#man if I knew how to make a game I’d totally make this into one xD

[massy2ly]

Fadel's ex stirring the pot and sparking theories again… Sorry, very, very sorry but… Ugh.

I just really don’t want it to be true that Lily offed this guy. But, damn, there are too many clues pointing that way, and it’s starting to bore me. I’d honestly rather he turned out to be the hitman she hired ages ago, or he just found out the truth and bounced.

Why? Because we’re down to the last three episodes, and Fadel is finally getting his heart together. Remember how wrecked he looked in that bar when he thought about the ex? If it turns out the ex is dead, it just reopens a wound he’s finally closing. From a storytelling point of view, it doesn’t add up. A guy who’s finally ready to move on, learning his ex got killed? Especially with only three episodes left? Nah, that’s a lot of unnecessary pain. Fadel, no matter how head over heels for Style he is, would have to deal with the grief of losing an innocent man he loved, all because of his own mess. It doesn't fit, especially when Fadel and Style are finally in a stable place and just dealing with the usual hitmen problems.

It’s bad enough Fadel’s about to find out Lily’s behind his parents’ deaths. If they tack on the ex’s tragic end, I’ll just sigh honestly. I don’t think it’s needed for the drama, not when Fadel’s finally in a good spot with his love life.

*Also, i’m sorry but you dated for two years and your brother knew nothing about it? But keen and Lily did? But you dated for two years and he never had suspicions about your job, when Style figured it out in a couple days? But Lily let you date this guy for two fucking years yet she is going after Style who you’ve known only for a few weeks? What is even going on? I’m a little tired y’all mmm*

That said, I can get behind the theories about the ex being a traitor meant to break Fadel’s heart. Wouldn’t be shocked if Lily’s played her usual mind games. But even then, it doesn’t totally make sense. First off, we don’t even know when the guy disappeared. If it was two years ago, then yeah, Lily and Keen probably had a hand in his death, which I’m not exactly stoked about. Second, it’s a bit of a stretch. Why go after Fadel and not Bison? Why target Fadel, when he’s always been loyal and crushed it in his missions? Bison’s the one who’s more unpredictable—she’d want to mess with him emotionally.

I don’t know. But I stand by what I said in one of my posts: I’d rather the truth be simple, like Fadel laid it out in episode 9. It’d be way better if the guy just found out what Fadel does for a living and walked away. There’s already enough chaos coming Fadel and Bison’s way. I just don’t see the point in ripping open a wound he’s finally healing.

[ariparri]

HPHM Cardverse Ad

HPHM Cardverse Masterlist

The Hogwarts Mystery Cardverse is an AU that takes place in a fantasy land called Cinderhaven. There are five regions, four of them representing a suit of cards; Spades, Clubs, Hearts, Diamonds. The final region representing the Jokers.

Warnings: None

Tag List: @catohphm @lifeofkaze @eternalchaoschocolaterain @oneirataxia-girl

If you want to be updated on content for the AU, let me know and I'll put you on the tag list!

A/N: Ads, ads, ads everywhere! What’s the point of telling Tumblr I’m not interested in them if they’re just gonna show it again after five damn posts?! .°(ಗдಗ。)°. Anyways, here have an ad for HPHM Cardverse. I finally got to draw Veruca in her rebels outfit! I actually like it, and I made use of her post Hogwarts hairstyle when she’s an auror. Also, yes, Gambat is gonna be Veruca's method of attack for her common sprite. Since Gambat actually has a major role during the rebellion by passing letters to and from Orion to keep him updated on Spades' situation.

❌ NO REPOSTING ❌

＊➖＊➖＊➖＊➖＊➖＊➖＊➖＊

As soon as the wolf and raven have fallen, the lioness shall bring forth an age of tyranny. 

Justice demands retribution!

Once steel turns to rust, the young sister of the wolf shall bring the rise of hope. It shall be then, when the air turns white and gray, the young woman shall cause an era of retribution and bring forth the downfall of unjust cruelty and oppression.

[poppyseed799]

I have this problem that’s like the opposite of nostalgia or something where some things I remember liking a lot as a child I look back and only remember the bad times.

This is specifically about Animal Crossing, loved that game as a kid, but I have literally no idea why, cuz it was just pure hell for me from what I can remember.

[sleep-0-deprived]

can i ask for the yan!roommate's reaction to the reader finding the camera in the bathroom and purposefully jacking off in front of it?

just found out about this blog and i am already hyped we need more subby yans in the world

Yandere roommate imagines (sub Yandere oc) ~!

A/N so the Yandere is just a random Oc you can imagine it as whoever I just needed a name for the fic! And you’re totally right there aren’t nearly enough sub Yandere as I’d like <33

Imagine you just got home from the gyms and all you wanna do is get into your shower you don’t have many other thoughts in your brain, you would have used the shower at the game but you have a “problem”~ between your legs and you knew you had to get home.

Imagine, you’re stripping your clothes cutting the hot water on as the mirror begins to fog up, your cock pressing to your stomach with precum oozing from the slit as you step in the shower running your fingers through your hair letting out a quiet grunt. You notice something from the corner of your eye when you’re looking up at the shower head, confused you reach for it picking it up you realize it’s a camera.

Imagine you already know who put the camera there I mean how could you not? There was only one man you knew creepy enough to wanna watch you shower and that was you’re roommate, and you know you felt a little generous you thought since you were already hard why not give him a show.

Imagine you sit the camera on a bath shelf and start speaking “I know you’re watching me Lucas” you grin as you bend down a little making sure your face was in full view as you use one hand to run down giving your pec a firm squeeze before gripping at your shaft giving one long stroke. On the other end of the camera Lucas sat in his room in the shared apartment nearly going feral when he sees your hand on your cock.

Imagine his face all red laying originally across his bed he soon gets up hurriedly trapping his laptop making sure the door was locked as he shakily grips the device for dear life feeling himself already aroused by the sight of you touching yourself, wanting nothing more than for your cock to be stuffed inside him as he rubs himself up against his matress letting out a few whines of desperation.

Imagine your hand holding your cock pointed straight at the camera giving him the perfect shot of your veins pulsing beneath your fingers while you bite at your bottom lip “didn’t know u had a total creep of a roommate, Lucas?~” you coo hazily standing in the shower the water running down your body down past your thighs with a few heaves meanwhile Lucas on the other hand wasn’t nearly as calm.

Imagine his hands fumbling with his zipper sitting the laptop on his bed as he pulls his boxers down placing the laptop on his pillows in front of his face as he drools, two fingers shoved between his lips with him laying on his stomach removing his fingers with them all coated in spit as he presses them to his rim pressing one finger in moving it in sync with your hand imagining it was your cock inside him as adrenaline fills his head making his body numb to the pleasure only becoming more infatuated with you each second as he murmurs out “y-es~” over and over.

Imagine when you cum you make sure your cock head is pointed directly at the camera lens, wanting him to see your red, angry looking tip when you climax. Your body tensing up intentionally not letting him see the face you make when you orgasm, only attempting to further tease your roommate with what he can’t seem to fully grasp hold of, which is you. “Hope you enjoyed my little show Lucas”

Imagine when Lucas sees that he’s in a whole other world of need, if he was feral before it was like he was a rabbit in the middle of heat because he pulled his hands away from himself with a little gasp while getting up not even bothering to turn his computer off, pouncing on you as soon as you make it to your bedroom with his brain all fuzzy and fast from your menacing taunts pulling your towel off.

Imagine your night ending with your roommate on top of you his thighs straddling you with his hands gripping your shoulders tightly mewling his lips all parted wide and his eyes half lidded and rolled back glossed over while he erratically lifts himself over and over again riding you harshly even when he feels like his rim is on fire from being stretched so long, you give his ass cheek a slap punching the ref handprint grumbling in his ear “this was what you wanted right?” As you hold his hip tightly grounding yourself deeper inside him pressing to his prostate roughly “then take it Lucas”

[4unnyr0se]

❥ OHMAMI | hajime iwaizumi

warnings: timeskip! iwaizumi, fem! reader, car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hickeys, degradation, manhandling, slight fingering, finger-sucking, riding, oikawa is mentioned a lot tbh, protective and possessive iwa

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 4.9k

a/n: okay i started this in early june and now im finishing it so im sorry if it doesnt make sense aaaa

❥ song: OHMAMI - chase atlantic

Iwaizumi was never the one people thought of when asked who their favorite member of the Aoba Johsai team was. He grew to accept it over time, albeit with spite and anger. Everyone was always wrapped up in what Oikawa was doing, wondering who would be his next girlfriend of the week. It was gross how Oikawa hogged all the girls; how could he be so selfish? Fucking jackass. 

Naturally, it was a relief when he graduated. Sure, Aoba Johsai never went to nationals (and yes, it very much stung), but the memories were important, right? Hitting perfect spike after spike, smacking Oikawa around, hearing that glorious school cheer, Iwaizumi had to admit he would miss it. Not the part where Oikawa kept all the girls to himself. 

Graduation came and went, and so did university. It was a breeze. Sports medicine was not a challenging major; he was just really good at the subject. Another graduation came, and Iwaizumi could only think about you and that pretty, perfect face. You were his closest friend in high school, and sadly, you drifted apart during university. You were studying Japanese literature or something, he didn’t remember. It’s not his fault; he was just too busy getting girls for the first time in a while. Totally not his fault…right?

Iwaizumi wasn’t doing himself any fucking favors, he thought about you too much for his own good. Whether Aoba Johsai lost or how insufferable Oikawa was, you were always there for him. You let him lean against your shoulder and complain about his day, his disheveled and messy uniform giving him an even more thuggish appearance. The way your soft, almost angelic hands massaged his scalp, assuring him that he would be okay.  Oh, how he longed for your fingers in his spiky hair again. He had forgotten your scent, your sweet floral scent. Was it roses or lavender? Maybe lilac? Although all the girls in high school wore the same body sprays, yours was different. Was it because you were never scared of him to begin with? Fuck, he missed you.

He sat on the bench in the empty locker room of the gym he worked at, a hot towel draped around broad shoulders as he began to lose himself in his fond high school memories. Images danced around in his mind of your sweet face smiling at him for the first time, the words “Don’t worry, I’ll help you study for the English test!” leaving your soft lips. At least, Iwaizumi thought they were soft. No, he knew they were soft. God, you were so kind to him. You even ignored Oikawa’s advances towards you, which made him blush and gain so much respect for you in an instant. “Man, I’d really like to punch that guy in his dumb face.” you snickered, covering your bright smile. Iwaizumi swore he could marry you right then and there.

From that moment on, he was your closest friend. You went to all his practices and games, cheering for him when no one else would. “Nice kill, Iwa!” you would shout from the bleachers, proudly wearing a spare version of his jersey. His jersey. If Iwaizumi had no supporters, you were dead. The two of you were inseparable until university rolled around, and Iwaziumi became stupidly popular with the ladies. And sure, college girls were pretty and incredibly loose, but they weren’t you. No one was you, and he missed you every day.

Iwaizumi grunted as he stood up, tossing the towel into a basket. He stepped out of the locker room with his hands in his pockets, whistling a song from his cardio playlist. It was around ten at night, and his gym was one of the few open so late, so there wasn’t anyone there except the front receptionist girl who flirted with every guy who walked in. Truly, he couldn’t ask for better entertainment. 

“Yo,” Iwaizumi leaned across the desk, stealing an electrolyte drink from the employee minifridge. There’s no one here; you should just go home. It’s getting late.” The cool drink touched his lips, the cherry flavoring subtle. “If the boss gives you any crap, you can blame me. I don’t mind.”

The receptionist eagerly stood up and practically ran out the door, throwing her time card at him. “Clock me out!” she shouted halfway out the automatic door. Iwaizumi sighed and shoved the time card in his sweats. She really was a ditz, but at least she got people to sign up for VIP memberships. 

He clocked her out and went to his favorite spot in the gym where he usually deadlifts. Unfortunately, there was no one to spot him. Iwaizumi was a jock, but he certainly wasn’t dumb. There was no way he was dying because he got crushed by a fucking barbell. There is no chance in hell. 

His rough and calloused hands decided just to lift weights instead. That was simpler, more safe. He flipped on his headphones and selected a tune from his more…sensual playlist. It's a sensual indie R&B song that could make anyone feel like a sex god. Why was that song on his playlist? He couldn’t tell you. Once again, Iwaizumi became lost in his thoughts as he lifted the weights up and down with such ease. He worked out for health benefits, but just something about staring at his physique in the mirror made it all worth it. Damn, did he look fine as hell. He was ashamed of how long it took him to realize that he was stupidly attractive, and it took a lot of skill not to develop a massive ego around his looks. 

The automatic doors slid open, the dinging sound drowned out by his noise-canceling headphones. His green eyes locked on the floor mat below him, concentrating on passing the time by any means necessary. He paused briefly when he saw two tiny white sneakers enter his field of vision, standing considerably close to his muscular form. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled, placing the weights on the ground. “Music’s loud, y’know?” His eyes trailed upwards until they finally met your gaze, his pupils shrinking in shock. His hands gripped his headphones, softly filling the room with sensual music. “Holy shit.” Iwaizumi’s mouth was agape. He looked like a fool. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi, Iwa.” you smiled brightly, taking his headphones from his rough hands and placing them around his thick neck. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Three years, I think.” Fuck, he forgot how much smaller your hands were to his own. It’s so cute.

“Three years since university, yeah,” Iwaizumi mumbled, wiping the glistening sweat away from his forehead. “I can’t believe it’s been that long. You don’t look any different. Not that it’s a bad thing!” he stumbled on his words, silently cringing at his immature actions. He never got this flustered. He hasn’t been in a while. Less than a minute talking to you, and he was a stammering mess. This wasn’t like him at all. His tough persona might as well be tossed out the window. 

You offered him another sweet smile and rubbed his shoulder, the sweat not bothering you in the slightest. “Change is a good thing, y’know,” your words were gentle and comforting, oozing with wisdom beyond your years. Another thing Iwaizumi thought was perfect about you was that you always knew the right thing to say. “You’ve changed too. You’re way more buff than the last time we saw each other!”

“Damn right,” he smirked, subtly flexing his biceps. Were you looking? He hoped so. “I’m a personal trainer, so I gotta stay in shape. Plus, I train Oikawa, so whenever I’m pissed off, I just do a couple sets.”

“You still hang out with Oikawa? I thought you hated him.” you raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on your hips quizically. 

“I’m getting paid to tell him what workouts he should do. Can’t complain about that money,” Iwaizumi rubbed the back of his head, fluffing out his spiky hair. “Besides, I’m allowed to kick his ass whenever I want. That asshole deserves it. He somehow got even more cocky after he got back from Argentina.”

You rolled your eyes and found a nearby workout bench, crossing your legs over each other. “I didn’t think Loserkawa could become even more full of himself. You’d think being in a foreign country would humble him slightly.”

“Right?” a deep chuckle escaped his chapped lips as Iwaizumi sat beside you, minding the distance. He bit down on his lower lip slightly, just for a moment. Would you mind if he sat closer to you, like in high school? “He even started speaking Spanish, but he’s not allowed to do that around me.”

“Because you’ll throw a dumbbell at him?”

“Because I’ll throw a dumbbell at him.”

You giggled and scooted closer to Iwaizumi, the scent of sweat mixed with his cologne filling your nostrils. He smelled more mature than in high school, but that’s a given. “I see you’re still the same ol’ spikey-haired guy.” you ruffled his hair, knowing that you were the only one who could do that without getting a beatdown. 

Iwaizumi blushed, averting his eyes from your gaze. Fuck, he really missed your touch. “So, uh, what brings you to the gym? Were you looking for a membership or something?” 

You shook your head, casually wrapping your arm around his shoulder. Were you trying to kill him? “Nah. If I’m being honest, I saw you in one of the windows while I was out for an evening walk. It’s been a while, so I wanted to say hi.” You momentarily looked down at your shoes, a faint blush gracing your cheeks. “Besides, I missed you.”

“You walked here by yourself? At night? Are you crazy?” Iwaizumi shouted, grasping your shirt to pull you closer. “It’s not safe at night. You didn’t have anyone to protect you! Do you know how stupid that sounds?” his nostrils flared, a mixture of anxiety and rage overcoming him. “What if something happened?”

You gasped, your brow furrowing. “Well, excuse me! I didn’t know I needed permission from someone I haven’t spoken to in three years to take a fucking walk!” you ripped his hand away from your shirt. 

Iwaizumi groaned, hanging his head. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just…” he took a deep breath. “It’s not safe for someone like you at night, and I’d never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you because you wanted to see me.” 

You rolled your eyes and pulled his chin up, staring into his oceans of green. “Just because you’re worried about someone doesn’t give you an excuse to be an asshole about it,” you smiled in assurance. “Next time, I’ll bring something to defend myself. Okay?”

Iwaizumi smirked. “You’re the only person allowed to call me an asshole, y’know that? If you were anybody else, I’d beat your skull in.

“Then I’m lucky that I happen to still be Hajime Iwaizumi’s favorite person after all these years,” you bit down on your lower lip. “Unless…you have a girlfriend. Then she’s probably your favorite person.”

“No girlfriend, I don’t have the time,” he shook his head, moving himself closer. “I had a girlfriend before, but then-”

“Oikawa took her from you?” you cut him off.

“Fucking Oikawa took her from me. He dated her for two weeks, then dumped her for someone he met at a bar. Can you believe that?” he clenched his fist.

“Unfortunately, I can,” you gave an exasperated sigh. “I guess Oikawa will always be Oikawa.”

“God help us,” Iwaizumi chuckled. “Hey, I gotta lock up the gym. Can you wait outside, and then I can drive you home?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna be a bother.”

“Why would you be a bother? I’m just keepin' you safe, dummy.” Iwaizumi assured you, getting up and brushing off his pants. “Wait here. I’ll come to get you. I don’t want you standing outside. There’s a lot creeps around here who want nothing more than to get close to a pretty girl like you.” he turned around, not realizing that he had just complimented you. You were left with a brighter blush on your face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Did Iwaizumi think you were pretty after all this time?

Eventually, he finished what he needed to do to close up the gym: he wiped down all the machines and ensured everything was organized for the morning shift. He grabbed you by the wrist and practically dragged you out of the gym, having an unusually tight grip.

“Dude, what are you doing? I know how to walk,” you tugged your wrist away from his hand, rubbing it. “You’re acting weird. Did something happen when you were cleaning up? “I just don’t want you to stray too far, that’s all. Keep close to me, or else I might end up killing somebody.” he shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweats, making his way to the car. He was weirdly protective over you, but it only bothered you slightly. 

Having your big, strong best friend wanting nothing more than to keep you safe in a parking lot was…well, it was sexy. Iwaizumi was sexy, and he knew it. You wondered if he knew that you thought so, too. How, when you were in high school, you would daydream about him pinning you against the wall and kissing you until you couldn’t breathe. How your mind would wander in college, staring at him from across the dining hall, watching as he unconsciously flexed his biceps in such a way that made you swoon every single time.

With his hand wrapped protectively over your shoulder, he clicked the keyfob and unlocked his car. It was a larger vehicle, boasting proud rims on the tires. “You can get in the passenger seat. I have snacks in the glove compartment if you’re hungry.”

“Since when do you have snacks in the car?” you sat in the passenger seat, buckling up. “That doesn’t seem very healthy, Mr. Personal Trainer.” you giggled, making air quotes. 

He playfully rolled his eyes, getting into the driver's seat. “I have to drive long distances for work sometimes. So, to keep me sane, I keep little snacks in my glove compartment. Granola and crap like that. Protein bars.” 

“Oh, so snacks that aren’t actually snacks?” you winked. 

“Shut up,” he clicked his seatbelt in, revving the car. “Do you wanna choose what we listen to or not? Also, type your address into the GPS while at it.”

“Or I could look through your messages.”

Iwaizumi shot you a glare. “Don’t even joke about that.”

You giggled, typed in your address, and then opened Spotify. “You have a lot of playlists. Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders, flexing the muscles. Fuck, he was so fucking sexy. “I dunno, I guess I just have one for every occasion. When you’re working with Oikawa, music typically helps,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You can pick from any song on any playlist.”

“Then I choose this one,” you selected OHMAMI, handing him back his phone. “It’s from your playlist that has a heart emoji as the title. What’s that for?”

Iwaizumi felt his face become overrun with a blazing blush. His hands gripped the steering wheel as he pulled out of his parking spot, turning the car towards the exit. “Oh, uh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“But I wanna know!” you whined, crossing your arms over your chest. “C’mon, we just caught up a second ago, but you never kept any secrets from me.”

He sighed and bit down on his bottom lip. “Fuck, okay. Fine,” he took a deep breath. “It’s…this song is from my sex playlist. Specifically from college.”

Your pupils blew up, your hand immediately flying to your mouth to stifle a chuckle. “You have a sex playlist? And this is a song on it?”

“That’s what I just fucking said, didn’t I?” his face was red and anger and embarrassment. “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you!”

“Iwa,” you tapped his thigh. “Sorry for laughing. It’s just that sex playlists are usually romantic and, no offense, but you never seemed like a romantic kind of guy.” 

He furrowed his brow. “I can be romantic, “ he made a sharp left turn. “I just haven’t had a reason to in a while, that’s all.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, man,” you pouted. “I’m sure someone will come along that can make you want to use this playlist again.” you smiled at him, flashing your teeth.

“Yeah, hopefully,” Iwaizumi sighed, stealing a glance at you. You were perfect, absolutely perfect. He was mentally kicking himself for not making a move. But then again, there was a sexy song playing, so the mood was set. Maybe you wouldn’t mind if his hand squeezed your thigh, dancing lower and lower. Maybe you wouldn’t mind at all. 

He continued to drive, the music from the stereo being the only thing to prevent the car from being silent. His mind wandered places: obscene, filthy places. He wondered what noises you would make if he ate your pussy out in the passenger seat. Would you taste as sweet as he imagined? Iwaizumi just knew your pussy was tight, how it would flutter around his cock as he bounced you up and down on it in the backseat, your hand flat against the roof of his car with the music blaring. He was so deep in thought that he neglected to realize the tent growing in his sweats. But you noticed.

Your eyes darted back and forth to his hard-on, squeezing your legs together at the sight. You suspected he was hiding a monster down there, and now you were sure of it. Surprisingly, Iwaizumi never got hard around you before today, at least not to your knowledge. It was like it was calling you to, desperate for your hands to slide up and down.

“Uh, Iwa?” you groaned, crossing your legs over each other. 

“Hm?” he didn’t take his eyes off the road.

“You have like…a huge boner right now.” you blushed furiously, cringing to yourself. Could you have chosen a more awkward set of words?

Iwaizumi choked on his breath, swerving the car slightly. He glanced down at his sweats, and lo and behold, he was hard. “O-Oh, fuck. Shit, that wasn’t supposed to happen.” he groaned, clenching onto the steering wheel once more.

You squirmed in your seat. “Hey man, don’t worry about it. You can’t control when you get hard, right? S’not a problem.”

He thought for a moment, mumbling under his breath. He canceled the navigation and pulled the car into a parking lot by an abandoned gas station frequented by local teenagers. Luckily, there was no one there right now. “I can’t,” he breathed in, refusing to meet your gaze. “I can’t control it when I’m around you,” he parked the car. “You drive me so fucking crazy.”

You squeezed onto the leather seats, your face still blazing red. “You’re telling me that I made your dick hard?” 

“Yeah, that’s what I just fucking said.” he groaned, unclicking his seatbelt. His eyes finally met yours, full of want. “You made me hard, princess.”

Princess. The nickname rang in your ears. Fuck, it was like hot honey rolling off his chapped lips. “Iwa…” you breathed out, gasping as he tugged on the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. The center console was the only thing that separated you two. 

“Princess,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long. Ever since you said, you wanted to punch Shittykawa in the face.”

“Really?”

“Really.” his eyes landed on your lips, beautiful and begging to be kissed. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long. Please,” his hot breath grazed your cheek. “Please tell me that you want me to. But I’m warning you right now,” he kissed your burning skin. “Once you tell me you do, I won’t hold myself back anymore.”

A sensation began to bubble inside your belly, his words causing your core to throb with want. You parted your lips, wetting them with your tongue. “Iwa,” your voice was barely a whisper. “Please, I want you.”

Iwaizumi let go of your shirt, his eyes flaring with passion and lust. “Get in the backseat, now.” he growled, climbing over the center console. You eagerly followed him, finding a spot on his lap. His hands secured themselves on the fat of your hips, making sure you didn’t go anywhere. It's not like you wanted to, anyway. 

“I’ve been waiting for this for so fucking long, princess,” he groaned before slamming his lips against yours in a frenzy. His lips assaulted yours, greedy and shameless. Your mind became TV static, your lips dancing with his as if it was a reflex, as if you had done this a million times before. You moaned into the kiss as he groped you without a care, his hands slipping under the hem of your gym shorts. You gasped as his warm hands wandered, exploring you as if he was attempting to map out your perfect curves.

His hand was scolding hot as it ventured to finger the elastic, ripping the cheap fabric. He swallowed your surprised gasp, smirking into the kiss. “Fuckin’ cheap fabric,” he growled, his hand massaging up and down your panties. “I’ll buy you a new pair, don’t worry, your pretty lil’ head about it.” 

Iwaizumi broke the kiss, resting his head in the crook of your neck while his fingers continued their gentle dance across your clothed, dripping cunt. The digits ran up and down the soaked material, causing him to shudder. “Fuck, you’re this wet from just a kiss?” he groaned against your neck, the sharpness of his canines grazing the sensitive skin. He could have sworn he could hear your heartbeat coming from the veins. Your pulse was thundering, it was fucking addictive. His lips ventured up and down your delicate neck, leaving wanting, open-mouthed kisses in the spots that made you squirm so beautifully on your lap. His teeth nibbled down on your sweet spot, causing your hips to buck into his hard-on.

“Needy fucking girl,” his voice rumbled, fingers dipping into your panties to toy with your sobbing slit. You whimpered, resting your forehead onto his own as the calloused pads of his thick fingers teased your clit. “Fuck, you’re soaked. D’ya even need me to finger this pussy, or are you such a fucking slut that you’re this wet all the time?” his hands cracked against your ass. “Hm? Talk to me, princess.”

“Only you!” you yelped. Iwaizumi chuckled darkly, lifting his head from your neck to greet you with a blown-out stare. His eyes told you everything you needed to know; they told you that he wanted to fucking ruin you on his cock like he’s been wanting to all these years.

“That’s what I like to fucking hear,” he slapped your ass again, making you gasp and jolt. His lips quickly met yours once more as his finger bullied its way inside your cunt, curling inside without mercy or forgiveness. “Shit, you’re squeezing around my finger. Do you really need to get fucked that fucking bad, hm? Is my girl a little slut?”

“M’not a slut!” you sobbed, tossing your head back. Your hands gripped his muscular shoulders with white-hot-knuckle strength, making Iwaizumi hiss in pain. Not that he was complaining. He fucking loved it.

“Fuck, I can’t take this anymore,” he pulled his finger out of your weeping cunt, licking off your slick. “Ya taste so fucking good, shit,” he groaned, sliding off his sweatpants and boxers so that his cock could spring free. You moaned at the sight, taking in his magnificent length. He was small by no means necessary, boasting a lengthy and girthy cock with an angry red tip that was leaking precum. “Turn around and hover above it.”

You did as he instructed, pushing your ruined panties to the side so your pulsating core was just above his angry cock. His hands snaked around the small of your waist, pulling your flush up against his chest. “You’re gonna be a good fucking slut and let me fuck you on this cock, yeah? If I think you’re being too quiet for even a second,” his voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”

“Iwa,” your words died on your tongue as his fingers were abruptly shoved into your mouth, making you gag.

“Don’t fucking call me Iwa,” he demanded, his cock teasing your entrance. “It’s Hajime now. Don’t be a dumbass and forget it when I’m breaking you on this cock. Am I clear, pretty girl?”

You nodded, tears swelling in your eyes. His fingers slid out of your mouth and back onto your hips, squeezing the fat. “Be a good little slut and take this cock,” he growled, biting down harshly onto your neck before slamming you onto his cock without mercy, refusing to give your tight pussy anytime to adjust. 

“Oh god, yes,” Iwaizumi moaned against your neck, bouncing you expertly on his length. His eyes were hooded with lust and desire as he looked over your shoulder. The sight of your pussy swallowing his cock was magnificent. Especially how you struggled to take his length, you poor thing. Maybe he’ll be nicer to you next time. “Do you see yourself, princess? That pretty pussy is swallowing me whole. Good fucking girl.”

You writhed and squirmed on his lap, helpless as Iwaizumi used you like a toy. His hands reached around to pull down your top, exposing your bralette to the hot atmosphere. He pulled your bra down as well, shamelessly pinching and squeezing your pillowy mounds as his cock drove itself inside you with reckless abandon. 

“Y’been hiding these perfect tits from me too? Naughty fucking girl,” his hand dropped your breast and smacked your clit, earning a shriek from your bruised lips. “Can’t believe I waited this fucking long to grope these tits, fuck. I wonder what else you’re hiding, hm?” his hips never relented, continuing their rushed and desperate pace in harsh and fast strokes. 

“You look like such a slut right now. God, I wish I could see that pretty face,” he purred against the shell of your ear, licking the cartilage. His praise was so fucking addictive, making you shamelessly clench on his cock. “Oh, y’like when I call you pretty? Get fucking used to it.”

“I’m gonna make you ruin yourself on me,” his voice rasped, the tip of his cock twitching inside of you. “You’re gonna cum all over this fucking cock, and then I’ll cum inside, yeah? No one’s ever gonna fuck this pretty cunt again unless I say so. Until your Hajime says so, okay, princess?” he smacked your clit again, gathering your slick on his fingers. “Who’s the only one that can fuck this pretty pussy?”

“You! It’s yours, Hajime!” you sobbed, the rest of your meaningless rambling dying on your lips as he shoved his fingers inside your mouth once more. Your tongue wrapped around the digits, tasting your delicious slick. Your pussy fluttered around his cock, trying to pull him impossibly deeper inside of you. You were so fucking greedy.

Iwaizumi snarled against your neck, fucking you even harder. His hips continued to snap as he drove himself deeper and deeper inside, the sensation of your pussy doing its best to milk him being all that he needed. “You’re gonna fucking cum, yeah? That’s it, princes, make a fucking mess on me. Get your Hajime all sticky with your cum like a good fucking girl.”

With Iwaizumi’s encouragement, you finally let go. You came with a wanton sob, the bubbles in your belly boiling over to send you crashing over the edge and into oblivion. You could have sworn you saw white. Iwaizumi fucked you through it, whispering sweet nothings as your release coated his cock. 

“Oh, shit,” he groaned into your neck, biting down once more on the bruised skin as his cock twitched one final time, his release spilling inside to fill your cunt up so nicely. “Good fucking girl, take it all.” his hands fell to his hips, slumping against the leather seat.

“Hajime,” you groaned, reluctantly pulling yourself off his cock. His cum ran down your ruined thighs, mixing with your slick. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that.” you offered him a weak smile, staring at your ripped and forgotten-about jean shorts. “Dammit, you ripped them! These were my favorite pair. And now I don’t have any pants!” you scolded him, hitting him over the head with the fabric. “We’re in a parking lot, and I have no damn pants!”

“Relax,” he sighed, pulling up his pants and boxers. “Did you forget I was driving you home? Besides,” he pecked your lips. “I’m coming over, and we’re gonna cuddle and shit. Whatever you want.” he blushed, not meeting your gaze. He was still scared of you seeing him blush even after you were so intimate.

“Whatever I want?” you teased. “You’re cute when you get all flustered, Hajime.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

[free-for-all-fics]

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.

OR

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.

OR

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?

OR

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.

[sayyestoheav3nn]

The First Night: Nights Like This Short

Roman x black!oc

Warnings: none

Word count: 500

a/n: most likely won’t have part four posted till this weekend so i figured i’d write a short of their first interaction 🙃 if you would like to be added to the tag list pls lmk 🤍

There’s no denying that this man was extremely attractive. Zoe has seen him on tv plenty of times, but it’s a totally different ball game seeing him in person. Roman had such a strong presence when he walked into a room, she couldn’t help but to let her eyes wander when he wasn’t looking. He had just finished his match, his body was still shiny and oiled, she was close enough to see a few beads of sweat slowly making their way down his abs.

As he was talking to their boss Hunter, she noticed how sharp his jawline was, shit could probably cut through glass if he tried. Zoe was so entranced by this man’s physique that she hadn’t even noticed he was looking right at her. Roman had a small smirk, she panicked and quickly looked away, praying there was a chance that he didn’t actually see her. She glanced a few minutes later hoping to see that he was gone, little did she know he was walking towards her. Shit.

“So you gon’ keep staring or are you gonna introduce yourself?” He chuckled.

Embarrassment. That would be the best way to describe what she was feeling right now, but as humiliating as this moment was, for some reason she started to feel her cheeks blush.

“I’m just messing with you, what’s your name?” A small grin formed on his face.At this point there was nothing she could do other than to get this over with.

“Z—Zoe, nice to meet you ,” she stammered.

Zoe never gets nervous when it comes to men, that got old a long time ago but it seems her confidence immediately starts to go out the window with him. The way Roman towered over her made her knees slightly weak, she leaned against the wall hoping it would keep her from stumbling.

“You were at Kayla’s goodbye party right?”

She nodded yes. She couldn’t help but to look at his beautiful big brown eyes, they were so distracting in the best way possible. Roman subtly eyed her lips and cleavage, which made her heart start beating fast.

“Why didn’t you stay?”

“I didn’t know anyone there other than Kayla, so I didn’t really have a reason to.”

“You could’ve talked to me,” he muttered.

She let out a small laugh, “I was going to but Paul said you didn’t like to be bothered.”

His eyebrows furrowed, he actually seemed surprised.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore , I’ll handle it.”

“M—My Tribal Chief you’re needed, they’ve s-started to grow impatient,” the chunky man’s cheeks reddened. Roman rolled his eyes and started backing away.

“Hope to see you around Zo,” he winked at her while walking away.

Zoe didn’t know much about Roman other than the fact that he looked like a man who was designed by God himself. The one thing she knew for sure, was that she was looking forward to seeing him again.

[trinlovessoobin]

fireworks 🎆

{I.N x fem!reader}

1.2k words

quick discrimination: you’re brought to a new year’s party by your friend, she quickly leaves you to go off with a boy so you linger around the party alone until a loner just like you keeps you company.

18+

[warning of content] smut, hard sex, unprotected sex(use protection guys), back-shots, drinking, profanity, drunk sex.

You were nervous about the party, you knew you were only going to know the person bringing you. But your best friend Yuna insisted that you come “It’s New Year’s Eve!! Everyone parties you have to party!” she told you as she had you change into a sparkly two-piece set was a mini skirt and crop top, then she dragged you out of the house. You were a little excited though. You didn’t like party’s but you loved alcohol especially free alcohol.

When you and your friend arrived it was a penthouse in a New York apartment building. You could see the New York parade and where they dropped the ball. You were impressed. The place was packed and immediately Yuna brought you to the drink table and started mixing up herself and your drink she knew your love for alcohol so she made yours a little stronger.

“drink up! Liquid courage babe”

After that Yuna scurried off, and she saw her boy toy Hyunjin.

You walked around the penthouse looking out the floor-to-ceiling window, the whole penthouse was dark but with these blue lights around and one spotlight in the kitchen for the drinks while looking out the window and watching all the people waiting for the ball you felt a presence stand beside you.

“we’ve got just an hour left, then we’re in 2025”

You look up to see the man beside you he’s just a bit taller than you but he has these strong festers and sharp eyes that soften after you two make eye contact.

“you’re the only other person here by themselves besides me, how does a pretty girl like you end up alone on New years… unless you are waiting for someone”

You look up and him and smile shyly at the compliment.

“no, I’m not waiting for anyone. I came here with my friend shes off somewhere probably with her man”

he laughs “Me too well my friend isn’t off with his man he’s off with his girl… I’m Jeongin by the way”

“I’m y/n, I’m about to get another drink wanna come with?”

“I’d love to”

You both walk over to the kitchen, get your drinks and notice people are setting up beer pong and you look at Jeongin look at the beer pong then look back at Jeongin.

“We should play,” Jeongin says with a slight laugh.

“oooo great idea,” you say excitingly.

Once you walk up to the table low and behold it’s Yuna and her man.

“Yo Hyunjin, we’re about to totally destroy you guys”

“wait you know them?? That’s Yuna, my friend”

“must be fate,” Jeong says winking

You both start playing Jeongin is bad at the game and you end up carrying but Hyunjin and Yuna win.

“What happened to totally destroying them innie? That was awful you suck”

“it’s the thought that counts,” he says with a pout.

“more drinks! More drinks!” you say exactly your definitely a little drunk now.

“I’m not sure if you need more”

“but I want”

“let’s get you some water,” he says leading you back into the kitchen he gets one of the water bottles from the cooler.

“thank you,” you say taking the water and giving him a quick peck on the cheek

“only 30 minutes left, any last 2024 wishes?”

“Just one.”

You smile slyly and take his hand walking into one of the empty bedrooms upstairs.

“look even the spare bedrooms have floor-to-ceiling windows, rich people”

You say looking at him, the only light coming from the window. You walk up to him and put your hands on his neck.

“Are you sure? Is the alcohol influencing you?”

“not influencing just giving me some confidence”

“if you insist”

He leans in and kisses you softly and moves you over to the bed leaning you down and keeping your lips connected. The kiss becomes more intense you both become desperate for more. Jeongin moves to your neck nipping it between kisses one hand on your neck and the other on your ass. Your hands move down to his chest and start to unbutton his dress shirt.

“hey, innie?”

“hmm?” he responds humming into your neck.

“how’s your pull-out game?”

You feel him smile against your neck and move now hovering over you.

“Baby, you know it. Now let’s get these clothes off of you they cannot be comfortable.”

He quickly takes off his shirt then unzips your top and slides off your skirt, cheetah print matching lingerie set underneath. Put the biggest grin on his face.

“you’re so hot”

You bite your bottom lip and unbutton his pants.

“15 minutes till midnight, I’m gonna fuck you into the new year”

Your body tenses up, he places a kiss on your stomach he gets on his knees on the floor and pulls your legs to the edge of the bed kissing your inner thighs and slides down your underwear placing his lips on your folds before sucking on your clit your back arches slightly from the sensation he fucks you with his tongue right before you’re close he stops.

“wait why’d you stop?” you say panting

He just stands up at the end of the bed still between your legs he takes off his pants and briefs it is big, bigger than you thought it would be you take a breath and bite your lip bracing yourself, he notices your reaction and leans in to whisper.

“just let me know if it’s too much baby, 5 minutes till midnight”

“fuck me hard Jeongin”

He smirks leans back up and flips you over onto your stomach “Get on your hands and knees, I want you to see the ball drop while I'm balls deep in you”

You do as he says and now you and him are both facing the window that overlooks Times Square. He aligns himself up with you starting slow while he stretches you. But you can feel yourself mold around him he picks up his pace and grabs your hair lifting your head and placing his other hand on your tit fondling your nipple you moan that was your sensitive spot he goes even fasting the room is filled with smacking and muffled music from outside he pulls you up so your body’s are aligned while he’s still fucking you from behind he moves one hand to your clit and starts circling motion while his other hand his holding you up you start to hear the people outside the room counting down. You’ve already orgasmed 3 times and he’s getting hit ready for your fourth he picks up his pace even more than you didn’t even know he could. 5…..4…..3…..2….1….happy new year

You hear the people outside the room cheer and look out the window to see confetti in the air and fireworks go off.

“I’m gonna cum” you say once more.

“cum for me baby, cum all over my dick. I’m close”

You cum, your walls tightening around his member you lean back down into doggy style you can no longer hold yourself up, Jeongin pulls out and cums all over your ass and back.

“fuck, let me get a rag” he hops off the bed luckily there’s a bathroom in the bedroom he comes back with a warm slightly damp rag and cleans you up then leans back onto you and speaks softly into your ear.

“happy new year, can you believe we have been fucking since 2024???”

You giggle and turn over and pull him into a kiss. You pull away and just stare at him

“Happy New Year”

[shellxrls]

okay let’s talk about how John b fucks. because ohmyfuckinggod

he has such and incredible, immaculate, crazy, aneurism inducing stroke game I cannot even begin to describe it. he just gets it. like ughhh.

he’s so thick and girthy and his VEINS!!! ugh. like I swear it just makes it even better. he has this one vein that runs alll the way down the underside of his cock NMFJFJDH. perfection.

okay I’m going off topic. when John b fucks. he takes it seriously. he will never, and I mean never intentionally neglect someone that he loves. and he is very very firm about that rule in the bedroom.

he always takes it slow at the beginning. he is amazing with the foreplay. sloppy kisses and HEAD!!! AMAZING HEAD!!!! and fingering. oh the fingering.

he knows he’s big, and he knows that it’s nearly impossible to get used to like ughhgh. has to spend minutes jst using his fingers to get me stretched out and ready.

and yall already know HE TALKS THROUGH IT!!! he uses the nickname ‘dolly’ which honestly I wasn’t expecting but I did not complain I can tell you that.

he lovessss pretty noises, and honestly acts like he’s not expecting it and maybe he isn’t but like.. ?? you really expect me not to whimper when ur four fingers knuckles deep inside??

but genuinely, he’s so soothing and lovely. comforting works and always coaxing sweetly.

the foreplay varies by instance but the sex is almost always the same. medium paced, gentle but rough, and soooo just ugh. makes the brain go to mush on autopilot.

he’s just so daddy. like omg. omg. ugh. daddy. he is daddy. daddy is him. I cannot exaggerate this enough.

he is dick is so perfect literally every time he goes in he hits that spot. you know the spot.

he makes these little grunting noises every time he thrusts in it’s so hawt like omg.

he LOVES a good mating press.

he’s also a titty sucker. and. he is. a. TOTAL. munch. he’s so sloppy when he’s suckin on the clit all perfect.

and you bet he does not EVER struggle to find the clit either. this man has experience.

he is also HEAVY. like his whole person he jst pins me down so effortlessly ugh. he literally radiates dominance.

he’s also a chronic clit rubber 🤞🏻always had a thumb on my clit over my shorts or under my skirt.

and he reeks of casual dominance. if I’m being bratty or just whiny he’ll just cup my pussy like it’s nothing. talking in that low voice like SLUT ME OUT.

he lovesss receiving head. normally he’ll be sitting down, me on my knees infront of him. he holds my hair back and guides me <333 ugh he is just SO daddy.

he also loves dry humping <3 ugh like if we’re outside the chateau at sunset n ill just hump on him for ages like YESSS.

also this surprised me but he has a mild choking kink, not like hardcore but he’ll wrap a hand round the throat definitely, even if he doesn’t apply too much pressure.

he’s also a pretty moaner <3

massive breeding kink too!!!! like ugh mhh ohh I love it. he shoots BIG loads so those creampies are immaculate.

when it’s all finished he’ll dip and hand down and scoop some of his cum up and feed it to me <333 mhh

and he is the KING!!! of aftercare. the absolute sweetest. has a checklist in his mind of things to make sure we both keep up our personal hygiene during and after sex. always wiped me up and is very avid that I don’t do too much very physical stuff after cause he fucks for a long time and he fucks deep so bet I’ll be tired af.

lots of cuddles and kisses <33 ugh love him.

okay I think that’s all the points but if I’ve missed anything out or if there’s anything else yall wanna know lmk!!

- rafe shifter

CRYING SCREAMING THIS IS MY BIBLE. this is my holy text oh my god.

PLSS i know that one vein must jut out and feel so fucking GOOD ohmygosksjsjdk.

i can’t even function him just being casually dominant and so daddy mode is making me SICK . clenching my thighs i knew he wld be like this <33.

‘dolly’ IS SO CUTE IM SICK PLEASE. it’s def the grandpa in him and i’d say it to his face no shame 🙏🏼.

i can imagine the grunts i know they’re practically punched outta him with every grind and thrust AGH !!

love that he uses your clit like a little fidget toy that so cute !! i’d never stop wearing shorts and skirts around him tbh bcuz that’s daddy wdym !!

also jeez i need to write a breath play drabble with him now bcuz i’d never though ab it before but i bet those biceps are perfect for choking someone out <3.

i love him so much and once again THANK YOU BABES !! cannot ever say it enough honestly this has been the highlight of my week and i love talking ab it with you <3.

[dmwrites]

Grian didn’t choose the CuteGuy lifestyle as much as it was thrust upon him. He had made one joke (just one!) about how he could be HotGuy’s sidekick, CuteGuy, and Scar went nuts. Within a week, a shulker box had been delivered to his base, containing some flashy pink clothes, a huge bow with a deadly-looking quiver of arrows, and, most unexpectedly, a bedazzled pink flip phone. There was only one contact in the phone, so, with a sigh, Grian pressed the call button.

“Hello?”

“Scar, what is this?”

“Oh, so you found your CuteGuy readiness package!” Scar gasped excitedly. “What do you think? Do you like my big package?”

“Wording, Scar. And, no, I’m not going to be your sidekick! The CuteGuy thing was a joke, bro.” Grian held up the clothes and looked them over with distain, using his shoulder to prop the phone to his ear. “And pink really isn’t my color, much less hot pink.”

“What do you mean? You’re blonde, you’re basically like a Barbie, you’d totally rock pink!”

“I have an alter ego already, Scar, I don’t need another, much less one that wears… does this shirt have a heart-shaped cutout in the chest? Scar!”

“Oh please.” Scar scoffed. “Do you really think Poultry Man will make a comeback? Let’s all be honest with ourselves now.”

“Hey now, mister ‘HotGuy is like half of my personality’. PoultryMan was the blueprint of superheroes!” Grian put the clothes back in the shulker and closed it firmly. “Scar, this dress up game is going a little too far, don’t you think? There isn’t even a need for HotGuy.”

“You never know.” Scar said in a sing-song voice. “Listen, just keep the shulker and the phone- if I really need a sideki- backup, I’ll call this phone, okay? Please?”

“Fine.” Grian said. “It’s a good thing you’re my friend, or I’d burn all of this.” He hung up the phone and set it down on top of the shulker box. He sighed, shaking his head at the bedazzled and pink nightmare that sat on and in the box before him. He picked the box up and moved it to a shadowy part of his basement. Grumbot looked down at him, lights twinkling in a way Grian took as laughter.

“Listen, Scar never said a thing about me actually picking up the phone, so by technicality, I’m off the hook.” Grian felt a need to explain himself. “If he really wants a CuteGuy so bad, he can get someone else to do it or something. I don’t do sidekick. PoultryMan is main character energy.”

Grumbot just flashed his lights, and Grian wondered if the robot had even been listening at all. He sighed, turning around and gazing out towards the now-dull rift on the other side of the basement.

“Now, to something that really matters, what on earth do I do about this?”

-seven months later-

Much like young Issac Newton theorizing about gravity from an apple falling onto his head, Joe Hills also had an odd series of events happen to him when something big and heavy fell onto his head. But he thought “ouch!” instead of conceptualizing gravity, but that’s besides the point.

“Who is messing with me? Guys, now is not a great time… huh?” Joe looked all around, and his gaze came to rest on a red shulker box on its side, spilling stacks upon stacks of tnt onto the ground. Joe went to pick it up and saw it labeled as Grian’s. “Grian?” There was no answer.

So, Joe did what any good person would do, and gathered up all of the tnt, put it back in the box, and set off for Grian’s megabase, which he had only an approximation of its location. He did manage to find it eventually, or, at least, the amalgamation of Grian and Mumbo’s bases, and he dithered on the spot for a while, trying to remember who’s was which. He eventually just gave up and dove down into what he knew to be Grian’s basement, with that weird robot and rift thing. Luckily, both oddities seemed inactive, and Joe put the shulker box down in the middle of the room, and took out a scrap of paper to leave as a note.

Suddenly, a phone rang, echoing through the basement. Joe looked at the rift, then the robot. Neither seemed to a source of the ringing. It was coming, Joe found out as he looked around, from a bedazzled pink flip phone on top of a pink and horribly dusty shulker box. On instinct, Joe picked it up and answered.

“Howdy, Joe Hills from Nashville, Tennessee here, how can I be of service?”

“Cuteguy, it’s time! The time is nye! I- wait, Joe?”

Joe recognized the dramatic voice on the other end at once. “Scar?”

“Joe?”

“Howdy, Scar!”

“Wait, I thought I gave this phone to Grian.”

“Well, I suppose you did. I just happened to be by, dropping off a shulker box of tnt that he must have dropped by accident onto my head, and I heard the phone-“

“Hold on, I’ll be right there.”

Scar hung up, and Joe pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it in confusion. He considered leaving, he really did, but after a rather arduous debate in his head of how much time he could be spending on his pinball machine instead of waiting on Scar, he ultimately determined that time spent with friends was always time well spent. He had just come to that conclusion, in fact, when Scar crash landed right in front of Joe.

“Ahh! One heart, Joe, one heart.” Scar said, while Joe helped him right his wheelchair. “Now, where’s CuteGuy?”

“Who?” Joe asked. He took stock of Scar’s outfit, which was a tight black unitard looking thing with blue and orange details. “And what on earth are you wearing?”

“Well, I’m HotGuy, of course!” Scar straightened up, taking out a deadly looking bow and pointing it, clearly posing, which Joe took as the cue to make appropriate awed noises. “But every good superhero needs his sidekick, and I was hoping CuteGuy would have gotten my message.” Scar looked around, like this CuteGuy guy would be hiding in a corner or something.

“Scar, there is no one on the server named ‘CuteGuy’- I feel like Xisuma would have told us if he’d whitelisted someone new.” Joe said very seriously.

“What? No! Okay, Joe, listen,” Scar lowered his voice conspiratorially, and Joe leaned in, keeping an eye on Grumbot as he did- who knows who could be listening. “CuteGuy is Grian’s alter ego. Like how I’m HotGuy.”

Joe put a hand to his mouth in shock, to be polite. “You mean it was actually you who terrorized me all those months ago while I was building a sign for King Ren?”

Scar clicked his tongue in an awkward kind of way. “No time for that, Joe! The point is, I need a sidekick right now, and Grian is nowhere to be found. So, Joe, what do you say- wanna come be CuteGuy for a little while?”

Joe considered this. He had many questions, but Scar had a sense of urgency in his tone. And Joe did like to say yes to new experiences…

“Well, I suppose I could help you out Scar- I mean, HotGuy. But shouldn’t I be called something else, as CuteGuy is kind of more of a Grian thing? I wouldn’t want to invade his creative space.”

Scar rubbed his chin, thinking hard “Maybe… are there other adjectives that are like hot and cute?”

“Oh! I was named the sexiest Minecraft youtuber via a set of tumblr polls!” Joe exclaimed. “Sexy… guy?”

“Tumblr? What’s that, like a disease or something?” Scar asked.

“I- okay, so I could explain this simply, but even that might take a few hours within itself… if I say the words ‘Ball Pit’, does that invoke emotions within you?”

“Joe, we don’t have time!” Scar put a hand over Joe’s mouth. “Listen, I think G will be fine if you borrow the CuteGuy name and outfit. But we really do need to go- crime does not sleep!” Scar opened the pink shulker box and pulled out a couple of sets of clothes, holding them up to Joe and squinting. Finally, he shoved a bundle at him. “Go put this on, and I’ll meet you on Grian and Mumbo’s bridge. Hurry!”

Scar flew up, and Joe quickly changed into the violently pink clothes without much thought. It wasn’t until he flew up to meet Scar did it occur to him what exactly he had on.

“Scar, HotGuy, I don’t mean to complain, but is it really all that sensible to be fighting crime in a crop top and booty shorts? Where is the padding? And the armor?” Joe asked, pulling down on the crop top slightly.

“CuteGuy, in this life, you gotta slay in every way. We’re hotter and cuter then our enemies.” Scar lowered his sunglasses, gave Joe a once-over, and tossed him a huge, glittery pink compound bow. “Now, let’s fly. I’ll explain our mission on the way.” He took off, leaving Joe to put the bow in his inventory and hastily take off after him.

The pink phone began to ring as soon as Joe was coasting in the air, and he fumbled to pull it out of the bag strapped to his thigh.

“Howdy!”

“Alright CuteGuy, are you hearing me alright?” Scar’s voice was cool and collected, if a bit hard to hear over the wind.

“Loud and clear, Scar- I mean, HotGuy.” Joe could see Scar up ahead, and kept pace behind him.

“Fantastic.” Scar turned to give him a thumbs up and a cheesy smile. “Now, for this mission, CuteGuy, we’re heading for the lair of the biggest threat to the server, the goat himself, DocM77. Perhaps you’ve heard of him.”

“I… yeah, Scar, sorry, HotGuy, we’ve both known Doc since season five, of course I know him.”

“Good, good. Recently, I, HotGuy, teamed up with two esteemed revolutionaries to form the Buttercups, an elite team set to take down the goat once and for all. The camp has been set, but we need to send a message to the goat that we mean business. Doc may have fancy redstone, but we have determination, grit, and most importantly, obsidian. Oh, and we’re here!”

“Obsidian?” Joe asked, landing beside Scar on the floor of the perimeter, hanging up the phone. “I thought you were gonna say, like, a pipe bomb or something.”

“No, no, CuteGuy.” Scar pulled out a shulker box and set it on the ground. “We just want to be annoying to good ol’ DocM, not actually kill him. So, we’re gonna cover every surface down here in obsidian.”

Joe looked at Scar, then around at the yawning expanse of the perimeter. “I- yeah, okay. And we are the good guys here, right?”

“Of course.” Scar replied, smiling.

——

It took about five hours of painstakingly placing obsidian, but every surface within the perimeter was eventually covered, which was an interesting sight to behold. Scar and Joe stood at the mouth of Doc’s house, looking down into the expanse.

“I think we did good, CuteGuy.” Scar said, patting Joe on the back.

“This bow was surprisingly effective against slimes.” Joe replied, hoisting up the big pink bow.

“That’s the power of the veloci-tay.” Scar said with an understanding nod. “Now, let’s get out of here before Doc gets back.”

He’d hardly uttered the words when there was the distinct sound of someone coming through Doc’s nether portal. Scar and Joe turned around just in time to see Doc emerge from the portal, and freeze at the sight of them.

“HotGuy?” Doc breathed. “What are you doing here? You and your… actually, I don’t believe I’ve met your… friend?”

“Oh, this is my sidekick, CuteGuy.” Scar waved his hand at Joe.

“Name suits you, CuteGuy.” Doc winked at Joe. “Pleasure to meet you. Now, what was I- oh, what are you both doing in my base? Why does CuteGuy look guilty? What…” Doc’s mechanical eye suddenly flew from the socket, whirring into the air with small but powerful blades. It flew behind the two superheroes and looked down into the perimeter. The room went silent, and Joe watched Doc’s face fall, first into surprise, then anger.

“What the- what did you do? Obsidian?” Doc’s eye flew back into socket, and he actually growled at them. “You annoying-”

“CuteGuy, shoot him!” Scar screeched, hiding behind Joe.

“I- what- okay!” Joe pulled back the bow and aimed it at Doc. The arrow missed. Then another missed. Then Doc was standing right in front of him, glowering.

“It’s a good thing you’re cute, because you’re a terrible shot.” Doc growled.

“Run!” Scar screamed, shooting into Doc’s face over Joe’s shoulder, and they both took off to the sky. Doc typed a bunch of angry and cryptic messages into the in-game chat, but didn’t pursue.

Joe and Scar landed on the bridge between Grian and Mumbo’s bases, breathing heavily.

“We did it! Our first mission as a duo!” Scar held out his hand for a high-five. “What do you say, Joe, want to take on the CuteGuy persona full time? HotGuy needs a good sidekick like you.”

Joe gazed into Scar’s grinning face, seeing his own, glittering pink reflection in Scar’s sunglasses.

“Absolutely not.”

[finleycannotdraw]

Goldenheart question. Who do you think proposes? Ballister or Ambrosius?

Bonus on how they would do it? ✌️🌈

OKAY SO. I thought about this for like five minutes. decided something. and then I changed my mind like five times. and then I was like “hmm. fic time”

I know you just asked for my thoughts but I hope you enjoy this!!

Ballister had a plan.

He loved Ambrosius. Of course he did. He’d loved him when they were classmates at the Institute, loved him when they snuck onto the roof at night to talk, loved him when they became knights, and loved him when the wall came down. He’d loved him for as long as he could remember, so of course he loved him when he looked up from his crossword puzzle and saw Ambrosius dancing in the kitchen, wearing a pair of Ballister’s pajama pants, holding a pancake batter-covered spatula and looking more carefree than he’d looked in months.

He’d marry Ambrosius in a heartbeat. He’d get on a train right then and elope with him if he asked, but he thought his partner deserved something bigger, something romantic, something grand and joyful after all of the stress and responsibility he’d been shouldering since the Director’s demise.

Hence, The Plan.

Nimona had been… mostly helpful. Ballister approached her one afternoon, after Ambrosius had left for work, and sat down across from her. Since the three of them had moved into an apartment together, Nimona had gotten much more comfortable relaxing, which warmed Ballister’s heart.

“What’s up, boss?”

“I want to ask Ambrosius—” he began, and Nimona sat up straight, immediately invested.

“To marry you?” she exclaimed. “Yes. Do it. Why haven’t you done it already.”

Ballister blinked. “I thought you’d be more hesitant about this,” he said slowly. “You used to hate him.”

Nimona waved her hand dismissively. “Ehhh. The past is the past, and all that jazz. Speaking of jazz—”

“No.”

“Ugh, whatever. You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“I didn’t need to.”

“You’re horrible. Anyway, I hated him when all I knew about him was that he cut off your arm. That was before I’d lived with you guys for a year. And it would be pretty hypocritical of me not to be open to changing my opinions about somebody. He makes you happy. You should totally marry him.”

Ballister smiled. “Thank you, Nimona.”

She scoffed affectionately. “Sure, boss.”

And a plan—namely, The Plan, which was the whole point—formed.

Nimona and Ballister flew all over the city looking for parks and possible activities, such as restaurants or shows. Most people had gotten fairly used to the pair of them flying around, Nimona sprouting wings and carrying Ballister above the streets, so they didn’t worry about staying out of sight.

If Ambrosius noticed or thought it was suspicious that Nimona and Ballister constantly went out together and didn’t talk to him about any of it, he didn’t comment. The three of them still had their movie nights and game nights, and Nimona and Ambrosius still had their terrifyingly intense card games (War, Go Fish, Crazy Eights, and several games Ballister had never heard of) that Ballister was forbidden from joining, so altogether not much had changed.

One thing that did change, though, was how often he paused, watched Ambrosius do something completely ordinary, and thought ‘I want to marry this man.’ It happened more and more with each passing day, until Ballister very nearly proposed to him when he walked into the apartment and found Ambrosius standing with his feet on two separate chairs, about three feet apart, holding a collection of colorful paper streamers above his head while Nimona, in the form of a small monkey, perched on the top of his head and put them in place on the wall.

Ballister stared at them for a long moment before he said, very confusedly: “There wasn’t a more efficient way to do this?”

Ambrosius and Nimona turned at the same time, both looking quite delighted despite their precarious position atop the chairs.

“We’re just mixing it up!” they both replied. Ballister looked around. The living room was covered in party decorations and newspaper, and Ballister thought he’d never seen more glitter in his life. He pictured Ambrosius buying a basket full of glitter for whatever party Nimona was planning on throwing, and wouldn’t have been surprised if his heart actually melted.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked.

“I asked Nimona when her birthday was,” Ambrosius explained. “She said she didn’t have one.”

“And if I do, I don’t remember when it is,” Nimona added. Ambrosius threw his hands out to the sides in an emphasizing gesture.

“Which means she’s never had a birthday party,” he continued. “So we decided that today’s her birthday and we’re having a party.”

“Which is just going to be like a normal night except with decorations,” Nimona said. “The glitter was Goldilocks’ idea.”

Ballister raised his eyebrows, and Ambrosius shrugged unabashedly, then turned back to finish putting up the streamers.

Marry me, Ballister thought.

Within the next week, he had everything figured out. He’d looked at the weather for the next few days, planned where they’d go and when, and had even bought a ring, which he’d hidden in his extra pair of running shoes and shoved under the bed. If Ambrosius noticed that Ballister seemed extra nervous or more likely to become agitated if he spent too long in the bedroom by himself, he didn’t comment.

So yes. Ballister had a plan, and it was much more concrete than ‘something something something, we win’. He didn’t have a script, but he had just about everything else. Nothing could possibly get in his way now.

Or so he thought.

One night—there was nothing particularly special about it; they’d had dinner with Nimona, danced and laughed while cleaning the kitchen, and kissed while getting ready for bed—Ballister and Ambrosius were snuggled up together under their blankets. Ballister’s prosthetic arm was hanging from its charger on the wall, so he couldn’t hold Ambrosius as close as he would’ve liked, but the blond knight was lying with his head on Ballister’s shoulder, which gave him room to wrap his left arm around his partner’s back.

Ambrosius moved to tangle his legs with Ballister’s and gave his middle a squeeze, causing Ballister to smile up at the dark ceiling. If he paid attention, he could hear quiet music through the walls from Nimona’s room, and the moon was shining brightly through the window. Ballister carded his fingers through Ambrosius’ hair and breathed deeply.

Ambrosius, after several minutes, pushed himself up onto his elbow so that he could see Ballister’s face. Ballister’s arm slid naturally to rest around his waist, and he wished he had his prosthetic so that he could tap Ambrosius on the nose. Whenever he did so, Ambrosius’ face would scrunch up in the most adorable way possible, and Ballister had no choice but to kiss him.

“Hey,” Ambrosius whispered, as though Ballister hadn’t already been giving him his full attention.

“Hi,” he said in the same quiet tone, and matched Ambrosius’ answering smile. They bumped their noses together and giggled, and Ambrosius flopped to the side, landing on his own pillow. Ballister freed his arm and laced their fingers together, and Ambrosius brought their joined hands to his lips, then rested them on his chest and stroked Ballister’s hand with his thumb.

“Bal?” he said, tilting his head to the side to look into Ballister’s eyes, which he was quite honestly struggling to keep open.

“Hm?”

“Will you marry me?” Ambrosius asked softly, simply, his gaze full of love, exactly the way Ballister had been fighting the urge to ask him for weeks.

“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed, and got out of bed to grab the ring box from his shoe, forgetting that Ambrosius had no idea what he was doing until he sat up, looking worried.

“Bal?” he said again, this time much more guarded. “I’m sorry, what—”

“I was going to propose to you!” Ballister interrupted, opened the box, and shoved it towards his gobsmacked partner, who stared at it in utter shock before looking back to Ballister’s eyes. “I had a plan! And it wasn’t ‘something something something, we win’!”

Ambrosius’ eyes were shiny. “Was it more like, ‘something something something, marry me?’”

Ballister laughed surprisedly and leaned over to plant a kiss on Ambrosius’ lips. “Yes,” he said. “Well, no. I didn’t have a speech.”

“Hence the something-something-something,” Ambrosius teased. “You know, you never answered my—”

“Yes, good Gloreth, yes, I’ll marry you,” Ballister interrupted again. “Though I think you could’ve inferred that from learning that I was going to ask you the same question.”

Ambrosius laughed tearfully, and Ballister kissed him again.

“I’m not taking your last name, though,” he added moments later. “As funny as it is.”

“Nimona would kill you,” Ambrosius agreed. “So would I, probably. I don’t want to keep my last name either. It made for some good jokes, but other than that—”

“Well, Boldheart is nice, but it wasn’t my birth name. You know the Queen gave it to me at the ceremony because somebody—probably the Director—said that Blackheart sounded too dark for a knight?”

“Right,” Ambrosius mused. “What should we do, then?”

“We could combine our last names,” Ballister suggested. “We could be Ambrosius and Ballister—”

“Goldenheart,” Ambrosius finished, and wrapped his arms around Ballister, shaking with laughter, tears, and joy. “I love it.”

“I love you,” Ballister told him, and there was very little talking for the rest of the night.

When morning came, they headed into the kitchen in their pajamas and found Nimona already up, sitting at the table with her headphones on. She appeared to be drawing—likely another action scene with herself as a large animal with Ballister and/or Ambrosius as her murderous accomplice—and didn’t look up as they entered.

“Morning, Nim,” Ambrosius said as he made his way to the coffee machine.

“Goldilocks.” She acknowledged him with a nod, then raised her eyebrows. “Sleep well?”

Ballister held his crossword puzzle up and hid his face behind it while Ambrosius nearly dropped the coffee pot. They both knew that Nimona was over a thousand years old and there was probably very little she hadn’t seen, and even less she wasn’t aware of, but she was so good at acting like a teenager that it was quite easy to forget. She watched their awkward reactions and snickered, but her eyes widened as her attention zeroed in on something on or beside Ambrosius’ hand.

“So, who snapped first?” she asked pleasantly, a wide grin forming on her face.

“Me,” Ambrosius admitted without turning around. “Wait. Who snapped first? You knew he was planning—”

“You knew he was—” Ballister began too, and they both stopped and stared at each other.

Nimona just burst out laughing.

[rishiimaa]

HI HI! I was the person who requested the “jjk with a child who’s tooth was growing or lost a tooth” which was 😮‍💨🤌. Then I had another thought where jjk characters child/children first start crawling/walking 🤔(I’m having a baby fever rn) please lmk if these requests are bothering you 😭😭

Nope! Requests’ll never bother me, and if they do, it’s not your fault, I’d just turn the requests off, so please, do more requests! I love it when people give me attention anyways!

Anywho… onto the fanfic!

Fluff

Yuji, Megumi, Gojo, Geto

Yuji

——————————————————————

Yuji would be the reason your son walk, he’d be watching football and cheering on, and he’d feel a bump on his leg, only to find out his son was standing!

——————————————————————————————

“Wh— God damn it! How do you fucking fumble that?!” Yuji yelled at the top of his lungs, earning a glare at you from the kitchen.

“Watch your mouth in front of C/N and stop yelling, I don’t want his first words to be that.” you narrowed your eyes at Yuji, easily making him shrink in size as he scratches his neck.

“Sorry, babe, it’s just I can’t understand why my team is fumbling so many balls! Especially the easier ones…I could totally catch that…”

You roll your eyes before getting back to your cooking, and you let out a breathy laugh, it was absolutely impossible to stay mad at Yuji, he’s just too sweet for his own good…so sweet that you even feel bad for scolding him.

Yuji laid back onto the couch in a pout, this game was totally scripted…all these years of rooting this stupid team just to lose again…so annoying.

While Yuji was having his temper tantrum, C/N, required his father’s attention, he tried reaching for him, throwing toys, making random babble noises, and even throwing toys at him! (Which never really makes it that far…But it’s worth a try!)

But nothing gained Yuji’s attention, his focus was on the game and only the game, which made C/N mad.

Suddenly…C/N made an attempt to stand by himself, by placing his feet on the floor and allowing to push himself up, just like his daddy does!

C/N began to finally wobble towards Yuji, slowly, but surely, C/N made it to Yuji’s leg, and began to punch it softly, this caught his attention, so when he looks down to his knees, he saw a very close standing wide-eyed C/N.

The silence grew…and both stared at eachother for a while, before Yuji finally realized what was going on.

“HOLY SHIT—!”

“Yuji!”

Megumi

——————————————————————

When C/N finally learns how to crawl, it took everything in Megumi not to cry, because if he did, he’d never hear the end of it from you…of course he ends up crying anyway…

——————————————————————————————

It was a normal day with the family, since it was the weekend, everyone was off work…So the Fushiguro family was stuck at home, Megumi was reading a book, you were watching TV (and a bit of baby clothes shopping), and little C/N was just laying on her belly on a blanket on the floor full of toys.

You continued to show Megumi the baby clothes you “scrolled” upon, but Megumi could never be irritated, he loved to hear you talk.

“Megumi! Look! This one has cute little sheep on it! You can also match with her—“

“Pass.”

Megumi groans, avoiding eye contact, you seethed at him with the sudden interruption.

“Pardon me? What gives you the right to say no to me? I pushed out C/N for two hours straight, and you can even match with her?”

Megumi groaned once again before pulling you on top his lap and giving you a light peck on your cheek.

“I meant with the sheep one, do the wolf one, that one’s cooler.” Megumi points at the screen, you let out a snort.

“What—“

“You’re so cute Megs, who knew i’d be married and have a baby with the cutest man in the world.”

“Could you not call me cute? That’s embarrassing…”

While you and Megumi were gushing, the ball that C/N was playing with rolled away, she tried to reach for it instead.

She made a sound, to alert her parents, but to no avail, no one responded. She pouted before lifting herself off the ground and deciding to crawl by herself to get the ball.

“Megumi, where’s C/N?”

Megumi looked over at the empty pile of blankets, both of you quickly went to your feet, but as you both stood up, you see a little C/N reaching for a small red ball.

You squealed with joy and you ran to your daughter and picked her up, simply out of pure excitement, you didn’t even let her finish crawling, but Megumi simply just stood there in silence.

then suddenly…you hear sniffs over your squealing, you look over at Megumi, covering his face, as the room fell silent.

“Megumi…Megumi are you crying over—“

“Shut up…”

Megumi said, wiping his tears but of course, knowing you, you didn’t shut up.

“Aww!! Look C/N, see how much your papa loves you? All those times he’s been mean doesn’t mean anything after all!” You tightly hug C/N, before she asks to be put down.

You put her down, when you do, C/B begins to crawl to her Papa, making happy baby noises as she reaches for Megumi for carrying. This definitely snaps Megumi as he lifts her up, hugging C/N once again with small sniffles sounding off…except this time it’s a bit louder…

You snap a picture, once again.

“I am definitely hanging this up.”

Gojo

——————————————————————

It takes Gojo so many attempts to get C/N to walk, and when she does…Hysterical, absolutely an abomination of tears and a camera roll full of pictures that he puts in his wallet.

——————————————————————

“Come on sweet pea…! I know you can do it! Walk to daddy, I got you!” Gojo said in a whiney tone, reaching out for his daughter, only for her to crawl to him and give him a sweet hug.

“It’s adorable that you did this, but I’d rather you’d walk…”

Gojo said sadly as C/N blew bubbles. He sighs of defeat before grabbing the remote and deciding to put it on spongebob, during that time it was C/N’s favorite show.

“Satoru, you know C/N’s not gonna walk when you ask her to, it’s gonna have to come natural.” You sigh, sitting on the couch after getting out the shower.

“I told you to let me get in the shower first! You take all the hot water!”

“Hm…well guess what, I’m a full grown woman! Should’ve been mature and went in yourself!”

Gojo pouts, before continuing to fidget with the spongebob plushy that C/N loves so much.

It makes sense that C/N would love spongebob, who wouldn’t, first of all, and second, her dad is Satoru Gojo, maybe it’s just genetic…

“Ugh…I can’t understand why you like this episode C/N, this one sucked.”

Gojo said, as if C/N could understand.

She acts like she does, because she looks at her dad and tilted her head, Gojo simply just looked at her with a pouty expression.

C/N furrowed her eyebrows, she took the insinuation that her dad was sad! And she couldn’t have that.

And so when Gojo wasn’t looking, she took the chance to walkover to him to comfort, with a little bit of struggling, she finally began to walk to her dad, you noticed this and pointed it out right away.

“Toru, Toru! Look! C/N in walking!” you pointed at C/N, but you always pull pranks on Gojo like this, so he simply tirelessly looked at her, not believing you at first

“Ohh yeah…and I’m the weakest man on—“ Gojo stops mid-sentence when he sees C/N slowly waddling towards him, in an instant, Gojo opens his arms so C/N could fall in them, she then places her chubby hand on Gojo’s cheek, and made a blabble that sounded like ‘there, there.’

You counted down from thee till the waterworks come…

Three

Two

one..

Sniff

hell yeah! right on queue!

i “You’re so adorable, C/N, I love you so much, never grow up and stay this age forever…” Gojo tightly holds C/N before he whips out his phone and takes a picture of his now standing daughter and a tearful Gojo.

Y/N thinks that those tears will never stop.

Geto

——————————————————————

Geto was obviously the calmest out of everyone in this list, but this time, you were the reason the twins walked, they were going through that phase when they only wanted their mother.

——————————————————————————————

Geto was currently giving both the twins a bath, he was struggling, as G/C/N was squirming around and is avoiding getting scrubbed, but of course B/C/N was being compliant.

“G/C/N…please…at least let me clean your butt, you literally just took a shit.” Geto sighed of defeat, you walked to the bathroom with a basket full of laundry.

“Any luck, Sugu?” You said, half-joking, Geto just shook his head and sighed

“G/C/N is refusing to take a wash…the most she’s done was get in the water” Geto almost lets out a whine. Before you let out a chuckle.

“It’s okay, Sugu, G/C/N is just stubborn like that, I’ll put your clothes in the washer, ‘kay?”

Geto gave a sound of approval, before trying again with G/C/N, she dodges the wash cloth once again while B/C/N was playing with a toy boat.

B/CN accidentally threw the toy out of the bath (don’t ask how), causing him to whine, Geto sighs, getting up to go and get the boat.

G/C/N took this opportunity to make a run for it after seeing her mom walk by, she crawled out of the tub, and stood on her feet, her naked body standing proudly, B/C/N said a “woah” noise, following his sister, just a bit more clumsily.

As if it wasn’t their first time walking, they both dashed out of the bathroom, following their mother.

“What the hell—? Y/N! Catch the twins! They’re making a run for it!”

Geto said in a panic, it would be easy to catch up to them, but they were small, so it was hard to grab them.

“Making a run for it—on my goddd!!” You said in a panic, running over at the door of the laundry the laundry room as both naked twins jumped on their mother laughing out loud, Geto sighed a breath of relief when he finally makes it to the twins, he couldn’t chose between being happy that they finally walked, or he should be pissed that not only did they wet the carpets, but they ran around the house naked.

“Well…who knew this’ll be their first walk…”

Geto ran his hand through his soft locks, sighing as he bent down to their level.

“Sugu, it seems they won’t take one unless I’m there, how about we all just take a bath together?”

[ryoko-loves-roses]

456 + 001 | SQUID GAME TK HCS

Seong Gi-Hun — LEE This man is an absolute sweetheart. Despite being strong-willed, I headcanon him as an extremely adorable lee. When him and sangwoo were little, they used to get into enormous tickle fights, which since Gi-Hun was the older one out of the two, he’d come out on top, although sometimes he lets sangwoo win because secretly he doesn’t mind it all that much - When Gi-Hun first joined the games, and since he’s been given all this trauma that he can’t treat till he finds out the “truth”, being ticklish for him just blew out the window. To be honest, he totally forgot he was ticklish at all from the trauma he has faced in recent years, but that all changed when the 2024 Squid Game took place. Being back in the one place that traumatized you most did many things to him, but when “Player 001” accidentally found out he was ticklish, he never heard the end of it. It was a foreign but somewhat familiar childish sensation, which of course he didn’t mind. Now for spots - I’d say his ribs are the most ticklish. Following in second and third place would be his armpits and sides. Even a brush of fingers against his sides would get him yelping. Even with age, it seemed like his sensitivity with touch stayed the same. LER Like I’ve stated before, this man is an absolute sweetheart. He will always make sure his lee is comfortable, and will never cross anyone’s boundaries when tickling them. Usually, he tickles someone to cheer them up, but when his daughter was little, he used to tickle her all the time to make her laugh just because he loved to see her smile, and that was probably the most joyous moment he’s treasured with his daughter before losing custody in the divorce. During the games though, he never wanted anyone to feel like they were alone. He truly felt as if he was the hero, and even if he couldn’t change the course of the future, he would try to do anything he could. As he met “Player 001”, or Young-il, which was the name he gave Gi-Hun. He found out that he was in the games for his ill, pregnant wife. There would be many nights where Young-il would sell the role perfectly by crying, wondering, and hoping that the outcome would be in his favor. As Gi-Hun’s heart ached for his new friend, he only did the one thing he knew how to. It’s like Gi-Hun’s ler side just awoke from a 5 year slumber as he poked Young-il’s side, and even he couldn’t hold back his genuine reaction since he’s human. And, this is when Gi-Hun started his first tickle fight in years. God, it felt so good to finally release that energy, and practically act like children. Sure, Young-il could’ve kicked him in the face easily, but it was a price he was willing to pay…

(Player 001/Frontman) Hwang In-Ho —   LEE Now.. this guy may be stoic, and he may have all his emotions in control, but he’s still a human, and being ticklish is a part of human nature. In-Ho forgot he was ticklish for quite some time just like Gi-Hun did, but I think it was way before he won the games in 2015. Being a police officer in the past, he was trained to never give in. No weakness, no kindness, no remorse. Despite believing in this fact, he could never get rid of his humanity. When he met Gi-Hun in the 2024 Squid Game, he could’ve never predicted how ‘touchy’ the man would be. Like I stated in Gi-Hun’s portion of this post, the player decided to test out if In-Ho was ticklish. Now… this could’ve ended badly, but fortunately for Gi-Hun, the stoic man was laughing too much to actually punch him in the jaw. For spots, I think most of us squid game tk fans saw the video of lee jung-jae (gi-hun’s actor), and lee byung-hun (in-ho’s actor), where lee jung-jae began to lightly tickle his neck/chin area, right? Well - it would be a crime if I didn’t mention it here. I headcanon that In-Ho’s tickle spots are mostly around his shoulder and neck area. If you scribble right underneath his chin, he scrunches up like a turtle, and cute-sounding giggles will immediately pour out of him <3. He may be deadly, but he’s absolutely adorable. Although Gi-Hun found this out, he immediately got wrecked afterwards - LER That brings us to the ler section! You see, when Jun-Ho (In-Ho’s little brother) was little, In-Ho used to wreck the shit out of him. Usually, it was because the little nuisance annoyed him to death. Being 16 years apart, In-Ho truly had the upper-hand. And trust me when I say that In-Ho shows no mercy when tickling his lees, and of course - this includes Gi-Hun. Though In-Ho is supposed to be acting as Player 001, when a tickle fight initially starts, he can’t help but feel genuine satisfaction when Gi-Hun is literally laughing his ass off and going crazy. When In-Ho found out that kneading his knuckles into Gi-Hun’s ribs made him cackle like a banshee, he couldn’t stop smirking and teasing him afterwards. This man is relentless, especially with his verbal teases. I like to think he’d use teases such as “hm… it seems like i found another spot that makes you squeal like a girl… aren’t you embarrassed?” and as his lee would try to cover up their laughter, he’d get a spot so brutal that would make it impossible to stay silent.

NOTE: if you guys want more characters.. lmk! i just tried out writing hehehe.

[juiceedapplee]

Con-Artists and You: It’s hard being so rich.

Sampo x rich!male reader

“I'd like to order any type of Sampo for with a male reader.”

Your order is ready 🛐 anon!

— Sampo is a man of many talents, scamming people, running away, earning money, scamming people, did I mention running away? Having a boyfriend has its perks, especially if they’re rich.

—It’s a good thing you have cameras and trackers so you can prepare for something like this. It’s how you knew he was coming to penacony and put his name under your reservation as well.

Your boyfriend doesn’t mean to come to your hotel room in the middle of the night during his one night stay in penacony. And it’s not like he purposely brought up your name to the hotel staff in order to get the key card to your room and access to the vvip facilities. It’s not like you mind though, you love him, though some might say a little too much. You constantly bail him out of monetary trouble and provide him a place to stay when he doesn’t have his own sometimes. And honestly, it’s better he stay with you then some rando, he could get hurt! :(

Opening the door you’re faced with Sampo, and he looks tired, like he’s been running. “You wouldn’t mind if I came in would ya?” He walks in the room and takes a seat on the couch, “When did you get here love? I didn’t know you were coming to penacony.” You ask, making your way towards the couch. And technically you didn’t, it was just an…educated guess. “I thought I’d visit you is all, wouldn’t wanna leave my beloved boyfriend all alone right?” Of course you know he came here for work related purposes but that’s not important right now. You let out a little chuckle and say “I guess not, but are you alright?” While you could track him it’s not like you had cameras on him, that wouldn’t give him any privacy which isn’t what you want at all. “I ran into a bit of trouble with a few folks but nothing your dear old Sampo couldn’t handle.” And noticing the worried expression coming onto your face he decides to put his head in your lap, not wanting to answer any questions right now. Did I mention he knows he’s your weakness? No? Well now I did.

—You and Sampo spent the next few days checking out the dreamscape and spending copious amounts of money. Mostly buying Sampo gifts and food. Sitting in the hotel room Sampo said he wanted to go out to say hello to a friend. After asking more than a few questions you had let him go, telling him to be quick. Though it’s a bit weird that his gps said he was leaving penacony, don’t you think?

—You almost forgot, the reason you came to penacony was to make more money. Like your mother always said, you can never have too much money.

“We should go gambling! It’ll be fun don’t you think?” You asked, you had been in the dreamscape for a while and noticed the casino. Unfortunately Sampo declined your offer, saying he saw a few friends of his. (Thank god this wasn’t your Sampo, or else you would’ve lost it.) Looking around there were many fun characters and games to bet your money, however one in particular caught your eye.

As you got closer to the table you were able to hear the whispers of the people watching. “How does he keep winning?” “He must be cheating!” “What incredible luck.” Pushing past people to get to the front you noticed a man with yellow hair and a peacock-esque color palette, and as you watched, you witnessed him win again and again. Only deciding after the third win, that you had to join in.

Here’s your receipt!

A medium cash grab: $10.00

A bomb shaped ice cube: ¢.25

Marshmallow topping: ¢.25

Service fee: ¢.25

Discount: $5.00

Total: $5.75

Card accepted! Enjoy!

I got distracted so this took waaaay longer than it should’ve. I’m sorry! I hope you like the little cameo, and yes this does take place a little bit before the penacony story line and sparkle and Sampo do switch places while he’s “saying hello to a friend”. A tracker really does come in handy. And Sampo is aware of your not so normal slightly yan tendencies.

[readyplayerhobi]

Because, I Love You | 12

; Genre: Fluff, angst

; Word Count: 5.1k

; Warnings: Fatphobia, ageism, mentions of miscarriage

; Synopsis: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should   be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time   on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks   then.

; A/N: Soo...you’ve been waiting for this one for like...a week now. And it’s here...the reason why Jungkook disowns his own mum! If you enjoyed this, please reblog so it can get on other people’s screens and I’d love to hear your thoughts in a comment or an ask - either one is great for me and let’s me know you like this fic still! Your feedback keeps encouraging me to write after all this time.

; Masterlist

-

"You're totally gonna cry." Jimin teases, though he sounds happy and not malicious. His words are lightened even more by the broad grin he's wearing as he smoothes out Jungkook's lapel once more.

"Fuck yeah, I am. I cry at anything, seeing the love of my life in her wedding dress walking down the aisle towards me? If I'm not blubbing like a two-year-old who's had candy taken from them then punch me till I am." Jungkook is rambling, and he can tell. But he's so damn nervous and excited. Nervited. Excous. Whole new words.

Junghyun, his older brother, laughs loudly and pats Jungkook on the shoulder. Well, it feels more like he's punching him but Jungkook will just consider it a pat as it's done in good faith. Jimin was his best man, but Junghyun had agreed to be a groomsman.

The two of you had decided on a smaller wedding, to save money and make it more intimate. So you only had two bridesmaids and two groomsmen. Momo, your best friend who'd moved back in the last year, was your maid of honour while Hana, another close friend, was a bridesmaid. Thankfully, your friends had been understanding as to why they weren't all invited to be in the bridal party - because Jungkook wanted his brother and best friend, so logically you needed two to match - and were now sitting comfortably in the chairs that had been placed out for the day.

You'd also decided that you didn't want your bridesmaids to walk down the aisle, do they were already waiting for you. The whole day was planned to be simple, fun and intimate. You'd both chosen a beautiful hotel as your venue and were marrying in the gardens, with the dinner and reception later to be half in the other part of the gardens and the hall that had been rented.

Chewing on his lip ring, he looks towards the door that'll you'll be coming through for perhaps the millionth time and he jumps on the spot for a moment. He's got too many feelings, too much energy. He just wants you to turn up so he can marry you.

"Calm down, you're gonna be napping like a toddler if you keep moving around." Jimin chuckles, pressing down on Jungkook's shoulders to get the younger man to stop moving. It works to stop him from hopping, but his fingers are tapping on his thigh instead now.

"He doesn't need to move to nap, you know that." Junghyun snorts in amusement, but it's cut short by the sudden start of the music.

For a second, it doesn't register in Jungkook's head but then he realises - it's your music, the music for you to walk down the aisle.

"She's coming!" He squeaks, and if he didn't have a million thoughts in his head then he'd be embarrassed at how pitched his voice had gone. But he couldn't care now, not when you were coming! 

The music soars, and he recognises it as from your favourite video game. You hadn't let him hear it beforehand, had just let him know that he'll recognise it and…he did. It makes him laugh it registers.

You really picked An End Once And For All from the Mass Effect 3 soundtrack. It was your favourite game, and he knew that some would be a little confused at the unusual choice but he loved it. You'd opted for it to be played solely on piano, and he eyes the piano player for a second.

Great, now he was going to forever cry when he heard this song.

The door opens and it's like time stands still for a moment. You're standing there on your own for a moment, having decided that you were a modern woman and didn't want anyone to walk you down the aisle. The bouquet in your hands is held tightly, a deep purple ribbon that matches the colour scheme of the wedding trailing down.

Slowly, you start to walk towards him, passing row after row of your friends and family. Your dress is beautiful - folds of soft ivory silk with delicate lace patterns overlaying it, the lace trailing up over your bodice and shoulders before twirling down your arms. Each movement has the dress kicking out slightly, and he notes the tiny glimmers of crystals that have been carefully woven into the material. 

If an angel got married, Jungkook is pretty sure she'd look like you.

Finally, you're standing next to him as you hand off your bouquet to Momo and smile brightly at him. He tries to smile back, but he's been crying so damn hard that all he manages is for his lips to quiver pathetically. Sniffling, he wipes at his eyes frantically.

"Sorry," He mumbles, "You're so beautiful, I love you."

That sets him off again, and you laugh softly before reaching up to wipe away his tears. You're looking at him so fondly, he can't even bring himself to care that he's currently bawling his eyes out. At least Jimin doesn't need to hit him.

"I love you, too." Gently, you clean his face while quiet snickers rumble through the guests at his crying. Nothing malicious, just amused and cooing over how soft he is for you.

"Are you both ready?" The officiant asks, raising a brow at you both as he tries to hide his smile. Jungkook guesses he must see this all the time, and surely it's a good sign for a wedding if the guy cries, right?

Both of you nod at him, and Jungkook takes your hand and squeezes. He's actually getting married, he's going to have a wife in a few minutes. You're going to be his wife.

"Good afternoon, everyone. I hope everyone's excited for today, which sees us witnessing the union of Mr Jeon and Miss Y/L/N for love." Jungkook zones out as the officiant gets through the legal talk and starts to say something about the love between the two in front of him. Ironic, given Jungkook only met the guy yesterday.

But he's too busy staring at you in simultaneous amazement and love. You're here, you're marrying him. You'll be Mrs Jeon, his wife. You're so damn beautiful.

"If there is any person here present who knows of any lawful impediment to this marriage, then they should declare it now."

He's busy smiling at you, so busy that he doesn't even register the words spoken out loud. Not until he notices the way the space has become quiet, the silence deafening suddenly.

Frowning, he looks at the officiant who looks both shocked and confused. Then he looks at you, who mirrors the emotions, though there's also some horror in there too.

Finally, his brain catches up and he twists to stare at his mom. His mom, who had never liked you and who had pitched a fit when he'd announced his wedding. His mom, who had sworn she wouldn't come, only to turn up here anyway.

"What?" Jungkook asks, the confusion in his voice making him sound more like a child. This is what he feels because he can't understand why his mom is objecting. 

"I said, I object. I don't approve of my son marrying some old, fat woman. I've never approved of her, and I've tried repeatedly to bring him back but she's got her claws so deep into him. I don't want my son to marry a woman six years older than him, who's probably too old and fat to have children now. Not when my Jungkook deserves so much better. You should be marrying a doctor or a lawyer, not her. So I object, I don't want her in my family and I will never accept her as a daughter-in-law." His mom finishes her tirade, her cheeks red with anger and her face twisted with bitterness. He doesn't recognise her.

Jungkook was frozen in place, his eyes wide and jaw dropped as his mind blanked out. What had just happened? He didn't understand, he couldn't understand - this kind of stuff didn't happen in real life, right?

Yet here he stood, holding your hand tighter than he meant to as he stared in disbelief at his mom. The woman who'd raised him with so much love and affection, who was now unrecognisable to him. He wasn't the only one, his dad was also staring at her in horror whilst his grandparents looked shocked. And that was nothing compared to everyone else.

Jungkook was pretty sure that your parents were going to punch his mom, and frankly, he would let them. But that wasn't the important bit right now.

Turning to you, the love of his life wearing the most beautiful ivory dress and ready to legally tie yourself to him, he felt his heart break. Tears were banked in your eyes, and he saw the slightest quiver to your lips, the movement replicated by your fingers clasped in his own.

No, no. 

"Is there somewhere we can go for a few minutes? This won't affect anything, right? I just…I need to sort this out and I don't want Y/N to hear." He whispered to the officiant, who looked like he'd never seen this happen at a wedding before. Just what Jungkook wanted, for his wedding to be a fucking Reddit worthy story.

Still, the officiant nodded and reached out for you, carefully taking your hands from Jungkook. There's a brief moment where you fight, but Jungkook begs you quietly to go, that he'll be there as soon as he can and that he loves you, and most importantly…that he's so sorry.

Once you've disappeared through a door back into the hotel, he rounds with fury in his eyes. And god, he wishes he didn't cry when he was angry.

"What. The. Fuck." He spits, storming to the front row of his seats where his mom looks victorious and his dad looks sorrowful. It's only when she takes in the anger that practically vibrates in his body that she pauses. She loops her arm through his dad's for support, but his dad lets go and steps away with contempt in his eyes.

"I don't know why you're so surprised. You've known I don't approve of her for years now, and I've always let you know. You deserve so much better, someone who will give you beautiful babies and be on your level." There's a shout from your side that gets muffled quickly, and Jungkook notes that your mom is currently being dragged to the door you'd exited by your family. He wants to apologise, but he has to sort this out.

"Shut up, just SHUT UP. Why are you so fucking bitter? Y/N is perfect for me, I love her so much and you have no right to have any opinion here. None. It's my life, not yours. Fuck, I didn't even want you here. You're only here because Y/N wanted to give you another chance and you…you fucking…" He cracks then, swallowing hard as he finally starts to cry from embarrassment and hurt for you. 

Turning away for a moment, he presses his hand to his mouth hard as tears fall and he looks up at the beautiful sky. She'd made you cry, at your wedding ceremony. She'd insulted you on things that he knew you'd worked hard to overcome, yet deep inside you were still insecure about. In front of all your friends and family, along with his.

Letting out a shaky breath, he turns back around and lets his mom see his absolute devastation. She had no idea what you'd had to work through to learn to love yourself, or the way you'd made yourself vulnerable to him when letting him love you. She had no idea about the pain of the struggles you'd had to get pregnant or the fact that you'd now had two miscarriages. There was so much she didn't know because he'd known that she'd use it to hurt you. Yet she'd managed to use it anyway.

"Get out. I want you out." He says, his voice shaking and quiet but the words are like gunshots. His mom's eyes widen in shock, and he realises that she's genuinely surprised he's taken a stand. In her fantasy world, she'd speak her peace and he'd realise he was wrong and come back to the fold.

It makes him angry and he grits his teeth.

"Get. Out. Leave, go. I don't want you here, I don't fucking want you anywhere. This is it, I'm done. You want me to pick? Fine, I pick her. Get out of my wedding." He spits, pointing to the door that'll take her out of the wedding, and in a just world out of his life.

"Jungkook, you can't mean tha-"

"GET OUT. Dad, please. I can't…please." He begs his dad, knowing that his dad has always been kind to you and has tried to be the barrier between his mom and her horrible views. There's a second of hesitation before his dad nods, grasping his wife's arms firmly. She's started to rant at them both, jerking to get herself free.

Before he manages to push her into the aisle, his dad stops and gives him a tight smile.

"I'm so sorry, I really am. Please let Y/N know I'm so sorry about this, I think she'll be a great daughter-in-law to me." His compassionate words make Jungkook smile weakly as he nods, before moving to stand in front of everyone.

There's still shock and uncertainty on everyone's faces and he feels so embarrassed, so humiliated that they've all witnessed this. He can't even imagine how you feel.

"I'm sorry you've all had to see that. I, erm, I'm gonna go see Y/N…I don't know if the wedding will carry on. I don't know…it's up to Y/N. I'm sorry." He doesn't know what to say, and he hates how lost he feels.

"Tell her we're sorry too, and that we'd still love to see you both get married if she wants." Jimin says, his best man resting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing reassuringly. There are murmurs of agreement from the crowd, and Jungkook wants to cry from the reassurance everyone gives.

Instead, he nods his head and hurries after you. He'd have been confused as to where you'd been taken if it wasn't for your dad standing outside another door. Jungkook feels about 10cm tall as he walks up to him, his shoulders hunching up to his ears as shame flushes through him. It wouldn't surprise him if your dad hit him, even if it had been his mom who'd said everything.

Stopping in front of him, Jungkook opens his mouth to apologise but he's cut off by strong arms pulling him into a hug. It's a little awkward, with Jungkook's hands dangling uselessly.

"I'm sorry." Your dad says, his tone full of compassion and it confuses him.

"Why are you apologising? I should be, I'm so sorry you had to hear that…I-I don't know what," Looking down, he frowns in frustration. "I've kicked her out…of my life too, hopefully."

"It's not your fault, a child isn't responsible for what their parents say, okay? You love my daughter, I know that. She's in with her mum," He states, nodding his head to the door. "I'm sorry this happened, you don't deserve it."

Jungkook's throat tightens, and all he can do is nod before going through the door. It's a small receiving room inside, with a fancy-looking couch taking up most of the space. He doesn't even understand the purpose of this room, but he doesn't care. Not when you're sat on the couch, your dress splayed out around you with your mom sitting beside you, her arm around your shoulders.

His heart breaks again when he sees the tears on your face, and he feels like shouting in anger at his mom once more. But he doesn't, because this isn't about her.

Glancing at your mom, he notes the upset and pain in her eyes and gives her a tiny smile. She stands, moving over and hugging him as well.

"I'm sorry about all this." He can tell there's more she wants to say, but she restrains herself with a glance back at you. Once she's left the room, Jungkook moves over to you and frowns, pressing his lips together before crouching next to you.

You stare blankly at your hands, tear after tear following well-laid tracks down your face. He knew that you'd opted for waterproof makeup, but even that wasn't able to keep up with the amount you were crying. Not to mention whenever you wiped them away.

"Y/N…" He whispered, feeling useless. It was his mom, and he hadn't seen you cry like this before. You'd cried in pain at the loss of your babies twice now, you'd cried at the fact that a year of passively trying had yielded only one miscarriage and nothing else, you'd occasionally cried when you'd got so overwhelmed from stress but never like this.

Never the quiet and defeated way you were crying now, the slump to your shoulders and the pained look in your eyes breaking his heart. He hated that he couldn't fix this immediately.

Kneeling on the floor - he didn't care if he got his rented tuxedo dirty - he reaches out and takes your hand. Your engagement ring is on your right hand for today, waiting for the wedding band that would be placed onto your left ring finger before joining it once more.

"I'm so sorry." He goes to say something else but surprises himself by breaking down. It annoys him that he's crying when you're the one who suffered such horrible insults, but his heart is aching for you and he's so confused and upset.

Pressing his face into the soft fabric of your dress, he lets out a quiet sob.

"Don't cry, please don't cry." You whisper, running your fingers through his hair in that soothing way he loves. He should be comforting you, and he feels annoyed at himself like he's letting his mom win by letting you baby him and comfort him.

"I should've known, I should've pushed back on inviting her. She's never gonna change, she's just so bitter and cruel. She's not the mom I knew." Jungkook says, sniffling as he looks up at you. At the woman he loves so much, he didn't even know it was possible to love like this.

"Maybe she's right," You whisper, your voice so thin and broken, and he doesn't get a chance to refute before you continue speaking. "I love you, and I've never loved someone so much but…I've never really felt worthy of you. I try to push those thoughts aside, but…you know what it's like. When those negative thoughts get in your head and it wiggles in. Sometimes I just look at you and wonder why you're here…why me? You're younger and ridiculously good-looking and in shape, with plenty of money and you're so damn kind and fun. Why me? I never really understood and you always showered me with love so I just ignored it but…everything she said is something I've already hurt myself with by saying before."

He stares at you in horror, and hatred for his mom swirls in his gut. All the shit she'd spouted had been stuff he'd heard before, and he knew that you'd asked yourself it sometimes. You'd even asked him outright on occasion, but hearing the defeated way you agree with his mom leaves him heartbroken.

"No, no don't listen to her. She's just a bitter and hateful woman because she can't control her son anymore and that I won't follow the life she thought I'd have. I don't care about what she said, she's wrong. You're the best thing to happen to me." He pleads, and he genuinely doesn't know how to resolve this. Fighting negative thoughts is a battle that many lose, and he's terrified that you're being forced to confront such awful ones on what should've been such a happy day.

"What if she is right? I mean…I'm already struggling to give you a baby and the problem is more likely to be me than you. You're young and in great shape, whereas I'm older and overweight. What if we can never have kids and it's all because of me? And she's right that you could be with someone younger and prettier, you get hit on all the time and like…what if one of those girls is who you're meant to be with? What if they could give you a baby immediately? You're so…perfect, and I'm not. I know that. People don't think I'm pretty, I'm fat, I don't like wearing makeup, I'm opinionated, I'm older than you, I don't shave all the time-" 

"Stop, stop, please stop," Jungkook begs, his voice breaking as tears fall so fast. "I don't care what my mom thinks, I don't. And I know that's a luxury you can't have, but please…stop telling me what I should think. I don't care what other people think, and I don't want you to put their opinions onto me. I love you, I love everything about you and I love all the bits you don't love. I think you're beautiful, and I genuinely don't care about your weight. If I did, I would've said something or just never approached you. I love that you have opinions and you're willing to say them, it's hot as fuck to me. I love that you're confident enough in yourself to not wear makeup and shave all the time, it doesn't bother me. I've always said that I love the confidence that you have that comes from being older, that you have your life put together and don't have to rely on me,"

"I love your smile, I love your hands, I love your face, I love your laugh, I love your jokes, I love you. And what if I'm the problem? What if I have slow swimmers, or not enough? What if they're weak? Maybe a younger girl would get pregnant instantly, but I don't want that. I want you. If I'm gonna have a baby, then I want it with you. If we never have babies, then as long I'm with you, then it's fine. I love you, and it's killing me that you have these thoughts and you're having to have them on today of all days. Today should be happy, and I'm so sorry that it's not. Please…believe me. I love you." He begs, kissing your fingers as if he's trying to press his feelings into you by force.

Silence falls, and he gets the sense that it's not a negative kind of quiet, but more a contemplative one as you think through what he's said. Being on his knees and begging you to believe his love wasn't what he expected on his wedding day, but then he also hadn't ever expected his mom to show how ugly she is.

Finally, you shift your hands in his until you can cup his cheek. Immediately, he presses into your touch like a sun-starved flower meeting the morning rays of light. He doesn't notice the small smile you give him, doesn't even realise he's closed his eyes at your touch until he hears the sharp exhale of your laugh.

Looking up at you - your dress looks even more beautiful on you this close - he takes in the way your tears have slowed. Taking in a deep breath, a little shakier than it would've been at any other time, you lean forward and lightly kiss him on the forehead.

Before he can even say anything, you're already rubbing away the lipstick mark that had been left and he feels hope spark in his chest once more. You've both been through a lot, and you've done it together. This was just another obstacle, right?

"You're such a good man, Jungkook." You murmur, opening your arms slightly in invitation. He takes it immediately, rising to sit on the couch next to you. A yelp of surprise leaves you as he carefully lifts you onto his lap, a grunt leaving him with the effort and he feels fear flash through him. What if you thought he thought you were too heavy with that noise?

But you giggle, and the noise soothes his worries. 

Wrapping his arms around your waist, Jungkook hugs you as tightly as he can without ruining your dress and presses his head into the space between your neck and shoulder. Breathing in deeply, he takes in the soft scent of your favourite perfume and the lingering smell of your peach body wash, all with the unique smell underneath it all that was just you. 

"I'm not that good. You do complain at me for leaving the empty milk cartons in the fridge, and for not cleaning the sink after I brush my teeth, and for always eating the chips that you wanted, and-" You cut him off with a laugh, kissing him as he smiles at you happily.

"Shut up, you know what I meant." Jungkook grins before nodding, kissing your cheek and making a face at the gross taste of the makeup on it. He doesn't say anything, though, but he notes the way you smile and wipe his lips clean.

"I know, and I don't want you to like…idolise me. But I also don't want you to listen to my asshole of a mom. I kicked her out, by the way. My dad said sorry, I can imagine there's gonna be a big ass fight when they get home and I'm glad. She needs some reality." Pursing his lips, he half wishes he could see his mom get put in her place. At least, he hopes his dad does that.

"He doesn't need to apologise, it's not his fault. Same as it's not your fault." You muse, your gaze lifting before you begin to clean up his hair. He can only assume it's looking a bit rough right now, what with how much he was pulling it outside.

"Will you believe that, too?"

"Why wouldn't I? I invited her to try and build bridges between us both, but she's made her feelings clear. It annoys me that she's made me cry and humiliated us both, but that was what she wanted. So…I'm not over it, I'm definitely not over it. I still want to run away and curl up and cry. I've no doubt that I'm gonna have some depressive relapses now, which I'm totally looking forward to, but her need to be cruel is not my fault, or your fault, or your dad's." Jungkook wonders if it would be too much to fall to his knees and worship you right now.

He's always known that you were level-headed and confident, it was one of the reasons he fell for you. The age difference that sometimes worries you has let you wrangle your inner demons and learn to understand and love yourself, so it doesn't surprise him that you're bouncing back so quickly. It also isn't a shock that you're so pragmatic about your mental health, though he's fully prepared for the tears that will come.

But this level of reasoning, after such a shocking event, is surprising even to him. Your wedding was interrupted by his mom, who proceeded to personally insult you in front of those you love and here you are…less than half an hour later and already laughing with him.

God, if he hadn't loved you before…

"You're amazing, you know that?" Jungkook laughs, leaning back slightly and just marvelling at you. Your makeup is a little ruined, and your dress isn't nearly as neat and pristine as it had been, yet you've never been more beautiful to him.

"Is everyone still out there?" You ask, and he hears the soft tremor you try to keep out. As resilient as you are, you're still a person with feelings at the end of the day, and even he feels uncertain at the thought of going back out to friends and family who will be concerned and shocked.

"Yeah, they are. Or should be. I mean, it's up to you but…they've said they'd love to still see us get married. It's why they're all here, and they're not assholes like my mom. But if you don't feel up to it then…we could do the vows in here, or something? Or…well, we could postpone it, if you wanted." He really, really doesn't want to postpone it. Jungkook had woken up this morning excited to marry you, and the thought of going to bed without your ring on his finger made him feel sad.

Pushing up from his lap, you move over to the door and cross your arms whilst an outraged look paints your face.

"Are you kidding? I'm not postponing our wedding, not unless you want to. Your mom is a bitch, but not even she can make me willing to lose the thousands we've spent on this day. Plus, I really wanna marry you. We're not letting her win, okay? Fuck her." Lifting your chin, you get a distinctly obstinate look on your face and he can't help but laugh.

"Yeah, fuck her. I'll tell everyone and sort it out with the officiant. Do you want me to send Momo in, there's no mirror if you're wanting to touch up or anything." He asks, referring to your best friend and maid of honour who had recently moved closer. While your mascara and eyeliner have done a valiant job of holding up, it's still pretty obvious you've been crying and Jungkook doesn't know enough about makeup to help you fix it up.

Taking a deep breath for stability, you nod and smile at him.

"Yes, please. Give us five minutes or so, and say sorry to the officiant for me, too?"

Moving over to you, Jungkook grins and lightly cups your face in his hands. You smile back at him, and he knows that you'll probably both need to go through some therapy after today but taking control again feels good. Plus, as you said - he wasn't going to let his mom win.

"I love you." He states, before giving you a quick kiss.

"Love you, too. Let everyone know that if someone else does something to ruin today, then I will punch them. And I don't care if I don't know how to hit properly, I've reached the limit of shit I'll take today."

"It's okay, I do know how to hit properly so I'll do it for you."

[adidastain]

just you and me

90s matt stone x fem reader

warnings: implied smut, alcohol use

notes: first person perspective (I, me, my, etc.)

word count: 2217

—

“Oh, Trey! Ah!”

I looked over at the man sitting next to me. He was pinching his nose bridge, groaning slightly.

A laugh escaped through my nose as the sound of steady thumping filled the room. My friend and I were over at her boyfriend’s house to watch football, and she sort of ditched the living room with her boyfriend to go fuck upstairs. Now I was left alone with Trey’s roommate, Matt, who seemed just as awkward as me.

My friend practically screamed, before I could hear Trey shushing her. I shook my head and Matt took his glasses off to run his palms over his face.

“Jesus Christ,” he exhaled, laughing slightly. I giggled and stood up to make my way towards the kitchen.

“You want a beer?” I asked, rummaging through their refrigerator.

“No thanks,” he huffed, standing up as well.

Matt joined me in the kitchen to toss an empty beer can in the recycling. Their kitchen was quite small, so he sort of had to shimmy past me and I swear I felt our hips brush together.

“Can you hand me that cheese?” he said.

The only cheese I could see in the fridge was a little bag of shredded cheese, labeled “Four-Cheese Mexican Blend.”

I watched him as he poured a pile of chips onto a plate, before sprinkling cheese on top and throwing it all in the microwave.

“Did you see me on Master Chef last season?” he asked, grinning. Thumping continued steadily upstairs.

“I knew you looked familiar,” I said, playing along with his joke. Matt giggled and looked down at his feet, shuffling in his position.

I watched him nibble at his fingernails as silence filled the room. He seemed so shy all the sudden; I guess that was just from the fact that we didn’t really know each other and only just met a few hours ago.

My friend had told me about him a couple times and suggested I go out with him. I think she just wanted someone to go on double dates with. It sounded pretty ridiculous, but I guess after actually meeting him I’d maybe feel better about it.

He seemed like the funny type; I could tell he and Trey were practically inseparable. They were perfect for each other. But Trey was loud, and Matt definitely wasn’t.

“It’s been five minutes now,” Matt said, looking at his watch.

“They usually go for about twenty,” I added. “Supposedly.”

Matt laughed softly. He had a cute laugh, sort of. The gap between his front teeth really did a lot for him as far as charm went.

Suddenly, the microwave beeped and he presented his award-winning dish to me. The cheese melted into one big glob that bound a bunch of chips together as well.

“Nachos,” Matt beamed.

I giggled and rolled my eyes slightly. This guy was a total dork. My friend did tell me it was time I gave dorky guys a chance, since all three of my previous boyfriends were either jocks or models. But they all sucked, so maybe she was right.

Matt picked apart the glob of chips and cheese, snacking idly. He never went back to the couch though, so long as I was still in the kitchen. I could hear Trey groaning loudly above us, while my friend whimpered and moaned with each thud.

“Great game, huh?” I asked, breaking the silence so we wouldn’t have to listen to our friends having sex for the next, who knows how many minutes.

“Yeah,” Matt said. “The uh, Ravens are really kicking ass tonight.”

He somehow kept a straight face. I guess I was a little buzzed and delirious after having one beer, but to be honest, anything was funnier than listening to people fuck.

“I don’t know anything about football,” I admitted, picking at my fingernails.

“Me neither,” he snorted. “I like basketball. And hockey.”

“Hockey’s cool,” I agreed.

Silence again. Except for the thumping and creaking and moaning.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, gripping my face with my hands. I ran my fingers through my hair, leaning forward to sort of curl up like a shrimp.

“They always do this when she’s over,” Matt sighed, his voice hushed. “Wouldn’t you think, y’know… maybe they’d get bored of it?”

I threw my hands up. “Exactly!” I huffed.

“I guess I can’t really say anything, though,” he mumbled.

“Why not?” I asked, rubbing my forehead.

Matt bit his lip, staring down at his feet. “I wouldn’t turn down getting laid.”

“Well, duh,” I snorted. “But would you ditch your friend to have sex? At a stranger’s house?”

Matt shook his head.

“Exactly,” I whined.

“If you wanna leave, I can drive you home or something-“ Matt offered.

I shook my head. “It’s fine. They’ll be done soon. Hopefully.”

“Okay,” he laughed.

I sighed again, letting my gaze linger on him for a few seconds. I studied the way the fabric of his shirt hung from his shoulders, which were slightly slanted and very broad. The fabric caught on his collarbone and clung to the muscles in his chest, which weren’t huge, but still prominent. The rest of his body seemed to drown in the shirt; he looked skinny but his chest and arms were fairly toned.

Matt’s eyes caught mine and I actually blushed. He simply smiled like a dork. He really was quite cute…

That’s when I got my brilliant idea.

“Wanna make out?” I asked, taking a step towards him.

Matt’s eyes widened and he snorted. His body shifted to the side, shoulders shrugging as he stepped closer. “Sure.”

I bit my lip and carefully grabbed his hands, letting my body naturally gravitate towards his while I stared into his eyes. I could see now that he had dark green irises behind those big glasses.

Before I knew it, his lips met mine in a very gentle, ghostlike peck as he tested the waters. Matt reached up to caress my neck; his hands felt absolutely colossal in comparison to my slim frame. They were warm too.

I was shocked at how gentle he was being. We kissed so carefully, barely grazing each other’s lips and taking our time.

However, after moving my hands from his arms to his waist, I pulled him closer by the hips and stood on my tiptoes, attempting to deepen our kiss and build more passion between us. I wanted to feel his desire and see just how good he was at this.

It was then that Matt started holding his breath. As I kissed him deeper and opened my mouth slightly, I could feel his muscles tense up and he became hesitant to move. It seemed he focused most of his attention on moving his mouth in time with mine, strangled exhales escaping his lips every few seconds when we’d pull away in between kisses.

My hand slid up his torso to caress his face as I leaned back and looked into his eyes. His face was slightly pink and his lips were parted.

“You’re a pretty good kisser,” I smiled, glancing at his soft, warm lips.

Matt grinned, tooth gap on full display. “Not so bad yourself,” he said softly.

I let my hands fall to squeeze his biceps. “But you’re all tense,” I told him.

“Am I not allowed to be a little nervous?” he laughed sheepishly. “I barely know you.”

“Aw, you’re nervous,” I whispered. I kissed him again. “How sweet.”

“Yeah, kinda,” he said defensively. “You’re pretty.”

I hummed, pulling him back in to shut him up. This time I backed up so that the counter was digging into my hips and he could press his body against mine as hard as he could.

Matt grunted, before briefly pulling away. “Is it cool if I put my hand here?” he asked, placing his warm hand carefully on my waist.

I nodded, sliding my arms around his long neck to pull him back in. Once Matt had a good hold on my torso, I could feel a warm, tingly sort of sensation deep in the pit of my stomach. I could still hear thudding from above and I thought about quickly fucking this dork in the kitchen before they were finished upstairs. The thought was quickly pushed away, however.

“Mm… this feels dangerous,” he mumbled in between kisses. I could feel his lips curl into a smirk against my lips as he spoke, his warm hands massaging my waist.

“What do you mean?” I asked, panting softly.

“I might have a thing for you after this,” he exhaled. “You’re so good…”

I swear I didn’t mean to, but I let out a very soft, barely audible moan as he said this to me. The last thing I expected was for him to talk like that, but it kind of drove me crazy.

Fuck.

Matt pulled away and looked me in the eyes, seemingly flabbergasted by the sound I made. The eye contact was so intense. My heart was pounding in my chest, even faster than the thudding from upstairs.

Between the few seconds we spent staring at each other, Matt leaned closer and closer, letting his forehead rest against mine. It was oddly intimate, but I honestly loved it. Something about the fact that he was practically a complete stranger to me, yet still able to make me feel so flustered and anxious but comfortable at the same time, drew me closer to him. I felt need, like if I didn’t have him now, I’d never have him again.

I can’t believe I proved my friend right again.

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. I can’t hook up with this guy here. Not right now. I felt insane for even thinking about it. I felt reckless.

My fingertip grazed over his lip, before leaning in to kiss him again, softly. I kissed him like I needed it to breathe, but not so much that I would die without it. Like I was kissing him just to kiss him. Taking time to breathe in between each kiss, letting my lips linger for a few seconds. The kind of kiss you’d share after having sex, when you’re exhausted and trying to catch your breath.

Eventually, we heard a loud, high-pitched whine echo from upstairs. We pulled away, giggling softly as the two lovebirds were seemingly finished doing their deed. Sadly, this meant my time with Matt was spent and I’d have to wait until our next meeting to do anything else.

“Hey,” he whispered, lifting my chin up so I’d look him in the eyes. “We should hang out sometime. Just you and me.”

I raised my eyebrows, laying my palms flat against his broad chest. “What would we do?” I teased, knowing damn well exactly what he had in mind.

“I dunno,” he giggled. “We’ll see how it goes.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Even if he was a sweet, dorky guy, he was still a guy. But who am I to judge? I almost tried to fuck him on his kitchen counter a few minutes prior.

“Okay,” I laughed.

Matt kissed me again, this time caressing my throat as he opened his mouth and licked my lips. I gasped and practically froze, immediately accepting the gesture by parting my lips and letting my tongue slide against his.

He tasted like tequila and the feeling of his hot, wet tongue against mine was absolutely intoxicating.

Unfortunately, after a minute or so, we heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and Matt let go of me. His warmth left with him and I felt cold as his body moved away. Aside from that, my face was on fire as my heart was racing and my lips still tasted like him.

Trey came downstairs alone, face probably just as flushed as mine and Matt’s. He let out a breathy “Hey,” before reaching inside the fridge to grab a cold beer. Matt and I responded in sync and I only felt my face grow warmer.

“Oh shit, Ravens are kicking ass. Sweet,” Trey said as he left the kitchen. I looked at Matt, who was biting his lip to stifle a laugh.

Eventually, my friend came back downstairs and we all gathered in the living room once again. Her and Trey were glued to each other of course, but instead of Matt and I sitting on opposite ends of the couch, I managed to squeeze in between him and the armrest.

Inevitably, my friend gave me that look, and I gave her the look. No words were said and none were needed. I couldn’t help but smile slightly, crossing my arms as I let my body ever so slightly lean towards Matt’s.

“When does hockey season start?” I whispered to him.

“It’s still going, I think,” he said quietly, looking down at me.

“Good,” I hummed, looking back towards the TV. Matt scoffed and I could feel him staring at me for a few seconds.

As the night went on and more drinks went around, my friend decided to sleep over with Trey, so Matt drove me home. Which was perfectly fine, because he ended up spending the night with me too. Though, to be honest, we spent very little time sleeping.