glad I met you and I’m forever grateful to the pair of you”

“Always Y/n you know this, we’ll always be friends no matter what and we’ll see each other next month” Nat said as she pulls Y/n into a hug.

“I love you both” Wanda says wrapping her arms around her friends.

Pulling away they all smile at each other.

“Last one to their parents cars are a rotten egg in 3…2…1”

They take off running to their parents; Y/n first, Nat second and Wanda third.

“No fair! You guys know I’m terrible at running!” Wanda shouts from her parents’ car.

The drive home was filled with conversations, laughter and catching up. It had been six months since they had seen her in that six months she looked more grown up, more sure of herself, happier.

Maria couldn’t help but smile as her daughter rambled on about what her and her friends had been getting up to. Amazed by how she looked so much like her mama, Maria made it her sole mission to make sure Y/n got a few photographs of her and her mama from the hell hole of a house she grew up in. Maria had kept one for herself it was a photo of Y/n who was roughly three or four years old with her arms wrapped around her mamas neck who had a baby Y/n in her arms as they stood outside a cabin, both smiling widely as the camera captured a beautiful moment between mother and daughter.

It was only after seeing that photograph that Maria understood where Y/n had gotten her crazy unruly hair from, Maria knew that Y/n was blessed to have taken her looks and traits from such a beautiful woman.

Y/n didn’t know that her momma would go to her mamas grave and put fresh flowers down every weekend or how she would sit on the hard ground and speak to the woman she never met before and talk for hours telling her how their daughter was growing, how she was cheeky and caring, how smart she was. Or how just before she would leave the grave where her birth mom laid Maria would place a kiss to her fingers and place them on the headstone and say “thank you my friend” because yes even though she had never met the woman and that she was no longer alive she had become Maria’s friend, and every time she thanked the woman it was for giving her a wonderful gift, Y/n.

“-mom? Momma are you even listening?” Y/n says.

“Oh, sorry darling yes I’m listening”

“No you weren’t but it’s okay I was just saying that Nat had found a rat in her bag and she screamed so loudly it nearly burst my eardrums”

“To be truthful I would have done the same thing” Maria chuckles.

“I know! I had to calm it down because it had gotten scared, I mean well so would I if I had Nat screaming and trying to hit me with a bag” Y/n giggles.

Shaking her head she was so happy that Y/n had Nat and Wanda as friends, they treat her good and were really amazing friends to her daughter. When she met the two red heads she was taken back by watching their dynamic and how well Y/n fit in so perfectly.

“Natasha’s reaction was perfectly justifiable” she points out.

“That’s true but she could have calmed down, I was there and we all know I’m great at talking to animals and calming them down” she smirks.

“Very true angel, listen…please don’t be mad-“

“No…dad you both promised!”

“It wasn’t our idea angel but George’s and Winnie’s, darling they’ve missed you-“

“A party dad? I suck at those things”

“It’s not a party but more like a get together-“

“So a party. Uncle George and Aunt Winnie don’t do “get togethers” dad and you know that”

“Well it’s happening and you’re going to enjoy it, you’re going to smile and have a good time and you’ll thank George and Winnie afterwards” Howard speaks.

“Yes Master”

“Good boy”

“Treat?”

“Not yet”

“Do you want me to give you my paw?”

“Mar our dog talks way too much, I told you we should have gone with a German shepherd and not a Chihuahua”

“Oi I’m not a Chihuahua! If I had to be a dog I probably would be basset hound…”

“Why?”

“They’re so cute and lazy and small”

Howard lets out a booming laugh as he nods, Y/n joins in whilst Maria looks at the driver who’s trying not to laugh “would you be a dear and crash the car for me please?”

“No don’t, I can’t get a treat if I’m dead” Y/n laughs out causing Howard to laugh even louder.

“‘A get together’ yeah alright dad! It’s like the whole world is here” she scoffs.

“Don’t be so dramatic, come on and don’t forget to smile”

Half of the people who had showed up she didn’t even know and the ones she did were either nice to her or people who helped to torment her but doing as her father said she smiled at everyone, saying her thanks when people congratulated her for graduating school.

“My sweetie!” Winnie’s loud voice came from across the garden, Y/n watched at the woman who she’s missed dearly nearly runs over to her.

“Miss Winnie, I’ve missed you!” She wraps her arms around her third mother figure.

“I’ve missed you too my sweet baby, oh look at you! All so grown up and so bloody beautiful, where’s that’s little girl who broke my heart all them years ago gone?”

“I killed her and buried her in the backyard but don’t tell my momma or dada that” she giggled.

“I won’t don’t worry your secrets safe with me” Winnie winked.

“Is-is that…no I don’t believe my eyes. It’s my darling girl!” George shouts ignoring all the looks that get thrown his way as he makes his way over to Y/n and Winnie.

“Hi Mr George”

“Oh my, you’re as beautiful as ever!” He picks her up and spins her around just as he did when she was little “oof and your heavier”

“George!” Winnie scolds.

“What have they been feeding you at that school hey missy?” He asks completely ignoring his wife.

“Humans from all over the world” she winks with a shoulder shrug.

“Are they nice? I’ve been thinking of getting into eating humans”

“Honestly? I recommend that you should, tasty” she laughs, George and Winnie joining in.

“On a serious note though, I’ve missed you darling and I’m so proud of you. And please remember I love you, you’ve always been our daughter too. Oh God I’m so fucking proud of you” George says with tears in his eyes as he remembers the first day he met her, how small and scruffy she was, how scared she look. After what that monster did to her he was scared that she wasn’t going to survive. It’s true though, he and Winnie saw her as their daughter before Howard and Maria adopted her.

“I love you both too and I will forever be indebted to you both”

“Nonsense silly girl” Winnie says.

“Are you trying to steal my daughter away?” Howard laughs as he walks over.

“Obviously, the plan is to knock you and Maria out and I’m going to kidnap this one” George says.

Howard laughs which has George turning to Y/n “he thinks I’m joking, but I’m not”

“Don’t wind him up” she laughs.

She’s oblivious to the conversation that’s happening on the other side of the garden as she laughs with her parents and surrogate parents.

“My sweetie!” He hears his mother call out and he knows instantly that Y/n has arrived as he looks in the direction his mother is making her way over to his breath gets caught in his throat.

His Bunny.

His Bunny all grown up.

His Bunny all grown up and looking just as beautiful as she looked the last time he saw her.

There hasn’t been a single day that’s gone by where he hadn’t regretted this shit that spewed out of his mouth that day. When he found out that she had left it felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and stomped on a million times.

Of course he was never friends with her out of pity, she was easy to talk to, she made him laugh, she was his best friend, his person.

His soulmate as Winnie would say.

But every day he reminded himself that he only had himself to blame.

“I-is that…” Steve questioned with his eyes trained on his best friend who he hasn’t seen in three years.

“Bunny” Bucky nods.

“Holy shit she’s gorgeous” Sam says.

“Yeah she is” Bucky agrees.

“When are you going to talk to her?” Steve asks.

“I’m not. She’s not going to want to talk to me, not after what I said the last time we saw each other”

“That was three years ago Buck, it’s Y/n she’s no doubt forgiven you”

“I doubt it. Steve you have no idea how sad she looked man”

“Bro just go and talk to her” Sam says taking a sip of his beer.

“I-I can’t, are you two going to talk to her?”

“Yeah…well I was going to wait for her reaction with you first before making my way over to her” Steve admits.

“Same if she hits you then I’m staying away but if she doesn’t then yeah of course I’ll talk to her”

“Cheers” Bucky grumbles his eyes refusing to move away from her.

They all watch as she laughs with her parents and Bucky’s, they don’t stop the smile from forming onto their lips as they watch their best friend.

They all carried their own guilt from three years ago and all silently hope that she forgives them for what happened.

“Buck go and talk to her” Steve tries to encourage his friend mainly so he could then talk to her.

“Yeah…yeah I’m going to do it” he puts his drink down on the table before straightening his shirt out.

Just as he was about to take that first step closer to his Bunny he stutters when he sees a tall bulky guy with blonde hair walk up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, watching as she squeals turning around in the guys hold.

He watches as she places her hands on either side of his face and places her lips to his.

He’s pretty certain that he hears his heart breaking.

“Buck…”

“Huh? Yeah?”

“A-are you alright?”

“I’m fine, so she’s got a boyfriend that’s cool” he turns to pick his drink back up and downs it in one gulp. “Do-do you think she’s happy?”

Steve and Sam share a look before answering. “We’re not sure pal”

“I hope she is, t-that’s all I’ve ever wanted for her.”

They continue to watch as Y/n introduces the guy to Bucky’s parents and they can tell instantly that Winnie’s smile is fake, she’s always been the one rooting for Y/n and James to get together. The smile on Y/n’s face is as big as it ever was as she stares up at the guy.

“How do you think they met?” Bucky asks.

“God knows, but as long as he treats her right that’s all that matters really.” Sam says eyeing Bucky cautiously.

“I hope so”

As the party winds down the boys not barely moving apart from Sam as he raids the table with all the food on it. They watch as the blonde guy leaves, not without having a make out session with Y/n.

As the guests start leaving Bucky’s quick to notice that Y/n is no longer around and when George stumbles over to the boys he finds out that Y/n’s disappeared and wonders if they had seen her, they all shake their heads.

“I think I might know where she is, hold on”

He makes his way down to the bottom of the garden and climbs over the fence, really hoping he was right.

“Bunny” he whispers when he sees her sitting on the ground in the spot they claimed as theirs, the same spot he first laid eyes on her when he was just seven years old.

“Hi James” she whispers back keeping her back to him.

“C-can I sit next to you?”

“Sure”

For the first time since the two have known each other they sit side by side in uncomfortable silence. It pains the both of them that this is how it’s come down to this.

But unfortunately it had.

“So-um-how are you?” Bucky asked as he stumbled over his words.

“I’m good, what about you?”

“Good, that’s good. I-I’ve missed you Bunny” he admits, his heart squeezing when he sees her flinching.

“Oh”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I just don’t know why you would have missed me when you didn’t want me to be your friend anymore or ever”

“I didn’t mean it Bun I swear. I was angry an-and I took it out on you, I’ve regretted it ever since”

“Why was you angry? I’m the one that had my back exposed to the whole school and the three people who were my only friends, the only people I trusted more than anything didn’t try and stop it or-or even try and help me. You had no right in being angry James” he hates how she doesn’t raise her voice and hates that she calls him James.

“I know and I’m sorry Y/n I really am”

“It’s okay I guess.”

“No it’s not! None of the shit I said or didn’t do was okay, you’re my best friend Bun and I should have stuck up for you. I shouldn’t have said I chose Dot over you because you always came first no matter what”

“It’s okay because it doesn’t matter anymore, I got over it”

“Over it or over me?”

“Honestly? Both”

Bucky released a choking sob at her admission, she had gotten over him and he didn’t know what to do. “Bun-“

“You shouldn’t call me that James, don’t want to upset your girlfriend”

“I-I don’t have a girlfriend”

“What happened with Dot?”

“She-I walked in on her having sex with Brock”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she said it was a one time thing but he said they’d been at it for months so…”

“I’m sorry, I never liked her”

“Did you even know her?”

“No…what kind of name is Dot anyway?”

“It’s short for Dolores” he laughed.

“Stupid name for a stupid girl. How long were you two dating for?”

“A year, actually walked in on them the day after our one year anniversary”

“That’s cold”

“Yeah. What about you? Lover boy back there” he watches as her cheeks start to turn red and a shy smile on her lips, his heart pounds loudly in his chest at the sight.

“His names Pietro, w-we’ve been dating for five months now”

“How did you two meet?”

“He’s actually my best friends twin brother, we met when her family came up to see Wanda and she introduced us and yeah, he asked me out on a date and then another and another then he asked me out”

“Does he make you happy?”

“He does, well when he’s not talking with his mouth full” she giggled, and for the first time in over three years she looks up at him. Breath gets caught in her throat as he’s looking just as beautiful as he looked the last time she saw him.

“I’m glad, not about the food in mouth when he talks thing but I’m glad he makes you happy”

Not knowing how to reply they fell back into silence but this time it was comfortable.

Y/n was the first one to break the silence “do you know if anyone lives in my old house?”

“No one wanted to move in after…you know”

“Oh. Have you ever been there?”

“Once, I didn’t go in or anything I just stood outside”

“When?”

“A few months after you left. I’m not sure why I did it but” Y/n stood up and held her hand out for James to take and helped him stand, pulling her hand away from his once he was stood up she started to walk in the direction of her old home.

“Come on slow pokes” she called over her shoulder.

“Y/n are you sure about this?”

“My therapist said that it might help me to be able to finally move on”

“You’re in therapy?”

“Yeah, mom said it might help after what I did”

“W-what do you mean?”

“I tried to kill myself” she shrugged.

As she carried on walking she hadn’t realised that Bucky had stopped. She had tried to end her life and no one told him. Bucky had lost her as his friend and nearly lost her in this world completely and no one told him.

“Ducky?”

His heart stopped at that name.

“Duck? Come on we’re not that far now”

“Y-you called me Ducky”

“Well yeah that’s your name isn’t it?” She smirked.

“Bunny please don’t joke about this. You called me Ducky even though we’re not friends anymore”

“You’ll always be Ducky to me James. And who said we’re not friends anymore?”

“We-we aren’t?”

“Nope, we said we’d be friends forever and forever hasn’t ended yet so therefore our friendship is still intact, come”

“B-but what I said”

“It’s in the past”

“Can we go back to being Bunny and Ducky again?”

“Well of course, that’s if you actually did want to be my friend and not just doing it out of pit-“

A loud squeal echoed through the woods as Bucky charged at her picking her up as if she weighed nothing and spun her around. “I never meant what I said Bun never not for one second, please forgive me and I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you”

“Buy me an ice cream and all is forgiven”

Laughing he puts her down slowly and nods “I can do that. Bun”

“Yeah”

“Yo-you tried to kill yourself?”

“Yeah, it was about a year ago”

“Why did you try and do it? Why wasn’t I told?”

“I was in a dark place Duck, remember my special place?-“ she taps the side of her head and watches as he nods “-well it wasn’t special anymore and-well I don’t want to get in to it but it got bad so I wanted to end it”

Rolling her sleeves up she showed Bucky the two angry long scars on her arms, he slowly reached out and gently glided a finger down the scars. “Nat found me in the bathroom and screamed out for Wanda who went and got a teacher, Mr Walters came running and picked me up rushed me to the schools nurse and I was taken to the hospital when an ambulance arrived. My parents were called and I begged them not to tell anyone that included your parents Ducky, they don’t know.”

“Bunny…”

“I’m okay now though, yeah I have bad days still but it’s not as bad as it had been and Dr Cho is incredible, she’s so sweet and she’s never once judged me about anything and she makes me laugh, oh and she always has sweets!”

“I should have been with you Bun, I’m so sorry I let you down”

“Hey none of that! It’s not your fault at all, mental health is a bitch-shit-fuck-please don’t tell momma I swore!”

“You still don’t swear?” Bucky laughs.

“No momma says it’s unladylike”

“You? A lady?” He has to stop walking and bends over with laughter.

“Oh shut up! I could be a lady”

“Never!”

Y/n knows it’s true herself but that was beside the point.

“Shut up. Come on I need your support to get this over and done with”

“I’m coming Bun, are you sure you want me here with you?”

“Always”

The rest of the walk was done in silence and before she realises she’s standing in front on the wired fence surrounding her old home. Looking at Bucky she musters a smile that he knows is fake and presses down on the fence and climbs over.

Waiting for Bucky to do the same she stares at the slowly decaying building that’s haunted her nightmares since she was seven years old. The ivy wraps itself around the house, windows are smashed from either Mother Nature, kids playing in the woods or animals. For some reason the building looks just like it’s supposed to - a building. She feels quite silly for letting it terrorise her dreams now that she’s standing in front of it, it doesn’t seem so scary now.

“Bun, we don’t have to go in if you don’t want to” Bucky’s gentle voice came from next to her.

“No I’ve got to, I’ve got to put the monster to bed once and for all. It’s-it-can we just wait out here for a few minutes, please?”

“Of course Bun. I’m right here”

A few minutes go by and she finally puts one foot out in front of the other, taking slow steps towards the place she once called home a very long time ago now. Her chest starts to feel tighter as she got closer to her nightmare.

Pushing the door open Bucky stepped up first knocking the cobwebs out of the way before moving back to where he was before.

“Thanks” she whispered.

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. She chanted softly to herself as she forced her feet to move forward.

It was weird. As she walked further into the cabin she saw the small dinning table laying on its side, the two chairs broken and the small dingy couch still in the same spot as they were that night her father nearly killed her.

The floorboards creaked under their feet as they moved around the place.

“Th-this is where it happened” she whispers to Bucky as they stand in the middle of the room.

“Bun-“

“That’s my blood Duck” she points to the faded blood stains on the floor.

“Bun-“

“It’s creepy isn’t it? I laid right there and was on my way to play with angels before the cops showed up and now my blood is stained into the wood”

“Bun look at me, come on Bun look at me. Good, it’s okay. It’s all okay”

“I-I know it’s just creepy isn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah it is”

“Can I show you my room?”

“Okay”

Walking down the hallway she comes to a stop in front of the first door on the right and she starts to push the wooden door open, both wincing as the hinges squeak.

“Nothings changed in here ah” Y/n moves over to the tiny desk her mama had gotten her she smiles “look…”

“It’s a stick Bun”

“Ah nope it’s not any old stick Ducky, it’s the stick you picked up the second time we met”

“What? Really, you kept it?”

“Of course aha. Hey can you help me move this?”

“Sure”

They move the desk - well Bucky did whilst Y/n stands there and watches - Y/n thanks him before kneeling down on the floor and started to lift up the floorboard smiling in victory when she sees the metal tin her mama had put there when she was five.

“What is it?”

“This, this has my toys that my mama hid so that he wouldn’t break them” she sits with her legs crossed and smiles up at Bucky as he sits across from her.

“Toys?”

“Yeah, but not any old toys Duck, no these are animal toys-look” she groans as she pulls the lid open “this is a giraffe, this is a sheep? no a goat, and an elephant-“ she lists off all the animals in the box as she blindly hands them over to Bucky who’s sitting there with his eyes fixed on her, the way her smile lights up makes his heart tingle, the way she sounds so happy brings a smile to his face. It had been so long since her saw her shine so brightly.

“And here’s a photo of me and mama”

Taking the photo his eyes bounce from the photo to her, it was the first time since he was either eight or nine that he’d seen a photo of his Bunnies mom “you look just like her”

“No, she’s beautiful”

“Exactly.” He smiles when her cheeks start to go red. “Hey do you have anything of your mamas?”

“Just photos” she shrugs.

“Come” he helps her put all the toy animals back in the tin and stands, helping her raise too he takes her hand and asks “is this her room?”

“Yeah why?”

“Let’s see if there’s anything of hers still here so you can have them”

“Duck…”

“It’s okay Bunny” he opens the door instantly shutting it before placing his body in front of the door.

“James?”

“I-I-we can’t go in there Bun”

“I know. Is there still blood?”

“You know?”

“Yeah, that’s the reason why he nearly killed me that night. I tried to find my mama and went into her room and well, yeah”

“Oh Bun”

“It’s okay, I want to go in it might help me feel closer to my mama if I have something of hers”

“Just don’t look at the bed okay baby”

Baby. Her heart shouldn’t stutter the way it did.

“Okay”

Bucky opens the door making his way over to the bed to flip the quilt over so she doesn’t have to see the stains, again.

“She always wore this jumper, I put it on once and tripped over when I tried to walk” she giggles.

“Take it, what about this?” Bucky hold up a long skirt that had patterns on it.

“In the summer she would pull up over her chest so it was like a dress and look it has pockets!”

“Take?”

“Absolutely”

Over the course of twenty minutes Bucky had found a small suitcase and they filled it with all the clothes she wanted to take.

“Bun is this box your mamas?”

“Yeah it’s where her jewels lived.” Laughing when Bucky cocks his eyebrow up “I couldn’t say jewellery so mama said jewels and told me that the box was their home”

“Fair enough, would you like to take it?”

“Okay”

By the time they had finished it was close to being pitch black in the cabin. “Come on Duck its getting too dark to see anything now”

“Okay” as they moved their way through the cabin laughing at each other when the other had bumped into something, getting to the door Bucky stopped “wait a second Bun”

“Duck-“

“Gimme a second Bun”

He goes back inside and she giggles when she hears him say “ow” a few minutes he comes back out smiling whilst holding up the metal tin that housed her toy animals.

“Couldn’t forget this now could we?”

“Y/n? Where the hell have you been?”

“My old house…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah Ducky helped me get things that was my mamas”

“Ducky?” Both sets of parents say in unison.

“Yeah, we’re friends again”

Their dads, Bucky and Y/n all flinch when Maria and Winnie start screaming in joy, hugging each other whilst they jump around in a circle.

“Don’t even think about it George” Howard warns his longest friend as George slinks over to him.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about Howie”

“Don’t call me that!”

Bucky takes Y/n’s hand in his and slowly backs up whilst their dads argue.

“That was embarrassing” he laughs.

“It’s cute. Maybe we’ll be like that with our kids one day”

“W-what?” Bucky splutters, cheeks going bright red.

“N-no I mean me and my husband and you with your wife…you know?”

Before Bucky could reply they heard Sam’s voice from the doorway.

“Y/n…”

“Hi Sammy, hi Stevie”

Bucky watches as his three best friends reunite with each other, he has to admit that her comment about kids made his stomach flutter then drop when she mentions about her imaginary husband and his imaginary wife.

For the first time in three years Bucky felt whole once again.

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