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osamusriceballs · 1 year ago

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The Accident - Part VI

Atsumu x fem Reader

Warnings: None

Words: ~ 1,1 k

About: The flashback ends- but what will you do next?

Part I II -> Next Part

"You're not getting married."

Osamu's sharp remark did not have the intended effect. Both of you were still clinging to each other, acting all lovey-dovey.

"Samuu, you don't understand. She's my soulmate. I love her." Osamu's eyes almost popped out of their sockets while he kept watching how you two clung to each other and smiled like idiots, your hand on his cheek after he had said these words.

"You don't even know her. And stop touching her like that in public."

Atsumu's hands started wandering on your back, his fingertips teasing the bare skin on your back much to your delight - but to Osamu's horror.

"I don't mind - but who are you?" You turned towards him, and he paused for a second. You were beautiful, that much was certain. Shiny eyes, glossy lips, and a dress that looked like it had been made for you - but he quickly discarded every thought about your looks when he knew that he needed to stop this nonsense.

"I'm Osamu Miya. His brother."

"Oh." Your eyes widened as you took in his appearance, probably only then realizing how similar he looked to the man whose lap you were currently sitting on.

"Samu, we gotta go. The barkeeper told us that there's a priest next to this club."

"You're not getting married."

No matter how many times he repeated the sentence, it seemed like Atsumu was unable to understand.

xxxxxx

"And then you convinced me to get your car to drive us home. Wouldn't stop bickerin' about how it's expensive and designer and about how it costs more than Onigiri Miya will ever make. I'll definitely kick your ass for that."

A muscle under Osamu's eye twitches when he mentions the comment, and you have to hold back a snort at this. He's kind of cute when he's angry.

"And then?"

"You were gone. Found ya at the church, but it was too late. You idiots already signed the contract."

You slowly step back until your knees reach the bed, and you heavily sink down on it. It feels like he's telling you a story right out of a movie, not something that has happened just a few hours ago, the whole thing still too absurd and unreal.

"Can we redeem it?" You look at Osamu, like he's the only one that can save you now, and he somehow actually is. You still have hope that you can get out of this without negatively impacting the rest of your life.

"I've talked to our lawyer. It's a waterproof contract. Very surprising because the church was more than just a bit shady. You're both bound for a year until ya can file for divorce." His words feel like a death sentence, and you find yourself at a loss for words. You gulp at his words, blinking a few times to suppress your tears. You're an idiot—an idiot for getting in a situation like this.

It's silent.

You don't dare to look at either of them, your gaze only focused on the phone in your hands, and every passing second makes you feel even more uncomfortable, until you can't stand the silence anymore.

"I'll get going."

You stiffly get on your feet, your movements robotic and lifeless while you make an attempt to leave, but you're quick to get stopped by Atsumu before you can even make more than getting up. "Wait- I- I don't even have yer number!"

"Oh." You pause, standing there for a few moments while you watch Atsumu getting closer to you, until there is not much space left between the two of you when he stands right in front of you. "Hey- are you okay?" Concern laces his voice while he looks down at you, and you manage to nod with a forced smile. "Peachy."

Osamu snorts at your comment and shakes his head, a movement that you barely see in the corner of your eyes. He probably feels guilty for the whole situation too, the dark cicles under his eyes similar to Atsumu's, certainly because he tried to find a solution for this and did not sleep at all during the night. "People who say 'peachy' are anything but fine."

"Hey, look at me." Atsumu ignores his brother's comment and brings his hand to your cheek. You're startled but allow him to turn your face upwards until your eyes lock. "I'm not letting ya go when ya can't even walk properly. You'll eat something, then you'll take a nice hot shower and get in some clean clothes and then I'll bring ya home. That alright with you?" There is something about the way he softly states the words that sends a comforting wave of warmth through your body, and you find yourself nodding and trusting him.

"Hmm. Good girl. Now just eat the rest of the fries while Samu gets ya some clothes. Right, Samu?" Atsumu breaks the eye contact with you to look sharply at Osamu, who only sighs and nods. "I saw a souvenir shop at the lobby. Better than nothin'." You now look at Atsumu's side-profile, admiring his sharp jaw line, unable to do something else but wondering if there is even one bad angle on this perfect man, while Osamu leaves the room with another deep sigh.

"Shouldn't I have given him some money?" You take a deep breath and wipe your hands on your dress, noticing how clammy they got. Probably a side-effect of the nervousness.

Atsumu snorts and returns his gaze to you, an amused smile on his lips. "That serves him right. He always brags about how much he makes with his stupid restaurant." Atsumu looks so similar to Osamu when he rolls his eyes; it's almost comical. "Don't tell him I said that, but he really makes the best food ever. I'll take ya there and show you."

You hum approvingly, feeling somewhat a tingle run down your spine at the prospect of him taking you out for dinner but try to ignore it. "C'mon. Eat the rest of the fries. I saw how ya inhaled them. You can have mine too." He grins, something that makes him seem absolutely adorable, and you find yourself smiling back at him, a warm feeling running through your body.

"I'm not hungry anymore. I'll take a shower then?" You questioningly raise your brows, and he nods. "Yeah, of course. When Samu comes back, I'll put the clothes in front of the bathroom."

Thank you," you raise your hand as if to pat his shoulder, but you halt the movement just before reaching him. You shouldn't touch him. Technically, you don't even know him. His gaze flickers to your hand, and he appears to consider taking it. However, he quickly steps to the side, giving you some space to move to the bathroom.

Without looking back at him, you close the bathroom door, take a deep breath, and glance at the phone in your hand. You scroll until you find the picture of a bright-haired person—

and decide to finally make a call.

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angelseraphines · 12 days ago

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ೃ⁀➷ gods and monsters ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x wife!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!

˚ ༘♡ you cherished your husband, your family, and the life you had created together. hwang in-ho was a man of contradictions, capable of immense love and devotion. he treated you with such care, as though you were the most precious thing in his world. his adoration was tangible in every gesture, every lingering glance. yet beneath that tenderness was a darkness you struggled to reconcile. this same man, who held your hand with precious affection, was also the masked overseer of the squid game, a series of merciless challenges where the desperate competed, often at the cost of their lives, for a staggering cash prize.

˚ ༘♡ you could never truly fathom it. the man who pressed sweet kisses to your forehead at night was the same monster who orchestrated a spectacle of death and suffering. he claimed no pleasure in it, but the mere fact of his involvement unsettled you. the gleaming black mask, the command he held over every horrific detail, it was a world so far removed from the comfort of your home, yet it belonged to him all the same.

˚ ༘♡ only once had he asked if you wished to attend, to see what he called “his other life.” the question had terrified you to your core, your lips parting in silent dismay. you hadn’t needed to answer. the way your expression shifted, the way fright and disapproval glared across your pallid face, was enough. he never brought it up again, never risked shattering the fragile balance he had created between his two identities.

˚ ༘♡ you were a mother to a healthy three-year-old son, who filled your days with laughter and energy, and you were carrying another child, though you had yet to tell your husband. the news remained a quiet secret, one you turned over in your mind during the solitude of the evening. it wasn’t fear of his reaction that kept you silent. hwang in-ho adored his family, there was no question of that, but the thought of bringing another life into the shadow of the games unsettled you.

˚ ༘♡ you tried to focus on being the woman you wanted to be, a loving mother, a supportive partner. in many ways, you succeeded. you tucked your son in every night with whispered stories and soft lullabies, kept your home warm and welcoming, and met your husband’s gaze with as much love as you could muster, even when doubts crept into the corners of your mind.

˚ ༘♡ when your worries became too much to bear, he would sense it, always. he would take your hands in his, his voice calm, his tone measured. “think of me as two men,” he would say, his words a plea for understanding. “there is hwang in-ho, your husband, your partner, the father of our children. and then there is the front man, a role i play, a mask i wear.”

˚ ༘♡ you wanted to believe him, to hold on to the idea that the man who kissed you tenderly each morning could be separate from the one who orchestrated so much pain. but no matter how you tried to comprehend it, there were nights when the thought of who he was beyond your shared walls kept you awake, your heart aching with questions you couldn’t bring yourself to ask.

˚ ༘♡ you tried with all your might to separate the two sides of the man you loved, the front man and your husband, hwang in-ho. but when he told you he wouldn’t be able to contact you during this year’s games, the delicate balance you had worked so hard to maintain crumbled. the weight of his words refused to settle, tearing at you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to simply let it go.

˚ ༘♡ “every year, you’ve managed to visit after the game for the day. what’s different this time?” you asked, your voice trembling with desperation.

˚ ༘♡ at first, he deflected, his tone dismissive as if your concerns were unwarranted. but as your worry grew, it became impossible for him to ignore. the strain in your expression, the way your voice cracked when you spoke, it was enough to wear him down. even your son had begun to notice, his small hands tugging at your sleeve, his innocent eyes filled with confusion at the tension that filled the air.

˚ ༘♡ with a frustrated sigh, in-ho finally relented. his hand enveloped yours, warm and steady against your trembling fingers. “i will be there this year,” he admitted, his voice hushed and measured. “as a player.”

˚ ༘♡ the words sent a chill through you, and your breath caught in your throat. “what? why?” you asked, your disbelief slicing through the tension.

˚ ༘♡ his gaze locked onto yours. “there is someone returning to the games this year,” he began, his tone careful. “a former player, a winner in fact. he’s likely to cause complications, and… i can’t deny the intrigue of watching him. this year will be different. i’ve decided to stay close by instead of observing from a distance.”

˚ ༘♡ fury and agony surged within you, and your hands shook as you lightly struck his chest, the beating driven by hysteria. “you idiot!” you yelled. “you can’t guarantee you’ll be safe! have you even thought about your family? what about our son?”

˚ ༘♡ he caught your wrist gently, his grip cautious, his face softening as he pulled you closer. “i will not be in danger,” he said, his voice calm but insistent. “i promise you that.”

˚ ༘♡ still, his assurance wasn’t enough. it didn’t stop the knot in your stomach from tightening or the ache in your chest from growing far more intense. the words you spoke next tumbled out before you had a chance to think them through. “if that’s true, then you won’t have any problem with me coming along!”

˚ ༘♡ the declaration hung in the air, sharp and sudden. even you were startled by it, your heart pounding in your chest as the misery of your demand settled between you. fear and anger had driven you to say it, but now it was too late to take it back. you searched his face for a reaction, your pulse racing.

˚ ༘♡ “don’t speak such nonsense again," he said firmly, his tone cutting through the tension in the room. "you have our son to think about. i am going, and i’ll return in a week. this is final."

˚ ༘♡ “no!” you shot back, the tremor in your voice betraying your growing panic. “if you’re going, then i’m coming with you. you told me it’s safe.” your eyes darted toward your son, who had long fallen asleep, blissfully unaware of the battle unfolding. a wave of guilt swept over you, tightening your throat. “he can stay with the household staff for a week. do you think i could take care of him properly while i’m sick with worry about you?”

˚ ༘♡ his brow furrowed, the sharp lines of irritation creasing his weary face. “you’re being unreasonable,” he said, his voice hard, though it faltered slightly as he began pacing the room. each step was measured, purposeful, as though he were trying to walk away from the argument itself. “this is dangerous enough without you there complicating things.”

˚ ༘♡ “and you’re being infuriating,” you countered, your tone rising as desperation overtook your earlier composure. “do you think I’d forgive myself if something happened to you while i stayed here and did nothing? you’re asking too much of me.” your voice cracked, the weight of your despair spilling into the room.

˚ ༘♡ the argument carried on into the late hour, a nightmare of clashing scorn and unresolved fears. he tried to dismiss you, to shut you down with reason, but you refused to back down. your agony, raw and untamed, eventually drove you to the brink. “if you go without me, i’ll leave,” you said, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “i’ll take our son, and i’ll leave.”

˚ ༘♡ the silence that followed was deafening. he froze, his gaze snapping to yours, searching your face for the truth. you hated the lie, the hollowness of your own threat, but it was all you had left. leaving him wasn’t something you could ever do, but the thought of him walking into danger alone was unbearable.

˚ ༘♡ he exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging under the burden of his dilemma. “fine,” he said at last, his voice clipped and low. “if you’re coming, then there are conditions… rules that have to be carefully followed.”

˚ ༘♡ your relief was immediate but short-lived as his words settled over you like a heavy cloak. “what conditions?” you asked, your voice softer now, cautious.

˚ ༘♡ “we’ll need to use false identities," he explained, his tone deliberate, each word chosen with care. "to everyone involved, we’re strangers. no one can know who we are, not even that we’re connected."

˚ ༘♡ the practicality of his demand sent a shiver down your spine, even as you nodded in agreement. the idea of pretending he was nothing more than a stranger felt unnatural, wrong, but you couldn’t argue. “i understand,” you murmured, though the knot in your stomach tightened with every passing second.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on you as though considering whether you truly grasped what you were stepping into. when he finally looked away, you felt no sense of victory, only the forthcoming horror of what lay ahead.

˚ ༘♡ the games were set to begin in exactly one week, and each passing day left you feeling more unsettled. every time your husband pulled you into his arms, the unease lingered beneath the surface, making it difficult to fully surrender to his warmth. though you tried to find comfort in his presence, the thought of what lay ahead clouded every shared moment.

˚ ༘♡ you had entrusted your son to the most reliable and loyal members of the household staff, ensuring that he would be cared for in your absence. you also took great care to conceal any sign of your pregnancy. if in-ho discovered the truth, he would never allow you to join him, and staying behind was not an option you could accept.

˚ ༘♡ he had laid out the plan with meticulous precision. the two of you would arrive after the chaos of the first game, red light, green light. as he explained it, a large portion of the participants would undoubtedly be eliminated once they grasped the deadly reality of the games. the aftermath of that horror would provide cover for your entrance, allowing you to integrate without raising suspicion.

˚ ༘♡ your husband would take on the identity of player 001, an unassuming participant with no visible ties to you. your alias would be player 077, your stories carefully crafted to fit the narrative. his fabricated reason for joining the games was both haunting and ironic, he claimed he needed money for his pregnant wife. when he first told you this, a wave of panic washed over you, thinking he might have discovered your secret. but as you studied his expression, his calm demeanor revealed no hint of realization.

˚ ༘♡ for your feigned story, he decided you would play the role of a young woman drowning in debt, struggling to pay off the burdens left behind by your late father. the lie felt strangely fitting, yet it unsettled you all the same. every detail he crafted for your cover seemed so calculated, so detached, it was as though he had rehearsed this for far longer than he let on. this game of life and death was nothing more than a facade for him.

˚ ༘♡ you nodded along as he explained the plan, his voice unwavering. though the words were spoken with care, they failed to soothe the growing tension within you. each step of the plan felt cold, clinical, designed to strip away any sense of the life you shared outside these games. with every passing day, the distance between hwang in-ho, your husband, and the front man became more glaring, and you wondered if you could truly separate the two when it mattered most.

˚ ༘♡ you knelt by your son’s bedside, planting a soft kiss against his forehead. his small hand clung to your finger, and for a vanishing moment, you felt the crushing weight of guilt threaten to undo you. you whispered promises you weren’t sure you could keep, telling him you would be back soon, that everything would be fine. as his breathing slowed in sleep, you lingered a minute longer, memorizing the curve of his face and the delicate skin of his tiny hand before slipping away with your husband.

˚ ༘♡ the player uniforms were a tight, oppressive reminder of the role you had agreed to take on. the white and forest-green fabric felt rough against your skin, the stitched numbers, 001 on him, 077 on you, marking you both as part of this wicked charade. the air between you was dense with unspoken tension as you followed his lead into the heart of the games.

˚ ༘♡ the aftermath of the first game hit you like a physical blow. scarlet-red blood smeared the walls, the metallic stench thick enough to taste. lifeless bodies were being dragged away by masked figures, their uniforms pristine against the carnage. your stomach churned violently, and you had to bite down hard to keep from retching. your husband walked ahead, his pace measured, his face a mask of icy detachment.

˚ ༘♡ yet, even as he feigned indifference, you noticed the subtle tension p his clenched fists and the hard line of his jaw. no matter how disciplined and resolute he was, pretending you were a stranger clearly cost him some of his will power.

˚ ༘♡ you entered the massive dormitory, a cavernous space where the remaining players huddled in groups, their expressions etched with terror and disbelief. the room was alive with murmurs, frantic whispers of confusion and distress as they tried to process what had happened. the realization of the deadly nature of the games hung over the crowd, suffocating and inescapable.

˚ ༘♡ abruptly, a piercing voice broke through the calamity, commanding and filled with urgency. all eyes turned to player 456, a man whose presence seemed to dominate the room. his words were bold, calling for a vote in accordance with the consent clause, a chance for the players to decide whether they would continue or abandon the games. the idea rippled through the crowd, igniting faint glimmers of hope in some and deepening the despair in others.

˚ ༘♡ your husband moved slightly, a subtle shift in his stance catching your attention. his gaze flicked toward you, so brief it was almost imperceptible. then, with deliberate movements, he traced a small circle on the back of his hand, an action so precise it disturbed you. he turned away before you could react, his focus now on the masked enforcers who were setting up the voting station.

˚ ༘♡ it took you a moment to understand the message. he wanted you to vote in favor of continuing the games. the realization landed suddenly. you clenched your fists, your nails biting into your palms as you tried to steady yourself. the thought of condemning the remaining players to more death and suffering was unbearable, but you understood what his silent gesture meant. if the games ended now, everything he had planned, every risk he had taken, would amount to nothing.

˚ ༘♡ the apprehension caused your chest to tighten further as the masked figures prepared the voting station, their movements mechanical and precise. the voices of the players rose, some pleading for an end, others arguing to stay. you felt your pulse quicken, the enormity of what you were about to do pressing down on you as you prepared to cast a vote that would decide not only the fate of the players but the course of your husband’s dangerous mission.

a/n: the winner of the fanfiction vote, but i will definitely be writing for cho sang-woo as well! i hope you all enjoy reading! let me know if you have anymore requests! 🤍

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