#player is not the reader

[noonecareslol]

underrated in his OWN SHOW.

raw. next question.

[callonpeevesie]

I'm onto something I'm telling you

[saymio]

In Ho headcanons | (NSFW)

Pairing: Hwang In-ho (player 001/the front man) x Fem!reader

Genre: headcanons, smut

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

A/N: not proof read. thanos story in the works rn!! I have writers block so to help a little I'm making some hcs 4 this baddie (prob ooc)

hwang inho, the man that protected you from Thanos and his stupid friend during the first day of the games. he shoo'ed them away. stopping their harassment and took you with him with the rest of the group

hwang inho, the man that gives you his milk. reassuring you every time that its okay for you to have it, and it'll help you get stronger.

hwang inho, the man that checks up on you throughout the night. standing over you to make sure you're getting your nights rests. making sure no creeps try touching your delicate skin.

hwang inho, the man that lets touches linger a little longer than they should, whether its on your hands, thighs, waist..his touches feel more than platonic

hwang inho, the man that tells the guards to make sure you stay safe, to kill a player that hasn't broken the rules if they had to. anything to make sure you stay safe.

hwang inho, the man that would excuse himself to the bathroom just to touch himself to the thought of you. whether its your calm voice or plush hands that feel so soft and delicate...he just couldn't help it.

hwang inho, the man that squeezes your thighs when no ones looking...and when you express discomfort he used his past generosity as an excuse for it.

hwang inho, the man that will kiss you in the middle of the night with no warning. telling you to be quiet and take the kiss because if it were any other man it would've been worse.

hwang inho, the man that will find the perfect timing to sneak away from everyone else with you. he'll make you strip for him in the bathroom. savoring every inch of your body before he sends you away, leaving him in there alone to masturbate.

hwang inho, the man that wont let you sleep. he'll grope and squeeze your thighs, tits and ass. feeling you up while you hold in tears.

hwang inho, the man that reminds you this is your fault when you cry to him during a bathroom strip session. expressing how uncomfortable this makes you and how you don't want it anymore.

hwang inho, the man that will tell you nothing in the world is free. and your body will be the payment he receives for being so generous with you.

hwang inho, the man that gets hard thinking about your age gap. how youre only 19 and he's in his 40's..he loves it.

hwang inho, the man that slips his fingers inside of you when the lights are off, fingering you aggressively. reminding you once again that it'd be so much worse if he wasn't such a nice man.

hwang inho, the man that captures you during the raid against the guards. forcing you to stare into the eyes of your past friends as he kills them.

hwang inho, the man that keeps you as his pet after the games end. reminding you you're lucky because he spoils you with money.

hwang inho, the man that doesn't let you socialize with anyone after he's gotten his grip on you.

Another not: this one is pretty short compared to my last fic, this was to just try n get me out of writers block. expect a Thanos fic to pop up tmr. sorry if this sucked/was ooc, I tried my best T T~~

[greengoblinswifey]

Beneath Chaos—Hwang In ho/Player 001 x Fem!Reader

summary— amid the deadly Squid Game, you form a forbidden bond with Young-il, a married man. one night after lights out, seeking comfort, you ask him to stay by your side and things escalate.

warnings— no spoilers, age gap(reader is in her 20s, young-il is in his 40s), infidelity, oral(f!receiving), fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— for the newbies, y/n in all my stories is black but ofc, everyone can read <3 also this man has so many names, omfg.

Part II

The games had taken their toll on everyone. The latest round had been especially brutal, dead bodies across the arena, screams still ringing in your ears even after hours. Everyone was on edge, fear settling deep into their bones as they huddled in their corners of the dormitory, too paranoid to sleep.

You sat in the dim light, knees drawn up to your chest, trying to quiet your breathing. You glanced over to the group you had managed to stick with, Gi-hun, Jung Bae, Dae-ho, the rest and—Young il.

Your gaze lingered on him longer than it should have. He was older, quiet, and deliberate in his actions, his face lined with age and attractiveness. There was a steadiness to him, even in the chaos of the games, that drew you in despite your better judgment. You knew he had a wife, he had mentioned her being in the hospital when the group shared snippets of their lives. But the magnetic pull you felt toward him was undeniable.

The sleeping quarters was cold, the hum of fear in the air. You hesitated before shifting closer to him. “Young-il,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

He turned to you, his expression calm but questioning. “What is it?”

You swallowed hard, feeling foolish for even asking. “Can you—can you stay beside me tonight? I just, um, I don’t feel safe.”

He regarded you for a moment, his dark eyes scanning your face. Then, after a beat of silence, he nodded. “Alright.”

Relief washed over you as he moved closer, sitting beside you on the thin mattress. The proximity made your heart race, but you told yourself it was just the stress of the situation.

Hours passed, and the room slowly quieted as people succumbed to exhaustion. You and Young-Il lay on your sides, facing each other. The dim light cast soft shadows over his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the lines etched into his skin.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he murmured, his voice low, almost teasing.

You blinked, startled. “Like what?”

“Like I’m the answer to whatever you’re feeling right now,” he said, his tone gentle but firm.

You flushed, breaking eye contact. “I’m sorry. I know you’re married. I shouldn’t—”

“Shh,” he said softly, his hand brushing against yours. “Let’s just forget everything for a moment.”

Your breath hitched as he moved closer, his face inches from yours. His lips brushed yours, hesitating at first, testing the waters. The kiss was soft, but the weight of everything unsaid between you made it feel electric.

You pulled back suddenly, guilt flooding you. “I can’t. This isn’t right. You have a wife—”

“Don’t think about that right now,” he interrupted, his voice a low murmur. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Just stay with me.”

His lips captured yours again, this time more insistent. The kiss deepened, a hunger building between you as the world outside faded away. His hands roamed down your body and you couldn’t stop yourself from melting into his touch.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of warmth. Your breath came in shallow gasps as he moved lower, his hands gripping your hips firmly. When he reached the waistband of your sweatpants, he paused, looking up at you for permission.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with both desire and restraint.

You nodded, unable to form words, your heart pounding in your chest.

With deliberate care, he tugged down your sweats and underwear, his lips pressing gentle kisses along your thighs as he did. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice filled with awe.

With his eyes locked on yours, his head lowered between your legs. His lips captured your bundle of nerves, sucking softly as a soft gasp left your lips. You pressed them together, not wanting to wake anyone to see what was taking place. His tongue flicked your clit sending more pleasure than you had ever felt throughout your body, making you shiver.

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmured between your legs.

You nodded frantically, fingers lacing in his silky hair as he continued feasting on your pussy. His tongue glided from your hole back up to your clit then down again. He circled your hole, letting his tongue slip inside as he collected your juices on his tongue. Your free hand clamped over your mouth, desperately trying to keep quiet as he slipped a finger inside your pussy.

Your back arched from the bed as his skilled finger curled and his tongue sucked on your clit with ferocity.

“You’re doing so well, cum for me, cum on my tongue and my fingers,” he whispered.

Your fingers curled into the thin blanket beneath you as he continued, each flick of his tongue and thrust of his finger sending shivers down your spine. His movements became overwhelming and you pressed your lips together tightly as an intense orgasm washed over you making your back arch from the small bed.

“That’s it, good girl, I’m so proud of you,” he whispered.

In that moment, the fear and chaos of the games melted away, leaving you wanting more. You trembled beneath him, breathless and aching, your skin tingling from the intensity of his tongue. “Young-il,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the dormitory. “I need more. Please.”

He stilled, his dark eyes meeting yours, searching for something. “Are you sure?” he murmured.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes,” you whispered, your lips brushing his ear as your fingers gripped his shoulders.

His lips curved into a soft smirk, his hands sliding up your sides. “Then beg for it,” he said, his voice low and commanding, with dominance you hadn’t expected.

Your cheeks burned, but the desperation in your chest won out. “Please,” you murmured, your voice soft but trembling with need. “Please, Young-il, I need you. I need you to fuck me.”

“As you wish,” he interrupted. He shifted to sit back on his knees, his hands deftly tugging his sweats and boxers down. He watched your reaction as he freed his hard cock, his gaze heavy.

“Look at you,” he murmured, one hand stroking over your hip as his other lined himself up at your leaking entrance. “So perfect, so beautiful. I don’t deserve this, but, God, I’m going to make you feel so good.”

You gasped as he pressed his cock into you slowly, his whispered praises filling the space between you. “That’s it,” he encouraged, his hand braced beside your head. “You’re doing so well. So tight, so perfect for me.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he began to move, his thrusts measured and deliberate. The quiet around you made every sound amplified, the soft rustle of sheets, skin slapping, the hitch in your breath, and his murmured words of adoration. “Cum for me,” he whispered into your ear, his voice cracking with need. ���Do it, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

You cried out softly, your hands clutching him as you surrendered, your body shuddering against his as your pussy gushed on his raw cock. He held you through it, his touch firm and grounding.

Moments later, he shifted, his body warm and solid beside you. “I’m not done with you,” he murmured, lifting your leg over his hip as he slid into your throbbing cunt.

The angle made you gasp, your hand flying to his arm as he held you close. “You’re f-fucking me so good,” you managed, your voice breathless.

“Shh,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Stay with me. Feel everything, just like this. You’re perfect, you hear me? Perfect.”

Your breaths mingled as he began pounding into you harder and the rhythm grew more intense, both of you trying to hold back the sounds that threatened to escape. His lips pressed against your ear. “Cum with me,” he urged, his voice a broken whisper. “Cum on my cock as I cum inside you, sweetheart.”

You clung to him as your orgasm took ahold of you once more, the world fading away as waves of warmth washed over you. His grip tightened, and his soft groan against your skin coupled with the feeling of his cum filling your pussy were the only confirmation you needed that he’d joined you.

When the high ended, he rolled onto his back, pulling you against his chest. His lips pressed gentle kisses along your hairline, your forehead, your cheeks. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he murmured, his voice soft and tender. “You’re going to get out of here. I promise.”

You nestled against him, his arms wrapped securely around you, the fear and chaos of the games momentarily forgotten.

[tempobaekh]

i need this man in ways that is concerning to feminism SOMEONE PLEASE WRITE FOR HIM IM WAITING PATIENTLY😭😭

[miihho]

Can you please write type of guy headcanons for dae ho and gi hun 🥺? Thank you ❤️

THE KIND OF GUY

(squid game edition boys) nsfw

Dae ho / Player 388

— DAE HO IS THE KIND OF GUY who radiates warmth and loyalty, like a golden retriever. When Dae ho saw you effortlessly take down the two bullies harassing someone else, his eyes gleamed with admiration, captivated by your strength and resolve. As the crowd erupted in applause, he couldn’t help but feel an even deeper respect for you. In that moment, you earned not only their admiration but his as well. (His crush on you was developing gradually.)

—He's the kind of guy who blushes whenever you're near, his nerves getting the best of him as he stammers while talking to you, laughing awkwardly. It's all because you're so sweet to him—and to everyone else, too! He can't help but adore that about you.

—He’s the kind of guy who genuinely wants to get to know you better, not just the surface-level details, but the little things that make you who you are. He asks questions with true curiosity, listens intently, and cherishes every story you share. To him, understanding you isn’t just about filling in gaps—it’s about building a connection that goes beyond the ordinary.

—He’s the kind of guy who secretly gives you his food. One day, after returning from your bed, you noticed some milk on it. Curiosity piqued, you wondered who could have left it there, but hey, free milk, right? So you drank it. If he saw you enjoying it, he'd be totally happy inside, his heart warming at the thought of you drinking it. But if you didn’t, and instead gave it to someone else, he'd feel a little sad, pouting as he quietly watched from afar.

— He’s the type of guy who daydreams about you even in his sleep, a soft smile playing on his lips as he imagines taking you out on a date, giving you flowers, and writing you heartfelt letters. He’s kind and sweet, but also shy around you.

— He’s the type of guy who supports you wholeheartedly, cheering you on through every victory. He wishes and prays that you’ll make it through the next game, and when you do, his heart swells with happiness. He desperately wants to run up to you, hug you tightly, and lift you off the ground, spinning you in the air while admiring you. But his nerves hold him back. Instead, he smiles shyly from a distance, watching as others celebrate your success, his joy quietly battling with his anxiety as he longs to be the one to congratulate you.

—He’s the kind of guy who admires you from afar, his heart skipping a beat every time you smile. When you're talking with your teammates, he can't help but stare at you lovingly, a soft smile creeping onto his face. But when Jung Bae notices his smile and asks about it, he panics, nervously brushing it off as nothing. If Jung Bae catches on to who he's looking at, he’d tease him, leaving him blushing and flustered, unable to hide his feelings.

— He’s also the kind of guy who would protect you no matter the cost. One night, when it was time to sleep, he stayed watch over you, ensuring your safety. In the process, he nearly put himself in danger, but managed to take care of the threat. Just as he thought it was over, he noticed someone about to ambush you from behind. Without hesitation, he shouted your name.

“Y/n!” he called out, grabbing your attention. As you turned to face him, he ran toward you, tackling you to the ground just in time to shield you from a knife aimed at your back. He placed a protective hand on your head, his heart pounding in his chest.

After dealing with the person who tried to harm you, he was consumed with worry, his concern for you evident in every glance. His hands trembled as he checked for any injuries, his eyes scanning your body for bruises. When he finally saw you were okay, relief washed over him, and he couldn’t help but smile, saying softly, “I’m glad you’re alright, Y/n.”

— He’s the kind of guy who, when you're speaking to him, finds it hard to hear anything at all. You're simply glowing, and he's so completely lost in admiration for you, smiling without even realizing it. When a strand of your hair falls across your face, he can't help but gently tuck it behind your ear. The moment you look up at him, his heart skips a beat, and he suddenly becomes acutely aware of what he’s done. Flustered, he starts to stutter out a flurry of excuses, his nervousness betraying him. But all you do is laugh softly, calling him "cute." That single, simple word sends his heart into a frantic race, leaving him breathless and unable to shake the warmth spreading through him.

—He’s the kind of guy who would go to any length to protect you, even if it means hurting the people who’ve hurt you. He’ll keep going until his fists bleed, unable to stop because his care for you runs so deep. He doesn’t want to see you in pain, and his love for you pushes him to act without thinking of the consequences. Even when you beg him to stop, he’s torn, unable to hold back the intensity of his emotions. But deep down, you know that right? That he just cares for you more than anything.

—He’s the kind of guy who’ll do whatever it takes to cheer you up when you’re feeling down. When you're crying, he'll be right there, comforting you with soft, reassuring words like, "I’ll be here for you," and "It’s okay, everything’s going to be alright." He’ll pull you into his arms, wrapping you in a warm embrace, rubbing your back gently as he holds you close, offering a quiet strength that makes you feel safe. His presence is enough to ease the weight on your heart, as he promises to always be there for you, no matter what.

—He’s the kind of guy who, when in love, will sneakily try to get closer to you, even if it means "accidentally" bumping into people in the crowd. Just being near you makes him happy, and the slightest touch from you sends a thrill through him. If your eyes meet by accident, he’ll hold your gaze for a second, but then quickly look away, his face turning bright red with embarrassment. When he tries to glance at you again and you catch him, his heart races uncontrollably. He’s sure he even heard you chuckle, and in that moment, he can’t handle it anymore—embarrassed and flustered, he tries to hide in the shadows, wishing he could escape how you make him feel. (You have no idea how much you’re making him nervous.)

—He’s the kind of guy who would shower your face with kisses, making you giggle and laugh, completely captivated by the joy he brings. He’s also the type who’s hopeless at flirting, but he still gives it a shot, despite knowing he’s not great at it. When he catches you staring into his eyes, his confidence crumbles, and he can’t find his words, stammering as his mind goes blank. And when you laugh, a soft, teasing chuckle, it only makes him more flustered, his heart racing as he awkwardly tries to recover, unable to stop the warmth spreading across his face. (ARGEUWHRAHHH)

— When he's in a relationship with you, he's the kind of guy who'll ask for a good luck kiss before every game you play together.

—He’s the kind of guy you’ll wake up to, his comforting voice gently pulling you from your sleep. “Good morning, baby,” he’ll say, his smile already softening his features. “Morning, sunshine,” or “Good morning, sweetheart, did you sleep well?” he’ll ask, his voice warm and full of affection as he watches you slowly wake up.

—He’s the kind of guy who would tenderly kiss the places you’re most insecure about, as if to remind you of how beautiful you truly are. He’s the one who won’t stop kissing you, pulling you back every time you try to pull away, as if he can’t let go of the warmth you bring.

—He’s also the kind of guy who craves you in the purest, most innocent ways. He craves the chance to say goodnight and press a soft kiss to your forehead, to tell you how much he adores you, especially when you feel at your lowest. He doesn’t need anything more or less—just being near you, sharing quiet moments together, is all he could ever want.

—He’s the kind of guy who kisses you slowly, with so much passion that it feels like time itself has paused. To him, every moment matters, and he wants to make it last—pressing his lips softly against yours, savoring the closeness. His eyes remain closed, his hands resting firmly on your waist as he pulls you closer, as if he can’t bear to let go. When he finally pulls away, his gaze locks with yours, filled with love so deep it leaves you breathless. And just when you think it’s over, he leans in to kiss you again.

—He’s the kind of guy who would stay outside your house all night the moment you mentioned your parents weren’t home. You said it in a teasing, seductive tone, hoping he’d catch the hint—but instead, his protective instincts took over completely. Without a second thought, he made it his mission to ensure your safety. The cool breeze and late hours didn’t faze him; his only focus was making sure nothing could harm you.

—He’s the kind of guy who values your comfort above all else, always asking for your consent to ensure you’re at ease. When you overstimulate him, soft whines and gasps escape his lips, his breathing uneven as he tries to handle the intensity. He’s incredibly careful, his fear of hurting you evident in the way he constantly checks in, asking if you’re okay. If you show even the slightest discomfort, he immediately stops, gently comforting you with soothing words and touches. Only when you’re ready does he proceed, moving slowly and tenderly.

—He’s the kind of guy who would be endlessly obedient for you, hanging on your every word just to make you happy. When you call him a “good boy,” his cheeks flush a soft pink, and he can’t help but feel a swell of pride, as if earning your praise is the greatest accomplishment. The way he gets all shy and bashful in response only makes the moment sweeter.

—He’s also the kind of guy who whispers a breathless “please” when you tease him, his voice trembling with both desperation and longing. When you refuse to let him cum, he’ll keep pleading, his tone growing needier, begging you to finally let him release cum since you've been edging him for hours straight.

—He’s the kind of guy who moans a lot and would be needy for you. Like he's breathy and full of unrestrained moans as pleasure overwhelms him. His voice, low and husky, spills out between gasps as he murmurs how good you feel. For example.

In the cramped confines of a public bathroom stall, he tries desperately to not make a sound. His trembling hand rests on your head, fingers tangling in your hair. He was desperately trying to keep quiet, not wanting anyone outside the stall to discover what you were doing. But you decided to tease him, to push him just a little further. Holding his gaze, you slowly ran your tongue over the tip of his cock, maintaining eye contact that had him on the verge of losing all composure.

“Baby, please...” he begged, his tone barely audible but dripping with raw desperation. His hips bucked slightly, seeking more friction, his body betraying how badly he needed release.

You smirked, letting your lips hover over his slick, aching member, your warm breath teasing his already overstimulated skin. “Hm? What’s that?” you teased, maintaining a deliberate slowness. “You’ll have to speak up.”

His head fell back, and a quiet whine escaped him, “I can’t—please, I need it so bad baby, please let me cum... Want you. I want you so bad.” he whimpered, the faint sound of his soft, needy whines filled the stall, his breathing uneven and ragged as he clung to what little composure he had left. His head tilted back against the wall, his lips parted, and his cheeks flushed as he whimpered softly.

His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, his flushed face and sweat-dampened skin making him look utterly undone. The way he squirmed and whimpered under your control had you tempted to keep teasing him, but his broken whispers and the raw adoration in his eyes made you relent.

"hng...—oh fuck," he gasped, his breath uneven as you gave in at last. "Your mouth feels so good baby, so damn perfect, fuck keep going just like that baby." His praise spilled out uncontrollably, barely coherent as you pushed him closer and closer to the edge.

—Hes also the kind of guy who cries during sex. (Something about men crying is just hgnngjdhe)

“Baby, please stop..” he whimpered, his voice trembling with the weight of his plea. “It’s too much… please, it’s too much.” His hands weakly gripped your waist, trying to stop you, but his body trembled with each movement, and yet there was no escape from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Aww, sweetie,” you cooed, not slowing down. “Just one more round, mkay? I know You can handle it for me."

“N-no, please… it’s too much… I don’t think I can…take it,” he said, his tear-filled eyes locking with yours, his flushed face streaked with the weight of his emotions. The sight of him so vulnerable made your heart ache, and without hesitation, you gently wiped away the tears rolling down his cheeks with the pad of your thumb.

“Aww, don’t cry my love,” you whispered softly, your voice tender as you leaned in, brushing your lips against his forehead. “You’re my good boy, right? You’re doing so well for me. Just a little more, baby.”

“Fine… just one more.” he said, his voice soft and shaky. The way he melted under your touch, still willing to give more despite how overwhelmed he felt. (You made him cum multiple times 🫶🏻)

I decided to do dae ho first cuz he cute(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) HAPPY NEW YEAR

[cosmictheo]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 | kang dae-ho

—summary: a sudden closeness of you and player 333 makes dae-ho's usually sweet mood swing in the opposite way, triggered by pure jealousy. why would you ever need anyone else when you've got him right there? —pairing: kang dae-ho/player 388 x female!reader —word count: 4.5k —contains: +18, smut !!! (minors dni), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, descriptions of the reader having female genitalia, some porn with some plot, really passionate sex, voyeurism, public sex, sub dae-ho!!! (canon), slight praise kink if you squint, he talks to you through it, jealous and possessive behavior, fluff, dae-ho being so in love with the reader.

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

Kang Dae-ho had been protecting you ever since he had helped you survive Green Light, Red Light, the first game of all this hell in disguise as a promising new opportunity.

Not knowing you from absolutely nothing, he stepped right in front of you, stretching a hand out to the back to hold yours and guide you across the arena, playing human shield until together, you had crossed the finish line. 

And that basically summed up the kind of person Dae-ho is; kind-hearted, courageous, selfless, caring. He was one of the best people you had ever met and he was making this whole calvary into something much better, something brighter, something to keep fighting for until you made it out of there.

Since that, he had stuck by your side, practically standing as your own shadow, constantly putting you first, looking out for your well-being and safety. Without him, you would probably be dead by now, devoid of purpose.

The other players had already gotten used to seeing the two of you together, always watching each other's backs and fooling around and strategizing. Through thick and thin, you were together.

It was only a matter of time —hours—; before something else began to spark between the two of you, growing every time your hands brushed, or when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders or when your bodies cocooned in each other's warmth at night when you slept. A tension was just starting to build, an emotion that for some reason, would always make Dae-ho nervous and flustered, whenever you'd smile at him or clasp his bicep to be by his side every time Gi-hun related a story from his past experience at the games, or when you'd lean your head on his shoulder or when you'd hug each other every time a game ended.

Whatever it was, out of the same feeling, Dae-ho sensed a heaviness in the pit of his stomach, feeling as if his guts were constricting like a viper, every time you chatted with the 333 player.

He looks at you from the distance, frowning slightly as you laugh at something the guy says, he doesn't even know why he dislikes him so much... he just does.

“Why are you all puckered up?” Jung-bae questions him, pausing his own story to express concern for his teammate's face, following his gaze until he finds you, naturally.

Dae-ho clicks his tongue, shaking his head gently, his tone of voice fluctuating between disbelief and annoyance, "Why is she even over there? It's dangerous"

“Dangerous? Buddy, she's just talking to him. He saved her in the last game, remember?” Jung-bae answers him, confused by the uncharacteristic grumpy attitude of the younger man, used to the sight of him being so cheerful and jovial and optimistic.

“If it weren't for him, she wouldn't be here,” Young-il adds, also glancing at how you whisper with player 333, “She's just being polite.”

But Dae-ho huffs humorlessly, forcing his eyes to drag from you to Jung-bae standing in front of him, his fingers still grasping his fork tightly, not really feeling like eating lunch today, “Bullshit, I would've saved her anyway. She didn't need him.”

Gi-hun rolls his eyes, sitting by his side as he quietly observes the whole scene, chewing a mouthful of rice, “You're just jealous, man, admit it,” he pronounces with his mouth half full, eyes attentively scanning Dae-ho's reaction.

The whole group of men laugh upon seeing Dae-ho's face morph to one of embarrassment and some offense, cheeks blushing furiously at Gi-hun's fake allegation.

“I'm n-not jealous” he tries to defend himself with a stuttering voice, looking frantically around the amused faces of the men around him, his fingers letting his fork drop by his twitching and nervous state, attracting the attention of a few players who were nearby, including yours, which only makes Dae-ho to blush even redder.

Jung-bae smiles playfully, picking up the fork that had fallen to the ground, “And you're being overdramatic.”

“I am not!” Dae-ho squeals, his brow furrowing as he stands up and yanks the fork out of Jung-bae's hand. As the whole group laughs at him, his eyes again search for you in the crowd, finding you in record time, and his whole face darkens again as he notices the way your hand is resting down the player 333's forearm, like you would usually do with him.

He sighs heavily and for the first time, he seriously considers the words of the older men.

Time passes unnoticed within that place, hours perhaps, days? No one really knows.

But the warning that the lights go out in thirty minutes usually means that you should lie down and rest for the next event that the monsters who created this have planned for you all.

The first thing you notice when you arrive at the bed you share with Dae-ho, is that he is lying on his side with his back to you, which concerns you a little, since he never had his back to you when he would sleep.

Something is off.

“Dae-ho?” you call out his name in a gentle whisper, sitting down on the bunk and looking across the broadness of his back with worried eyes, “Are you okay?”

No response.

“Hey,” you try again gently, thinking that maybe he's not exactly having a good day, considering the current situation you're stuck in.

Dae-ho is feeling his chest heaving as he senses your hand laying on his shoulder, fingers delicately squeezing his flesh beneath the tracksuit jacket. 

And suddenly, he's cracking up.

“I'm trying to sleep” and yet, he replies to you curtly, without showing even the slightest sign of rolling over and wanting to actually look at you.

You admire his back with unconvinced eyes for a moment, lying down on the bed and resting your head on the pillow, your hand moving from his shoulder, down his back, across his shoulder blades, before dropping to the surface of the bed.

“You sound off.”

Dae-ho considers his options; whether to just keep talking to you in that oh-so-ungentlemanly way —which made him physically cringe—; whether to express everything he was feeling or just stay quiet and pretend to sleep.

In any case, he acts on impulse, rolling over so he can finally look at you, his eyes softening the instant they meet yours, his heart beating hard and fast, pounding in his ears.

“It's not good for you to associate with players outside our group,” he suddenly blurts out and sees how you just stare at him with further confusion washing over your pretty face, “It could be dangerous.”

“What do you mean?” you inquire, silently urging him to elaborate on his point. You are quick to notice how deadly serious his face is, his lips lightly pursed and his eyes solemn, a look that is unusual on him. You don't like to see him like that, like everyone there usually acted.

“Player 333,” he replies, jaw clenched, his eyes following you as you sat up again on the bed, looking down at him in sheer confusion, as if somehow, you aren't recognizing him, “I saw the way he was looking at you.”

He sounds... hurt? Disappointed?

“Lee Myung-gi” your face turns enlightened, finally understanding what he's referring to now.

Dae-ho deflects his gaze away from yours, slightly rolling his eyes. Whatever that idiot's name was...

“I was just talking to him. He saved me in the last game, Dae-ho,” you explain in an overly naive tone, a little smile curving the corner of your lips, “I went to thank him”

“But I am the one doing that, that's why I'm here. You didn't need him, you have me,” he retorts back to you instantly, your name being pronounced by his lips like a plea for mercy, gesturing to himself with his hand for emphasis on his words. Your brow furrows at the same time as his, your lips turning into a small pout, feeling like a scolded child, “I was going to save you anyway! You only need me, no one else...”

His voice fades the more he speaks, shaky hand brushing through his loose hair. And now you notice it, the betrayed and hurt expression on his face, his eyes hiding something more than friendliness, something much deeper and bigger.

He is jealous.

“Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?” you are questioning him, getting more comfortable on the mattress, your voice keeping low so as not to wake the others, but also firm on your side of the little argument. You had done nothing wrong, “He was just being a good companion—”

“He didn't seem to be performing the good companion role,” Dae-ho interrupts you, spitting out the words as if they were venomous, rising himself up to also sit on the bed and face you, gesticulating with his hands, his tone of voice is fueled by sarcasm and subtle irony now, “I didn't like the way he was looking at you... neither how you were touching him with your hand.”

He crosses his arms and resembles a sulky kid who's had his favorite toy taken away, but you're too pissed off to pause and laugh at him.

Instead, you roll your eyes, starting to unbutton your jacket, feeling too hot all of a sudden, Dae-ho's eyes follow your fingers as they pull down the zipper, “You're being overdramatic.”

"I'm not!" he gasps-whispers, expression offended, he genuinely does seem to be feeling betrayed by what you had done. He leans close to you, so close that you feel the natural warmth of his body, but you stand your ground, looking at him with baffled eyes, his gaze remains soft yet aching, “I'm just looking out for you.”

“You'd rather I touch your arm then?” you raise an eyebrow on your forehead, dropping the jacket by the bottom of the bed, holding his gaze, “Is that what this is all about?”

The effect of your words in instantaneous on Dae-ho, blushing and causing him to pull away from you rather abruptly, brushing his hand through his hair again like a maniac.

“Yes,” he replies with certainty, the word barging into his throat before he could even think of a reasonable response, so he shakes his head slightly, “I mean no— I mean yes—” he cuts himself off, flustered by your attentive gaze, “—that's not the point! The point is that you don't need to go to anyone else when you have me right here.”

He gulps hard, eagerly waiting for your reaction through desperate, sheepish eyes.

“I know,” you whisper, letting out a soft sigh from your mouth, switching to a more empathetic postur. Then you nod your head and stretch out a hand towards him, who wastes no second in reaching out to take it and pull it close to his chest, nuzzling your knuckles with his thumb, “But he just dragged me with him, I couldn't do much,” you offer him a small apologetic smile, “I know you would have saved me anyway, Dae-ho.”

“Of course,” he murmurs your name, bringing your hand to his mouth to press his lips onto your knucles, kissing your smooth skin, “You're not alone, you're with me. You are everything...”

Without saying anything, you move closer to him and hug him. Dae-ho is more than happy to reciprocate your embrace, wrapping his beefy arms around your waist and hiding his face in your neck, breathing in your sweet and comforting scent, the scent he so adores. You feel his warm breath against the sensitive skin of your neck and a shiver runs through you from head to toe.

One of your hands goes up to his head, caressing his hair, fingers sinking into his dark long locks, the soothing and so intimate touch making him sigh.

“You're jealous,” you murmur after a moment of comfortable, heart-warming silence, and he stiffens, his body freezing, you can feel the way his muscles tense against yours.

Dae-ho pulls away from you just a little, far enough to be able to look at you, offering you a sheepish little smile, his cheeks blushing from all the attention and touch and closeness, the way you're talking and looking at him has him breathless.

“Maybe a little,” his expression shifts to one of shame as he dares to confess, valiantly enough to hold your gaze, letting himself fall into the gentleness of your eyes, always so lively and playful, but as beautiful and sparkling as a pair of gemstones, with your long lashes brushing your cheekbones every time you blink.

His hands gently squeeze your waist, contouring your curves and fitting into them perfectly, as if crafted for him to touch and hold.

“You don't have to be jealous, sweets,” you assure him, like a promise, a complicity, leaning into him again.

Dae-ho swallows loudly, squeezing his eyes shut as he feels your beautiful soft lips press down onto his throat, kissing his bouncing Adam's apple. He can feel himself in heaven, letting himself be swept up by the way you are treating him, the way your hands run down his body, passing down his chest until they stop at his midsection, just at the moment your tongue traces across his skin, making him hiss, feeling all the air being knocked out of his lungs.

“Fuck— ngh,” he whimpers, his whole body aching with heat, his heart pumping hot blood into his crotch, heartbeats matching up with each of your wet kisses on his neck.

His big hands wander over your waist, lightly caressing your lower back, fingers barely grazing the curve of your ass above the fabric of your tracksuit pants, clasping the flesh, pressing you helplessly against his body. His touch is needy, but nonetheless respectful, as gentlemanly as ever.

“Is this okay?” comically enough he's the one to ask as your mouth reaches his chin by a wet trail of soft kisses through his skin and he almost feels himself cumming into his boxers by the way you open your eyes to look up at him, pupils dilated in pleasure.

You sigh out a soft chuckle and your breath crashes against his half-open lips, needily breathing in your air, breathing you in. Your fingers fiddle with the edge of his jacket.

“You want this?”

It's stupid that you even had the mere thought of that question.

“Yes, please, baby— please,” Dae-ho rushes to answer, hands squeezing everything they could grab from you, desperately, “Can I kiss yo—”

Before he managed to formulate the question your lips are on his and from one second to the next he pulls you close to sit on his lap, making you feel his erection press against the underside of your thigh.

Frantically, between kisses, tongues recognizing each other and hands grasping what they can of the other, he helps you to remove his shirt, breaking away for just a moment to pull it over his head, looking at you with eyes darkened with desire.

He groans against your mouth as you kiss again, your teeth nibbling gently on his bottom lip.

“Shh...” you coo against his lips, pushing him down to make his back lay against the bed, “You don't want the others to hear, do you?”

A playful smile stretches at the corner of his lips, squeezing your butt once you leaned over him to begin kissing his chest, his eyes rolling back in pleasure, feeling the way your back arches.

“I wouldn't mind if 333 listens—”

“Dae-ho,” you name him disapprovingly, but your eyes are heavy with playfulness and longing.

He gazes adoringly up as you take off your shirt, eyes roaming down your neck, across your chest, down your stomach.

“You're so pretty, fuck— come here,” he tugs you closer to him to kiss you one more time, his hands detaching from your hips to lift his own, pulling down his pants and his now, wrecked boxers, clumsily sliding the waistband of the cloth down his thighs.

His dick springs free and it has you open-mouthed, staring down at it with eyes of raw longing and adoration. His mushroom-shaped, leaking, needy head bumps barely against his lower abdomen, lining up with his happy trail.

Dae-ho blushes under your gaze, one of his hands caresses your hip to attract your attention back to his face.

“Can you handle it, baby?” his tone of voice lowers sheepishly.

Your cunt pulsates around nothing from his words only and in less than ten seconds, you're stripping off your pants too, pulling your soaking wet panties aside. He can actually feel how wet you are when your pussy barely brushes against his bare crotch, he has to resist to keep from cumming right there.

“I can— fuck, yeah— I can handle it,” you babble tremblingly through gentle gasps as he reaches his cock, stroking it three times before he aligns it with your inviting hole, rubbing it slowly up and down your slit to scoop up all of your wetness, and use it as a natural lube.

Dae-ho bites down on his lower lip to muffle a moan that ascends his throat, feeling the head of his cock push up into the tight entrance of your pussy, plunging between your slick folds.

He leans his forehead flat against your chest, nestling right between your breasts, his whole body trembling from a riot of pleasure, muffling his moans and noises against your skin.

“Shit, y-you're— h-hah— you're so wet,” he raspes out into your bare skin, his lips slurring insults and name-calling you like a prayer, a poem through your sweaty skin, his tongue rolls out from between his parted lips, coating your skin with his drool. 

His hands are roaming over your hips, each digit digging into the fat of your ass, never applying weight, giving you all the time you needed to settle onto his size, yet his voice was desperate and eager with anticipation, “So tight— so pretty.”

Your lips are pressed against the crown of his head, breathing shakily as you begin to lower yourself into him achingly slow, drawing a gasp from both of you. Your palms squeeze his broad shoulders, suppressing the urge to cry out with every inch he is pushing his way inside you, your pussy fluttering and squishing him deeper.

“Yeah, just like that, that's it,” Dae-ho is praising you, pressing sloppy kisses all over your tits, fingers caressing your lower back while his other hand pats your ass appraisingly, “just a little more, baby, a little m-more and I'm all yours— I'm yours.”

His words really touch your very core, hand sliding up his neck to sink into his hair and pull it, making him hiss as he licks your nipple. Your pussy swallows another inch of him and you feel him in your fucking guts by now. He feels your squishy walls clench around him like a vice and he refuses to even think about the possibility of a life without feeling like this again.

“Dae-ho,” you whimper his name as the bulging tip of his cock reaches a particular spongy spot and instantly your whole body reacts as well.

“Mh-hm,” his lips lick and kiss your collarbone all the way up your neck and then he kisses your lips, “I'm here. I got you, I always got you,” his eyes finally lock with yours again and you nearly feel every single muscle and organ in your abdomen twitch when you notice tears being held back in them, all from the flood of pleasure and bliss your body is giving him.

He can feel himself in heaven, beneath you, his hips grinding up into yours as his cock is plunged so deep inside you.

Dae-ho kisses you again, intoxicated, a thread of spit remains connecting your mouths once you part.

A few more long seconds and you're all the way down sitting on him, his heavy, throbbing balls pressed flush against your ass. Your pussy envelops him thoroughly, molding into his shape as you breathe a deep sigh and Dae-ho breathes out as well when your nails dig into his shoulder blades.

“There you are, my baby, you're doing s-so good,” he croaks, fondling your backside affectionately, feeling your dampness dripping down his thighs, “Holy shit you feel good... I'm so deep—”

And when you start to move on top of him, he has to close his eyes, his sweaty palms pawing your ass, hopeless for your mercy. 

But you have no mercy, your pussy, your thighs, your fucking hips, the way you look down at him and ride him, giving him whiplash with every bounce. And he can swear he knows you from another life, from the way his cock forms a shape inside you, reaching parts within you that no one else has been capable of reaching before, as if your body was made for him— no, as if he was made to fit your body.

“My God—” he hiccups and you press your forehead against his, seeking his lips with yours to silence you both, pushing him down until he's lying flat on the mattress.

The bunk just barely creaks beneath the relentless sway of your hips slamming into his, ass bumping hard down on his thighs, taking him all the way down and up again, so deep that every time you bottom out you feel him in your fucking throat.

“You feel so good, baby,” you whine, looking down at him and all of his body is reacting to the petname.

You take in the gorgeous sight that is his face flushed with utter pleasure, eyes squinting, sweaty arms wrapping all around you and holding you impossibly close, his lower belly tensed and cramped.

He looks so pussy drunk, drinking and drinking in your body and essence, everything you provide. The tought makes you feel your insides flip, squeezing into a knot. And Dae-ho feels it too.

You bend down, lips falling onto his shoulder, trailing down to the tattoo on his side and when your tongue traces the black ink, exactly when his engorged tip brushes against your fucking cervix and your ass does a particularly powerful bounce on his thick thighs, he starts to feel his body twitching, reaching that exquisite release. He begins to cum, wracked by a rush of erotic bliss that has him seeing stars in the pitch-black.

His hips begin to meet yours in mid-between your wild bouncing and your pussy squelches around his cock, ready to take in all he has to give.

“I'm cumming— hah— b-baby, where—” he babbles through breathy hiccups and whimpers, his body is flushing, seeking your gaze with half-closed eyes, his chest gasping fast.

You kiss his tattoo one more time before answering him, having the nerve to smirk, as if you aren't jumping his bones, “Inside— mhm— fill me up, Dae-ho,” your eyes finally meet his and you squish his biceps, “please,” you beg him, with tears on your eyes.

“Holy shit— you don't have to convince me, love” he growls out hoarsely, and you have never hear him insult so much in such a short span of time. He kiss the corner of your lips messily, “I'm so fucking deep, you take it so well, baby— fuck.”

He chokes on his own voice and squeezes your hips until his palms are molded into your flesh. His tip touches that special squishy spot inside you again and you're cumming with him, both of you riding your own high, sinking into each other's bodies, souls becoming one. Straight into the core of the storm of pleasure.

His trembling fingers eventually loosen his grip on your ass, but his imprint stays right there, flushed. His cock softens deep inside you and you can feel it still spurting hot ropes up into your womb. Dae-ho whimpers flush against your mouth, gasping for breath. And you know you might as well die right there, tangled with his body.

Your head is empty, blurry with him and only him, your hips keep rolling on their own motion, slower. Your pussy squelches, full of him, the friction only makes him chant your name over and over in raspy whispers, like a hymn. Your orgasm is rough and strong, rocking your body like an earthquake. It makes you moan his name and he cuts you off, kissing you senselessly.

“Thank you, thank you...” he mumbles repeatedly against your mouth, hissing once you stop all movement on top of him. And he kisses you again, appreciatively, lovingly.

Dae-ho throws his head back on the bunk, trying to catch his breath, his hands drop to your thighs, always with a possessive hold, groping around for your ass, pressed down on his trembling thighs.

And it's ridiculous how absolutely majestic he looks there under you, in an afterglow that has him breathless, eyes narrowed and lost stare, gazing upwards as if he's suspended in paradise. His entire abdomen is sweaty and you hold back the urge to run your tongue across his cute little tummy, since your body is slowly beginning to give in to exhaustion, your legs wobbling.

You are satisfied with tracing your fingers along his sweaty skin, touching what were strong muscles, now softened under your thumbprints. Your hand makes an appreciative path up his pecs and he comes back to reality with the touch, looking up at you and patting your ass lightly, his gaze softening as he met your eyes amidst the darkness. The look of love.

“Don't do that, I'm about to get hard again,” he murmurs in a playful voice, a little sheepish smile growing on his lips. He is blushing, like he's not balls deep inside you, his cum leaking out of your cunt and trickling down your thighs.

You let out a sleepy chuckle, leaning down and snuggling close into his chest, his arms wrap around your shoulders and he tugs a blanket over the two of you.

“I had to take you on a date first,” Dae-ho blurts out suddenly, sounding more like he's talking to himself than to you, but you do manage to hear him, yet not really understanding what he's trying to say.

“What?” you ask curiously, still a little dizzy, fingers tracing light caresses on his chest, right where his heart is.

He clears his voice, bowing his chin so he can look down at you, gaze full pure love and adoration, his fingertips soothingly caressing your spine as he answers you in a hushed whisper, “I was supposed to take you on a date before.... all of this.”

You smile bashfully against his chest, looking up at him with big, soft eyes, “Well, we're not exactly in a position where having a date is doable, Dae-ho.”

But he is confident on the subject, fingers drawing little circles on the small of your back, “After we get out of this, I'll pick you up at your house and take you to the fanciest restaurant.”

You kiss him tenderly. 

And he smiles like he's actually in love.

“I'll be waiting for you in my best dress, then.”

[muntitled]

Better Than Drugs

Pairings: Namgyu x Fem!Reader | Brief!Thanos x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reconnecting with your shitty ex boyfriend in the games.

Warnings: Language, Substance Abuse, Toxic Relationship, Male Manipulation, Coercion, Smut (+18) mdni, High sex, Dub/con, Choking, Exchange of Bodily Fluids, Unprotected Sex, Unedited (we die like soldiers)

A/n: literally no one will read this but I need him and I wrote this for me!

Being treated like a lamb being led to the proverbial slaughter in a death game sucked ass but seeing your ex boyfriend there sucked even more, somehow. From your vantage point perched on your bed tucked away from all the central conflict, you notice them talking about you again.

Call it past bully traum but you knew when people were talking about you and although you couldn't make out what they were saying, a part of you just knew...

Another vote had ended and Namgyu was still staring at you, his head bowed, chewing his fingernails. He was watching you, while you were forced to watch as democracy crumbled around you.

Your brain made you think Namgyu was perhaps berating you in front of his new friend. Bad-mouthing you to absolutely no end, perhaps saying what a lousy, uptight girlfriend you had been in the outside world. How you kept him from his habit. How you tried to force him into rehab countless times.

And so you shrink into yourself, squeezing yourself further into your bed, hugging your knees.

How were you supposed to know the conversation went nothing like how you thought it was going?

"We need to get her on our team," Thanos had said when the voting concluded and they were watching you pick at your roll of tin-foiled kimbap.

"She's already on our team," Namgyu muttered, more quiet than usual as he watched you through the corner of his eye. He didn't feel like eating. He felt like doing drugs. And fucking, maybe, but eating? It never occurred to him.

Without you to remind him to eat, and to actually take care of his bodily health outside of his substance abuse, he really was a mess.

"Oh yeah," Thanos muttered dumbly before turning back to his own food, "Kay, well, I need to sleep with her."

Namgyu didn't even look up from his food, still leaning against the metal beds as he murmured a quiet, "Nope." Popping his lip, extenuating the 'p'

Thanos himself was rallied into silence as Namgyu casually clicked his tongue before adding, "I called dibs on that bro," he steals another glance. You're searching your chest for a piece of cucumber that's fallen out of the kimbap

This unfortunately, zeroes his gaze in on your ample chest, miraculously squeezed into that tracksuit jacket. Now Namgyu was thinking about your tits while Thanos' head whips to the side, his brow lifted.

Namgyu couldn't take his eyes off you since the games began. Watching you during voting time had stirred up all kinds of lost emotions. The easy and almost thoughtless way you had pressed the blue button before tucking your hands in your pockets, never sparing anyone a second glance. He had to adjust the bulge forming in his sweatpant. If it weren't for him you might have continued to go amongst the games as an anonymous spectre, with that cash prize as your only goal.

"I didn't know we were calling dibs!?" Thanos stomped his feet petulantly, "That's not fair, man. Not. Cool."

"That's the point of dibs," Namgyu said, pushing his hair behind his ears as he continued to stare you down. "Who knows how long we'll be here?" As he watched you, he tilted his head downwards, causing a thick shadow to fall over his eyes as he watched you. He leaned against the railings of the metal beds piled up to the ceiling, watching you tuck your hands deeper into the sleeves of your sweater. Really fucking cute.

"B-But Homies don't call dibs on girls!" Thanos whines.

"Yeah," Namgyu nods, "but, I'm gonna need more than magic pills and a homie to get me through the night," He made a ring with his index and thumb finger, pinching his one eye shut as he spied at you through it, "She can help,”

Thanos was quiet, eerily so. Good things never happened when Thanos was quiet,

"Let's go over to her right now then. Since she's stealing my homie-"

That immediately snapped Namgyu out of his lust-filled gaze, promoting his shoulders to straighten as he tried to stop Thanos from taking another step towards you.

"Senorita-" he said in a singsong voice and you rolled your eyes as you saw them approaching. Namgyu walked behind like the shadow he always tried to be, with his hands tucked in his pocket. Your bed is relatively low to the ground and your heart stammered when both their shadows fell over you.

"Don't have any change," your eyes whipped to your ex-boyfriend before narrowing, "Or drugs. Sorry." you mustered a painfully sarcastic smile as you attempted to turn in another direction, hoping they might take the hint.

Thanos' teeth stretched as Namgyu swallowed thickly, watching you in that distinctly predatory way of his as he propped his forearm against the railing of the bed. You hate how both of them make you feel and your eye scans in vain around the premises, hoping someone might save you from the duo.

"Lemme make this quick," Thanos said with his drug addicted hand gestures. "My bro wants you and whatever bro wants-" he taps Namgyu's chest behind you- "Bro gets."

Silence passed with you staring deep into Namgyu's dark, almost sinister black eyes. You admitted that you were still painfully attracted to him. Knowing that he knows your body. He's already seen what hid under your blue tracksuit, it was dizzyingly sobering.

He still seemed so devastatingly sleezy it bordered on attractive, like he didn't care about what anyone really thought of him. It still brought an uncomfortable amount of attraction that you didn't really know what to do with. "No thanks," you said, bending your head to take a bite of the kimbap.

"Cunt." you heard him mumble under his breath. That caused your head whip up to glare at him.

"I'm a cunt because I'd rather not fuck a drug addict?"

"No," Namgyu shrugged, "You're just a cunt."

Your nostrils flared as something diabolical ignited inside you. Up until this point, fear had been the only emotion you allowed yourself to feel. The fear of dying to keep you alive. But right now, you're being plagued with another emotion and it's setting you alight with interest.

Your dating preferences were never orthodox. You knew you could never truly be satisfied with any other timid nice guy, and that's what drew you to him. You hated admitting to it but Namgyu calling you a cunt did more than irritate you, it ignited you.

"I'm not here to make friends,” You marvel now, in the tense darkness, how confident you had been then.

“How about a boyfriend then?” Namgyu asked and Thanos whistled lowly as he mutters a ‘nice bro,’

“How about choking?” You shot back, “I tried the boyfriend thing and he stole all my savings to buy drugs.” Namgyu’s jaw ticked and you can see his fist fold and unfold. Thanos’ commentary continues. ‘Shit boyfriend-’ he says under his breath.

“Don't be a bitch so early in the morning…” Namgyu says finally before turning his head, somewhat distracted, “Or at least I think it's morning. Hyung do you think it's morning-”

Thanos raised his hands, “Morning is what we make it in here, bro.”

“Leave me alone of I'll fucking scream.” you cut through all their useless chatter, letting a tense silence settle between the three of you. Eventually, Thanos reluctantly pulls Namgyu away. Murmuring a quiet ‘just take a hint bro.'

Soon, you were left in your bed but not without one more backwards glance from Namgyu over his shoulder. He wasn't done with you and that thought sat heavily on your shoulders until the robotic voice from unseen speakers made the countdown to lights out.

The very last thing you remembered, before the overhead lights were snuffed out, was his black, almond eyes still watching you from his bed.

The blue 'O' velcroed to your breast burns a hole through your conscience as your eyes flutter open in the middle of the night, really needing to pee. The prize money acts as the only source of gold light illuminating the hall while everyone else remains soundly asleep.

Life in the games was so much more stomachable during the day, but when the lights went out, you were forced to sit with your thoughts. That piggy bank didn't have money inside it, it held bodies, and the ghosts practically filled this room.

Still, you can't help but whisper to yourself, “I really have to pee.” The only thing stopping you from going to the bathroom is the gaze you knew would somehow find you from three beds over. Your ex boyfriend watches you, even when the lights go out.

Paranoia be damned.

Cursing softly, you maneuvered yourself to the ground. Trying to make the least amount of noise possible as you moved through the row of beds.

If you were being followed you'd never know. Everything was too dark but a part of you sighed as you reached the small arched doorway completely unscathed.

Almost unscathed.

Your heart hammers in its cage when you feel his heavy arm settle over your shoulders. Your mouth falls open but Namgyu is already banging on the arched door with a closed fist. You flinch with every loud, metallic hit.

The little window opens to reveal a triangle-masked soldier. He stands there emotionless.

“My girlfriend's on her period- she's bleeding everywhere. We need the bathroom.”

There is silence from the Guard who is clearly unimpressed. Just before the little window is about to slide shut Namgyu kicks at the door, “Hey! I wanna fuck my girl- if you want, we could do it out here?!”

You try to wrench yourself out of his grip, toilet be damned but your heart absolutely sinks to find the pink soldier opening the metal door.

Namgyu only twirls, pumping his fist before pulling you in his arms, biting back a smile.

“Can't believe that worked,” Namgyu says, with a raised eyebrow and a happy little shrug as he drags you across the threshold. The trip to the women's bathroom is relatively short as you writhe and fight in his hands. There's virtually no reason for the pink guard to think any of this was consensual but they kept their stoicism on their face as you reached the girl's bathroom.

“We'll be quick,” Namgyu assures the guard with a tight sort of smile before pushing you into the bathroom, and closing the door after himself.

You trip on your way running into one of the stalls and he watches you, biting his nail.

“This is the girls bathroom, or are you too high to notice?” You hiss absolute venom as he bites his fingernail.

“Nah, I'm sober right now, which means I need something to take the load off.”

“Cool. Use your hand,” you sigh from within the stalls before dropping your pants to pee. It irked you that he was standing there, on the other side… waiting for you.

You make quick work of it all. Wiping, flushing, and making a beeline for the sinks. He lets you wash your hands but before you make it to the door his arms are wrapped around your waist.

“Uh Uh,” he tsks, “No ‘i miss you’ kiss, huh?” He drags you into his arms, kicking and screaming as he swipes your brains from across your panicked face.

“Only competent boyfriends get kisses,” Despite the fuss, the door doesn't open. Those guards have quite literally abandoned you in here to fend for yourself.

“I can make it up to you,” he said, “I miss you really bad, baby,” Namgyu's pushing your back against the sink, stained with that sickening, pastel colour as he lowers his nose into the crook of your neck. You writhe as he breathes you in deeply, before sighing. His erection pressed against your thigh.

“Someone else could walk in here,” you cry, feeling a dampness seep out of you, wetting your underwear. Your body was being traitorous because it was enjoying feeling anything other than fear. It yearned for it.

“Sto-” you attempt to catch your breath as he gropes at your breasts from over your tracksuit. “Stop touching me-” you say despite your legs getting weaker and weaker.

“You don't get to touch me anymore. You lost that privilege when you stopped being my boyfriend.” He was so much taller than you when he stretched his hand across your cheeks, forcing your neck back to make more space for his lips. A moan nearly spills out of you.

His hands are trembling and his tongue swipes out to lick the length of your neck. To your shock and horror, you melt in his grasp.

“You don't mean that-” he whispers against your skin. “No one's gonna fuck you like I do-”

“No one's going to steal my money like you do either-”

His hand flies down to your throat, choking as he says through clenched teeth, “I told you I had a problem-” he squeezes and for the briefest moment, you see stars. “I needed help and you abandoned me, you bitch-”

“I didn't abandon you-” His lips are on yours, silencing you in one messy kiss that him forcing his tongue into your mouth.

“You gonna be good for me, Huh?’ He says, hoarsely, your eyes glare up at him.

“Leave me alone-”

“You know I love it when you try to fight back,” his mouth breathes against your hair, “You trying to get me riled up babe, huh?”

His fingers find the lining of your own sweatpants and your heart stammers as he turns to push your front against the sink. Your hand grips at the cheap plaster and you avoid your own traitorous reflection in the mirror, lest you find not only fear in your eyes, but lust

“You know how bad I've needed this- fuck,” his voice cracks when fumbles his cock out, grinding against your ass with his eyes closed in ecstasy and his mouth hanging open. Your finger curls around the sink as the first moan slips out of you. It had his eyes flying open to look down at you in amusement and awe.

“I knew you weren't a completely stuck-up bitch,” he says, pulling you up by the base of the throat, “I knew you still wanted me.”

“I don't,” you squeak out as he pulls down your pants.

“No- but your body does,” he swipes your underwear to the side.

Your body spasms as he roughly sinks his digits into you once before pulling out.

“You miss me real bad,” he brings your fingers up in front of your face and your heart drops to find the arousal webbing his index and middle.

He continues to swipe your arousal from from your ass to your puffy clit and the need wracks through your entire body, building as you arched your ass backwards against him.

His mouth is by your ear, breathing heavily as he lines his cock up at your entrance, already leaking precum, “I know I gave you hell when we were out there-”

“Hell doesn't begin to cover- FUCK-” he rams his cock into you. Positively brimming with need as his hips stutter against you.

“Y-ou stole my fucking savings for drugs-” you get the sentence out quickly before moaning into the air, as your boyfriend fucks out all the frustration he's been carrying, all the need and the withdrawal.

“And I ate you out as an apology-” He reaches his hand around to clamp down on the base of your throat. Your mouth falls open when he cranes our neck back, his eyes boring into yours. “Don't you miss it baby, don't miss having me inside of you?”

“Y-Your eyes are diluted-” you begin to say, utterly incredulous. “You're high right now!”

His hips thrusts in shallow, quick strokes. “And your pussy's wet, guess we're both fucked.”

Your pussy tightens around him like a long lost friend, it knocks you out how deeply you've craved him. Needing reprieve from all the fear. “You're squeezing around my cock, you fucking slut-” that nearly has you seeing stars. Your body spasms.

“That it…” he whispers, “Don't think I haven't forgotten the way you abandoned me out there… But in here,” your eyes roll to the back of your head, “You dont so much as fucking breathe without my permission.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as his cock hits that particular pillow of nerves inside you, nearly flipping you off the edge.

“Spit on my hand,” he says, an edge to his voice that let you know he was far too close. You forgot how messy things got when you had sex with him. How much of a mess he made of you.

You do it without thinking about it and his eyes widen as he presses that same hand to your clit.

“F-Fuck!” Your eyes are squeezed shut as he reaches around to rub you to your orgasm. His movements only fumble when his hips start stuttering.

“N-Need you to cum for me-” he breathes out. “I’m jittery- baby. I need it- shit-” you slip into your orgasm right in front of him, milking his cock for all its worth. “F-Fuck this is so much better than drugs,” he murmers, eyes rolled back as a drunken smile ghosts over his face. He's in complete and utter euphoria.

Two rough knocks on the door signal the need for your return but Namgyu's cock is still spilling ropes of his cum inside you and you're doing nothing but taking it.

“I hate you,” you breathe out, because it's true. If it weren't for him you wouldn't be here.

His breath is warm against your neck as he says, “I love you too.

© to @muntitled on tumblr; do not repost

[catchastarorten]

—Sleep well.

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho x fem!reader

Summary: Gi-hun suggested that the group took turns staying on watch in case the other players attacked, him and Jung-bae stayed up while you and the others napped, Dae-ho took his place beside you to rest with you.

Content: fluff, cuddling(?), you head-butting him in your sleep lol, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not really proofread, sorry!

Word count: 808

You were tucked into the corner with your group—Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Young-il, Dae-ho, and Jun-hee. Trust was a rare thing in the games, but the six of you managed to stick together, watching each other’s backs through the brutal rounds.

The weight of exhaustion clung to you, but Gi-hun’s paranoia kept your eyes open longer than you would have liked. He wasn’t wrong, though. The fear was palpable.

Your group pulled a couple of mattresses off of the bunks, arranging them as best as possible. One was dragged and laid flat against the wall, the others shoved under bunk frames for some semblance of protection.

“Is this really necessary? I don’t like sleeping under there.” Jung-bae asked, sliding a mattress to Gi-hun, who shoved it under a bunk frame.

“Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us.” Gi-hun said, his eyes focused and his voice steady. “The prize money still goes up if we kill each other. It’s a part of the game they designed.”

You exchanged a look with Dae-ho, who sat cross-legged beside you, holding onto some blankets and pillows. He had been your shadow ever since Red light, Green light. Always sticking close, insisting on protecting you in this place after seeing the way you froze during the first game—when he told you to stay behind him closely so you could use him as a human shield.

“We need to take turns keeping watch after the lights go out.” Gi-hun muttered, sitting down at the foot of the bunk beds, his sharp eyes scanning the room. “I’ll take the first watch.”

The lights flickered out not long after, leaving the only source being the giant piggy-bank hung on the ceiling that was glowing dimly.

It was after a while when Jung-bae rolled out lazily from under a bunk and plopped down beside Gi-hun, the two of them speaking in hushed voices.

You laid down on one of the mattresses, wrapping the thin blanket around yourself. Dae-ho settled beside you not long after, and though you weren’t expecting it, his hand brushed against yours as he shifted to get comfortable, and you were sure you saw his face flush before he hid it, which barely worked, to be honest.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbled, his voice low and soothing. “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll fight them off if they try to come over here.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart ache in the best way. Dae-ho had a knack for looking out for you since you met him in the games, even in the little ways—giving you his portion of food, stepping in when someone got too close. You hadn’t known him long, but there was this easy warmth between the two of you.

Within minutes, you were sound asleep.

Dae-ho’s soft snores filled the small space you both shared. Exhaustion had gotten the better of him, just like it did to you. His arm had draped protectively over your side in his sleep, his presence a cocoon of safety.

Gi-hun and Jung-bae sat near the bunks, their attention now drawn to the sound of soft snoring. Both sets of eyes landed on you and Dae-ho, curled up together on the mattress.

“They’re out like a light,” Jung-bae remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You know, seeing them like that... it reminds me of when we went on strike. We were occupying the factory, and management told us to come out. They said anyone who came out voluntarily would be let off the hook and receive more severance pay.”

Gi-hun stared into the distance, as if recalling what happened.

“You were sleeping beside me and you were talking in your sleep. ‘Mom, I’m hungry, give me some food.’” Jung-bae made an exaggerated crying face, and Gi-hun gave him a glare as Jung-bae nudged him with his elbow, smirking.

Their voices echoed, and soon enough, soft laughs filled the quietness.

Jung-bae chuckled again, louder this time. He clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The noise had reached you, and you stirred slightly. Dae-ho, still asleep, curled closer to you instinctively, his arm tightening around your side. His movement caused your head to shift slightly, and without warning, you head-butted him in your half-asleep state of grogginess.

Dae-ho furrowed his brows, a soft noise escaping his lips as he shifted again, burying his face into the crook of his arm. You tugged the blanket over your shoulders, muttering something incoherent before nestling deeper into the mattress, falling right back asleep.

Jung-bae stifled another laugh, his shoulders shaking with the effort. Gi-hun gave him a glare, but a faint smile was already tugging at the corners of his mouth too.

“They’re like kids,” Jung-bae whispered, his tone fond.

“Let them sleep. They’ll need it.” Gi-hun shook his head and sighed softly.

[murderofravens]

DUSK TILL DAWN

pairing: hwang inho/young-il/frontman x fem reader.

part: 1/3 [finished]

warnings: age gap (reader is 20, inho is in his late 40s) slowburn. oral fixation. thigh riding. plot with porn. yearning. sexual tension. canon compliant. slight infantilization. no y/n used.

summary: he promised that you will make it out alive. he will make sure of it, no matter what it takes.

word count: 6.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

please ignore any mistakes.

as you wipe the blood from your face, the reality of your situation sets in. you never thought you'd get used to the smell of blood— much less the sight of it. or the texture. and now you're covered in it. the white of your uniform splattered with crimson, the metallic smell of it almost overwhelming. in a situation like the one you're in, you can only laugh. the mere sight of blood used to make you feel faint; make you want to throw up because you're squeamish. now you're covered in it from head to toe.

it's not yours. it's of the people they shot dead during the second game.

you barely remember how you made it out alive. the second one was all thanks to your team— thanos and nam-gyu were the closest to your age, and teaming up with them worked in your favour. your age and gender was a liability to the others, but they were kind enough to take you in. or perhaps they were thinking with their dicks. would it really matter either way?

but with the way they act, you're not sure if you want to continue being in a team with them. especially since thanos keeps trying to woo you with his poor rapping skills. they're way too loud and reckless for you, and you're scared they might get you killed. they're not willing to give up the game anytime soon, either.

then there's the first game— you're alive, because of 456. that crazy man who supposedly had played the games before. if it wasn't for him pulling you behind his back, you would've left the premises in a cardboard box. especially because you fucking sneezed as soon as the doll turned back.

since then, you've decided you don't want to play this game anymore. 456 has been desperately trying to change the other's mind— but they're greedy and insistent. you pressed the cross for his sake, and for the others, and for yourself. hell, you can live in debt, but what use is that money if you die trying? you're not that much of a hard worker. you value your life above anything else.

you walk over to their team— 456, and his two loud team members. another man is sitting there— player 001. the one who ruined your chance of going home on the first vote. he seems ordinary, but you know of him because you saw him beat the shit out of thanos. that was another reason you decided to abandon that team— you could not be seen with a bully, or a loser. as you approach him, you give him a slight nod of acknowledgement, which he returns. you turn your attention to 456, and thank him profusely for what he did for you. he's kind, you'll give him that. you like kind people.

"if you don't mind me asking—" a voice interrupts, and you look over your shoulder. it's player 001. he looks at you curiously. "how old are you?"

"old enough." you retort cheekily. he doesn't look amused as he cocks his head to the side.

"i'm curious as to why a little kid like you would compromise herself for money."

that shuts you up. you're offended, to say the least. who is he to call you a little kid? the entire team also looks on, seemingly baffled. the question makes sense. you're sure you're the youngest out of all players. and people can tell because you look it too. you don't really know how to respond, so you just look on with a frown, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"forgive me—" he lets out an awkward chuckle, "i didn't mean it the wrong way. i'm just worried."

you give him an uneasy smile, rubbing the back of your neck. the others go back to their conversations, and you shrug. he shoots a glance towards gi-hun before sitting back down and shifting slightly, as if making room for you. you take a seat beside him. there's silence before he glances at the symbol on your jacket— the cross.

"i'm sorry." he says with a small smile, looking straight ahead, "you wanted to go home but you had to continue because of me. i put a kid in danger."

"i'm not a kid," you huff softly, straightening up, "i'm twenty. but yeah, you should be sorry."

you give him a small smile to ensure he knows that the last line is lighthearted. he seems to understand and returns it.

"dont worry about it," you sigh, fiddling with the zip of your jacket, "im sure you had your reasons. just like i have mine for coming here."

"and your parents?" he asks. he's so polite, it warms your heart. polite and soft spoken. and visibly tough. probably some officer, you think, judging by his skills you previously saw.

"that's what i need the money for." you sigh, leaning back against the bunker. "i need enough money to establish myself. continue my studies. bring my mom and my sister to come live with me. settle off my father's debts because he's a coward who decided to pass down his sins onto his daughter."

he raises his eyebrows, and you take a sharp breath. there's a moment of silence between you two— you think for a moment, and feel your eyes get slightly glassy. you're not going to cry in front of a stranger. you put on a brave face. "if i die here, my mother—"

he stares at you silently, before putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, interrupting your cursed sentence. "you'll make it out alive."

the doors open, and the staff comes in again. they reveal the number of players left, showcase the money that each person would get, and then the voting starts again.

this time, player 001 doesn't disappoint you. he goes first, and clicks on the cross. the hope it gives you eventually shatters as more and more players begin to vote in favour of continuing the game. you see 456 get increasingly agitated as he begins to make his way towards the front of the crowd. before he can speak, he's interrupted.

001's voice rings out loud and authoritative, and worried. he reprimands the voters in favour, calls them out on their selfishness.

"we'll all die if we keep playing!" he chastises the crowd urgently. "you have to survive first, or there won't be a next step—"

"there's no next step for us!" he's interrupted by player 100. a stout old man who had been at odds against 456 since the start— you remember him having 10 billion won in debt. it makes you snicker. he eggs on the crowd. "with that money, we won't be able to pay our debts. we need to play one more game, then the money will increase to 240 million. with that we can pay atleast a little of our debts! isn't that right!?"

"you're going to die trying!" you snap, making your way to the front of the crowd. you glare at player 100, at all his little supporters cheering at the back. "your greed is going to get you killed. how can you be so confident to say that you'll survive the next game? what if you die?"

"you shut up, young lady!" he hisses, mouth scrunching bitterly. "is that how you speak to your elders? your brain is too small to comprehend real life problems. we can't continue with our lives with that little money!"

"continue your lives?" a laugh bubbles out of your throat. "look at that greying head of yours, you barely have a life ahead of you! why don't you let us live ours?!"

that seems to have ticked him off, because he quite literally turns red as he takes a threatening step towards you.

"what did you just say?"

"i said—" you step forward, shooting him a challenging glare, "you're too old to be playing children's games. vote wisely and let us go home."

he lets out a snarl before trying to lunge at you, but you're pulled back as player 001 steps between the two of you. like a wall. he looks at the old man, eyes cold, his voice low. "that's enough."

since the incident with thanos, nobody has really tried anything with 001. it's obvious enough they're intimidated by him, and they don't want to be on the receiving end of his wrath. 100 doesn't either, with the way he collects himself and steps back, embarrassed. you look over 001's shoulder, make eye contact with the old man and shoot him a taunting smile. you know it's childish, but you've resented him from the start.

before the old man can say anything, player 001 drags you to the side where you can't argue with people anymore. and the voting continues.

"you can't talk to people like this," he says lowly, gaze focused on the crowd. staring at something that you can't figure out. "you never know what they might do."

you huff bitterly. you know what he means.

"i don't care. i fucking hate bullies."

"potty mouth." he chastises, but theres a smirk on his face. he's teasing. you chuckle.

"remember you need to get out of here alive." he repeats, looking at you with an intensity that is almost terrifying. "you can't do that if you keep this up."

"jeez, okay dad." you joke, rolling your eyes. your words make him smile lightly.

"thanks for having my back there." you tell him sincerely. he looks at you for a bit before nodding in acknowledgement.

the voting ends, and they announce that the games will continue tomorrow. it makes your heart drop.

that night, you feel uneasy when you try to sleep. your clothes stick to your skin, and the side of your face keeps itching. with an irritated grumble, you get off the bunker and walk over to your new friend's side. you squint your eyes before looking for 001— and when you find him, you gently shake him.

"are you sleeping?" you whisper.

he opens his eyes, wincing slightly before sitting up. his voice is hushed as he responds, "not anymore. what is it?"

you bite your lower lip nervously before reluctantly asking, "will you go to the restroom with me? i'm kinda scared to go alone."

he blinks at you, confused. you continue out of sheer desperation.

"those guards just stare weirdly with their weird little masks and it makes me nervous." you hope your voice doesn't shake as you speak. "last time one of them kept knocking on the door while i was in the washroom and it just— scared the shit out of me. and my face is itching and i really need to go. please?"

he listens patiently. for a moment you think he'd decline but he just sighs and nods, and you cheer just a little as he steps out and follows you to the door. you bang on it, loudly telling the guards that you need to go. one of them opens the sliding window, and then immediately opens the door. it makes you feel strange, because usually it takes a lot more effort to convince them. either way, you're grateful.

you know your better option would've been to take one of the girls with you, but the sad fact is you haven't had the chance to get friendly with any of the female players yet. and for some reason, player 001 makes you feel a sense of safety and security that is almost strange— you feel at ease around him.

"i'll be in the men's room," he tells you, and you nod. he shoots a glance to the guard standing outside the women's restroom before walking away. you quickly go inside, and the first thing you do is splash water on your face.

you quickly clean the blood off your skin, holding back the urge to cry. you scrub at your cheeks till you're sure you can scratch the itch away for good. your nails dig a little too deep, and a little blood oozes out of the scratches on the side of your face. you clean that too, and then try to scrub the splatters of blood off your t-shirt. it's white, and you have no soap— so the stains remain. a faint reminder. you take your time, and anticipate the knocking— but it never comes.

you look in the mirror, at your tired face and sunken eyes, before giving yourself a nod and stepping out. 001 is waiting for you outside, looking to the side. he gives you an odd look as you step out, before walking alongside you.

"are you alright?" he asks gently, concerned. kind as ever.

you look at him again, give him a nod. "thank you."

when you two reach the room, he returns the smile with one of his own.

as you make your way to the bunker, he grabs your shoulder, "why don't you start sleeping on our side?" he says quietly, "join the team. there's a bed near mine. you won't feel so scared that way."

you blink, trying to see his face in the darkness. the offer is enticing— and most of all, it warms your heart.

"really?" you ask hopefully.

"really." he says kindly.

you follow him to the bunker, and he covers the railing with his hand to avoid you getting hurt as you bend down to get into the bed. he looks at the slightly wet patches on your shirt— blinks before getting a bedsheet and putting it over you. "get some sleep. we got a game to play tomorrow."

you smile softly at him. as he turns to get into his own bed, you grab his hand. it's warm against yours— big and rough. you don't allow your mind to drift that way. it's not right. he looks at you, gaze questioning.

"thanks again," you say softly, "it means a lot to me."

he leans down a little to ruffle your hair before going back to his bed and laying down. you close your eyes and drift to sleep— unaware that he stays up, thinking.

breakfast is boring— bread and milk. you sit on the bed, scowling. player 456 is surprised as he sees you there, before you two share understanding smiles. you bow a little and he bows back before going along with his friend. 001 comes to sit by you then, munching on his own breakfast.

"i miss home," you mumble, "how am i supposed to survive on just this? it's not even chocolate milk."

001 laughs, "don't worry, you can have whatever you want once you get out of here."

"will i?"

he looks at you, raising his eyebrows. you take his silence as a cue to continue, "im scared i'll die in here."

he looks down, before shifting to be closer to you. "you made it this far, didn't you?"

you look at him, voice getting shaky. "and what if i dont make it till the end? what if i die here and my family thinks i abandoned them? i don't want to die. i haven't even lived my life yet."

his expression is hard to read. "you'll make it out of here alive," he tells you with conviction, "ill make sure of it."

your lips wobble as you stare at him, and he smiles before poking you in the nose. "finish your food. you need the energy for the next game. we'll make it out alive, then we'll try to get the voters on our side and go home. sound good?"

you snort, rolling your eyes before nodding. "sounds good."

he gives you his bread then, tells you to eat more. when you protest, he sends a warning glare your way— the one with a quirked eyebrow and a knowing gaze. you roll your eyes, and happily eat it.

you were hungry. perhaps he can tell things like that. you're just grateful.

today, you decided to be a little rebellious. when you first joined the games, you used to spend a long time in the bathrooms— analyzing, looking for a way out. during that time, you'd discovered that one of the screws in the ceiling vent was loose. you hadn't really bothered checking it before, but since it's daytime and you have some time before the next game, you decide to explore.

your hairclip works— the screws were not tightly fixed, so it unscrewed easily. you'd contemplated checking it out last night, but you didn't want to take any risks, especially since player 001 was with you. so now whatever you do, the responsibility will be yours.

when the bathroom gets empty and all the women leave, you pull it down and try climbing up. it's moments like these that you can pride yourself on your agility— work that usually required two people, you could do alone. with one leg on the flush and the other on the top of the cubicle, you climbed up, scratching the side of your arm slightly before finally getting in the vents. you groaned to yourself, and then started crawling inside. there were two ways to go— you chose the left one. you looked down, trying to understand the layout of the place where you were practically held hostage. you keep crawling, making sure not to make too much noise before finally seeing a place through the gaps that you hadn't seen before— you carefully remove the screws and pull it apart.

the place looks empty. the walls are all sorts of pink and green. you put your head down and look both ways, seeing a door at the end of the hallway. carefully, you climb down and lower yourself to the ground with a thump. your shoulder hurts a little. you stand up, and aim for the door. as soon as you begin walking, you hear footsteps. it's as if someone splashed cold water on you— you realize the grave mistake you just made. guards walk here with guns, and you made the impulsive decision to explore a dangerous place like this by yourself?

you look around, running towards the other end of the hallway. the footsteps get louder, and as you look over your shoulder, something grabs you. out of reflex, you go to scream, but a hand clamps down on your mouth, and your back collides with a hard chest.

"shh, it's me." the voice hisses. your wide eyes look up, scared, before realizing who it is.

player 001.

your chest heaves as you break out into a sweat, a tear rolling down your cheek. he keeps you in a tight hold, looking to the side, your breath dampening his hand. the footsteps suddenly become faint, as if walking away. your breaths sync together, and after a moment, he relaxes.

he takes his hand off your mouth before harshly twisting you to face him. his voice is hushed but angry, "what were you thinking?!"

"what are you doing here?" you whisper shakily at the same time.

"everyone was back in the room except you. i came to find you!" he chides, eyes hard. he shakes you slightly, "do you really plan to get killed like this? is this how you want to die? can you go one moment without being a reckless brat—"

his words make you want to cower in on yourself.

"i wanted to find a way out." you try to sound assertive, but your voice betrays you. your words come out panicked, "I wanted to help and— fuck— i got you in trouble too— you shouldn't have come looking for me! fuck— how are we gonna make it out of here?"

he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut before looking at you tiredly. "the game is about to start. we'll mix in with the crowd when they leave, i doubt they'll notice."

"are you sure it'll work?" you ask. you hear a faint announcement. the game is about to start.

he looks up at the speakers, alert. he grabs you tightly and drags you away with an air of confidence. "let's go."

you don't encounter any guards on the way back. it's strange, but you figure it's because they're all preparing for the next game. player 001's plan worked, because you two mixed in with the crowd, and the guards didn't notice. one of them turned back to look at you, and you panted, staring back at him. your heart raced, but you felt the presence of 001 next to you, and you felt at ease again. the guard looked away.

"i told you to stop being reckless." he says quietly, looking at 456 and 390, before looking back at you. your legs hurt from climbing so many stairs. "what would you have done if they found you?"

you swallow the lump in your throat, staring up at him intensely, eyes glassy. he saved your life. "i guess you stopped that from happening."

he clenches his jaw, his gaze flickering up and down your face before looking away. "i won't always be there to save you."

you look away, heart dropping. "thank you, 001."

"call me young-il."

you look up at him, blinking back tears, quirking an eyebrow as you two walk. "only if you allow me to add 'sir' at the end of it."

he chuckles, eyes crinkling. he has such a nice laugh. "why's that? respect?"

you nod, giving a little bow. "respect is very important in my culture as well. so thank you for saving my life, young-il sir."

he grins a little and pats your head. you thank him again, and decide you like him enough. so you tell him your name.

he tests it on his tongue, and you quite like the way he says it.

the next game had to be the most terrifying so far.

it was called mingle, and you had to run to the rooms in groups according to the number announced. things like these were where you got scared— where you had to group with people. in dangerous situations, you know people usually only look out for two types of people— themselves, and the ones dearest to them.

you were not dear to anyone here. you really should've interacted with more people.

the platform rotates, before the number is announced. six. your eyes widen and you frantically look around, but young-il is faster. he grabs you and drags you to the room with the rest of the team. you pant as the 30 seconds pass, and then look out the window in the door to see how many people were left— quite a few. your eyes widen as the red guards move forward with their guns raised.

young-il leaps forward and covers your eyes with his hand before pulling you into himself as the gunshots ring out— you flinch and shudder at every single one, breathing sharp and your entire frame trembling violently. when there is silence and the doors open, you look up. young-il gently lets go of you, looking around. he's panting too, and you look at him with the most crushed look on your face before he meets your gaze. he can tell what you want to know— why would you do that?

"you shouldn't have to see all this." he says quietly, adjusting his jacket and putting a little distance between you two. 456 pats your shoulder and makes sure people are okay before moving out. you just look at young-il for a while, but he simply looks around, seemingly lost in thought. as if fighting a war within himself. you wish you knew how to reassure him like he did with you, but you realize you barely know anything about him.

the entire floor is painted with blood. the sight makes you want to vomit. you walk carefully, but your foot slips in someone's blood and you begin to fall over. 456 catches you. "are you alright?"

instinctively, your gaze tries to find young-il but he's standing away. his head is lowered.

"yes, thank you." you give 456 a smile, before assuming your place on the platform again.

you play a few more rounds. you're lucky enough to have someone to team with each time— young-il and 456 don't let go of you even once. but then the voice runs out again, and they announce the number 3. this time, 456 is dragged along with the old woman and her son. you look around frantically, and meet young-il's panicked gaze with your own. you begin to run towards him, but two people grab you and drag you towards one of the rooms.

thanos and nam-gyu. you shriek at them, clawing at their arms and trying to run back out. what if young-il doesn't make it? what if something bad happens?

this time, you have no one to cover your eyes or ears. thanos and nam-gyu talk shit within themselves, and you look outside the little window, flinching with every gunshot ringing out, trying to pinpoint if it's young-il's body falling to the ground. you can't help the light sob erupting from your throat, and thanos chooses the wrong moment to come bother you.

"watcha looking for, señorita?" he laughs, poking your side, "is it your old man? did he finally—"

you turn to him and punch him in the face. he falls back and groans dramatically, rubbing the blood running down his nose. nam-gyu rushes to his rescue, giggling. they're both high as a kite. the doors open, and you rush out before they can bother you further.

you look around. 456 is with the rest of the team, but you can't find young-il. frantically, you look towards the dead bodies, heart pounding against your chest and head throbbing. suddenly, there's cheers from your team, and you look up to see young-il walking over with a bright grin on his face.

you don't know what compelled you to do it. you were acting on your emotions— overwhelmed by the relief you felt on the sight of his face. before you can even stop, you're dashing towards him and crashing into his body, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

he's shocked, that much is obvious by the way he tenses slightly. but then he returns the hug, wrapping his arms around you and placing one hand on your head, gently patting. "i told you we'd make it."

you choke on a soft sob, nodding, burying your head further into his chest, as if ready to climb inside him, "i thought you—"

he shushes you softly, voice gentle as he runs a hand through your hair. you can feel his heart racing against his chest too. you wonder if it's for the same reasons as you. "i'm okay."

you wish the game ended there. but there was one more round to go. as you rotated on the platform— the moment you were dreading finally happened as young-il predicted it. the number announced was two.

you were ready to die there. things seemed to happen in slow motion— 456 took his best friend 390, 149 was dragged by her son. you didn't get the chance to see who took who next, because young-il had grabbed your hand and was dragging you towards one of the rooms. there were only fifty rooms— the first one you two got to was taken. he dragged you to another with a mere ten seconds left.

you sighed in relief as you got in, before seeing another man was already there. he was shaking in fear, and you jumped at the harshness of young-il's voice when he ordered him to get out. when the other player refused, young-il lunged at him and put him in a headlock.

your eyes widened and you stepped forward, panic stricken but he looked right at you and called your name, "close your eyes!"

you flinched. you looked at the man, then at young-il, before squeezing your eyes shut. you slid to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest as soon as you heard a 'crack' before opening your eyes.

the player was dead. young-il cracked his neck.

the timer finished at that exact moment, and young-il crawled over to you before pulling you into his chest. the gunshots rang out, and you flinched, sobbing.

young-il killed someone.

"i had to do it," he whispered against your hair, holding your head against his chest, "we both have to make it out alive. i had to do it. you know that right?"

you wanted to believe him, you really did. but in that moment, you felt scared of him for the first time.

the doors opened, and the game finished.

while you wanted to revel in your victory, the incident during mingle had rattled you to your core. the others checked up on you, especially 388 and 456. young-il maintained some distance. you could feel like he thought it's what you wanted. but you could really use his comfort. you just don't know how to talk to him again without being nervous. you force yourself to relive your previous interactions with him— he's still the same young-il who has saved you and comforted you countless times.

he did what he had to do to ensure your survival. that wasn't something you could hold against him. not when both of your lives were on the line.

the voting this time was just as challenging. you made your way to the front of the crowd, praying that they'd choose wisely this time. you need to go home.

one of the players in the old man's team showed you the finger before clicking the 'o' button. the action made your eye twitch, and you grit your teeth before straightening up to attack that guy and scratch his face off, but a hand to your chest held you back.

if looks could kill, young-il's glare could've sent that guy home in a body bag. as the votes in favour of continuing the game increased, you pushed his hand off you and addressed the crowd, "have you all lost your fucking minds?!"

their chitter chatter stopped and they looked at you. you clench your jaw, "after losing so many people out there you still want to play? what the fuck is wrong with you people? are human lives that invaluable to you?"

player 100 steps forward, insufferable as always. "don't you see how much money we're getting for each person? it could settle our debt! we can't give up after how far we've come."

"you're gonna die!" you snap, pointing at him, "you could take this money and go home and be happy instead of risking your life for something that is not assured to you! why won't you listen?! i want to go home!"

the others in favour of terminating the game start chanting with you, a string of 'i want to go home' echoing across the room.

player 100 glares, urging his own team to chant against you. he looks towards young-il, yells something along the lines of, "look after your fucking kid!" before the barell of a gun presses against the back of your head. the whole room freezes, and so do you.

"disruptions against a democratic vote will not be excused." the robotic voice calls out. for a second you think this is it. you look at young-il. if you die here, you'd prefer the man who saved your life to be the last person you see. he glares at the guard, his jaw clenching. the guard lowers the gun and steps back and you let out a breath of relief.

you immediately saunter over to him, gritting your teeth. the vote is a tie— and they announce the next voting to be held tomorrow.

456 says there's about to be a fight. the rest of the team got busy setting up a barricade— and you didn't get the chance to talk to your player. you knew his concern though, when he made sure to especially hide your side of the bed with two mattresses.

you play with the hem of your shirt as you sit in your bed by your lonesome. your food sits by you, untouched. you dont feel like eating. the weight on the bed shifts, and young-il appears into view.

"you're not eating."

you swallow the lump in your throat. "i don't feel like it."

he contemplates, eyes lowered before he looks at you again. "im sorry you had to witness that. I don't want you to be scared of me."

you want to cry. "im not." you whisper, "you.. you had to do what you had to do. to save us."

he blinks, nodding.

"back there, i thought that was it. it's over." you chuckle bitterly. "but you saved me again. you acted on impulse. i could never resent you for it."

your eyes are bloodshot as you look at him again. fat tears roll down your cheeks, and he frowns. he sighs before leaning closer, brushing the tears away. "why are you crying?"

"i wouldn't have survived this far if it wasn't for you." you whisper, voice cracking. "promise me you wouldn't abandon me. promise me you won't die."

his gaze softens. he's silent for a bit, his hand coming to rest on your knee, "i promise."

you sniffle, wiping your tears away. a small smile appears on your face, "i punched thanos."

"thanos?" he frowns, confused before raising his eyebrows in recognition, "ah, the loud kid with the purple hair?"

you nod proudly. "he said something like 'did 001 finally die?' so i punched him."

he laughs heartily— face scrunching cutely, eyes crinkling. he shakes his head fondly before ruffling your hair again. "attagirl."

it makes you blush slightly and you smile, looking down at your lap. he grabs your dinner— the roll sitting next to you and unwraps it, taking out a piece before holding it out, "eat."

you snort before leaning forward and taking a bite. he looks at you for a while with that faraway look in his eyes, before wordlessly continuing to feed you the rest. the words go unsaid. 'what are we doing? why are we so comfortable with each other?'

some sauce sticks to the corner of your mouth. he raises his hand to hold your chin, his thumb gently wiping it off. your breath hitches.

neither of you protest when his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, gaze focused on it like he's hypnotized. he's thinking, mindlessly feeling the plush texture of it.

you've always been impulsive. especially in situations where you shouldn't be. it happens so naturally— how your lips part just slightly. and maybe he's impulsive too, because his thumb slips inside, and his breath hitches as soon as your lips wrap around his thumb.

his gaze raises to meet yours— and you blink almost dazedly. his thumb presses down on your tongue, and he calls out your name in the softest voice.

"i'm too old for you." he whispers, shaking his head in disapproval.

your eyes flutter, and you lean forward, grabbing hold of his wrist. he pulls his thumb out, and you almost whine in protest. to your utter delight, he replaces it with two of his fingers, and your eyes almost roll back as you crawl forward till you're situated on his lap, mouth stuffed with his index and middle finger. you suck on them enthusiastically. they're long and thick and perfect and you don't want them out of your mouth ever again. it elicits a soft moan out of him— and if you could put that sound on repeat for the rest of your life, you'd be happy.

he pulls his fingers out and grabs the back of your head, pulling you close till your foreheads press together. you try to lean forward, to capture his lips with your own. he chuckles slightly, eyes closed, playfully rubbing his nose against yours. you whine.

"so impatient." he whispers, and then his lips are colliding with yours. it would be embarrassing if someone were to catch you two like this— more so for him than for you. thankfully, the others are busy strategizing for the night, and are not looking for either of you.

you moan softly and he bites down on your bottom lip, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. it's desperate and reckless and so full of spit— it makes you whimper into his mouth and he pulls you further into himself, as if telling you to shut up. his experience is obvious in the way he kisses, and you follow his lead. unknowingly, your hips start gently grinding against his thigh, and he lets out a soft hiss. he pulls away slightly, strings of saliva connecting your mouths. he licks it away.

"come on, sweetheart," he whispers, one hand coming down to help your hips grind against his thigh, "make yourself feel good— that's it, that's my good girl."

you moan softly, and his free hand clamps your mouth shut. he speeds his movement, clenching and unclenching the muscle of his thigh, guiding your hips to move faster against his lap. it's been so long since you've masturbated— and this is unarguably the hottest situation you've ever been in, with the hottest man you've ever seen. so you're already close. you cry out into his hand, your voice muffled. he understands what you mean and lets you move on your own speed then, pulling your head into the crook of his neck as he whispers soft words of praise into your ear.

the moment he calls you his good girl again, you cum. he muffles the sound with his hand, squeezing his eyes shut before he looks at you intensely. you collapse against him, slightly sweaty, your hands holding onto his shoulders as you cling to him. he runs his hand through your hair, breathing sharply. it's a small moment of bliss in the hell you've found yourself in.

soon, the lights go out, and dread settles in your stomach once you feel his body tensing. player 388 pulls one of the mattresses back slightly, hisses a quick "get under the bed!"

and the next game begins.

A/N: this was incredibly fun to write. i love writing him a little soft and fatherly, so deal with it. i might write a part 2 for this, if anyone wants that. this idea has been in my head for a while. i love him so, so much. this fic is my baby and i truly hope you guys like reading it as much as i liked writing it.

tags! @carolinevoight @lovers-roq @wildtigerlili @menabuser16 @deadlyobsessivfennec @watasinekoru @hanakokunzz @cowuies

[vrystalius]

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Pre-Squid game)

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

Gong Yoo // The Recruiter // The Salesman

♡— Him not saying I love you…

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanos // Su-bong // Player 230

♡— Him not saying I love you…

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

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

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

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

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

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nam-gyu // Player 124

♡— Him not saying I love you…

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you…

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

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

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

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

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

Dae-ho // Player 388

♡— Him not saying I love you…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you…

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

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

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

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

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

Gi-hun // Player 456 (post s1)

♡— Him not saying I love you…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

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

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

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

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

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

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

In-ho // The Frontman // Player 001

♡— Him not saying I love you…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading <3

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

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

Take care of yourselves <33

[littlescorp1o]

face card never declines

[thanosgf]

choi seung hyun/t.o.p selfies • part one

[gongyoosgf]

sometimes baby is a 37 year old korean man that plays a crazy drug addict in squid game

[marsmaximoff]

more.. more thanos twitter links.. I beg you

❤️‍🔥 squid game twitter links nsfw ²

content warning: fem!viewer. these are explicit smut videos, watch at your own risk. you have been warned! if you don’t like this, don’t watch.

author’s note: well well well, seems like y’all enjoyed PART 1!!, cause i got many requests for more hehe. and honestly, i’m more than happy to feed you. make sure to be logged into twt/x beforehand, if some of the links stop working let me know. enjoy <3

〇 salesman (recruiter)

the funnier version of russian roulette

proving you he owns you now

△ inho (frontman) / sangwoo (218)

he’s thick

size kink through the roof

good girl

□ thanos (230)

this is the way he lets you ride him

he was feeling a bit softer

some car sex, why not

shhhhh

till you’re drooling

why were you dancing with those men?

〇 thanos + namgyu (230 + 124)

apologizing for voting x

△ namgyu (124)

me next who said that?

y’all im obsessed with his tattoos help

he’s got a crazy oral kink

softer days

make up sex

he’s such a tease

□ junho (police)

he’s so good to you

love language

〇 myunggi (333)

because he’ll never share you

△ pink guard

he’ll tell you what the next game is in return

□ gyeong-seok (246)

fav position?

lingerie kink

your pleasure’s his priority

deep and nice

〇 hyun-ju (120)

right after hearing you had a shitty day

you’ll be late to the dinner…

she lives for having you sit on her face

@stariou @unapersona0818 i hope they’re good enough and you enjoy them <3

[littlepeach-world]

The Midnight Misunderstanding

Pairing: Frontman/Hwang In-Ho x Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Summary: You give in to your late-night pregnancy cravings and slip out quietly, leaving your husband, Hwang In-ho, to wake up in a frenzy when he finds you missing.

Warnings: Angst, Fear of losing someone, grief, pregnancy, cravings, gun, slight fluff, soft-Inho.

Late into the night, you stretch quietly in bed, your mind drifting through sleepy fog and growing sharper with an insistent craving. Turning to your side, you see your husband, Hwang In-ho, sleeping peacefully beside you. The chill of the night air sends shivers down your spine, but the thought of satisfying your craving warms you with determination. The clock reads 2:47 AM.

Knowing how hard In-ho has been working and how much rest he needs, you decide to slip out discreetly, believing you can make it back before he even notices. You pull on a warm coat, gather your essentials, and tiptoe out the door, careful to close it softly behind you.

Hours seem to pass in what feels like minutes. In-ho stirs awake, reaching out to find your side of the bed cold and empty. He blinks groggily, thinking you might be in another room. "Y/N?" he calls softly, expecting a quick reply or the distant hum of your voice.

When no response comes, he rises slowly, the initial calm giving way to a creeping unease. He checks the adjoining bathroom, then the kitchen, and each empty room sends another pang of worry coursing through him. The house feels eerily quiet, and with each step, the calm facade he tried to maintain begins to crack.

As he makes his way through the silent hallways and finds no sign of you anywhere, panic floods through him instantly. Memories of losing his first wife surge into his mind, and the dread of facing the same heart-wrenching loss with you engulfs him like a tidal wave.

Terror grips his chest as he moves more frantically now. "Yeobo?" he calls out again, his voice slicing through the silence like a knife, but only the echo of his own voice answers him back. His heart races uncontrollably as he grabs his phone, his hands shaking with a mix of fear and urgency.

"I can't find my wife," he says, his voice quivering as he speaks to his guards. "Search the building immediately," he commands, his tone rigid and leaving no room for delay. The icy fingers of fear grip his heart, the stakes now higher than ever with the thought of losing you and the baby—his entire world teetering on the brink of uncertainty.

As he listens to the hurried replies of his guards springing into action, he pulls open the drawer beside his bed and grabs his gun, the cold weight of the metal feeling reassuring in his hand. The transformation is swift—his usual calm demeanor gives way to the steely resolve of the Front Man.

He methodically sweeps through the apartment, each shadow and creak heightening his anxiety. Has something sinister befallen you? Could Gi-hun, that determined Player 456, have somehow found you? The uncertainty gnaws at him, each tick of the clock echoing louder in the eerily quiet apartment. His thoughts race wildly, the sense of impending dread building with each passing second.

Just as his mind threatens to overwhelm him, the soft click of the door breaks the silence. He pivots sharply, raising his gun, only to freeze as you step back inside with a small stack of snacks and an apologetic smile. The weight of the moment crashes over him, the relief almost too much to bear.

"In-ho," you start, but the torrent of emotions inside him is already surging to the surface. He lowers the gun, his hands trembling.

"Where were you?" His voice is a mix of anger, relief, and lingering fear. He steps forward, his eyes scanning you from head to toe, ensuring you're really there and unharmed.

"I... I couldn’t sleep," you say softly, holding up the snacks as a peace offering. "I thought some comfort food might help. I’m sorry if I worried you."

He releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, the tension in his shoulders slowly fading. He pulls you into a fierce embrace, holding you as if you might disappear if he let go. The feel of you, warm and real in his arms, does more to calm his racing heart than anything else.

"I thought..." his voice breaks, unable to finish the sentence. The memories of his first loss are still too raw, the pain too fresh.

You pull back slightly and cup his face in your hands, your eyes filled with understanding and love. "I'm here. I’m not going anywhere," you reassure him, gently stroking his cheek.

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. When he opens them, there's a new resolve mirrored in their depths. "Next time, wake me," he pleads softly. "I can't... I won't lose you and the baby. You both mean everything to me."

You nod, your heart aching for the pain he’s been through. "I promise," you whisper, and he takes a deep breath, slowly finding his composure again.

With his arm protectively around you, he leads you back to the bedroom. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm, reassuring light on your path. 

With measured steps, he walks over to the dresser and slides the gun back into the drawer, locking it firmly to ensure it’s secure. The sight of him putting the weapon away brings a greater sense of calm to both of you.

As you reach the bed, he gently guides you to sit on the edge before kneeling in front of you.

His eyes soften as he places his hands on your growing belly, the life inside a beacon of hope amidst his fears. He leans in, tenderly kissing your pregnant belly, a silent vow of protection and love to both you and the unborn child.

"We’re in this together," he murmurs, his lips lingering on your skin. You smile down at him, your hand resting on his head.

Under the covers, he keeps you close, one arm wrapped protectively around you, his hand resting gently on your stomach. The snacks are forgotten on the bedside table as sleep finally takes over, but this time, it’s a peaceful sleep, secure in the knowledge that you’re safe and by his side.