#recruiter squid game

[inhogf]

childhood bully Gong Yoo ♡

· contains: dead dove do not eat, unprotected sex, dub-con, dark content, manipulation, bondage, blackmail, 🍇, mentions of ab*rtion · note: first fic and im not very proud of this !! ill probs edit this later soo like stay tuned

it had been three weeks. three whole weeks since gong yoo, your biggest bully, recorded you sucking your boyfriend's dick inside the male toilet stalls. your boyfriend would pull his pants up, ditching you and running away, leaving you to be cornered by your sweet senior gong yoo— who'd threaten to post the videos up on the school public board if you don't do as he says. he'd chuckle, staring down at your glossy eyes as you hoped he'd spare you just this once; unbeknownst to the fact his boner got even harder just by seeing you cry.

up until now, you've been rotting away at your house, terrified of what gong yoo would do when you went to school the next day. so you didn't. your mom would be worried sick, wondering why her sweet innocent child was missing school for days on end. your only excuse was being sick. after all; being home was your escape. your escape from gong yoo and from all the fucked up shit he'd do to you.

little did you know, gong yoo would find your address from the school's physical database after convincing his homeroom teacher he needed it for something important. after all, his punching-bag princess was important to him. he'd time it perfectly, waiting for when your parents left for work, and show up to your house; his school backpack filled with all the things he'd need for you. your neighbours were completely oblivious to what was going on. after all, who would suspect such a pretty looking boy all dolled up in a school uniform?

he didn't dare ring the bell. why would he? he had opened up the window and climbed into your kitchen, taking a quick note of all the surroundings and potential threats (the kitchen knives ♡) before making it all the way up to your room. your door was halfway open, allowing him a perfect view of you laid up on your bed reading a book.

you were in a loose shirt, and such dangerously short pants, you're so daring. gong yoo palmed the growing tent protruding through his pants. you made him sooo hormonal, and you didn't even know.

“hello, you.” he'd walk in with stomping footsteps, letting his presence be known. he's no pussy. you jumped up from the cavern you had been rotting in for the past few weeks hiding from him. your mind racing to get the nearest weapon you could find. all you could muster up in your hands was your bedside clock, daring to throw it at him.

he lunged at you, pinning you down to the bed as he shushed you, his strong arm holding yours above your back as your face was forcefully smushed into your pillow with his other arm.

“get the fuc- agh- away from me-!!” he held you down with his bodyweight as you'd wriggle in attempts to get him off— you're so innocent, you don't even know that turns him on even further. he'd grab a rope from his backpack and tie your swollen thin wrists up first, leaving your legs free.

“be still, and we can make it easy for both of us.” he'd turn you around and spread your legs apart, your legs attempting to kick away his hands yet all attempts fall futile under him. who knew teenagers were that strong?

eventually, you got too tired for it all. your kicking had stopped yet your crying grew louder and your nose runnier. it was all such a sight to see for gong yoo and his hormonal little brain.

he fumbled with his belt and unzipped his jeans, just sooo greedy to pound your pretty pussy until it had memorized his thrusts. he hooked a finger on the waistband of your shorts and pulled them down in one swift motion prior to practically ripping your panties off. he just couldn't wait to nut in you.

“you're enjoying this? getting fucked your bully? what a fucking slut.”

your own body had betrayed you as your leaking pussy was displayed to him. you hate to admit it, but your panties got soaked right when he entered the room. maybe, just maybe, he's right about you being a slut.

he'd jerk his fat cock off for a few seconds before aligning it up with your pink, leaking, pussy. he wanted to do you raw, his precum already beading up on his thick tip already.

he let out a hearty groan as he threw his head back. it was as tight as he imagined it to be. your juices had made it so easy for him to slide in, yet so painful for you. who were you to blame? his size was simply so fucking big. he gave you zero time to adjust and started thrusting it all in like a pussy-hungry little baby. you were so tight around his girth, your pussy practically denying permission to his body. all of it was too much for your tiny head as your brains were being fucked into mush.

he was pounding into you like there was no tomorrow, his balls slapping softly against your ass. he had you folded up like a book— all while you could do nothing but whimper and cry. your sweet pleas were music to his ears. you had to admit, though; his cock felt so fucking good rubbing against your walls like that. he did not give a fuck about making you cum though.. :c

“if you squeeze around me like that, i-i'm gonna fuckin’ nut..” he groaned, as his thrusts got inconsistent and sloppier indicating that he'd cum soon. your swollen red pussy was absolutely destroyed beyond repair. you were being such a little baby for him— crying while you were about to get your uterus filled, not caring about condoms or pulling out.

with one final thrust, his cum seeped into your cervix filling you up, as he rolled his stuttering hips and rode out his orgasm. he cummed so much, who knew his balls could store this much liquid? he buried his head into the crook of your neck and you could feel him breathing sososo fast, it was almost cute.

"take the pill."

cc @inhogf dont steal

[greengoblinswifey]

Fatal Attraction

pairing— The Salesman x Recruiter!Reader

summary— You and the Salesman share an undeniable attraction that’s filled with playful banter and sexual chemistry, despite the risks of being involved as recruiters for the Squid Game. It eventually boils over in a way you didn’t expect. based on this request.

warnings— sexual tension, flirting, jealousy, switch!salesman, manipulation, groping, slight voyeurism, thigh riding, praise kink.

a/n— part 2?🤭

Part II

The evening air was cloudy as the city hummed around you. Dressed in a chic black dress that hugged your figure and a pair of sleek red bottom heels, you walked through the dimly lit streets with an air of effortless confidence. Your black curls cascaded over your shoulders, catching the light as you moved, each step commanding attention. The world around you seemed to part as men turned their heads, unable to resist the allure you exuded.

You smirked, feeling the eyes on you. Most of the time, you didn’t need to say a word. They came to you. A flirtatious smile was all it took, and you knew that by the time they left, they'd be clutching the game card in their hands, their minds already made up. It was easy, really. Your beauty and charm were weapons, subtle but deadly, and you wielded them with precision. It was no wonder they hired you.

Behind you, the Salesman was watching. His gaze followed you, a mix of admiration and something else, something darker? He’d always been fascinated by you, but you knew he wouldn’t admit it. His competitive streak ran deep, and that was what made the dynamic between the two of you so—interesting. You had a way of making him lose focus, just for a moment, and he hated how much he liked it.

“Are you always this distracting?” he asked. He stepped closer, his presence almost predatory as you felt his eyes linger on you for too long.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you teased.

He narrowed his eyes, clearly annoyed but intrigued at the same time. “You're making it hard for me to concentrate,” he said.

You leaned in just enough to feel the heat between you, brushing past him sultry, making sure to brush your ass against hun. “Well,” you said, your voice a whisper, “maybe you just need to focus more.”

The way his jaw tightened gave you a little thrill. He wasn’t used to being the one distracted, but there you were, effortlessly captivating him. He hated that you had this power over him, but at the same time, it only fueled his need to be around you.

As you approached a group of lower class men, you effortlessly captured their attention, your words emphasized as you explained the game to them, each one of them hanging on your every word. They didn’t even care about the money anymore, they were entranced by you, by the way you spoke, the way you looked, the way your eyes sparkled with mystery.

You glanced over your shoulder, catching the Salesman’s narrowed eyes. There was a flicker of jealousy there, and you smiled to yourself. He was usually so composed, so in control, but when it came to you, it was clear he was a little off balance.

As you handed the last card to a willing participant, you turned back toward him, catching frustration in his eyes. “You’re still looking at my ass,” you noted. “Is there something you want to say?”

His eyes flickered to yours, something passing between you, but instead of responding immediately, he took a step closer, cornering you against a nearby wall. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel his breath on your skin, and for a moment, the world around you both seemed to fade away.

“We need to focus,” you said, your voice a mix of teasing and determination. You could feel his body heat radiating against yours, and for just a second, you almost let go. But the chemistry between you two was a game of its own, one you weren’t ready to lose yet.

His lips hovered inches from yours, but you moved away just in time, leaving him wanting more, the silent promise of what could be lingering in the air between you. You walked away, leaving him there, caught between frustration and fascination.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, but there was a smile at his lips. He couldn’t stay mad at you for long.

“You love it,” you called over your shoulder with a wink, and he couldn’t argue with that.

The bustling subway platform crowded, filled with footsteps, idle chatter, and the occasional rumble of an approaching train. You stood poised, elegant as ever while the Salesman stood nearby, his briefcase in hand and his usual smirk in place, but even he couldn't deny that all eyes were on you.

“You’re making this too easy,” he said, his voice laced with amusement as he watched another man approach you, drawn in like a moth to a flame.

“Not my fault I have—certain advantages,” you replied, letting your hand drift over your tits for just a moment before returning to the man who had approached you.

The man stammered as you handed him a game card, your voice smooth as you explained the rules. He barely registered the words, too mesmerized by the way you leaned in just enough to catch his attention.

From the corner of your eye, you saw the Salesman watching, his expression a mixture of pride and annoyance.

“You’re going to spoil them,” he muttered under his breath as the man walked away, clutching the card like it was a love letter.

“Jealous?”

“Hardly,” he shot back, but the way his jaw tightened said otherwise.

As you moved through the station, you approached another potential recruit, a man sitting on a bench, his head in his hands. His clothes were old, his expression weary. You softened your approach, sitting beside him with a look of genuine concern.

“I couldn’t help but notice you look like you could use a fresh start,” you began, your voice gentle.

The man looked up, startled by your presence. His eyes widened as he took in your appearance, clearly caught off guard.

“It’s not easy, is it?” you continued, your tone having fake empathy. “But I can offer you something better. A chance to turn things around.”

By the time you handed him the card, the man was nodding eagerly, his despair replaced by a spark of hope.

The Salesman watched from a distance, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re a witch,” he said when you returned to his side. “The way you manipulate people—it’s almost unfair.”

“Takes one to know one,” you said smiling.

Later that evening, the two of you stood in a crowded peak, each of you scanning the crowd for potential players. He approached a group of men, his signature ddakji tiles in hand. “Care for a game?” he offered, his tone inviting.

The men glanced at him, then at you, their interest shifting immediately.

“Actually, we’d rather play with her,” one of them said, his gaze fixed on you.

You smirked, stepping closer to the Salesman and leaning in just enough to make him flinch. “Looks like you’ve got competition,” you whispered.

“Careful, or I might start charging for your services,” he retorted.

As the men prepared to play, you caught the Salesman watching you again. You met his gaze, your lips curving into a sly smile. Then, almost unknowingly, you bit your bottom lip, letting the subtle action hang heavy in the air.

His eyes darkened, his composure slipping for just a moment before you stepped away, leaving him standing there, frustrated and wanting more.

During one particularly tense recruitment, a man you’d just handed a card to glanced between you and the Salesman, frowning. “You two, you should really sort out whatever this is,” he said, gesturing between you.

Without missing a beat, you turned to him. “What you need to sort out is that broke issue you have,”you retorted, leaving him sputtering as you walked away.

“You’re ruthless,” the Salesman laughed, shaking his head.

“And you love it,” you shot back, not even bothering to deny it.

As the night wore on, the two of you found yourselves alone again, leaning against a railing overlooking the city. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his hand brushing against your arm. For a moment, it seemed like he might close the distance, but you stepped back, breaking the spell.

“Back up,” you snapped.

He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “One day, you’re not going to walk away,” he said.

You smiled, turning away as your curls bounced with each step. “Good luck with that,” you called over your shoulder, leaving him to brew in his frustration once again.

Another evening at the busy train station, you and the Salesman stood on opposite sides of the platform, each scanning for potential recruits. You caught his eye briefly before a man in a tattered suit approached you. He didn’t hesitate to ask your name, his interest plain.

The Salesman watched from a distance as you gave the man a coy smile, tilting your head to send the perfect signal. The man eagerly accepted the card you handed him, and even after walking away, he kept glancing back at you.

“Showing off again?” the Salesman said as he finally approached.

“Not my fault,” you said with a shrug. “They just come to me.”

“They should try not flirting with you for once,” he muttered, his jaw tightening as his gaze darted to the men still watching you.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” you laughed softly, leaning in for him to smell your perfume.

Later that night, the two of you walked back to the car after another successful round of recruitment. He was unusually quiet as you strolled under the streetlights, the faint sound of your heels breaking the silence.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, glancing up at him.

He hesitated, then said, “I was just thinking, how do you do it?”

“Do what?”

He stopped walking and turned to face you. “Get everyone to fall at your feet like that.”

You tilted your head, a small smile on your lips. “It’s a gift. But don’t worry, you’re not immune.”

He shook his head, his smirk returning.

During one recruitment night, you and the Salesman found yourselves at a lounge. You moved effortlessly through the room, drawing attention without even trying. At the bar, a man offered to buy you a drink, and you accepted with a polite smile, leaning in to keep him hooked.

From across the room, the Salesman watched, his jaw clenching when the man leaned closer to whisper something in your ear. You laughed lightly, slipping the card into the man’s jacket pocket before walking away.

When you rejoined the Salesman, he raised an eyebrow. “Enjoy yourself?”

“Totally,” you replied, sipping the drink you had brought back with you.

“Next time, I’ll be the one buying you a drink,” He leaned in, his voice low.

You looked up at him, your lips curving into a playful smile. “If you’re lucky.”

One late night, as you were reviewing the day’s ‘victims’, a playful argument broke out between you two.

“You only got that guy at the park because I wasn’t there,” he teased, leaning against the table.

“Oh, please,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “He wouldn’t have looked at your ass twice.”

“Care to bet on that?”

You met his gaze, unfazed. “Fine. Loser buys dinner.”

“Deal.”

As he turned to leave, you called after him, “You should practice your flirting first. Wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself.”

Another evening you stood on the busy street corner, your black dress and signature heels drawing stares as usual. A potential recruit leaned lazily against a lamppost, his attitude immediately grating.

“You think I’m fucking stupid enough to fall for this?” he sneered, flicking the card you handed him back toward you. His tone was sharp, his words laced with anger.

Your smile tightened, but you didn’t break your composure. “I wouldn’t say stupid, but if the shoe fits—”

The man stepped closer, his expression darkening. “Listen, woman, don’t test me. You think your little tricks work on everyone?”

Before you could respond, the Salesman appeared at your side, his eyes narrowing as he sized up the man. Without warning, his fist connected with the man’s jaw, sending him falling backward. The man scrambled to his feet, muttering curses as he stumbled away.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s my job to make sure you’re safe,” he replied firmly, his voice softer now as his eyes stayed on yours.

For the first time, you faltered. His protectiveness caught you off guard, leaving you unsure of what to say.

He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “How about dinner?”

“Sure, what the hell.”

The restaurant was cozy and dimly lit, a bit romantic. You sat across from him, sipping your wine as laughter filled your small talk. For the first time, the banter felt easy, natural.

The waitress arrived to refill your drinks and smiled warmly at the two of you. “You two make a great couple,” she said.

You opened your mouth to correct her, but the Salesman beat you to it. “Yes, we do,” he said, his grin almost asking you to challenge him.

You shot him a look, your eyebrow arching. He just shrugged, clearly enjoying himself.

As the meal continued, you slipped off your Louis Vuittons under the table, your stocking clad foot gliding toward him. You made contact with his leg first, and when he didn’t react, you moved higher.

His fork clattered against his plate when your toes brushed against his cock. He coughed, his eyes darting to yours.

“Careful,” you said, tilting your head innocently.

“What—what are you doing?” he stammered.

“What do you mean?” you asked, as if you had no idea what he was talking about.

His jaw clenched as he tried to maintain his composure, but you could see the cracks forming. “Act normal,” you murmured softly, your foot still teasing his cock. “Wouldn’t want anyone to know what we’re doing.”

He nodded stiffly, attempting to make small talk, but his sentences came out broken and stuttered. You held back a laugh, savoring his discomfort.

By the time the meal ended, you had stopped, sitting back in your chair and putting your heels back on with a satisfied smirk as he paid the bill.

The drive back to your apartment was quiet, but the air between you was filled with more tension than usual. You placed your hand on his thigh, rubbing lightly as he gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“Why are you so tense?” you asked.

“Don’t act dumb,” he muttered, his voice strained.

You giggled, sliding your hand higher until you reached his bulge. His sharp inhale didn’t go unnoticed, and you leaned back in your seat, thoroughly enjoying yourself.

When you finally reached your apartment, he followed you inside, closing the door behind him. Before you could take another step, he spun you around and pressed you against the door, his hands braced on either side of your head.

His face was close to yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m sick of your games,” he growled. “It doesn’t matter what happens out there. In here, I’m in control.”

You bit your lip, your pulse quickening. “Yes, sir,” you murmured, your voice teasing.

That was all it took for his restraint to snap.

His lips crashed against yours. It was magnetic, a clash of sexual tension and pent up frustration. His hands framed your face as if you were going to slip away. Your arms went around his neck instinctively, drawing him closer. The world outside the apartment ceased to exist. His lips moved with a ferocity that made you forget every rule you were breaking.

Before you could even catch your breath, he lifted you effortlessly, his hands firm on your thighs as he carried you through the dimly lit apartment. His strength, his control, sent something through you. He didn’t hesitate, pushing open the door to the bedroom with his shoulder, and setting you down in his lap as he sank onto the edge of the bed.

You slowly began grinding on him, his hands moved to your waist, guiding you instinctively. “You always know how to push me, don’t you?” he murmured against your lips.

“Me? I think you’re the one who—”

He cut you off with a smirk, his grip tightening. “Ride my thigh,” he said suddenly.

Your heart beat faster. “W-what?” you stammered, caught off guard.

“You heard me,” he repeated, his dark gaze locking with yours. “Show me how much control you really have.”

Your breath hitched as his hands remained steady on your hips, guiding you forward. You hesitated, unsure if this was a line you should cross, but his touch, his words, it was consuming. Slowly, you moved on his thigh, the friction and the intimacy making your pulse quicken.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “Just like that.”

His praise sent a thrill through you, but as the moment grew more intense, the reality of the situation began to creep in. Your hips moved back and forth and your head fell back as the pleasure began to build in a way you didn’t expect. You were leaking through your thong and stockings, staining his pants. His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face so you couldn’t avoid his gaze. “Cum on my thigh,” he whispered.

The coil in your abdomen snapped, your release hitting you like a truck, and you sagged against him, breathless and unsure how things had escalated this far. His arms wrapped around you as he steadied you, holding you close as the weight of what just happened sank in.

“W-we shouldn’t be doing this,” you whispered, breaking the silence.

“No,” he agreed, his voice low. “But I’m not stopping.”

The rules echoed in your mind, the Front Man’s orders, the consequences if you were caught. You knew you were playing with fire, but there was no denying the pull between you.

“If he finds out,” you trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

His thumb brushed against your cheek as he met your gaze. “He won’t,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The words hung in the air, a reassurance and a promise all at once. You knew it wasn’t that simple, but in his arms, you felt obligated to believe.

[voxslays]

MORNINGS IN — THE SALESMAN

Warnings: Mentions of smut, bathing together.

✈︎ For Gong Yoo, there is no greater joy than waking up to his beloved partner after a long night of ‘passionate fornication’. Your sleeping form is one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.

✈︎ Seeing the way your lips slowly part and your chest slowly rising and falling as you breathe. How your messy hair frames your face, or how the bright rays of light from the window hit your skin.

✈︎ Gong Yoo loves hearing your groggy morning voice as he gently shakes you awake, your beautiful eyes meeting his. The recruiter loves how you let out a small little gasp as he nips the sensitive skin of your neck.

✈︎ The salesman especially loves slowly making love to you in the mornings—which is almost always a stark contrast to the night before. Yet, your little whimpers and whines of ecstasy remain the same.

✈︎ The salesman will then get up and run the water for a bath. He will return a minute or two later and carry you to the exquisite bathtub, slowly putting you into the warm water, as he slips in behind you.

✈︎ Once you two are done drying off and brushing your teeth, Gong Yoo will make a nice breakfast—only the best for his darling—and eat it with you, before heading off to do some more recruiting. And then the cycle continues.

[sangwookisser]

☆ALL IN - THE SALESMAN☆

cw: dumbification, degradation, praise, bondage, manipulation, mean man, naive! reader, fem reader, use of girl, piv, knife play, blood, age gap, reader is in college, not proofread

Things for you had been painfully mundane since you came to South Korea.

The dream of studying abroad felt like a distant memory now, overshadowed by the crushing weight of student loans, the mounting rent for your tiny, damp apartment, and the gnawing guilt of having asked your parents for help more times than you cared to admit.

You'd been blinded by the shiny promise of a new life, a promise of mastering a language, soaking in vibrant culture, and making lifelong friends. The glossy brochures and campus videos hadn’t prepared you for the harsh reality of your endless part-time job that barely covered utilities, let alone anything fun or remotely exciting.

Instead, you're dodging calls from the bank, turning down invitations to go out from classmates because you can't afford a coffee, and rationing cup noodles and shitty canned food to try and make it to your next payday without starving.

Tonight was no different. A long shift at the convenience store had left your feet aching and your mind clouded with worry about how you’d manage next month’s tuition installment. You were on your way home, the subway platform dim and almost eerily quiet.

Then, like clockwork, your string of bad luck reared its head: the train you’d been sprinting for slid away with a hiss, the doors snapping shut in your face just as you reached the edge of the platform.

You curse, doubling over to catch your breath. Your voice echoed, but no one cared enough to glance your way. You slumped onto the nearest bench, the cold metal biting through the thin fabric of your tacky work pants. You bury your face in your hands, wondering where it all went wrong.

Raising your head, your reflection in the train station's grimy tile wall looked as defeated as you felt—messy tendrils of hair escaped your ponytail, your makeup patches in some areas, and there was a hole in the sleeve, one you kept telling yourself you’d fix but never did.

The cold silence of the station was broken by a soft, measured voice.

"Hello."

You blinked, startled, and looked up to see a man standing a few feet away. He was dressed impeccably, a dark suit fitting him perfectly, his posture relaxed but poised. His voice was calm, almost soothing, like he had all the time in the world to talk to someone as unremarkable as you.

You didn’t answer immediately, caught off guard by his presence. Who even approached people in subway stations like this? But there was something disarming about the way he smiled—not overly friendly, not threatening. Just calm.

Dangerous.

The man studied you for a moment, his head tilting slightly. In his mind, he noted how exhaustion clung to you, from the slouch of your shoulders to the defeated look in your eyes. Still, there was something quite captivating about you—maybe the soft, shiny hair framing your face, the long lashes shrouding sparkling, wide eyes, or the way defeat lit up your features just a moment ago when you cursed at the train. He tilts his head, still staring.

Pretty, he thought briefly, but he said nothing of it.

"You’re a foreigner, aren’t you?" he asked smoothly, his tone making it sound more like an observation than a question.

You stared back at him, swallowing thickly. He was the kind of handsome you didn't often see. It seemed untrustworthy, like his looks were meant to lure you into a false sense of intrigue. His dark hair is slicked back perfectly, and he's smiling lightly, though it doesn't seem to meet his eyes.

You hesitated but nodded, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "Yes sir. I’m not from around here."

He let out a hum of understanding, and he can't deny the heat that spreads through his body at your breathy voice and the way you call him sir like he's superior to you. "Ah, that explains it. You have the look of someone far from home." He gestured to the empty bench beside you. "Mind if I sit?"

He didn’t even wait for an answer, lowering himself onto the edge of the bench with an easy grace, his briefcase resting neatly at his feet.

"What brings you here?" he asked, his tone still conversational, like he wasn’t prying but genuinely curious.

"School," you muttered, feeling oddly self-conscious under his calm gaze. "I’m studying here. Well, I was supposed to be studying here, mister. Things haven’t exactly gone as planned."

The man nodded slowly, as though he understood far more than you were saying. "It can be hard, being so far from home. I imagine it’s not easy. Are you on your own?"

You frowned, the vulnerability in his words hitting a little too close to home. You told him the truth before you realized how dumb it was to tell a stranger that you've got no one around who's looking out for your safety. "Yeah, b-but… I’m managing," you said, though even you didn’t sound convinced.

He nodded, still smiling. Somehow it felt both genuine and calculated. Your head was swimming. Was this a result of going so long without any real human interaction?

He leaned forward just slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. His fingers brushed against your sleeve—light, fleeting, casual. The kind of touch that could easily be dismissed, but still made you notice.

"So," he continued smoothly, sliding his fingers lightly through the hole in your sleeve, and he tuts softly. Mockingly. "What are you supposed to be studying?"

"Why does it matter?" you replied, feeling a little defensive, like you had to justify yourself. "Just... psychology. I wanted to study the mind."

“Psychology,” he repeated, his lips quirking up in an impressed smile. “Brains and beauty. Now that’s a combination.”

You stared at him, unsure whether to be flattered or suspicious. The way he looked at you made you feel oddly self-conscious, like he was dissecting every little detail—your messy hair, your tired eyes, even the nervous way you shifted in your seat.

Neither of you speak, and his hand brushed back and forth against your wrist, just long enough to feel deliberate. He notes how soft your skin is, and he looks into your eyes as he speaks again. "So tense. I’m not here to interrogate you. Just making conversation."

You flushed, unsure why your pulse suddenly felt faster. "What do you want?"

His smile widened, smooth as silk. "Maybe I just wanted to brighten your evening. You seemed like you could use some company."

Despite yourself, you let out a breathy laugh, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, well, company doesn’t pay my bills, sir.”

"True," he said, leaning closer now, his tone dropping into something almost conspiratorial.

He wasn't supposed to be doing this. As a recruiter, there were unspoken rules about boundaries. A certain level of professionalism was expected—stay detached, keep the interactions brief, and never get personally involved. But you had caught his attention in a way most didn’t.

Perhaps it was the way in which your soft, wide eyes looked pathetically exhausted, the way your lips pursed and looked chapped from the way you'd worry them between your teeth, or the mild distrust in your tone. He hadn't even asked you to play his game yet.

Whatever it was, he found himself intrigued.

“I don’t usually do this,” he said, his voice dipping into a low, almost intimate tone. His eyes stayed on you, his gaze steady but not overbearing. “But why don’t you come back to my place? It’s quieter, and I promise we can converse much better.”

You blinked, startled by the casual audacity of the offer. Your instincts screamed at you to say no, and despite the faint blush creeping into your cheeks, you managed to find your voice.

“I… don’t think that’s a good idea, sir.” you said lightly, trying to brush it off without making things awkward. “Thanks, though.”

He lets out a soft laugh, leaning back and sliding his hand out of your sleeve so he can take a lock of your hair around his finger, twirling it absentmindedly. He hummed softly, his lips curling into a sly smile.

“Smart girl,” he murmured, leaning close. You avoided his eyes, feeling a mix of embarrassment and unease at how easily he read you. His fingers grazed your thigh, light and fleeting, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The touch sent a shiver up your spine, and yet you didn’t pull away.

He leaned in closer, his presence wrapping around you, the faint scent of cologne mingling with the crisp chill of the subway air. “You’ve got that sharp mind of yours working overtime, don’t you?”

“You’ve been pushing yourself so hard,” he continued, his voice laced with a mix of admiration and something softer, almost indulgent. “You remind me of someone trying to outrun the tide. It’s admirable, really, but how long can you go, all on your own, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard, his words hitting you in a way you hadn’t expected. He made it sound so effortless, like he saw through every wall you’d carefully constructed.

“And look at you,” he cooed, his fingers trailing down to your wrist, brushing against your skin with a touch so light it was almost maddening. “Still standing, still fighting, even when it feels like the whole world’s against you.”

There was a beat of silence, and then he leaned in just enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. His tone dropped, intimate and conspiratorial. “But maybe it’s time someone took care of you for a change.”

Your breath hitched, your chest tightening as his words wrapped around you like a cocoon. You weren’t sure if it was the way he said it, or the way his eyes seemed to pierce right through you, but something inside you started to unravel as arousal builds.

He tutted softly, his hand trailing lazily between your legs, spreading them apart softly. You flush, your face warming even more as you start to feel the thin cotton of your panties dampen. It's been so long. You haven't had anyone touch you like this in months. “Such a pretty little thing, aren't you?” he asked, his fingers tracing an idle pattern along the clothed slit of your pussy. “Even like this—tired, worn out. There’s something about you.” He smiled, almost to himself, his tone turning ever so slightly condescending. “Bet no one tells you that enough, do they?”

Your breathing quickened, a shaky whimper leaving your lips. You're still unable to meet his eyes. “It’s a shame, really. A girl like you deserves to hear it. Deserves to feel it.”

You bit your lip, every rational thought in your mind warring against the way he made you feel. Warm. Seen. Desired. He continued to drag two fingers up and down the soft plump lips of your pussy, and you moan, toes curling in your worn sneakers

“You’ve been running yourself into the ground,” he said, his voice honeyed and soft, like he was speaking to a child in need of reassurance. “You don’t have to do that tonight. Let me be the distraction you didn’t know you needed.”

His free hand grazed your jaw, tilting your face slightly toward his. His eyes locked with yours, and his smile deepened, almost triumphant. “Just for a while. Let go of all that stress. Let someone else carry the weight.”

You exhaled shakily, your resistance crumbling as his words seeped into the cracks of your exhaustion. When you finally nodded, your agreement was barely more than a whisper.

“Good girl,” he said softly, his voice dripping with approval. He stood then, extending a hand to help you up, his touch lingering just long enough to make your pulse quicken.

"F-fuck..."

It'd happened more quickly than you'd expected. You didn't even get to have drinks before he'd had you up against the door of his clean, sterile apartment. It didn't look like anyone lived there, from the faint chemical scent it carried and the way the furniture looked unused. His lips were on your throat, one hand pulling your hair back to keep your neck exposed and the other undoing your pants. "You're swearing at me now, are you?" He tuts, leaving a sharp nip against the column of your neck. "That's far too crude for a little girl like you. Where did your manners go?"

You whine at his condescending tone, and he shoves your panties to your ankles along with your pants. He laughs as he palms your pussy. "So wet already, pet? How eager. You're making it too easy for me." He has a finger in you before you can even defend yourself, and he pumps in an almost bored, haphazard fashion, like he's doing a chore. He curls the digit, laughing softly when you scream as he digs the tip of his slender finger onto your sweet spot.

"Pathetic." He breathes. "Did it even occur to you that we haven't exchanged names? You're no better than the whores men pick up on the side of the street. Except that you're a great deal cuter than any prostitute." He pushes two more fingers in one go into your sopping hole, and you wail, your legs beginning to shake at the unfamiliar intrusion.

You hiccup, tears building at your waterline as he drags the pads of his fingers along your walls, his other hand tugging your hair back sharply. He smiles sweetly, pecking your forehead tenderly, before he undoes the buttons of your uniform top, tossing it to the ground, and your bra shortly after.

Your head swims, and you start to register what's happening, and he gives one of your tits a fondle, rubbing his thumb over your pebbling nipple before shoving his face back into your neck and inhaling. "Jasmine and vanilla." he sighs. "How intoxicating. Do you know what you do to me, you silly girl? It's as though my brain has shut off and all i feel is you. I'm not fond of it." He pumps his fingers more firmly inside you, and you moan, trying to grab him and tug him in for a kiss, but he tuts and pushes you back.

"No no. Sluts like you don't get privileges like kissing. They get used." And with that, right before the delightful release of your orgasm, he tears his fingers out from inside you. You let out a sob, before he laughs and mocks your pout, giving your cheek a light slap. He's still fully clothed in his suit. He picks you up swiftly, tossing you over his shoulder and putting you on his huge, cold bed in a room that looks more like an office than a living space, and he tears off his tie.

"Mmm, n-need you, hu-hurts." You beg weakly, feeling so stupid for babbling like a child. Again, he mocks your cries. "It hurts, sweetheart? You're being so greedy. Don't you know you're supposed to wait for your turn?"

You pout, hands reaching for him, which he pushes back and pins above your head, tying them quickly to his bedpost. You keen, writhing on the mattress with displeasure. "You know, I'm really tired of your groveling. You've been nothing but a brat since I brought you here. I miss the shy little thing who couldn't even look me in the eye at the subway. He gives your clit a light pinch, rubbing the heel of his hand against your cunt. Not enough.

"Pl-Please." You beg out, your voice high pitched and broken "I n-n- hic need y-your cock in me, mister, need it."

He hums softly, his thumb on your clit and palm on your dripping cunt as he stares into your pretty eyes, glassy with blown pupils.

"Aw. Is that supposed to convince me?" He shakes his head, dark hair falling beautifully into his eyes. "Why don't you try a little harder?"

"I... I'll... l-let you do anything to me. A-anything y-you w-want, if y-you p-put your cock in me."

His eyes light up as soon as you say it. "Anything, you say?" He pauses his movements, and you whimper at the lack of stimulation. He says no more, simply unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging off his suit jacket, tossing both to the floor. Then, he's unbuckling his trousers. His boxers are slightly damp, and a fat bulge causes the fabric to strain. Your mouth waters at the sight of his sleek abdomen, toned and pale, lacking any imperfections. You want to touch. He coos at the way your eyes sparkle.

"Where's the attitude now, sweet thing? Aren't you the cutest." He finally frees his cock, long, thick, and swollen. His balls are heavy, full, and sit pretty at the base of his veiny shaft. The tip is flushed, and he smirks at the way you marvel at it. You strain slightly, aching to touch, taste, feel. But he won't let you. Instead, he wraps a hand around your throat and smirks, grabbing something from a drawer by his bedside table. Sleek, clean, sharp.

Your blood runs cold.

"What? Scared?" He says, distracting you by sliding his tip up and down your dripping folds. "Shouldn't speak before you think then, pretty little whore. Now." He slides the bulbous tip of his cock inside you, and your back arches at the intrusion, a whiny moan leaving your throat. Beads of sweat drip down the valley of your breasts, and he marvels at the sight, but he doesn't move. In fact, as you buck your hips towards hip, trying to ease more of his cock inside you, he remains deathly still, instead, putting his blade flat against your throat.

You blink, your lips parted. He rocks his hips slightly, stretching you out further by pushing an inch of his cock in you, before he pulls out quickly, and re-enters, putting only his tip in you once more.

You're going crazy. He buries himself inside you to the hilt in one smooth thrust, a soft bulge forming in your tummy from how big he is inside you. You whine loudly, tongue lolling out of your mouth as drool gathers at the side of your mouth, tears spilling down your face. He laughs at how fucked out you already are, a soft grunt leaving his lips.

"Haa, s-so tight... fuck." He starts, unable to resist thrusting in and out a few times, your pussy too wet and too warm to resist the temptation. "You're mi-milking me dry... can barely move inside you."

It's like you were made for him, your gummy walls perfectly stretched out to cling to every last vein and ridge on his cock. Then, he gathers himself again and draws back, leaving just his tip inside you.

Again, you sob in frustration. The world around you spins, and you swallow dryly, pulling at the tie scraping softly against your wrists.

What a stupid little thing you are. He rocks a few inches of his cock inside you teasingly, his thumb pushing down on your clit again while his other hand holds the knife flat against your throat. You stare at him nervously, shaking as he starts to drag the cool metal down your body, and he frowns as you squirm. "Hold still." He commands, but you don't, and he pinches your nipple as punishment, pushing half of his cock in you. Distracted, you pant and moan, and he thrusts inside of you repeatedly, making your head swim. He's loud, groaning and moaning at the way you cling to him with your sloppy walls, your sticky juices coating his cock as he fills you to the hilt.

"Clinging to me so tight." He breathes. "Does the thrill of the pain excite you, princess? I'll show you how it can be." And with that, he cuts into your soft little tummy, right above where your stomach distends from the bloated head of his cock hitting every inch of you.

Moaning, the pleasure and pain makes your head swim, and the coil of an approaching orgasm builds in your stomach. you can't see what he's carving into you, but you feel too good to care. "S-so... g-good," You choke out, hooking your legs around his waist as he grabs your hip with one hand and angles your body up, causing the tip of his cock to kiss your cervix. You scream, letting go as you soak his cock with your cream, and he moans, pounding into you like an animal. He reaches between your legs and gathers your liquids, along with the blood on your stomach, and shoves his fingers into your mouth, so deep that your eyes roll back as the floaty feeling of your orgasm remains. He throws his head back and moans at the way your pussy clings to him when you continue cumming, and he considers pulling out for a moment to cum on your tummy, but with your legs wrapped around him, its clear there's only one place you want him to finish.

"Ahn, please... P-please, i-inside me, sir, want it s'bad" You slur around his fingers, and that's all he needs as he spills rope after rope of hot, thick seed deep inside you, right into your womb, with how deep he is. He takes his fingers out of your mouth and drags your hips to him so you're flush against him, and he fills you up, fingers digging into your sides.

He stays there for a moment before pulling out, letting his cum drip from your weeping, stretched hole, and he smiles and leans down, pressing his lips to your firmly, tasting your liquids on your tongue. His tongue enters your mouth, and he swirls his around yours, getting hard all over again from your taste, and he pulls back before it becomes too much. He smirks down at your fucked out expression, wiping sweat off his forehead as he admires the mark he'd cut onto you.

A pretty little heart for the girl who'd stolen his.

[frost-queen]

Touch so foreign (Reader x The recruiter / salesman)

Requested by: @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @floatlosers,  @alex–awesome–22, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown, @wildiefleur , @meyocoko , @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23, @melsunshine  , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedrava-bitch-187, @erikasurfer , @slythetic  , @eliscannotdance, @p0nycurtis, @slythetic, @bitchybananaflower

Summary: After the games adopts Gi-hun reader to fill the empty hole in his life. Warning you of the man in a suit. When one day you encounter the recruiter by accident, it leads to an argument. Gi-hun coming just in time. Yet now the recruiter starts obessesing over you. Kidnapping you for a game of russian roulette with a twist.

Doorknob in your hand you were ready to leave. – “Y/n!” – hearing your sudden name, made you push the door in the lock once more. Humming loud, whilst looking over your shoulder. Gi-hun appearing into the room. His expression terrified. Without words you already knew what he meant. Since English wasn’t that great with him since he adopted you, you had learned to understand his body language.

You curled up a smile, patting your hip. Patting something hard hiding underneath your coat. – “I’ve got it.” – you reassured him. Gi-hun nodded worriedly. Still unsure to let you wander the streets of Seoul alone. Knowing very well what was out there or rather who was out there. Sighing soft you approached him. Grabbing him by both his shoulders.

“Avoid namja in a suit and briefcase. Avoid Ddakji.” – you recited. Having heard those words numerous times. Practically burned into your brain. Avoid anyone that could be the recruiter. Gi-hun exhaled relieved, moving his hand up to your cheek. Smiling with proudness at how well you listened.

“Good.” – he responded moving his arms around you for a hug. You hugged him back with a satisfied exhale. – “Gomawoyo.” – you spoke pulling away from the hug. Gi-hun chuckled loud. – “You’re Korean getting good.” – he ruffled his hand through your hair. Making you look annoyed at him for ruining your hair.

Blowing some hair out of your face, you laid it perfect once more. – “Now I must really go.” – you let out checking your watch. Hasting towards the door, waving your hand behind you. Gi-hun moved his hand up to wave back at you before you disappeared through the door.  Running down the stairs as you had a subway to catch. Something you couldn’t miss for you had a job interview to get to.

An international firm that worked with foreigners. No need to fully understand Korean as many people there spoke English. Something that came in handy for you. Your Korean wasn’t on point yet. Mostly it resolved around short sentences and words.

It has been exactly 3 years ago since Gi-hun took you in. Adopting a foreign girl as his own. It was right after the games. Perhaps he felt lonely, having lost so many people around him. He found you at the city centre trying to fight for your rights. Your parents had died in a car crash during your vacation to Korea.

Now the country wouldn’t let you leave so easily and you knew no one. Had no one till Gi-hun took you in as his own. Ever since he has been happier. With each day it grew a bit louder. Gi-hun has been helping you with your Hangul as you helped him with English. Taking care of each other. For neither wanted to be alone in this cruel world.

Rushing down the steps you went underground. Greeted by a coldness from being below ground. Following the right number to your platform. Going down another set of stairs, you arrived at the platform. A few people waiting for the subway as well. You came joining them. Observing them closely.

Observing their style of clothing. Whether or not they carried a suitcase. A man was sitting down with a suitcase between his feet. It made you swallow nervously. Staring as you couldn’t look away. The stranger turned his head to you. It made you quickly spin around. Turning away as you didn’t want him to see you.

Breathing heavier, you moved away. Creating a large distance between him and you. Heart pounding loud in your chest. Hands trembling. Feeling as if he was following you. Going after you. Perhaps to invite you to a game of Ddakji.

Your pace quickened not wanting to get caught in this. You’ve heard stories about the games and the recruiter from Gi-hun. It made you shudder and nauseous to even think about it. Eyes widening you saw that the platform was coming to an end. The black gaping tunnel staring hauntingly at you. A cold breezing through it.

Feeling a sudden hand on your shoulder made you freak out. Screaming loud, flipping your arm back to get the hand off. Squatting down to make yourself as small as possible. – “Please…” – you begged out, hands up. When you heard a loud scoff, it made you look up. A man speaking in Korean to you. Pointing with his finger and sounding clearly annoyed. You didn’t understand him as he was talking too fast.

He must have noticed the confusion on your face, making him sigh loud. – “No going over line!” – he called out gesturing at the line. It made you look down, seeing a yellow line. One you had clearly crossed. – “Oh…” – you said getting up. Apologizing to him with a bow. You stepped back over the line where it was save. Moving further to the back till your subway arrived.

It came riding in. Following the people to the doors, you dared to glance over your shoulder to the man with the suitcase. Your brows furrowing seeing him get up and greet another man excitedly. All smiley and hugging as perhaps he wasn’t the recruiter Gi-hun had warned you about.

Feeling some bumps against your shoulders, you blinked rapidly. Hopping onto the subway. Taking a seat and exhaling deep. Feeling your stress level calm down. The ride was but a few minutes till you got back off. This time you didn’t dare to look around. Simply hurrying outside without a glance. Rushing to your job interview.

Not that Gi-hun or you needed the money, but it was good for you to have an occupation. To mingle yourself into the Korean work culture. It would be good for your Korean was something Gi-hun would say. To get Koreans to accept you easier if you understood their ways of living more. With one last calming breath, you went inside.

Pushing the doors open, you exhaled relieved. It felt like an eternity that you had been inside there. Not sure if you nailed it. You felt nervous, but who knows. Walking away from the building, you pulled out your phone to text Gi-hun how it went. Eyes glued to your screen. Texting him with a mixture of English and Korean and emoji’s.

Smiling back at your screen while waiting for a reply. Going straight till something sturdy nearly knocked you off your feet. Setting you off balance as your phone dropped to the ground. A louder thud crashing to the ground. – “Joesonghamnida.” – you apologized with a bow. Eyes widening at the suitcase that had fallen down. Laying open as the money packets were clear as day.

Some money scattered around from the impact. – “Ya! Jugeullae!” – a loud man’s voice spoke. Grabbing you by your coat. Gasping loud, you looked up, staring right back at a man… wearing a suit. Shaking you roughly back and forth. – “You babo!” – he cursed out. The wind picking up some of the money as it spiralled in the air.

“I’m sorry… mianhamnida.” – you responded with a shaky breath. – “Dakcho!” – he yelled at you. Making you swallow frightened. You needn’t understand him to know what he meant. Pressing your lips together you held your words in. He continued to shout at you in a mixture of Korean and English as your eyes fell on the ground.

Seeing something red and blue from under the packets of money. Ddakji? – “I already told you I was sorry!” – you shouted back at him, shoving his hands off you. He had been grabbing your coat so tight, his knuckles were white. – “You are going to pay for this Ssibal-saekki!”– he called out giving his suitcase a good kick.

It startled you. – “Geumanhae!” – you screamed out wanting him to stop. The man breathed out a laugh. Curling his lips up to a grin. He tugged one hand in his pocket, moving two fingers at your head. Before his fingers could touch your head, you had grabbed for the gun tucked away under your coat.

Pointing it firmly at him. The man only laughed amusingly as if the gun didn’t freak him out. You tried to steady your breathing from the intense moment. – “You sure you can hold that doll?” – he asked touching the tip of your gun. Making you usher out a pant, trying to hold your ground. – “I know who the F* you are!” – you called out.

The man curled up a smirk. – “Do you now darling?” – he responded leaning in closer so that the tip of your gun was pressed against his forehead. It made you blink surprised at how crazy he was. – “Y/n!” – you suddenly heard, making you look away from the man in a suit. Eyes widening at Gi-hun running over.

“Ya!” – he shouted pointing firm at the recruiter. – “Geunyeoleul naebeolyeodwo!” – he yelled out making the recruiter quirk his eyebrow up. Glancing from Gi-hun back to you with an interesting hum. Gi-hun stormed over to you, pulling your gun down. – “Ya! You crazy?” – he called out.

Taking the gun from you. He came standing in front of you. To block the recruiter away from you. – “What is this?” – he wanted to know, hinting at the gun. You lowered your gaze, afraid to look at him. Gi-hun looked over his shoulder for the recruiter, but there was no sight of him. His suitcase gone as well.

“I asked a question!” – Gi-hun fully gave you his attention back. – “I…I’m sorry…” – you sobbed out. You didn’t mean to cry, but it was an honest reaction from the adrenaline leaving your body. It had felt so tense when you actually encountered him, you didn’t know what he was going to do.

Gi-hun exhaled deep hearing your sobs. Already calming himself down. He put the gun away, lowering himself to pick up your phone. – “I’m sorry… I just wanted to protect myself from the recruiter. You told me he was dangerous… I just… I’m sorry…” – you cried out, wiping your upcoming tears away.

Gi-hun closed his eyes for a moment before wrapping his arms around you. – “I’m sorry…” – he responded brushing his hand through your hair. Calming you down. Deep down he felt guilty. That it was his fault for scaring you so much into buying a gun behind his back.

Yet then again he needed to be warningly as the recruiter was not one to play with. – “Gaja, Y/n.” – Gi-hun said wiping some tears away. You nodded as he came to your side. Keeping one arm around you. Escorting you back to the subway to head home. Taking one last glance over your shoulder to see if he was still around. He was not.

A couple of days later you were waiting for Gi-hun to return with take-out. Home alone, you already had set the table. Now roaming around the room mindlessly with nothing else to do but wait. You paced near the window, eyes looking down as it made you do a double-take. Blinking surprised or confused.

The street below lighted up with a few streetlights. A man in a suit standing across the street. Far enough for the light for it to not touch him. His face unrecognizable in the dark. Yet it was clear he wore a suit. One hand tugged in his pocket. Having the uneasy feeling that he was watching you. Looking up to what you were doing.

A shiver went up your spine. The man’s head tilted to the side, letting you for sure know he was watching you. Getting the creeps, you immediately closed the curtains, blocking him out. Holding yourself warmly, you went to sit down. Hoping Gi-hun would return with the take-out rather sooner than later.

The next day you were making your way to the subway. Waiting for the tube to come. Looking up from the ground, you looked at the other platform in front. Eyes widening as you saw him. The recruiter. Standing still. Watching you. The moment he knew you had seen him, he curled up a smile.

A confident nod coming your way. Making you swallow hard, taking a step back. He wasn’t truly here. You were just imagining things. The recruiter tilted his head intrigued. You stumbled back, nearly knocking over another woman. You quickly apologized. Looking back at the platform in front of you. Their subway had arrived. Riding off as the platform was suddenly empty.

No sign of him. Exhaling relieved, you must have sure only dreamt. Your subway arrived as you hopped on. Heading into town. Wandering around after gone to your appointment. You walked through a park, eyes widening when you saw someone familiar sit down.

The recruiter. He curled up a smile, waving charismatically back at you. You immediately turned on your heel to take off. Panting loud to keep in motion. The ringing of your phone made you nearly let out a scream. Taking it out, you looked down. An unknown number calling you. Looking back up from your phone, you started looking around. Turning around to see who could be calling you.

Gaze suddenly stopping at him again. He removed his phone from against his ear with a smug expression. Bringing his finger to his lips. A sign for silence. The caller stopped calling at the same time he put his phone away. Making you stumbled back. This sadistic asshole was stalking you. Enjoying how much he could mess with your head.

You started running. Escaping from his presence. Looking over your shoulder, you saw that he was following you. Keeping his distance and keeping it casual, but definitely following you. A part of you wanted to stop and confront him. Yell at him why he was so obsessed with you. Another part, the loudest part simply wanted to get away from him. You ran into a café where it was crowded.

Running straight for the bathroom to hide in. Hiding in a stall, pulling your feet up to the seat with you. Phone in the ready to call Gi-hun if you needed to. You were about to press the call button when the door opened. Making you jump out of your skin. Footsteps echoing in the bathroom. You covered up your mouth to deafen out your loud breathing.

Squealing soft against your hand when a pair of shoes came in sight. Walking as you begged for them to keep moving. Yet they stopped and turned. Tips pointing forwards. Body shuddering with fear, knowing it was him. Standing in front of your stall. – “Y/n.” – he spoke, saying your name out long and almost melodic. – “You can’t hide from me.” – he spoke in a taunting voice.

It made you pant loud against your hand, hoping so hard he wouldn’t hear you. Then there were chuckles. He must have heard you for there were two gentle knocks on the door. You jumped out of your skin, a muffled yelp screaming against your hand. – “I’d like to play a game.” – he spoke, his voice luringly. – “Gi-hun wouldn’t mind.” – he added to made you shudder even further. You heard a loud sigh.

“Don’t make me break this door down.” – he went on as he hoped you would respond, yet you didn’t. You looked around for a way out but there was none. Eyes falling on the sides. It was worth a shot, but it was risky as well. You silently went down the toilet. Coming to lay low so you could crawl over to the next stall. Simply hoping the recruiter wouldn’t bend down and look underneath the stalls.

You squirmed yourself over to the next stall. Pulling your feet with you. You heard him sigh loud again. Just before a loud sound made you jump out of your skin. The door slamming against the stall as he had kicked it open. He hummed disappointed at an empty stall.

You felt like this was your cue. Shoving the door open and taking a run for it. With rushed footsteps behind you, you ran into the busy café towards the streets. Outside, you took a moment to catch your breath. Heart beating loudly in your chest. Your neck and forehead already glistering with sweat.

Running off once more, you knew he was right behind you. This time he started running as well. Enough of the taunting and teasing. He needed you now. An adrenaline shooting him up like a drug. You squealed loud when he neared. Knowing you couldn’t outrun him forever. Feeling a sudden hand wrap around your wrist like a lock. One pull made you stop, immediately shoved against the wall.

“You are a hard one to catch.” – he said pantingly. You turned your head away from him. – “Let me go!” – you called out squirming against his grip. The recruiter clicked his tongue, swaying his finger in front of you. The way he was staring at you made you swallow nervously.

You should fear him, but you couldn’t deny how extremely hot he was. If he wasn’t such a sadistic asshole, you might have felt flattered that a man was putting in so much effort in you. Specially someone as hot as him. He tilted his head to the side, staring luringly back at you. He brought his face closer to you, making you shudder out a breath. – “You are mine now.” – he whispered in your ear.

Making sure his cheek was in contact with yours. If he wasn’t pressing you against the wall, you thought your knees would give away from under you. Before you knew it he pressed a cloth against your face. Eyes widening as you tried to protest but very soon your body felt weightless. Eyes rolling back as you collapsed into his arms.

Head pounding, you gained consciousness. Blinking slowly to adjust to your surroundings. A vision coming in sight. First a blur till it settled sharper. Eyes widening with a gasp at the sight of the recruiter. – “Hello sleeping beauty.” – he said with a chuckle. Turning your head rapidly, you tried to see where you were. Feeling sudden restraints.

Gaze falling down on your hands tied up to the chair you were sitting in. It made you push against it. Trying to free your hands. The recruiter clicked his tongue, shaking his head at you. He set his hands down on yours, coming to lean in. – “You and I are going to play a game.” – he said. If the devil had a human flesh, it would be him. Shaking your head, you didn’t want to be a part of this. The recruiter pulled away, taking out a gun from his pocket.

It made you freak out, panic that he was going to shoot you in cold blood. He neared once more, shushing you. Patting his hand on your head as you couldn’t stop crying. Shaking your head to have his hand off you. Not wanting him to touch you. He opened the bullet compartment, letting them all drop to the ground. He then bend down to pick one up.

“Russian roulette, I’m sure you are familiar with it.” – he addressed shoving one bullet back in. Spinning it around before locking it back in. He placed the gun in the middle of the table. Returning then back to you. Slowly removing the rope from around your hands. He pressed a hand on your lap, spreading his fingers wide.

“You’ll play with me, wouldn’t you Y/n?” – whispering out, sending a rush through your body. His hand slowly rising up to your inner thigh. You gasped loud making him stop. Curling up a smile. The recruiter stepped away, taking a seat in front of you.

“We’ll each take a turn.” – he said taking the gun on the table. Giving it a good spin. You watched with wide eyes as it spun. Slowing down till it stopped. Gulping loud as it was pointing at you. The recruiter hummed intrigued, coming to lean back. A finger against his lips. Curious to see what you were going to do. – “Go on, take it darling.” – he ushered you.

With trembling hands, you reached for the gun. Letting it drag over the table to your side. Picking it up, it suddenly felt heavy in your grip. The recruiter showed what you had to do by pointing two fingers up against his own head with a grin. Shuddering out a breath you rose the gun up. Pressing the cold tip of it against the side of your head. Closing your eyes, you pulled the trigger. Click.

Eyes opening with a loud gasp. You immediately set the gun down, not wanting it near you again. The recruiter took the gun. Coming to lean over the table. Getting up as close to your face as possible. Wanting you to look at him. Forcing you to look at him as he brought the gun to the side of his face.

Showing you just what kind of psycho he was. One that feared nothing. His cheeks trembled when he pulled. Click. He laughed setting the gun down. Sliding it over to you. His eyes locked on you. Making you unable to look away. The recruiter was slowly pulling away as you slowly got up.

The more he moved his head away, the more you leaned in closer to keep the same distance. The recruiter came sitting down as you had leaned over the table now. Taking the gun from underneath you. Adrenaline shooting through you. Hands trembling with fear that the next one was for you.

That the next one would take you out. The recruiter quirked his eyebrow up when you copied his previous act. Wanting to show him that two could play this game. Placing the gun against your head, you stared back at him. Exhaling deep as your eyes dropped to his lips. Remaining there for a moment till they flashed back up to meet with his eyes.

Something new reflecting in his eyes. Intrigued. Curiosity? You pulled the trigger without a thought. Click. Exhaling long you dropped the gun back to the table. The recruiter tilted his head at you. You were backing away as he set his hands down on the table. Getting up from his seat. His face following your movement.

Keeping you pulled in as his eyes flashed down to your lips. It made you swallow hard. A flush creeping up to your cheeks. If he wasn’t so darn hot. He curled up a smirk as that was your undoing. Forgetting about everything and letting loose, you pressed your lips against. Realizing what you were doing, you pulled away. Breaking off the kiss to move back to your seat.

Yet two firm hands kept you in place. The recruiter grabbing you by your shirt. Tugging hard on you, you nearly knocked over the table as he pulled you close. Eyes staring hungrily at you. The table in between was a real trouble as his lips couldn’t touch yours.

He grunted loud, letting go of you. He flipped the table to the side as it crashed against the wall. You jumped out of your skin, but got grabbed once more. Stumbling forwards as you dropped to your knees. They crashed hard against the ground as he had dropped back into his seat. Cupping your cheeks firmly.

Leaning down to kiss your lips. Hard. Rough. It was sloppy and rushed with eagerness. You blindly set your hands down on his lap, pulling yourself up. He came sitting up straighter, not once breaking the kiss off. Not sure if this was stalling your death, but your body didn’t protest.

For some attraction must have been mutual otherwise he wouldn’t be devouring you so passionately. His hands lowered to your hips. Adjusting you to sit down on his lap. Your legs went around him, sitting comfortably on his lap. His lips retracted from yours for a moment. Panting loud against your lips. His eyes going up from your lips to your eyes. His hand guiding up your cheek, breathing out - “You are mine now.”

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[luvxkdrama]

— obsession

pairing : salesman x reader

warnings : mentions of blood, violence, guns, stalking, manipulation

word count : 6.7 k

summary : “You can run all you want,” he said softly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “But you’ll always end up right where I want you.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, “Because you’re mine, Y/N. And I always take care of what’s mine.”

[obsession] /əbˈsɛʃn/ : an idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a person's mind

—

Life has a special way of pulling a full 180° in the blink of an eye—a truth few dare to believe, yet most dismiss without a second thought.

You weren't one of those who believed in the unpredictable twists of life, as you didn’t consider yourself 'special' enough like the protagonists in movies. Your world revolved around university, and your side jobs after class, providing you with the only sense of reality and moments of social interaction. You were always sort of a loner, as people tended to drift in and out of your life with little permanence.

In your early teenage years, this left a deep impact, especially as you watched other girls surrounded by close friends and romantic relationships, while you spent most of your time alone. It weighed heavily on you for a long time, but over the years, you grew to understand that you didn’t need anyone to be happy—at least, not in the way you once thought. You learned to simply keep moving forward with life.

Winter was your favourite season as you found the streets covered in snow, only lightened by the old street lamps, oddly comforting and peaceful. For this exact reason, late classes never bothered, as your walk home with music in your ears while you observed the snow slowly falling from the sky, felt like a reward.

While everyone was still busy talking after class, you didn't waste a second before picking up your things from your desk and leaving the building, the cold yet fresh air hitting you in the face. After quickly adjusting your bag, you put in your earphones in and tightened your scarf before heading home.

It was the most carefree moment of your day, just you and your music.

Or at least, that's how it used to be.

You would feel it whenever you’re walking down the familiar path, the air would suddenly start to feel colder and you’d instinctively quicken your pace. The sensation was back each evening—an eerie feeling crawling up your spine, as if someone unseen was watching your every step since you stepped outside university to the very last step in front of your house.

It began weeks ago but with time you simply convinced yourself you were paranoid especially since each time you glanced over your shoulder, you were met with an empty street. Though, the uneasy shiver constintently lingered in your head.

You sighed at the new sign in front of you on the pavement. The town’s mayor suddenly had the magnificent idea to reconstruct the street's surfaces, which resulted in blocked streets. You turned to your side and eyed the little, barely lightened alleyway in the corner, which seemed like the only fast option for you to get home.

After concluding that the distance through the alleyway should only take you approximately seven minutes, you took a deep breath and left the main street.

Your eyes were glued to the time on your phone which indicated that three minutes has already passed. The relief instantly turned into fear when a sudden sound of footsteps echoed through the alleyway.

At first, you convinced yourself it was your paranoia once again however your blood ran cold when you heard some low chatters as well.

Without a second to loose, you broke into a sprint, each one of your instincts screaming to get away. To your misfortune, the footsteps behind you quickened almost immediately.

Before you could make it to the next turn, you felt someone harshly pull you back, the strength sending you flying on the hard and cold floor. You winced at the sudden pain across your wrist. After a few seconds, you finally looked up just to be face to face with two older men, staring down at you with the creepiest grin you’ve ever seen.

“We knew this alleyway would come in handy someday.” One of them sneered, the other one nodding along.

“That’s a whole jackpot, man.” The smaller one spoke up, eyeing you up and down.

You sat slumped against the wall, your breath uneven. The two men stood a few feet away, their conversation hushed, but the clinking of a glass bottle and the rustling of a sheet drew your attention. Your eyes darted to the white cloth in the man’s hand, already soaked with a liquid that darkened its edges. Your pulse quickened. Your gaze flicked to your left, catching the glint of an empty beer bottle half-hidden in the shadows.

In one desperate motion, you pushed yourself up and lunged for the bottle. The sudden movement startled them, but only for a second. You grabbed the bottle, your fingers trembling as you smashed it against the brick wall. Glass shards rained around you, one nicking your palm, but you barely felt the sting.

You spun to face them, holding the improvised weapon out, your knuckles white, your breathing ragged.

The two men froze for a beat, their expressions unreadable. Then one of them smirked, slow and deliberate, as though your act of defiance was nothing more than an amusing spectacle. The other stepped forward slightly, tilting his head, curiosity flickering in his dark eyes.

"Bold," the first man said, his voice like gravel. "But you won’t use it."

Your grip tightened, the jagged glass shaking in your hand. You raised it higher, her eyes blazing. “Try me.”

Blood dripped down your wrist now, pooling at your fingertips. The pain should have registered, but it didn’t. All you could feel was the rush of adrenaline and the desperate need to survive.

The second man chuckled, low and humorless. "You’re going to hurt yourself more than us with that thing." He took another step, as though testing your resolve.

“I said don’t come any closer!” You barked, your voice rising to a frantic pitch. Your vision blurred at the edges, panic threatening to consume you, but you forced herself to stand your ground.

Then, a slow, deliberate sound cut through the tension.

A clap.

Your body stiffened, and you instinctively glanced over your shoulder, though you didn’t dare take her eyes completely off the two men. From the shadows at the far end of the alley came the silhouette of another figure. The dim light barely outlined his form, but there was something about the confident way he moved that made the air feel heavier.

The men froze, their smugness faltering.

The figure stepped closer, his polished shoes clicking softly against the concrete. As he passed into the cone of light from a flickering streetlamp, you saw him fully: tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit that fit him like it cost more than your rent.

In one hand, he carried a sleek leather briefcase, but it wasn’t his appearance that sent a chill down your spine—it was the weight of his gaze. He looked at you first, his eyes briefly flicking down to the blood dripping from your hand. Something sharp and dangerous flashed across his expression.

Then his gaze shifted to the two men. His eyes hardened, turning into something deadly.

"You know," he said, his voice low and smooth, yet carrying an undercurrent of menace, "I was not going to let you go easily but,” He took another step forward, unhurried, the lamplight catching the faintest sheen of his cufflinks. “the fact you wasted even a drop of her blood, that, gentlemen, is unforgivable and only leads me to believe you need to pay the highest price for it.” He tilted his head, his jaw tightening.

The smirk on one of the men’s faces disappeared entirely. "Look, we didn’t—"

"Don’t." The man’s voice cut through the air like a blade. He placed his briefcase down on the ground with a deliberate click, straightening as he slid his hands into his pockets. "Save your excuses. I’m not interested."

Your breath hitched as you tightened your grip on the broken bottle, your gaze flicking between the three men. Despite the man in the suit not even looking at you now, you felt the weight of his protection like a shield— and it scared you just as much as it comforted you.

One of the men took a step back, his bravado cracking. "Who the hell are you?" he snapped, though his voice wavered.

The suited man’s lips curled into a humorless smile. "Oh, you’ll find out soon enough."

His gaze flicked to you again, softer this time but still heavy with something unreadable. "Drop the bottle, little one," he said quietly. "You don’t need it anymore."

You hesitated, your chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. But something in his voice, steady and commanding, made your fingers loosen slightly on the jagged glass.

The suited man turned his attention back to the two men, loosening his cuffs as he turned his attention to the two men. “Let’s make this quick, shall we?”

One of the men sneered and lunged first, but it was a mistake. The suited man moved with startling precision, sidestepping with ease before landing a sharp blow to the man’s jaw. The thug crumpled to the ground instantly.

The second man hesitated but swung wildly, aiming for his head. The suited man ducked, his movements fluid and controlled. His fist connected with the man’s ribs, and with a single upward jab to his temple, the second thug dropped like a marionette with its strings cut.

It was over in seconds.

The suited man adjusted his tie and hair as if nothing had happened, his calm demeanor almost unnerving. He stepped over the unconscious bodies, his polished shoes clicking against the concrete as he approached you.

Your grip on the broken bottle tightened again, but before you could say anything, he held up a hand.

“Careful,” he said softly, his eyes flicking to the blood on your hand. “You’re already hurt.”

Your heart pounded, your legs trembling beneath you. You wanted to ask who he was, what he wanted—but the words caught in your throat.

As if sensing your hesitation, he offered you a small, disarming smile. “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, his tone far too casual. “But if I don’t do this, you’ll miss all the fun.”

Your brows furrowed. “What—”

You didn’t even see him move. One moment he was standing in front of you, and the next, you felt a sharp sting at the side of your neck. Your hand flew up instinctively, fingers brushing against a small syringe he’d already pulled away.

Your vision blurred, the alley tilting around her. “What... did you do?” You managed, your voice slurring as your legs gave way.

Your vision darkened, your consciousness slipping away. The last thing you felt was his steady hands cradling you as if you were something fragile.

And then, there was nothing.

──────────────────

A sharp pounding in your skull dragged you back to consciousness. Groaning, you tried to reach up to massage your temple, but your arms wouldn’t move. Panic shot through you as you became fully aware—your wrists were tightly bound to a cold metal chair.

Your eyes snapped open, taking in your surroundings. Dim light. An unfamiliar room. And then your breath hitched.

A few meters ahead of you, the two men who had cornered you in the alley sat slumped in chairs, directly across from each other. They were conscious but visibly shaken, their hands fidgeting nervously as they avoided looking at each other.

Your heart raced as you scanned the room. The polished figure of the man in the suit stepped into view, the faint clack of his expensive shoes echoing in the otherwise silent room. He carried the same briefcase from earlier, but now it was open on a nearby table, its contents hidden from your angle.

“Ah, you’re awake.” His voice was smooth, casual, as if he were greeting an old friend. He turned to you with a smile that made your stomach churn.

Your throat tightened as you yanked at the bindings on your wrists, the rough rope biting into your skin. “Let me go!” You shouted, but your voice cracked, fear taking over.

The suited man ignored you. Instead, he turned to the two men, his expression darkening. “Now, gentlemen, here’s how it works. You’ll play a few rounds of rock-paper-scissors.” His tone was almost cheerful, as if he were explaining a board game. “The loser, unfortunately for them, will take a turn in a nice little game of Russian roulette.”

The two men looked at him in wide-eyed horror. “You’re insane,” one of them spat, though his voice quivered. The man in the suit only chuckled. “Oh, that’s rich coming from someone who thought harassing a woman in an alley was perfectly sane.”

Your heart dropped. Your stomach churned as you yanked harder at the restraints, desperate to get free. “Stop this!” You screamed, your voice raw with panic.

The man’s cold eyes flicked to you. He walked over slowly, tilting his head as if examining you. “We’ll talk later, love. Let me take care of these two first.” he said softly, as if speaking to a child.

“No ! Let me out of here !” Your scream grew louder, shrill and desperate. You weren’t going to let this happen.

The suited man sighed, pulling something from the table behind you. When he turned back, a roll of silver duct tape was in his hand. “You’re really quite loud,” he remarked with a faint smirk “when I say we’ll talk later, we will talk later.” Before you could react, he firmly pressed a strip of tape over your mouth.

You screamed against it, the sound muffled now, as tears began to blur your vision. “There we go,” he said calmly, crouching to your eye level. “Much better. Don’t worry—you’re not the one playing.” He reached out to brush a stray tear from your cheek, his touch gentle in a way that made your stomach twist.

Standing again, he turned back to the two men, his fingers brushed over the revolver, spinning the cylinder slowly, the soft metallic clicks echoing through the room. His voice, smooth and unhurried, cut through the tension.

“You know,” he began, his eyes flicking to you for a fleeting moment before focusing back on the two men, “I’ve been watching her for weeks now. Quiet, diligent, always walking home alone late at night. Completely unaware of the world around her.”

He smiled faintly, almost wistfully. “She never notices the things I do. The way the streetlights flicker just a little too long on that one corner she passes every day. The way her steps quicken when she hears a noise but then slow again because she convinces herself there’s nothing there.” He chuckled softly, the sound devoid of warmth. “So trusting of the silence.”

You froze, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. You thrashed against the ropes, your muffled cries filling the room as you stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Y/N,” he said, tilting his head as he glanced at you. “It’s not as sinister as it sounds.” He gestured vaguely with one hand. “I simply… admired you from afar. I like to keep things orderly, you see. Controlled.”

He turned back to the two men, his smile fading as his expression darkened. “But you two… you ruined everything.” His tone sharpened, dripping with venom. “I had an organized, peaceful plan in place. No harm, no mess. But no. You just had to interfere with your disgusting little game, didn’t you?”

The two men exchanged frantic glances, their fear mounting with every word.

The suited man leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “I was patient. I waited. I followed her, yes, but not with ill intent. I was protecting her. Watching over her. Ensuring no harm came to her.” His voice dipped, colder now. “And then you two decided to drag her into your filthy, selfish world. For what? A moment of power? A sick thrill?”

He straightened, running a hand along the lapel of his suit, his calm exterior returning as if he hadn’t just confessed to weeks of stalking. “And if that wasn’t bad enough,” he continued, his tone now bitter, “you made her hurt herself in the process. Her blood is on your hands.” His eyes flicked to your bandaged palm, and for a brief moment, something unreadable flashed across his face.

He exhaled sharply, as if regaining control of his emotions. “You crossed a line, and now you’ll pay for it.”

He turned the revolver over in his hands, spinning the cylinder again. “Still, I’m a fair man,” he said lightly, his eerie composure returning. “I’m giving you a chance to fight for your lives. Call it... a game of fate.”

He stepped back, gesturing for them to begin. “Alright gentlemen, Rock-paper-scissors. Let’s see which one of you Fate favors tonight.”

You thrashed against the chair, your muffled screams filling the room as the two men looked at each other, their hands trembling.

“Come on now,” he said to the two men, his voice calm but icy. “You don’t want to keep me waiting.”

The two men exchanged panicked glances, their hands trembling as they raised them for the first round of rock-paper-scissors. Their fear was palpable, almost suffocating, but your attention wavered.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you struggled against the ropes, your heart hammering in your chest. Your mind was still reeling from his words.

You had felt it. The chill in the air when you walked home late at night, that unsettling sensation of eyes on you. But you had convinced yourself it was nothing—paranoia, the unease of being alone in the dark. Empty streets.

But now, hearing him speak of it so casually, the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. It was him.

The man in the suit. The one who had saved you, but not because he was some white knight. He had been stalking you. Watching you. Waiting.

Terror gripped you like icy fingers around your throat, the thought of being watched so intimately, without tour knowledge, like a puppet on strings. The idea that you had been under his control all this time, and you hadn’t even known it.

But something else—a feeling you didn’t want to admit—slithered into your thoughts. You had always been alone. Always. No family to speak of. No friends who cared enough to check in. No one who looked out for you.

It had always been you against the world, and the world had never been kind. No one ever stepped in when you were vulnerable. No one ever protected you. You had learned to fend for herself, to be cold and distant, to push people away before they could disappoint you.

But now...

As twisted and sick as it was, this man had done something you had never experienced in her life: he had protected you— in a sick way but still saved you.

His twisted sense of justice, his obsession with keeping you safe—however horrifying it was—was still protection. He was about to punish the men who had tried to hurt you, and in some sick way, he had kept you alive when no one else would.

Your mind recoiled from the realization, the very thought of feeling something in response to him made you sick to your stomach. But deep inside, beneath the fear, a small part of you couldn’t shake the strange, unsettling gratitude that bubbled up.

Your fists clenched in fury, torn between disgust and something you couldn’t quite name. No, you thought fiercely. This is wrong. He’s not saving me. He’s controlling me.

But then your thoughts returned to the dark alley, to the coldness of the men’s eyes, to the knife-edge of danger. And to him. The suited man. The one who had stepped in, the one who had acted.

As much as you hated to admit it, as much as it disgusted you to feel this, there was a part of you that wanted that. Wanted someone to care. Wanted someone to fight for you.

And you weren’t sure how to feel about that.

The room got suffocatingly silent except for the shallow, uneven breaths of the two men. Their trembling hands hovered in front of them, shaking as they raised them for the next round of rock-paper-scissors.

The first round began.

“Rock... paper... scissors.”

One man threw rock, the other paper.

The loser flinched, his face pale as the suited man reached for the revolver and casually pointed it at his temple, a hint of amusement in his sharp, dark eyes.

Click.

The empty chamber echoed louder than any gunshot. The man slumped forward, relief flooding his features as he gasped for air.

The suited man’s expression didn’t change. “Next round.”

The second round came and went.

“Rock... paper... scissors.”

The other man lost this time.

Click.

Another empty chamber.

The suited man sighed, his gaze dropping to the watch on his wrist. “How... tedious,” he muttered.

The third round began.

“Rock... paper... scissors.”

Again, nothing. No gunshots, no blood, just the hollow sound of the revolver’s empty chamber.

You felt your heart pounding so hard it was like it would burst out of your chest. Every click was both a relief and a fresh torment, prolonging the nightmare.

The suited man straightened, his shoulders rolling as if to shake off his growing irritation. He turned toward the men, the smile that had been faintly lingering on his lips finally disappearing.

“This is growing dull,” he said, his voice cold and detached. He stepped closer to the table, placing one hand on the revolver. “It seems fate isn’t in the mood to entertain me tonight. So, let’s... spice things up.”

The two men froze, their fear amplifying as the suited man began calmly sliding bullets into the chambers of the revolver.

“One,” he said softly, pushing the first bullet into place.

Your stomach churned violently.

“Two.”

The suited man didn’t even look at you, his focus entirely on the gun.

“Three. Four.”

He stopped after the fifth bullet, snapping the cylinder back into place with a sharp click. He lifted the revolver and spun it lazily, the sound of the bullets shifting inside somehow more horrifying than the silence.

“There,” he said, his tone almost cheerful as he set the gun back on the table. “Now the rules have changed. The odds of survival aren’t five out of six anymore. They’re one out of six.”

The two men stared at him, their terror now paralyzing.

“Shall we continue?” he asked lightly, though the faint boredom in his tone made it clear he was no longer asking.

The next round began.

“Rock... paper... scissors.”

The loser was trembling so badly while his sobs filled the room as he felt the gun pressed against his temple.

Your entire being screamed for him to stop, to refuse, but the suited man pulled the trigger.

The deafening bang shattered the air.

You froze as the man slumped in his chair, his lifeless body sagging forward. Blood sprayed across the room, staining the floor in violent red streaks.

The suited man didn’t even flinch. He adjusted his cufflinks as if nothing had happened, his gaze slowly turning toward you.

The suited man tilted his head, studying your reaction with mild curiosity. “Hmm,” he said softly, almost to himself. “I thought that might quiet you.”

He moved toward you with calm, measured steps, and your heart pounded harder with each one.

“You’ll understand soon,” he murmured as he crouched to meet your terrified gaze. His voice was low, almost soothing, but his eyes were sharp, unrelenting. “This is justice. This is control. And in time, you’ll come to see how necessary it is.”

His expression was unreadable, though a faint smile played at the corners of his mouth.

He reached for the duct tape covering your lips. “Let’s take this off, shall we?”

He peeled the tape away carefully, almost gently, as if he didn’t want to hurt you. You gasped as the air hit your chapped lips, your breathing ragged and panicked. You jerked your head away from his touch, your eyes burning with tears and fear.

But the suited man didn’t seem bothered by your reaction. Instead, he smiled softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. The unexpected tenderness in the gesture made you flinch.

“You’ve been so brave,” he said quietly, his voice soothing yet chilling. “But I can see the fear in your eyes. Don’t worry. I’m here now. I’ll help you.”

You stared at him, her throat dry. “Please… please stop this,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

His smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “Oh, my dear. It’s already begun.”

Before you could react, he stepped behind you, his hands gripping the back of your chair. The scrape of wood against the floor sent shivers down your spine as he pushed you closer to the remaining man. Your heart pounded wildly, your breaths coming faster.

The man in front of you was shaking, tears streaming down his face as he muttered desperate prayers under his breath. He wouldn’t even meet your eyes, too consumed by his own terror.

Then, you felt it.

Something cold and heavy was pressed into your hand as the ropes on one of your wrists was loosened.

Your fingers instinctively curled around it, but it wasn’t until the suited man’s hands covered yours that you realized what it was. A gun.

“No,” you choked out, trying to pull your hand away. “No, I can’t—”

“Shhh.” His voice was soft, almost tender, as he leaned closer. You could feel his breath against your ear. “You can. And you will.”

He guided your hand, forcing the gun to point directly at the man’s head. His fingers were firm over yours, his grip unyielding.

“Do you know what they would have done to you?” he whispered, his tone darkening.

You froze, her breath hitching.

“They would’ve dragged you to some filthy basement,” he continued, his voice like poison dripping into your ears. “Used you. Hurt you. Made you beg for mercy they would never give. You know that, don’t you?”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you shook your head, your voice cracking. “Stop—please, stop—”

“And then,” he went on, his voice cold and calm, “they’d toss you aside like garbage when they were done. You wouldn’t have survived the night.”

His words twisted in your mind, planting seeds of fear and rage. You hated him for saying it, hated the sickening truth of it, but you couldn’t stop herself from imagining it. The alley. The men. The terror.

“No one would’ve come for you,” he said softly. “No one but me.”

Your breaths came in shallow gasps. Your hands were trembling so hard that the gun wavered, but the suited man’s firm grip steadied it, keeping it aimed at the man’s head.

“I’ve already done the hard part for you,” he murmured. “Now, all you have to do is pull the trigger. Take your revenge.”

“I can’t…” You whispered, shaking her head. “I can’t do it…”

His expression hardened, his patience wearing thin. “Do you think mercy will save him? Do you think letting him go will make him a better person? He won’t stop, Y/N. Men like him never stop.”

The man in the chair sobbed harder, his voice hoarse with fear. “Please, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’ll leave her alone, I swear—”

“Do you hear that?” the suited man hissed, his voice venomous. “Pathetic. He’s begging for his life, just like he would’ve made you beg for yours.”

Your vision blurred with tears. You shook your head again, but your resolve was crumbling. The suited man’s voice was relentless, worming its way into your mind, drowning out everything else.

“I can’t…” you whispered again, her voice barely audible.

“Don't make me wait, Y/N.” he said sharply, his tone now commanding. His grip on your hand tightened.

Before you could react, he pressed down on your finger, forcing it against the trigger.

The gunshot echoed like thunder in the room.

You screamed, the sound ripping from your throat as the man’s lifeless body slumped in the chair. Blood splattered across the floor and your face, the metallic scent filling the air.

The gun slipped from your hand, clattering to the ground as you trembled violently. Your chest heaved with sobs, your mind reeling.

The suited man straightened behind you, his expression calm and composed, as if nothing had happened.

“Bravo,” the suited man said, his voice slicing through your spiraling thoughts. He clapped his hands together slowly, deliberately, as if you’d just performed a flawless symphony. “You’ve taken your first step toward understanding. I’m so proud of you.”

He walked around to stand in front of you, crouching down to meet your tear-streaked gaze. “You did well, my dear. And don’t worry—I’ll take care of everything.” he said softly, brushing his fingers along your cheek.

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. You could only stare at him, your entire body trembling with shock and horror.

His fingers gently tilted your chin up so you couldn’t avoid his piercing gaze. His smile was soft, almost tender, but there was something unrelenting in his eyes. “You’re shaking,” he said softly, “That’s natural. The first time is always the hardest. But you did it, my dear. You stood up for yourself. You took control.”

He sighed, as if sensing your silence was not out of gratitude but out of pure, unfiltered shock. Straightening to his full height, his hands moved to the ropes binding you to the chair.

“I’m going to untie you now,” he said casually, as if you were discussing nothing more than an evening stroll. “But listen to me carefully, Y/N.”

His voice hardened, his tone dropping to something sharp and dangerous.

“Do not run.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding violently in your chest.

“I’ll warn you once,” he said in a low, icy whisper. “Not twice.”

The tension in the room was suffocating as he loosened the knots, and you felt the pressure on your wrists and ankles ease. The moment the ropes fell away, your instincts screamed at you to move.

You didn’t hesitate.

The second you were free, you bolted, ignoring the ache in your limbs and the burn in your lungs. You didn’t care where you were going—you just needed to get away from him.

The building was old and labyrinthine, the narrow hallways dimly lit by flickering bulbs. Door after door lined the walls, but every knob you twisted refused to budge. Your breaths came in panicked gasps as you stumbled forward, adrenaline fueling your desperate escape.

Finally, at the end of the hallway, you saw it: a door different from the others. It was larger, its frame sturdier, and unlike the others, it didn’t have the peeling paint or rusted hinges. It had to lead somewhere.

You sprinted toward it, your heart hammering in your chest. Your fingers barely brushed the doorknob when—

Bang!

You were slammed against the door with enough force to knock the breath out of you. A startled cry escaped your lips as you felt a firm hand on your shoulder, spinning you around. Your back pressed hard against the cold surface, and you were face to face with him once more.

The suited man loomed over you, his expression calm but his eyes blazing with a dangerous intensity. His hands rested on either side of you, boxing you in.

“I told you not to run,” he said softly, his voice calm but carrying a sharp edge that sent shivers down your spine.

Your chest heaved as you stared up at him, your pulse racing. “Please—” you gasped, your voice breaking. “Just let me go!”

He tilted his head slightly, studying you with that same unsettling, calculated gaze. Then he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Go?” he echoed, his tone almost amused. “After everything we’ve been through tonight? After I’ve gone to such lengths to teach you an important lesson?”

Your hands trembled at your sides, your fight-or-flight instincts screaming for you to keep struggling, to push him away, to do something. But his presence was overwhelming, suffocating, and your body felt rooted to the spot.

“You can run all you want,” he said softly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “But you’ll always end up right where I want you.”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, “Because you’re mine, Y/N. And I always take care of what’s mine.”

“There’s no running away anymore,” he continued quietly, his tone final, as if it were a simple statement of fact.

Your lips trembled, your voice breaking as you finally managed to speak. “W-Why me?”

He paused, tilting his head slightly, as if your question intrigued him.

“What do you mean, why you?” he asked softly, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your fear bubbling into frustration. “Why are you doing this? Why did you—why did you choose me?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. He simply studied you, his piercing gaze roaming your face as if searching for something. Then, slowly, a faint smile tugged at his lips.

“Do you remember the day you fell?” he asked, his voice smooth and quiet, as if he were recalling a fond memory.

You blinked, your mind reeling. “What?”

“In the park,” he continued, his tone almost gentle now. “A man running past knocked you down. You fell hard—scraped your hands, tore your jeans.” He chuckled softly, almost nostalgically. “You looked so startled. Like you couldn’t believe the world could be that cruel to you.”

Your heart sank as the memory surfaced in your mind. You remembered it vividly now—a busy afternoon at the park, the sting of gravel biting into your palms, the burn of embarrassment as strangers walked past without a second glance. But one person had stopped.

“You…” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “You were there.”

He nodded, his smile widening. “I was.”

“You helped me up…”

“And when I did,” he said, leaning in closer, “I saw something in you. Something different. Something I liked.”

Your chest tightened, your breath catching in your throat. “What… what did you see?”

His eyes darkened, his expression soft yet deeply unsettling. “You looked… lost. Like you didn’t belong anywhere. Like you didn’t even expect someone to help you. And I thought to myself, ‘She’s perfect.’”

Your stomach churned, dread coiling tightly around your chest. “That’s it?” she whispered, your voice trembling. “That’s why you… why you’ve been following me?”

He chuckled again, the sound low and unnerving. “Does it matter?” he said lightly. “I made a choice that day. I promised myself I’d make you mine. And here we are.”

“But…” Your voice cracked, your fear and confusion spilling over. “It could’ve been anyone, couldn’t it? Anyone who fell, anyone who—”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug, cutting you off. “But it wasn’t anyone. It was you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, their weight sinking into you like lead. The ease with which he dismissed your individuality, the casual indifference of his reasoning—it was more terrifying than anything else.

“Call it fate,” he said, his tone almost playful now. “Call it chance. Either way, I’m not one to waste an opportunity when it presents itself. And you, my dear… you were an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”

He straightened, his smile softening as his hand brushed your cheek.

Your head snapped up, “So what? You’ll keep me as your prisoner?”

He tilted his head, his lips curling into a faint smile. “Prisoner? No, no. You misunderstand. This isn’t about taking anything from you. It’s about giving you something you’ve never had.”

You stared at him, your brows furrowed.

“You’ve spent your whole life alone, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice low and almost sympathetic. “No friends. No one to lean on. No one to protect you.”

“I saw it the day we met,” he continued, his tone softening. “You were surrounded by people, but you might as well have been invisible. No one cared enough to help you when you fell. No one even noticed. But I did. I noticed you, Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I’ll never stop noticing you. I’ll never stop protecting you. Because you don’t need the world. You don’t need anyone but me.”

You stared at him, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His words echoed in your mind, weaving through your thoughts like a siren’s song, drowning out the rational voice screaming at you to fight, to resist.

Your entire life had been spent searching for someone to notice you, to care, to see you. And now, standing before you, was someone who had done all of that—even if it was in the most twisted and terrifying way imaginable.

Your lips parted, trembling as you tried to find something to say, anything that could defy the pull of his gaze, the weight of his words. But you couldn’t. You were tired. Tired of running, tired of fighting, tired of being alone.

And for the first time, someone wasn’t letting you go.

“I…” Your voice faltered, barely above a whisper. “I’ll… stay.”

The words tasted foreign on your tongue, and yet, the moment they left your lips, a dark satisfaction flickered across his face. He stepped closer, his movements fluid and deliberate, until he was so close you could feel the heat radiating from him.

“Say it again,” he murmured, his voice low and intoxicating.

“I’ll stay,” you whispered, barely audible, your voice shaking as your walls began to crumble.

His thumb slid across your bottom lip, and his smile softened, though the dark intensity in his eyes remained.

Before you could react, his lips captured yours, gentle at first, as though testing your resolve. You froze, your body stiff, but as his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, something inside you broke. The warmth of his touch, the way his lips moved against yours—it was too much, too overwhelming.

And so, you let yourself fall.

Your hands hesitantly reached for him, gripping the fabric of his suit jacket as you kissed him back, your movements unsteady and unsure. He deepened the kiss, his control unyielding, as if claiming you with every brush of his lips.

When he pulled back slightly, your breaths mingling in the small space between you, he whispered, “You’ll see, Y/N. You won’t need anyone else. Not when you have me.”

A shiver ran down your spine as his hand trailed down your arm, his touch light but deliberate. He guided you gently toward another room which had a completely different atmosphere. A high ceiling decorated by a beautiful chandelier and a king sized bed, neatly dressed.

When the backs of your knees hit the edge of the mattress, you sat down, your heart pounding in your chest as he knelt before you. His movements slow, giving you every chance to pull away.

But you didn’t.

His hands found your thighs, his touch warm and firm as he looked up at you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“You’re mine now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Let me show you what that means.”

Your mind screamed at you to stop, to push him away, but your body betrayed you, your hands sliding into his hair as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck.

His hands roamed your body with practiced ease, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment. And as his lips traced a path down your skin, you felt yourself slipping further into his control, your resolve crumbling with every kiss, every touch.

For the first time in your life, someone had made you feel seen, wanted, protected—even if it was twisted and wrong.

And so, as you let him guide you into the dark embrace of his world, you made a silent promise to herself.

You would stay.

For now.

[backlacepistols]

I personally didnt expect to post squid games either okay but they got me

[001sslut]

— presentation post

“ fly me to the moon

and let me play

among the stars… „

hello! i’m 001sslut and i will be writing fanfics about squid game season 1 and 2! <3

will do: smut, fluff, angst, queer pairings, canon x canon (if i like the ship, if i don’t i’ll explain why), requests (EVENTUALLY)

won’t do: incest, noncon, ageplay, scat or piss kink, dead dove do not eat

will write for:

- Hwang In-ho/Oh Young-Il/Frontman (smut,fluff,angst) ☆

- Guards (smut,fluff,angst)

- Seong Gi-hun (smut,fluff,angst) ☆

- Cho Sang-woo (smut,fluff,angst)

- Recruiter (smut,fluff,angst)

☆: mains

(i’ll maybe open up to more characters in the future)

masterlist — ao3 — wattpad (coming soon..)

i won’t really have an upload schedule, but i’ll try to be consistent!

byebye <3

[stefanstenace]

The roulette

[sanan4s]

posting this here asw cuz it flopped on tt;(

[inhogf]

Gong Yoo nsfw headcanons ♡

· contains: purely nsfw, gun-play, he has a thing for your period UMM · note: its like 5 am but i HAD to post this

·⠀The Salesman/Gong Yoo's not the type to call you ‘baby, princess, honey’ during sex. no; his dignity is higher than that. he'd be more of a name user or would call you his ‘slut, whore, bitch’.

·⠀barely has personal preference for positions, as long as he’s in full control. just as eager to have you ride him as he is to flip you over. just as long as he's inside you. big fan of face fucking though! holds your hair as you're doing it :3

·⠀has a libido bigger than his dick. practically using you almost every night as his sex doll; his stress relieve toy. makes sure to use you till the last drop when he finally gets his hands on you, due to the disappointingly lack of free time to sate his urges w/ you. has a shocking amount of stamina too :3. he definitely initiates things more than you do. he's suuuchhh a horny little boy for you OMDSSSS.

·⠀not a surprise but he's totally into gun play— fucks u w/ his glock, adoring the expression you make as he thrusts every single length of the gun into your pussy. holds his gun against your temple as he makes you bounce on his dick, getting off to your increasing fear. may even shoot a single bullet across the room to show you that the one against your skull is still functional and still a threat to your well-being.

·⠀i feel like he'd have a fetish for periods. doesn't like eating you out but as soon as he finds out you're menstruating, he'd BEG you to let him give you head and always find a way into your pants strategically. keeps a tight grip on your waist to hold you against his mouth ♡ & the mere smell of your blood is enough to get his dick sprung up.

·⠀this MIGHT be controversial but he'd be the type to beg you to send him nudes of your bare body. especially when he's out at work. his gallery is all pictures of your body and he's always shamelessly scrolling through them— palming away vigorously at his dick, wishing it was your mouth wrapped around his tip instead.

·⠀he's 100% a moaner. not high and squeaky moans, low ones; groans low enough only for you to hear. very vocal and mouthy, he's not scared to let you know how much of a good job you're doing, how pretty and fuckable you look doing it.

·⠀he's sooo harsh with you, spanking you on your plump ass until there's a visible red handprint, manhandling your hips off the bed to get a good angle to fuck, slapping your face every chance he gets. he's so mean.

·⠀he's big on degrading, is talking shit any chance he gets. “you can't even take me properly, useless little thing.“ and he's soo mean and criticizes every move you make. by the end of it all you’ll be nodding with tears streaming down your face (he gets off to it), lost to the pleasure he’s giving you and only able to apologise for being such a pathetic and stupid little baby!

·⠀owns multiple toys— gags (dog bone gags to be specific), ropes, blindfolds, vibrators, beads, dildos, you name it. he's a spender. ties you up with his ropes to feel the control that he craves so much.

cr @inhogf dont steal

[greengoblinswifey]

Fatal Attraction II

pairing— The Salesman x Recruiter!Reader

summary— You and the Salesman navigate your undeniable attraction that has boiled over despite the consequences. You soon discover the reason for dread consuming you since the moment you decided to break the rules with the Salesman.

warnings— sexual tension, flirting, manipulation, nipple play, choking, fingering, hair pulling, oral(f&m receiving), praise kink, fluff, L bombs, death, mentions of blood, grief, angst.

a/n— last part! hope you guys enjoyed this, ik I did!

Part I

Dread and Desire. It seemed as though those two words were all that you knew the last few days. The last few days after your—interesting encounter with the Salesman. An encounter that had been building until the dam burst and would surely burst again. Just like the before, it was only a matter of time. His desire coupled with yours would fuel you but your dread overpowered all else.

It was no wonder there were studies showing women had more survival instincts than men. That women had deep intuition you believed was never wrong. You should’ve known something like this would happen—you knew you would pay the consequences but not like this.

Your curls cascading down your back flowed in the wind as you toyed with the expensive gold ring on your index finger. It was the first piece of jewelry the Salesman had ever gifted you. It signified the first time you had gotten recruits for the Squid Game. Gifting you the ring was his way of showing his appreciation and admiration, but now—it signified everything that terrified you.

An old and poorly clothed man groaning on a nearby park bench snapped you out of your deep thought. You needed to stay focused. That was the entire reason you opted to go about your recruitments in a different location than the Salesman. He took the subway station while you took the park. The sun was good for you anyway, it made you stay positive and highlighted the mahogany of your skin, capturing potential recruits’ attention.

The tight dressed hugged your figure as your hips swayed when you walked over to the man. He immediately shot up from the bench, your presence certainly commanding attention. You didn’t even need to speak first, he was already serving himself on a silver platter.

He looked you up and down, eyes roaming over your stocking-clad feet then coming back up to rest on your chest. “Well, hello gorgeous,” he said, his tone making you roll your eyes internally.

“Good morning sir. I couldn’t help but notice you sitting here all alone on this bench. Life hasn’t been treating you well, has it?” you asked.

A smirk tugged at his dry lips and he stared up at you as though your presence single-handedly turned his life around. “It hasn’t, but I bet it’ll get a whole lot better with you in it.”

You chuckled, strained but sweetly. This was too easy. “Partially. Here, take this card and your life will transform.”

He held on to every word as you manipulatively explained the game and the possibility of a hefty prize fund. As soon as you were finished, he thanked you profusely, even having the audacity to ask you for your number. Did he even have a phone?

By then, you had gotten enough recruits to call it a day. Sighing, you pulled out your phone to text the Salesman to inform him to pick you up as the day’s recruitment concluded. Within a few minutes, you exited the park and he pulled up at your feet.

This was another thing you dreaded—being alone in the car with him. The enclosed space made the tension even more palpable and you would try your best to avoid looking at him but each time you saw him out of the corner of your eye—he was already staring. His desire ran deep—fuck the rules. He needed you. You were his dream woman.

You buckled your seatbelt and kept your head straight, staring out the windshield as the car peeled away. You could sense he wanted to say something but he held back. Knowing you, you would’ve crashed the car killing you both to avoid any further discussion about the incident.

God—the incident. No matter how much you dreaded the consequences, you hadn’t stop thinking about it. Hadn’t stopped desiring more. The way he held your hips as you slowly moved back and forth on his thigh. The way his fingers tangled in your curls as you kissed ferociously. The way he called you a good girl as you slowly moved on his thigh. Your legs clenched instinctively—you needed more.

Maybe if you had gone all the way, had him fuck you right then and there, you wouldn’t be this needy. Maybe then the desire would fade away as the intensity of your connection finally reached its peak. It was probably delusion, you knew you’d end up desiring even more, and then if anyone found out, if the Front Man found out—

You gasped at the thought and the Salesman darted his gaze to you. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Still staring straight ahead you cleared your throat and nodded, though it wasn’t convincing.

He sighed, taking a hand off the steering wheel and running it through his silky hair. God—his hair. The same hair your fingers tangled in as he kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed to breathe.

“You’re still thinking about it aren’t you? And don’t lie, I know you are.” His grip on the steering wheel tightened as you approached your destination. “I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you and he won’t find out. Believe me.”

You wanted to believe him, you really did—hell maybe you did believe him. It was just that pang of dread you couldn’t shake, no matter how you tried.

“I’ve never seen you like this. I’ve never seen us like this. Please just believe me,” he pleaded, driving into the parking lot.

“You know what, you’re right.” You turned to look at him—actually look at him for the first time in a couple days. He looked as handsome as the day you met. Tailored suit fitting his large frame, dark hair tousled and that chiseled face you’d give anything to have between your legs.

“There she is,” a smiled tugged at the corner of his lips. A smile that could drop anyone’s panties.

“I’m not a woman of fear. I go after what I want and I always get what I want,” you murmured, your usual confidence laced in your tone.

“And what you want is me,” he interjected.

“Don’t flatter yourself. And let’s just sleep on this,” you retorted.

He opened the apartment door trailing behind you. You could feel his eyes on your ass as you slipped off your red bottoms. As you reached down to remove the other shoe, you felt his hands on your waist roaming until he reached down to your feet. Against your better judgment, you leaned into his touch and allowed him to slip off the other shoe.

His nose nuzzled in your neck, inhaling slowly and humming in content. “You always smell so good.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as his nose was replaced with his lips, pressing small kisses against your neck. You melted into his touch, small whimpers leaving your lips as he began sucking on the sensitive skin.

“God. I missed those moans.” His praise snapped you out of your trance and you pushed him away.

“Well, keep missing them.” You rolled your eyes and pulled away from him leaving him shaking his head.

“And she’s back,” he said trailing behind you.

His breath hitched watching intently as you slipped off your dress, leaving you in your matching bra and thong and the stocking gracing your long legs. Reaching behind, you unclasped your bra turned only your head. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

He was a flustered mess, cheeks growing a rosy red. His eyes were still trained on you, enveloped in the same trance potential recruits would be caught up in. His eyes roamed your back, capturing a mental picture of how your ass moved, the way your curls bounced and the delicate angel wings tattoo on your lower back.

“You’re stunning,” he whispered, now behind you.

You didn’t even turn to look at him, instead, you pulled him by his tie, bringing him into the bathroom and locking the door behind you.

“You’re just torturing me at this point,” he huffed.

You finally turned around, your hard nipples on display. Looking down, you could see his prominent bulge. Hard and surely painful.

“What do you mean? I’m just saving water,” You shrugged him off and bent over, your pussy on full display as you took off your thong. You heard him gasp, his breath caught in his throat at the sight before him.

“Fucking hell. You’re such a temptress, so beautiful,” he ragged, trying to catch his breath.

You made your way into the shower before turning to look at him. “Aren’t you going to join me? I don’t usually give these offer out just like that.”

He nodded frantically, hurriedly stripping himself of his suit and undergarments.

There stood before you in all his glory was the Salesman. His body was toned, just as you expected but as your eyes trailed down, you caught sight of the deep V line followed by his very hard length. You could see the pre cum glistening from the pink tip and the long vein bulging from the light colored shaft.

He was everything you expected and more.

“See something you like?” His deep voice finally broke the silence and you just rolled your eyes, gesturing for him to accompany you in the shower.

The warm water reflected the heat between you and a content sigh left your lips as the water soaked your body. He was tense behind you, unsure of how to proceed, watching intently as you used your soapy rag to scour yourself.

You turned to face him, his cheeks heating up and he bit his lip, watching as you fondled your soapy tits. Your hands trailed down, covering your pelvis in soap then back up to your tits, groping them seductively.

“I’ve had enough of your shit.” The Salesman held your throat firmly but gently, pushing you against the shower wall. Your chest heaved as his eyes raked over you like a man possessed. “I’m sick of your games. I need you Y/N. I fucking need you. Get it through that pretty little that I don’t care about whatever rules were issued to us—whatever consequences. All I care about is you. Having you in my arms, feeling your body against mine.”

You were speechless, the same way he had you before. It was as though he put his own spell on you. “I’m in love with you. No rules, no consequences, nothing will come between that.”

He was in love with you. Your heart beat faster, threatening to tear away from your chest. No one had ever felt so deeply about you before. So deeply that they could care less about their potential demise.

Dread was at the forefront of your thoughts but desire consumed you. Your lips crashed together in a steamy kiss filled with emotion. His fingers tangled in your curls and yours in his damp silky hair, pulling each other closer than you already were. His body was now soapy as you ground against him, teeth clashing in the deep kiss and tongues battling for dominance.

When he finally pulled away he cupped your cheeks, staring into your eyes. “I can’t resist you any longer. Your very being consumes me. Please, let me have you.” The look in his eyes, pleading, told you everything you needed to know if his words hadn’t already.

“Take me.” At the sound of your voice the Salesman’s lips pressed against yours once more, this kiss somehow deeper than the last. His lips traveled down, nipping at the sensitive skin on your neck, hands groping your soapy tits, tugging at your nipples that were hardened.

“Every inch of you is beautiful.” He used the rag soaked with water to wash the soap from your chest before his tongue slid across your nipples. He suckled and bit down gently making your back arch from the wall and your knees wobble. His lips traveled lower, kissing your abdomen, licking your pelvis then he he fell to his knees.

“Can I taste you sweetheart?”

You slowly nodded your head, breath heaving at the sight of him on his knees for you.

“Use your words,” he said.

“Taste me. Please.” Your voice was thick with desire and you had no intention of hiding it any longer.

With your permission, the Salesman spread your legs apart, dipping his head into your pussy. His lips captured your clit, sucking and flicking as you tried to remain composed. “You—fuck, you taste better than I could ever imagine.” His praises somehow made you even wetter and he continued lapping at your juices like a man starved.

He was relentless, tongue flattening against your pussy before it slipped inside your hole. You clamped around it, your head falling against the shower walls. His hands were firm on your thigh, holding you steady as your legs shook. “You’re so wet, sweetheart, really enjoying this aren’t you?” he muttered, staring up at you.

“So so much, don’t stop.” His movements increased and he buried his face into your pussy, savoring your taste as you squirmed above him and moaned loudly. He moaned feeling your pussy clench around his tongue, the vibration sending ripples of pleasure throughout your body.

“That’s it. Cum for me, cum on my tongue,” he growled.

Your back arched off the wall and you squirmed above him as your juices spurted from your pussy and onto his tongue.

“Good girl, that’s it baby,” he cooed, drawing the last bit of liquid from you.

He stood up and you leaned against him, your legs turning to jelly after the ordeal. A smug smirk plastered on his face and seeing as you were practically helpless, he finished bathing you. His touch was gentle—intimate, as he washed every inch of your body thoroughly. When he finished, he planted a kiss on your forehead before wrapping you in a towel and carrying you to the bedroom.

“You really didn’t have to,” you murmured, watching intently as he gathered the products he knew you used on your skin.

He squeezed some cocoa butter in his hands, lathering your damp skin with it and inhaling the pleasant scent. “I like taking care of you, just in case you hadn’t noticed.”

It was refreshing to be taken care of. To be seen. Having spent so much time together, he knew the minuscule things about you, like the products you used after a shower. It was so intimate and made you feel actually loved. For the first time you let your walls down, you were still that seductress, but with him, you were just you. Not putting on a show to recruit players. He saw you for who you truly were.

All those days spent recruiting together built to this—it was unexpected, in the best way possible.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a slow kiss. It was tentative then he moved against your lips like you were something fragile. “I need you,” you pleaded, pulling back just enough to stare into his eyes.

He smiled at you, rubbing your thigh before his fingers found your dripping pussy. “Wet again, sweetheart? Fine, I’ll give my good girl what she’s been craving.” His lips found yours again and he slipped two fingers inside your pussy. You moaned into the kiss as he pumped his fingers steadily, curling them until they found the spot that made you squirm.

“You’re so tight baby. You really needed this.” You certainly did. As his fingers thrusted inside your heat, a thumb began rubbing rough circles on your clit and that was enough to have you convulsing.

Your fingers clawed his back as an intense orgasm washed over you, loud whimpers leaving your lips. “Good girl. Such a good fucking girl soaking my fingers like that.” He brought his fingers up to your mouth and you slowly took them in. Your tongue swirled around them, your eyes half lidded and bobbing your head as you seductively sucked.

“That fucking mouth, wow,” he breathed, “does that mean—”

His words were cut off by you sliding down the bed and taking ahold of his hard, long cock. Your hands almost looked small compared to it. He whimpered as you stroked him slowly before moving lower to cup and caress his balls.

“No teasing baby, please. I’ve waited too long for this,” he rasped.

“Yeah? Well beg me to suck your cock.” You were taking control again.

Without missing a beat, he did as he was told. “Please suck my cock, sweetheart. I need that pretty little mouth wrapped around me.”

You chuckled softly, leaning forward to press a kiss to his tip before taking him into your mouth. The size of him stretched your lips as you moved down slowly, letting him feel everything. His breath caught, and when you glanced up at him through your long lashes, his eyes were locked on yours. His mouth hung open, and your curls framing your face made the sight of you almost too much for him to handle.

You took his cock out with a pop before taking him deeper, your pace quickening as you worked him over. His hips bucked slightly, his whimpers turning into loud moans. “Oh, God—baby, you’re so good at this. I won’t last,” he stammered, his body trembling as you deep throated him. Your hand moved in sync with your mouth, your fingers grazing his sensitive skin.

You felt his balls tighten so you pushed the tip to the back of your throat and finally, he shuddered, releasing in a rush. He practically exploded in your mouth, ropes of cum going down your throat and as you eased him out of your mouth, he spurted all over your chest. His body trembled as he murmured soft, almost dazed thanks. You leaned up to kiss him, your hand in his hair as he whispered, “Thank you sweetheart. You’re fucking amazing.”

He kissed you once more relishing in the taste of his cum on your tongue before he flipped you so he was on top.

“Now, it’s your turn to beg. Beg me to fuck you.” If it was any other man you would’ve cursed him out and left but the Salesman had a strong hold on you.

“Please fuck me. Hard. I need your cock so bad.” Your pleads made him hard again and he used the tip to drag along your puffy lips. Slowly, he sank into you, but halted, allowing your tight pussy to adjust to his size.

“Oh God,” you gasped, as he took your breath away. “You’re so big.”

“I know baby, I know. But you can take it, you were made for my cock.”

Hs slammed into you, his pace steady as you adjusted and he buried his cock to the hilt. Your moans filled the room as he then began moving with a pace that had your toes curling and your red nails digging into his muscular back.

He pounded into you as though he was proving a point, your pussy was sure to remember the shape of his cock. You could feel him deep inside your cervix and as you looked down, you saw the faint outline of his cock moving inside you. His large hand snaked around your neck as your foreheads touched, small trickles of sweat mingling. He worked his hips into you, your mouth in an ‘O’ as you breathlessly moaned with him slamming into you.

“You feel so fucking good. So tight. So perfect. I fucking love you and this pussy,” he panted.

You cried out in response and he pulled out his cock, slapping the heavy tip on your clit making you jolt. As soon as it made contact with your clit, you squirted, your juices spurting all over his cock and abdomen.

“Good fucking girl,” he praised, leaning down to kiss you and then your tits.

He didn’t give you time to breathe. Instead, he flipped your almost limp body onto your back then brought your ass up to him. You arched your back, and gasped as you felt his cock probe your quivering pussy. You were so sensitive.

He sank into you from behind and slapped your ass making you moan.

“Oh my God,” he gasped, snapping his hips against you. “You should see how fucking beautiful you look from this angle. This ass, that tattoo, your pussy just clenching around my cock. Wow.”

You whimpered loudly at his praises and did your best to please him, slamming your ass back against him, his cock brushing that sweet spot deep inside you.

“Just like that baby, you’re doing so well,” he groaned. His fingers tangled gently in your curls, bringing you back so you were arching off him.

“Feels so fucking good. You’re so deep, m’gonna cum,” you cried out.

He reached in front, rubbing your clit and sending bolts of pleasure through you. “Cum for me then, squirt on my cock.”

Your body sagged against him and you cried out as you shuddered, squirting around him, your arousal dripping down to the sheets. His pace faltered and his own release washed over him. You were still cumming as you felt his hot load fill you up and he collapsed onto the bed with his arms around you.

As the high faded, exhaustion washed over you. He retreated to the bathroom then brought a towel to clean you up. He cleaned between your legs and chest with precision then lay beside you, pulling you into his big arms.

“That was amazing,” he beamed.

You snuggled into him and smiled, though the feeling of dread came once more. What was wrong with you?

“You’re amazing,” you said, kissing his chest.

You melted into him, savoring the moment as he held you close as though you would slip away. You had never felt this way about anyone—much less have them feel that way about you too. Soon, you drifted off to sleep, another day of recruiting was on the horizon.

The next morning, you woke up content, though the feeling of dread felt even closer now but you brushed it off. You and the Salesman got ready with him unable to keep his hands off you the entire morning.

“We have to be out soon, mm—calm down,” you giggled, the Salesman pressing kisses on your neck from behind.

He held his hands up defensively then laughed, lacing your hands with his as you exited the apartment.

As he locked the door behind him, there was a card with the Squid Game logo on it. At first, you thought a recruit had stalked you to give you back the card but as you both read what was on it, your heart fell.

“You didn’t think I’d find out, did you? There will be dire consequences for your actions. You have been eliminated.”

The last words sent a ripple through you. Those were the exact words that would be uttered to players before they were killed. The Salesman sensed your fear and wrapped his arms around you, your face burying into his chest.

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.” The sentiment calmed you down and you nodded allowing him to comfort you.

The day was nothing short of chaotic with the Salesman switching it up a bit. You were still on edge so you allowed him to be in his element. He baited vagrants with lottery tickets and bread, giving them the choice to choose either, not both. When the majority of the vagrants choose the lottery tickets and then lost, he destroyed the bread they rejected, stomping all over them like he had lost his mind.

You held back a giggle at the horrified faces of the potential recruits, sitting perched on a park bench watching the entertaining scene unfold. After a partially successful recruitment session, you decided to call it a day. Your contentment for the day’s activities didn’t last long as you couldn’t shake the feeling of being followed.

“Stay at the apartment. I have something I need to deal with,” the Salesman said sternly as you relayed your concerns to him.

His tone left no room for defiance so you obediently went into the apartment, tossing the card that was still pasted on the door into the trash.

There it was again. That feeling of dread, and maybe now, it was impending doom. Something was seriously wrong and all you could do was pace the apartment trying to ease the feeling.

Hours passed with no word from the Salesman until a message was sent. A simple location. You sighed in relief, wondering what was going on but decided to ask all the questions when you arrived. You drove there, punching in the address of a shabby hotel you wouldn’t be caught dead in under any other circumstance.

Your legs shook as you slowly made your way up the dark stairwell. The Salesman had made sure to give you the room number. You wondered why he hadn’t just come out to meet you. All this was unlike him but he wouldn’t lead you in any danger. If anything, he probably had a few recruits lined up.

Your heels clicked softly as you walked through the hallway then came to a halt in front of the door. As you entered, you caught the end of a conversation.

“We'll take turns pulling the trigger without spinning the culinder again. The bullet will be fired within six attempts, and the game will be over. What do you say?”

Your heart dropped. You bent the corner, eyes wide.

A slightly older, tired looking man turned around just as the Salesman looked up at you.

“Who the hell are you?” the man asked, expression unreadable.

“What are you doing here?” the Salesman added, and you opted to answer him.

“I- I got your message to come here. What’s going on?”

The look on the Salesman’s face made fear course through your veins. He was horrified. He looked down at the gun, hands slightly shaking but his expression was replaced with a sly smile. Inside though, he was crumbling. This was all part of the grand plan. A sick plan orchestrated by his superiors—by the Front man.

Gi-Hun might’ve thought he was slick but he was a pawn in this game. You all were. This was the consequence and he couldn’t back down.

He mouthed an “I love you”, one that you caught and it left you terrified. Why was he telling you that he loved you like it was the last time? Why would he tell you that in the middle of a game? And why was the game involving a loaded gun? Who had sent the message, because it clearly wasn’t him.

You watched in horror as both men survived the game twice during which the Salesman sadistically toyed with the man. Before he shot the fifth round which you realized left him only a 50% chance of surviving, the Salesman taunted the man, baiting him to cheat and shoot him instead. Your mind was clouded, words and comprehension leaving you as you watched the twisted scene unfold.

This was it. This was the consequence, and the dread you felt reached an all time high.

The older man didn’t take the bait and put the gun to his own head, and to yours and the Salesman’s shock, he survived when he pulled the trigger. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest, your palms growing sweaty as you came to a sudden realization. But there was nothing you could do. This was ordained the moment the organizers found out you had broken the one rule you were given.

“Any and all relations between recruiters are strictly prohibited. If breached there will be dire consequences—elimination.”

The man then repeated the Salesman’s haunting words to him, challenging him to cheat and shoot him dead—just as he was taunted before. He lost—the Salesman had lost the game and there was nothing either of you could do.

With shaky hands, he held the gun under his chin and tears flooded your eyes. You stood frozen in place, hand covering your mouth unable to move or speak. His gaze darted to yours, a look in his eyes you didn’t recognize and then he pulled the trigger.

Your blood curdling scream was almost as loud as the gun. The Salesman’s blood splattered across the wall as he shot a hole in his head. You fell to your knees, crawling over to him, clutching and shaking his already dead body.

You didn’t care that the other man was staring at you as you screamed and sobbed.

“No! No, please no!” you cried, your hands shaking the Salesman’s lifeless body. “No! No!”

You buried your face in his thigh, your usually freshly done makeup streaming down your cheeks with your tears. Your heart ached—he was the only one that made you remember you had a heart. The only one that made you feel loved and cared for. The only man to ever tell you he loved you and mean it. You hadn’t even said it back.

“I love you! There, I said it! Please, no! No!” you sobbed.

You chanted I love you like those were the only three words you knew. But no amount of declaring your love for him would bring him back. His consequence was death, an eternity without you. And yours was witnessing his demise and a lifetime without him.

This was your consequence. Dread had consumed desire and death reigned supreme.

[voxslays]

HIS ESCAPE — THE SALESMAN

☘︎ It wasn’t long ago the salesman grew bored of the mundane cycle of his job. Find someone in debt, offer them a deal, play Ddakji with them, give them a card, and repeat. Every day.

☘︎ The pay wasn’t the problem. The front man could be quite generous, especially with his favorites. Your husband made six figures a month and you lived in one of the most expensive penthouses in all of Seoul.

☘︎ Yet, Gong Yoo still wanted to quit. But he was afraid. Terrified how the frontman would react. He wasn’t truly afraid of dying. The amount of times he had put a gun to his own head to fake out his enemies was too high to count. No, he was scared what his boss would do to you.

☘︎ The salesman knew if he ever wanted to leave the games for good, he’d have to leave Seoul—and likely Korea as a whole—and possibly change both of your identities.

☘︎ But once you flee the country, where do you go? The Americas? Europe? The recruiter had always heard you talking about how much you would love to move to the French countryside one day…maybe you could go there?

☘︎ But in the end, Gong Yoo knew his efforts would be futile. That he would be stuck in this repetitive loop until the day he dies. But when he comes home from a long and boring day of work to you making a delicious feast for him, he can’t help falling in love over again.

☘︎ You are his escape. His paradise. And Gong Yoo has no plans of letting you go anytime soon.

[seryv0]

I love this freaky man

[drglungus]

Real talk salesman, you come to America and do this I will fuck the shit out of you.

[teemz0]

good afternoon