#the salesman x reader

[carnalcrows]

ME 'N THE DEVIL - THE SALESMAN

pairing: salesman x bottom male reader

synopsis: A story of obsession and longing, where one man's desperate need for love traps another in a web of fear, desire, and the haunting promise of safety that feels anything but safe.

content warnings: 18+, bottom male reader, kidnapping, drugging, blood, reader's boyfriend is an abusive bitch, death, dubcon, forced submission, breading, cream pie, dead dove do not eat.

word count: 4.1k

A/N: requested by 🥀 anon (link). i don't think i did enough justice to this amazing prompt sksksjsj

The bar was nearly empty that night—just how you preferred it. The soft hum of the jukebox played a tired old rock ballad, the kind that felt heavy with nostalgia, though you couldn’t place why. The faint clink of glassware punctuated the quiet, as the bartender cleaned glasses with the same rhythmic monotony they’d perfected over years.

You sat hunched over the counter, fingers curling loosely around your glass of whiskey. The amber liquid reflected the dim, golden glow of the bar lights, casting distorted shadows against the wood.

“And then he…” You trailed off, swallowing against the lump rising in your throat. You stared into the glass, as though the answer to your pain might be hiding somewhere in the depths of the drink. “He called me a waste of space.”

The words hung in the air, raw and shameful. Your voice wavered, and you fought the urge to cry.

“Like I don’t already feel like one most days,” you mumbled, your lips pressing into a bitter line.

The bartender paused their wiping to nod, their expression one of quiet sympathy. But the gesture felt empty, rehearsed even. They probably heard stories like yours a hundred times a week—drunken tales of bad lovers, broken hearts, and bruised egos. Still, you pressed on.

“He doesn’t just yell,” you admitted, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Sometimes… he hits me. But he always says he’s sorry after, and I…” A hollow, bitter laugh escaped you, cutting through the thick air. “I keep forgiving him. Like a goddamn idiot.”

For a moment, silence stretched between you and the bartender. Their eyes flicked to the clock, their discomfort palpable. You couldn’t blame them. Who wanted to hear a stranger’s misery, especially one they couldn’t fix?

“Sounds like he doesn’t deserve you.”

The voice startled you—smooth, confident, and close enough to make you stiffen. It came from your left.

You turned your head, blinking at the man who had somehow slipped onto the stool beside you without you noticing. He was striking, his sharp features framed by slicked-back hair that glinted faintly under the dim bar lights. His suit was tailored to perfection, charcoal gray with subtle pinstripes that hinted at wealth and precision. But it was his eyes that caught you most. They were piercing, their intensity almost predatory, like they saw right through you.

“Excuse me?” you asked, your surprise laced with suspicion.

The man smiled, and it was the kind of smile that could melt the edges of even the hardest heart. It was warm, practiced, and just shy of charming.

“You deserve better,” he said, his tone soft but sure. “That much is obvious.”

You frowned, instinctively pulling back a little. The comment was unexpected, and you didn’t know how to take it. “Do I know you?”

“Not yet.” He leaned back slightly, casual and self-assured, like he belonged in every space he entered. “But I couldn’t help overhearing. You deserve better than what you’re settling for.”

The directness of his words left you flustered. You hesitated, unsure whether to be defensive or grateful.

“You don’t even know me,” you muttered, a hint of challenge in your tone.

He tilted his head, his gaze never leaving yours. “Don’t need to. Some things are obvious.”

You stared at him for a moment longer, searching for some sign of an ulterior motive. But his face betrayed nothing except an odd mix of calm and curiosity. Finally, you turned back to your drink, muttering under your breath, “Bold of you to assume you know my life.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m wrong,” he countered smoothly.

The corners of your mouth twitched despite yourself.

The next time you saw him, you were back at the bar, nursing yet another drink after another brutal argument with your boyfriend. The whiskey burned less this time, your tolerance rising in step with your misery.

You’d been thinking about the man from the other night more than you cared to admit—his sharp wit, his confidence, the way his presence had made you feel seen in a way that was both comforting and unnerving.

When he appeared again, sliding onto the stool beside you like he belonged there, your heart skipped a beat.

“Rough day?” he asked, his voice warm and inviting, as if you were old friends.

“Something like that,” you muttered, your head low. You didn’t want to spill your heart out again—not tonight.

But he had a way of drawing you out. His questions were easy, his comments sharp but never cutting. Before you knew it, you were talking again—about nothing and everything. About the little annoyances of your day and the bigger cracks threatening to break you apart.

He listened, really listened, and offered thoughts that were insightful without being overbearing. He even made you laugh—a genuine laugh, something you hadn’t done in weeks.

By the time you realized how much time had passed, the bar was closing, and the two of you were walking out together.

The air outside was crisp, carrying the faint smell of rain. He walked you to your car, his presence steady and reassuring beside you.

“You know,” he said as you reached your door, his voice lower now, almost intimate, “you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

You looked at him, startled by the sincerity in his tone. His gaze locked onto yours, intense and unrelenting, and for a moment, you felt like he was seeing parts of you you’d tried to hide even from yourself.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, unsure how else to respond.

As you climbed into your car, you caught the way he looked at you through the window—like you were something precious, something he couldn’t quite have but desperately wanted.

The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. And for a fleeting moment, you wondered what it might be like to let him have you.

The man couldn’t get you out of his head. You consumed him, haunted his thoughts, and stirred something primal in him. But there was one obstacle standing in his way: your sorry excuse of a boyfriend.

He watched from the shadows, studying the man who dared to hurt you. The bruises you tried to hide, the way your voice cracked when you spoke of him—it was enough to fuel The man’s resolve.

The next time he saw you at the bar, he smiled warmly and ordered you another drink. You didn’t notice the way his hand lingered over your glass for just a moment too long, or how the edges of your vision began to blur shortly after you finished it.

When you woke, you were in a dark room. The smell of dust and old wood filled your nostrils, and the faint sound of classical music played from a record player in the corner.

Your wrists were tied to the arms of a chair, the rope biting into your skin. Across from you, your boyfriend sat in a similar chair, thrashing and screaming into the gag that muffled his words.

“What the hell—?” you began, your voice trembling.

“Good evening.”

The man stepped into view, his sharp grin cutting through the dim light. He was impeccably dressed, as always, his hands clasped behind his back.

“What’s going on?” you demanded, panic rising in your chest.

“It’s simple,” he said, his tone calm. “You’re going to play a game.”

On the table between you and your boyfriend sat a revolver, its gleaming barrel a stark contrast to the grimy room.

“Russian roulette,” The man explained, picking up the gun and spinning the cylinder with practiced ease. “One of you walks out of here. The other… doesn’t.”

Your boyfriend screamed behind his gag, his eyes wild with terror. You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “No! I won’t do it!”

“Oh, but you will,” The man said, his smile never wavering. “Because you want to live. And deep down, a part of you wants him to pay for what he’s done to you.”

The man placed the revolver on the table, spinning the cylinder with a flick of his wrist. The ominous cl-click of the mechanism echoed in the room, setting your teeth on edge. He looked between you and your boyfriend, his grin widening as if he relished your fear.

“Let’s begin,” he said, picking up the gun. His movements were deliberate, almost casual, as if this were no more than a game of cards.

“You’re not rolling the barrel?” you questioned in shock, staring into his eyes, which seemed devoid of any emotion.

“What’s the fun in that?” he merely grinned, while adjusting his cufflinks.

He pointed the revolver at you first.

Click.

The sound was deafening, despite the empty chamber. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribs as you stared down the barrel of the gun.

The man chuckled softly, as if entertained by the way your shoulders heaved with each shaky breath. “Nerve-wracking, isn’t it?”

He turned the gun toward your boyfriend.

Click.

Your boyfriend thrashed in his chair, muffled cries spilling through the gag as he shook his head violently. You could feel his terror radiating across the small room, mingling with your own.

“I’d almost feel bad for him if he wasn’t such a waste,” The man mused, spinning the cylinder again with deliberate slowness. The sound of the metal grinding against itself sent a chill through your entire body.

The gun swung back to you.

Click.

You flinched, tears spilling down your cheeks as your vision blurred. Your mind screamed at you to move, to do something, but you were frozen, your body paralyzed by fear.

The man hummed a classical tune softly under his breath, tapping the side of the gun like he was debating his next move. His eyes flicked between you and your boyfriend, finally landing on the latter.

“Let’s see if he’s feeling lucky.”

He raised the gun again, pointing it between your boyfriend’s wide, bloodshot eyes.

Click.

Your boyfriend screamed into the gag, thrashing so violently that the chair scraped against the floor. Sweat dripped down his face as his muffled cries turned into guttural, animalistic wails of desperation.

The man sighed, feigning disappointment. “Oh, the suspense is killing me,” he said, the grin on his face making it clear that he was enjoying every second.

The revolver spun again, slower this time. You heard every metallic grind as it came to a stop, and your stomach lurched.

This time, the barrel swung back to you. The man pressed the gun against your cheek, the cold metal biting into your skin.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re terrified,” he whispered, his voice low and intimate, like a lover’s confession.

Click.

You gasped audibly, your eyes darting to his. He stared back at you with a manic glint, his grin splitting wider as though your anguish was his favorite song.

Without warning, he turned the gun back to your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend screamed, shaking his head violently, tears streaming down his face. He made a muffled plea through the gag, words you couldn’t make out but understood well enough: he was begging.

The man tilted his head, feigning consideration. “I wonder what your last thought is right now. Regret? Fear? Or maybe it’s anger… at yourself for being such a pathetic excuse for a human being.”

He pulled the trigger.

BANG!

The sound of the gunshot ripped through the room, leaving your ears ringing. Blood sprayed across the table and onto your face in hot, sticky droplets. Your boyfriend’s head snapped back violently before slumping forward, the rope keeping his body upright as blood poured from the jagged hole in his forehead. His body twitched once, then fell still.

The metallic scent of blood mingled with the acrid smell of gunpowder, burning into your nostrils. Your stomach churned as you stared at the lifeless shell of the man who had once called you his.

You should’ve felt horror, revulsion, or even guilt. But somewhere deep down, a small, twisted part of you felt… relief. Relief that it was finally over, that he couldn’t hurt you anymore.

The man stepped closer, crouching in front of you and gently brushing a blood-spattered lock of hair from your face. His touch was uncomfortably tender, a stark contrast to the carnage around you.

“You’re free now,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “No one will ever hurt you again.”

Your lips parted, but no words came. You stared at him in shock, your mind a haze of terror and conflicting emotions.

Before you could process what had happened, darkness crept in once more.

When you woke, it was to the dim light of dawn filtering through your curtains, casting soft, golden rays across your room. Everything felt disjointed—your body ached in places you couldn’t explain, and your mind was swimming in a haze of fragmented memories. For a few blissful seconds, you thought it was just a nightmare, a grotesque figment of your imagination brought on by too much alcohol and too little sleep.

But then you noticed the faint metallic scent still lingering in the air.

Sitting up, you looked down at yourself. Your clothes were rumpled and clung uncomfortably to your skin, but it was the faint smudge of red near your collar that made your stomach drop. You didn’t want to believe it. You stumbled to your feet, each step heavy with dread as you made your way to the laundry hamper.

And there it was—a bloodstained shirt.

The sight hit you like a punch to the gut, your breath hitching as the reality of it all came crashing down. It wasn’t a nightmare. It had happened. The screaming, the gunshots, the blood—it was all real.

You threw the shirt into the deepest corner of the hamper and slammed the lid shut, as though that could contain the memories clawing their way to the surface.

For days, you couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t function. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw flashes of it: his twisted grin, the spray of blood, your boyfriend’s lifeless body slumping forward. Guilt and relief warred within you, an impossible combination that left you sick to your stomach.

Eventually, you realized you had to do something. You couldn’t keep drowning in your own mind. So, you decided to rebuild.

You poured what little savings you had into opening a small bakery, a cozy place tucked into a quiet corner of town. It became your sanctuary, a space where you could channel your pain into something productive. Kneading dough, shaping pastries, and watching loaves rise in the oven—it was simple, grounding work that gave you a sense of control when everything else felt so chaotic.

The bakery quickly became a modest success. Locals loved the fresh bread and the warm, inviting atmosphere you worked so hard to create. For a while, you almost believed you could have a normal life again.

But then he walked in.

It was an ordinary afternoon. The scent of freshly baked sourdough filled the air, and sunlight streamed through the shop’s front windows, casting a warm glow across the wooden countertops. You were arranging a tray of croissants when the bell above the door jingled.

Looking up, your heart stopped.

There he was, standing in the doorway as if he belonged there, his sharp features and piercing eyes unmistakable. He was dressed as impeccably as ever, his suit perfectly tailored and his smile disarmingly casual.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” he said, approaching the counter with an air of ease that made your skin crawl.

Your hands trembled as you wiped them on your apron, trying to steady yourself. “What… what are you doing here?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer right away, instead glancing around the shop with an almost appreciative expression. “Just passing through,” he said finally, as if that explained anything. He slid a few bills across the counter. “A few loaves of sourdough.”

Your fingers fumbled as you grabbed some fresh loaves and wrapped them in parchment paper, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear it. You avoided his gaze, but you could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move.

When you handed him the loaf, your hands brushed for the briefest moment, and you pulled back like you’d been burned. His smile widened, his eyes glinting with something dark and unreadable.

“Thanks,” he said, his tone light and polite, as though this were just a normal interaction.

He turned and walked out without another word, the bell jingling softly in his wake.

As you closed shop for the evening, flipping the "OPEN" sign to "CLOSED," a deep sigh escaped your lips, the weight of the day melting off your shoulders. It had been one of those relentlessly busy days where time blurred—an endless parade of smiling customers asking for pastries, loaves, and the occasional custom order that had you juggling more than your two hands should allow. The familiar ache in your back and flour dusting your sleeves were reminders of how hard you’d worked. But as the quiet settled in, so did a sense of peace.

For once, your mind wasn’t completely consumed by thoughts of him. It was a rare reprieve, the memories and fears receding like the tide, leaving you with something close to calm. You held onto that feeling tightly, as though letting it slip away might invite the darkness back.

After locking the door and slipping the keys into your pocket, you stood on the sidewalk for a moment, staring at the fading sunlight painting the horizon in soft hues of orange and pink. The thought of going straight home to your empty apartment felt suffocating—too quiet, too lonely, too much room for your thoughts to spiral.

A gentle breeze stirred the air, carrying with it the faint scent of grass and distant flowers, and an idea bloomed in your mind. The park. It had been weeks since you’d allowed yourself the luxury of just… being. You needed the fresh air, the open space, the sounds of the world moving on around you. Maybe, just for a little while, you could convince yourself that everything was normal.

And then you saw him.

He stood on the sidewalk, holding the bread that he had bought from you for a moment before deliberately letting them fall to the ground. Then, with calculated cruelty, he ground it under his heel, the parchment paper tearing and the loaves crumbling into pieces. A group of homeless people nearby looked on, their gazes hungry and desperate, but he didn’t so much as glance at them.

Instead, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours.

That grin spread across his face again, wide and manic, his teeth gleaming in the afternoon sun. It wasn’t a smile of kindness or humor—it was a promise. A reminder.

Your stomach twisted, and you stumbled back, your breathing ragged. He knew exactly what he was doing, and the message was clear: you weren’t free of him.

Not yet.

That night, you awoke with a start, your senses assaulted by the soft, flickering glow of candlelight. Shadows danced along the walls, their movements hypnotic and eerie, the faint scent of wax and smoke filling the air. Your heart pounded as you realized you weren’t in your bed. The room was unfamiliar—opulent, in a hauntingly old-fashioned way. The furniture was dark wood, the drapes heavy and velvet, the atmosphere suffocatingly intimate.

And then you saw him.

He was standing over you, his silhouette bathed in the golden light of the candles. His suit was pristine as always, his tie slightly loosened, and his sharp features softened just enough to be disarming. But it was his eyes that held you captive, their intensity pinning you in place like prey caught in a predator’s gaze.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice low and velvety, carrying a dangerous edge of satisfaction. He crouched beside the bed, his movements deliberate and smooth, his presence overwhelming. “Good. I was starting to think you’d sleep through the best part.”

Your breath hitched as his hand came up to your face, his fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that felt utterly at odds with the situation. His touch was cold, yet it left a trail of fire in its wake, and you couldn’t help but flinch.

“You can’t run from me,” he murmured, his tone soft but laced with an unyielding certainty. “I’ve been patient. I’ve given you space. But you belong to me, and it’s time you understood that.”

Tears welled in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks despite your best efforts to hold them back. You hated how vulnerable you felt, how powerless you were under his gaze. His thumb brushed a tear away, his touch almost reverent, and he smiled—a soft, bittersweet smile that only made you feel more trapped.

“I adore you,” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Every moment, every thought, it’s all been for you. Don’t you see? I’ve done everything for you. And now, you’re mine.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could process what was happening, his lips were on yours. The kiss was messy, desperate, and all-consuming, like he was trying to claim every part of you at once. His hands cradled your face, his grip firm but not painful, as if he were afraid you might disappear if he let go.

You hated yourself for it, but you kissed him back. Your body betrayed you, a spark igniting deep within you that you couldn’t extinguish. His passion was intoxicating, pulling you under like a riptide, and for a moment, you forgot everything else—your fear, your anger, your confusion.

When he finally pulled away, his breath was hot against your skin, his forehead resting against yours. “You’ll be safe with me,” he murmured, his voice heavy with conviction. “Forever.”

His words sent a chill through you, not because you doubted him, but because you believed him. There was no escaping him—not his obsession, not his control, not the twisted connection that bound you to him.

Deep down, in the parts of yourself you didn’t want to acknowledge, you knew he was right.

His hands slowly trailed down to the hem of your pants, tugging them off. The cool breeze hit your thighs, forming goosebumps along the soft skin– making you shiver with a mix of delight and fear.

He pressed forehead, slowly inching down to your lips, pulling you in once more, as he lifted you in his arms completely.

“Such a pretty little thing,” he cooed whilst sliding your boxers down, revealing your throbbing erection.

You whimpered at the praise as he brought his hand to your chin to make you face him. His eyes– which previously felt devoid of having any human emotion, were now different. You couldn’t place exactly what it was.

As he pulled you into another searing kiss, one of his fingers prodded at your exposed hole, wet with lube. You yelped at the sudden intrusion, only to be silenced with another kiss.

He slowly pushed his finger in, followed by another, and then another. Three digits were slowly pumping in and out of you, as you held on to the man’s already crumpled shirt for some sense of balance.

When he deemed that you had been prepped enough, he slowly removed his fingers, and replaced them with his hardened length (you hadn't noticed him taking his pants off–oh well).

He pushed the tip in, making you throw your head back, and an almost pornographic moan leaving your lips.

The man let out a low groan,you were so tight that it seemed like your hole was sucking him in. When he bottomed out, you took few deeps breaths, but before you could say anything, he pulled out almost all the way and slammed back in.

Your eyes went to the back of your head, jaw going slack. His hands were holding your legs up in such an angle that he was hitting your prostate with every single thrust.

Your hole clenched around his length, almost making it hard for him to move– but he seemed to manage. He fucked into with reckless abandon, marvelling at your pretty sounds– they were angelic to his ears.

Soon, you felt your orgasm consuming you like a raging waterfall; but the man wasn’t finished. He rammed into you even harder than before, the overstimulation making your brain go fuzzy.

Eventually, his thrusts stuttered, and he spilled his load into you– painting your insides a pearlescent white.

You huffed, feeling filled to the brim as he slowly placed you back onto the bed. The exhaustion made sleep consume you once more.

“You’re mine now, little dove– and I’m never letting you go.”

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.

[celestiallure]

his smile and little nose scrunch while doing the iconic salesman pose, my heart 😭

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

Summary: After getting attacked at the train station, you get rescued by a mysterious stranger. But is that really better?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

To be continued. 🔜

[labelneo]

SQUID GAME HEADCANON: he gets jealous 🍬

WARNING: toxic/suggestive themes

INHO ★ likes it when you make him jealous, he just won’t admit it out loud. likes the idea of someone flirting with you so that he can do the work to show you who you belong to again. would watch you silently from afar at first, leaning back into his seat as he watched you. would walk up to you confidently, stand next to you, greet whoever it is you’re talking to, and then lean into your ear. tells you he’ll deal with you later for letting someone flirt with you. kisses your temple before walking away. will remind you that you only belong to him once the two of you get back home.

THE SALESMAN ★ won’t say anything in the moment, but is watching everything that is happening. shoots daggers from across the room, making chills run down your spine. after you’re done talking to whoever it was you were talking to, he would make you sit in his lap, making sure they were watching as he touched you up and down. afterwards, when the two of you are alone, he grabs you by the chin and makes you look at him. asks you what you think you were doing with whoever it is you were talking to. doesn’t like it when you act confused to avoid the confrontation. gets close to your face and pulls you towards him, telling you that you need to learn how to behave.

DAEHO ★ heart literally drops to his stomach when he hears someone else making you laugh. would go stand next to you, trying to indiscreetly pull you away from the other person. would pull at your waist and nudge your sides until you eventually leave. hugs your waist and stays by your side the entire time until the conversation ended. doesn’t hesitant to pull you away quickly once he realizes the conversation was over. until would ask you “who is that” and pout regardless of the answer you gave him. doesn’t talk to you afterwards because he’s too busy sulking. would only forgive you when you gave him enough kisses to kiss his pout away.

JUNHO ★ wraps his arm possessively around your waist, making straight eye contact with whoever it is that you’re interacting with. he’s not one to make a big deal, but he’s not going to not do anything. stares coldly at the other person until they get uncomfortable and leave. gives you a quick kiss as a way to act nonchalant about what just happened, but tells you your attention belongs to him and that you shouldn’t be giving it to anyone else. acts like the incident isn’t bothering him anymore, but keeps his hold on you for the rest of the day, wanting to make sure everyone knows you are his and only his.

THANOS ★ stands behind you with his arms around your waist and starts asking who you’re talking to. ignores all the introductions and just starts kissing your neck in front of them, not caring about making anyone uncomfortable. likes to see your face get all shy before you excuse yourself. only gets more and more grabby as the two of you walk away. isn’t bothered even if you tell him that his actions make you feel embarrassed and simply just tucks your hair behind your ear while telling you how cute you are when you get all flustered by him. just shrugs it off and tells you he doesn’t care because he isn’t afraid about letting people know that your his.

MYUNG GI ★ scoffs while he watches you interact with the person. pretends like it doesn’t bother him, but after a while, he gets up and walks over to you and introduces himself. makes sure to let them know who is to you before pulling you away. gives you the silent treatment even when you whine for him to talk to you. eventually gives in because he can’t keep being upset with you, especially when you keep kissing his face as an apology. realizes he just doesn’t like the idea of sharing you and your attention in any way because he just wants for you to be all his.

Read More Here!

TAGLIST: @ninglovr @okaycharr @ilovequeen978 @vinaluvsu @shimochibun @sunshiines-stuff

[carlosainzgf]

REUNITED

kang dae ho x fem!reader (smut)

(i wrote this at like 3 am so ignore if there are any typos or something)

the vote decided that you could return home, but you didn’t want to lose touch with dae-ho, so you agreed to find each other. you gave him your address before you were dragged away from each and dropped on the middle of a street.

after a few days of waiting for him you thought he wasn’t going to show up. but then there was a knock on your door. you rushed and opened it.

you were sitting at home looking pretty all day long because you didn’t know when he would show up. but it paid off. your hair was sitting prettily on your shoulders, you had a little lace top on and a pair of cotton shorts and a cute cardigan to warm you up on top.

when dae ho saw you he was speechless. you weren’t dressed in anything fancy but seeing you out of those disgusting, bloody tracksuits was enough to leave him speechless.

“hi” even tho you had seen each other at your lowest and talked about anything and everything when you couldn’t sleep, you were still shy when you saw him.

“hey” he greeted you as shyly as you greeted him.

you were both quick to embrace each other in a hug. a very needed one. you had both witnessed such cruel things in that island and you both understand one anothers pain.

after a night of long talks about your lifes, what you were going to do with the money you both won and a little too much of wine you found yourself in his hold. kissing lazily as dae ho admired you. his fingers leaving delicate traces over your jaw. and your hands tugging at his hair.

as the kissing became more needy and your bodies danced together you felt him through your clothes, rubbing deliciously over you clothed clit. you placed your hand over his hard on and started rubbing him.

he pulled away and placed his hand over yours.

“see this? it’s all for you.”

you move down from you place on his lap to in between his thighs, carefully sliding off dae ho’s pants and releasing him from restraint of his underwear. you slowly wrap your mouth around dae ho’s shaft, your tongue wrapping rings around the tip and suckling softly making him moan loudly.

he watches you look up at him while you slowly but steadily lick up his shaft, making your way back to his tip where you begin to focus your tongue along slit.

his eyes roll back as you slowly start to bob your head.

he wraps his hand around your hair, making a makeshift ponytail and gently pushed your head down, shoving more of his length in your mouth so deep that your nose is nearly up against the small patch of hair above his cock

you let out a soft gagging sound as his fat cock hits the back of your throat. you splutter a bit, drooling around the shaft. he guides you to bob your head by the grip he has on your hair.

dae ho panted out between gasping breaths, his voice tight with desperation as he felt the rising from the pit of his stomach.

“f-fuck…if you don’t im gonna…co-come.” he didn’t want it to end just yet so he yanked you off himself and laid you down.

he undressed you, then himself.

his hands roamed everywhere, from your back to your ass, to your stomach, caressing every inch of you.

he started to kiss his way down your body, kissing and biting your skin as he went.

dae ho's lips trailed down your body, his calloused hands explored every curve as if he was trying to engrave it to his mind.

he fondled with your boobs. the one he has been day dreaming about. you stared at dae ho as he did so. taking in those puppy brown eyes that were looking up at you, the warmth of his skin and that god send hair of his. he suddenly dipped his head, latching himself to one of your nipples as he toyed with the other, feeding into the pooling wetness between your thighs. your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your hips automatically responded by grinding up onto dae ho’s cock.

you moan, loudly.

moving one hand down your hips, skimming past your burning thigh before reaching the small bundle of nerves. you let out a small whine against his heated neck, bucking your hips against his fingers.

he watched as your head fell back while his thick fingers slid against your drenched folds. dae ho thrusted his fingers into your warm walls, briefly watching you envelope him entirely.

“shit, shit, shit,” you whisper as dae ho’s fingers slip in and out of you. he’s feverishly kissing down the side of your thighs, bites left in between. you groan in slight pain as you tug on his soft hair. he curls his fingers inside of you. you mewl at the touch.

“i need... i need..." you breathed, "i need you in me, fuck." his entire body shuddered with a sharp arousal at your words. with all the willpower he has left he removes his finger from your wet hole.

he was quick to position himself at you opening. he rubbed his shaft over your slit, gathering your wetness and nudging your clit as he did so.

you gasped as he pressed his cock into you slowly, his whispered praises to keep your focus on him. “that’s it,” he encouraged, his hand braced yours and pinned them up over your head. “you’re doing so good for me, baby.”

he started moving slowly, savoring the feeling of your warmth. a tiny, needy moan could be heard from him. it's like you were made for him, your gummy walls perfectly stretched out to cling to every last vein and inch on his cock.

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. “s-so big!” dae bo groaned softly and stared at you in awe, at the pleasured expression on your face he fucked you, oh, so deep.

you felt so good, his cock moving so easily in and out of your warm and wet pussy. he groans feeling your pussy close in on him, getting tighter and tighter. “you feel s-so…good!”

lifting your head up, you stare into his eyes. mouth agape as moans kept spilling from your mouth.

it wasn’t long till he felt you squeeze him so hard he moaned and stuttered his hips for a second. you moaned even louder now, your legs felt like jelly.

“you gonna come? come on my cock, baby. let me feel you.” he rubbed your clit with his thumb, putting just the right amount of pressure on it, needy to make you cum.

he could see you slowly fall apart. your body was shaking with pleasure, your hands reaching towards his thick biceps to hold.

he grunted, feeling you clench around his cock. "cum... cum for me," he beckoned, increasing the speed of his cock and the pressure of his thumb on your clit.

your body jerked and convulsed over him, your brain unable to control it any longer. your climax hit you hard. your moans were high pitched and dazed. you were completely lost in pleasure.

your pleasure only fueled his. dae ho groaned at the feel of his twitching cock in your walls. “aah, shit," dae ho cussed, drunk on your pussy.

you both moaned when you felt the hot ropes of his cum spill into your walls. his hips stuttered, as you took every last drop from him.

he buried his chin into your neck, riding out his last few moments of his climax. he placed a few lingering kisses across your neck, coming to your lips last and capturing them with his once again.

placing a kiss on your forehead, he slowly removed his softening cock from your pussy. you both watched his cum mixed with your spill out of you.

he swooped you into his arms making you yelp. "let's take a shower and get you cleaned up, yeah?”

[catchastarorten]

—Pause the game.

Pairing: the salesman/recruiter x wife!fem!reader

Summary: your husband had some ‘work’ to take care of with the two people that had been trailing after him all day, but when your call came in, and when he found out that you felt sick, you became much more important than whatever he had going on.

Warnings: mainly fluff, mentions of Woo-seok and Jeong-rae following snd spying on him, some parts of the Russian roulette game, he’s soft for you, he misses you, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 1.4k

The day had been long, even by his standards. A hundred lottery scratchers, a hundred loaves of bread, the park, the homeless. He had been up to a little ‘social experiment’. Even then, he caught onto the two men who had been trailing behind him since the subway station.

He wasn’t stupid. Someone was after him, and these two lackeys were clearly here to track him down. His best guess? Seong Gi-hun.

Woo-seok and Jeong-rae had been following him like shadows—clumsy ones, attempting to blend in with the surroundings every time he stopped, as if they expected him to turn around and strike at any moment. And eventually, he did.

He had let them tail him, then to his surprise, they made the first move down an alleyway to avoid losing him. By the time they realized they had made a mistake, it was too late. He had taken them down quickly, efficiently, the way he always handled these things. No emotions, no hesitation.

Jeong-rae had gone down first, crumpled to the ground. Woo-seok tried to fight back with the poor attempt of using a small knife, but a sharp blow of the suitcase to his head had knocked him out.

Now, they were sitting across from each other, bound to chairs, tied up with ropes, their mouths gagged, their muffled groans filling the dimly lit room. They couldn’t scream, couldn’t beg—just incoherent muffled noises as they squirmed like trapped animals.

He slowly circled the two men, then stopped to place a hand on each of their shoulders, eyes filled with amusement at their looks of terror.

“We're going to play a game now... Rock, Paper, Scissors, Minus One. I trust you know the rules.” his gaze flickered from Jeong-rae to Woo-seok, a smile forming on his lips.

“You form a shape with each hand, then take one away. The game is decided by the remaining hands. Of course, there’s a penalty for the loser.” he picked up the nearby revolver and inspected it, then pressed the barrel to his temple. “Russian Roulette.”

Their muffled protests grew louder, their bodies twisting against the ropes in a futile attempt to escape. The two men were shaking, their breaths heavy as he leaned closer, his finger on the trigger.

Click.

Empty.

His smirk widened as he backed away slowly.

“Alright. Now, let’s play. On my count.”

But then, as he was getting ready to spin the cylinder of the revolver, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

His brows furrowed, the interruption pulling him out of the carefully constructed moment. He pulled the phone out, and the sight of your name on the screen made him pause.

He froze for a moment, staring at the screen as his heart softened. It wasn’t like you to call him in the middle of the day. You knew he was busy—always busy. The ‘work’ he pretended to do required him to keep odd hours, to vanish without explanation, and you never questioned it. You trusted him. And he loved you for that trust, even if he didn’t deserve it.

His thumb hovering over the answer button before taking a deep breath and sliding his mask of indifference back into place. But when he answered, his voice betrayed him. It was warm, gentle—a tone he reserved only for you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft, the edge it had carried a moment ago completely gone. He shot the two men a warning look, his eyes narrowing as if daring them to make a sound.

Turning away from them, his tone dropped into something almost tender. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Your voice came through the line, quiet and tinged with vulnerability. “I… I didn’t mean to bother you. I just… I’m not feeling well.”

He could hear the catch in your throat, the faint rasp. “Are you sick?” he asked, straightening.

There was a pause on your end, then a soft sniffle that nearly broke his heart. “Yeah. Just a cold, I think. My head hurts, and I’m all stuffed up.”

He closed his eyes, letting out a slow, steadying breath as guilt twisted in his chest. You sounded miserable, and he hated that he wasn’t there to take care of you. Hated that he was here, in this cold room, when he should’ve been home with you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I know you’re busy. I just… I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said quickly, his voice gentle but firm. “You can call me anytime, okay? I mean it. Anytime.”

There was a pause, and then he heard another sniffle on the other end. It made his chest clench. “Where are you?” you asked. “Are you coming home soon?”

He glanced down at Woo-seok and Jeong-rae, their wide, panicked eyes watching him like trapped prey. The revolver gleamed on the table beside him, a stark reminder of the life he led when he wasn’t with you.

For the first time all day, he felt a pang of guilt—not for them, but for you. For the life he kept hidden from you. You had no idea what he did, the darkness he waded through every day. And he wanted to keep it that way. You were his light, his one connection to something pure and good in a world full of shadows.

“Soon,” he promised, his voice softening even further. “I’ll be home soon."

You didn’t reply right away, but he could picture you nodding, your lips pressed into that small, tired smile you always gave him when you were sick. He could see you in his mind—wrapped in a blanket, your hair messy, your cheeks flushed from the fever.

“There’s soup in the fridge,” he added gently. “I made it this morning. Heat some up, okay? And the heating pad’s in the bottom drawer. You’ll feel better if you use it.”

“Okay,” you murmured, your voice tired.

“I love you,” he said, the word coming out more vulnerable than he intended.

“I love you too,” you replied, and he could hear the faint smile in your voice despite the cold.

His chest tightened at the sound of those words. He glanced away from the two men on the floor, his jaw clenching as he fought the sudden wave of emotion that threatened to rise. “Now go rest, my love. I’ll be home soon.” his voice was thick with sincerity.

When the call ended, the room was silent. He stared down at the phone in his hand, his mind still on you.

For a moment, he let himself imagine walking through the door of your shared apartment, dropping his keys on the counter, and finding you curled up on the couch. He’d press a kiss to your forehead, make sure you were warm, and hold you until you fell asleep. That was all he wanted.

But instead, he was stuck here.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned his attention to Woo-seok and Jeong-rae. His expression hardened once more. “Well,” he said. “Where were we?”

He reached for the revolver, spinning the cylinder with a practiced flick of his wrist. The sound echoed through the room, sharp and final.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” he said, his tone almost mocking. “Loser gets to test their luck with this. Simple, right?”

He crouched down in front of them, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring their terror.

They shook their heads frantically, their breathing heavy, protests muffled by the gag. He sighed, standing up and running a hand through his hair. “You know,” he said, his voice almost casual. “I’d love to stay and play, but I’ve got someone waiting for me at home. So let’s not drag this out.”

Their muffled protests grew louder, but he didn’t care. This was his world. His game.

And when it was over, he’d go home to you. To the warmth of your love, the softness of your touch.

You didn’t know what he was. What he did. And he intended to keep it that way.

Because as long as you were safe, as long as you loved him, he could pretend—for just a little while—that he was someone worth loving.

[eddielove]

He’s soo Lana del Rey

[crimsonnsstuff]

Can you do something out of games like they are in outside world.

Dark hwang inho x maid reader. Where his eyes linger on his sweet maid longer than it should be. But she's not into him. If it's money she's saying no for he'll throw stack of money on her face. Forcing her to sleep with him. Non con

Clean and proper

Warnings: non con, p in v, reader only fucks In-ho for cash.

The whole day was a mess, scrubbing floors desperately for your daily paycheck. Being In-hos maid was a mess in general. He found you, sleeping on a mark bench and offered you the job. You had to except it, having no money. He was even offering you to stay there. You had to say yes.

Now here you were, in your room, changing out of your clothes. You were grateful that the uniform wasn’t so slutty. Tho, he did make you give him blowjobs here and there, but he paid you for it.

You bring your nose up to the clothes. The uniform smelled like food and cleaning products. You groan, throwing the uniform in the laundry hamper. You were gonna have to wash it tomorrow morning. You walk over to your dresser, opening one of the drawers. Your eyes land on the dress that In-house bought you. It was a dark green and it brought out your eyes.

He bought it for the dinner that he so desperately tried to take you out too. He had to pay you to go. You sigh and pick up your pajama set beside it. You lay it out on your bed. You hear a few soft knocks on the door, and In-ho walked in.You stood there, in the middle of the bedroom, in just your panties and bra. In-ho acted weirdly casual. “Hey,” he says softly, approaching carefully. “You didn’t come for another blowjob, did you?” You ask. His eyes narrow. “Don’t be a fucking brat. And no, I came for more than that.”

Your heart drops. More? There’s no way you would let that man fuck you. “I’m not letting you fuck me.” You growl, sitting down in the edge of your bed. “Jesus Christ, brat. I gave you a place to stay and a job. The least you could do is let me fuck you.” He groans. You open your mouth to say something. “Shut up. Just shut up.” He says, reaching into the pocket of his pants. He pulls out his wallet and opens it. He places a couple hundred dollar bills on one of your thighs, then a couple on the other. He puts his wallet pack in his pocket. “What do you say, hm?”

You sigh and pick up the cash, setting it on your nightstand. “Fine.” You mutter. He smirks, crawling over you. He leans down and presses kisses to your collar bone. You close your eyes, disgusted by the way you’re letting this man fuck you. He ruined your life. Maybe you were being dramatic, he did give you a place to stay after all. In-ho's hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming. His mouth moved to your collar bone, to your boobs, igniting fires you didn't know you had within you. You squirm as he kisses down your stomach.

He pulls back, unbuckling his belt. He throws it to the side. He is quick to take his pants and boxers off. You recognized the boxers, you’ve washed them countless of times. He slowly unbuttons his shirt, revealing his toned chest to you.He is quick to rip your panties off, tearing them. “Hey! I like these!” You groan. “Shut up. I bought them. What makes you think I can’t buy you another pair?” He rubs his cock yo and down your folds, teasing you.

As he entered you, the line between reluctance and desire blurred. His rhythm was punishing yet intoxicating, each thrust a reminder of why you should never have agreed to this deal. Yet, with each movement, you felt yourself losing to the pleasure he was forcing upon you, the reality of his payment making it all the more complicated.You moan softly. You can’t believe this actually felt good. You can’t deny it, he was really attractive. Your back arches off the bed. Suddenly, he thrusts to deep and you yelp, pawing at his chest.

He is quick to pin your arms to the sides of your head, speeding up his thrusts. “You deserve a raise for how good this pussy is..” he grunts, hair sticking to his forehead.He lets go of your arms and grabs your legs, opening them up wider and getting reader to cum. He groans loudly as he cums deep inside you, and you squirt on his cock, coating his lower belly and thighs. He chuckles.

“Jesus Christ.” He slips out of you, walking to his discarded pants on the floor. “You earn another one hundred for that.” He says, placing a hundred dollar bill on your tummy.

[wtfaniii]

Sweet But Psycho

Summary: You are only nineteen years old but life has made you intelligent, life and your father.

Warning: slight smut, innuendo, blood and a somewhat toxic relationship, I haven't checked this yet so sorry for any spelling mistakes

The salesman x fem reader ¡!front man's daughter

A sigh escaped your lips as the handsome black-haired man in a suit pushed you onto the bed and positioned himself on top of you.

—You don't know how much I've been waiting for this —You said with a wide smile taking the man's face to pull him towards you and kiss him with need.

—I know —he replied arrogantly as he caressed your body torturously slow.

From the first time you saw this man at a meeting he had with your father, you knew you had to at least kiss him.

There was something about his personality that made him so attractive besides his physique, maybe it was that arrogant and mocking smile that he sometimes formed or that contemptuous look that he gave to everyone.

A gasp escaped your lips as he managed to strip of your clothes, however, you didn't want him to have all the power.

Being who you were, you didn't like to give up control, you were above him and you made that clear when skillfully turned around on the bed to make him lie beneath you.

—Well well... someone is having a hard time adapting to other roles —He mocked, tightening his hands on your hips, sure to leave a mark.

—I prefer to be on top and keep the pace —You said flirtatious.

You lowered your hands to him pants but just as your fingers reached for him belt buckle the door to room suddenly opened.

Your heart raced, and not in the way you would have wanted, when you saw your father open the door and make an expression of annoyance and embarrassment at the scene before him.

—Hi... —The two greeted at the same time, you with a nervous smile and he with a mocking expression.

Sure, your dear boyfriend was more than proud to fuck his boss's daughter.

—Both have five minutes to get dressed and get out of here, or I'll have to find a new recruiter for this afternoon —The front man warned and then closed the door again with a thud.

The man below you would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid of your father, the front man was far above him and although it fed his ego the idea of ​​having you in the palm of his hand he still wasn't willing to risk having a bullet in his head embedded by him.

—You heard him, sweetie —He sighed, gently pushing you away from him to get out of bed.

—Coward —You told him mockingly as you stood up.

You liked to provoke him, to make him angry so that the tension between you would be even greater, but in this case it wasn't like that, he wasn't ready to die.

—What I want to do to you will take me more than five minutes, love —He justified himself while adjusting his tie.

You sighed and both of got dressed again, when you saw yourself presentable you opened the door and right there was In-ho, with a look that would freeze anyone.

In-ho was against this relationship, the salesman was almost twenty-five years older than you, and he knew the kind of man he was, he didn't want him with you but seeing you so enthusiastic about him made him silence all his complaints.

He haven't seen you this happy since your mother died.

Life had treated you badly, your mother fell ill and died, your father was fired and left you with your grandmother for five months until he came back for you and brought you to this island.

At first you didn't want to be a part of this but you didn't want to leave your father alone in this duel either, you were also having a bad time and before you knew it you were already wearing a pink suit, a gun and a black mask with a quadrate printed on the front.

Before long you became addicted to this new life, In-ho almost instantly regretted having taken you there with him because he didn't take into account your vulnerable state of mind you were in, you became a completely different person and he regretted it every day.

—You have to get back to work —he said to the man in the suit, who nodded, bowed slightly, and left almost instantly —And you-

You quickly interrupted him with a wide smile.

—¿Can I go with him?

—No.

—¡Oh come on! I've been on this fucking island since I was twelve! —Your irritated screams didn't bother him at all, he was already used to it —I need to see ¡civilization! —You yelled at him furiously one last time as he walked calmly to the control room.

Even if he didn't let you go, you would run away anyway, he knew it, he had no way to control you without causing you harm because he would also easily tell all his guards to subdue you so couldn't leave here but he didn't want to go to those extremes with you, he still loved you with all his soul, you were the only bit of humanity and of his old life that he had left.

So he just grabbed his cell phone and called your sadistic boyfriend.

"She will go with you to the city, take care of her, if something happens to her you will return for your farewell"

The man at the phone cursed mentally, he knew that being fired was also synonymous with certain death, but he refrained from contradicting the frontman.

—Understood, sir.

He hung up the phone and leaned back in the boat seat where after a few minutes he saw you arrive with your characteristic smile and shiny teeth.

—¿Would you like this to be a casual date? —You asked, sitting next to him.

—I'd rather not, for now it's just business.

He didn't want to mix work with his private life but he didn't refuse every time you stole a kiss from him.

You alone accompanied him to every part of the city he went to recruit more trash to entertain your guests, you found it fun and even helped him with some objectives, however you always made sure that no one who had met you before saw you.

Although deep down you wanted to go to your grandmother's house, see your uncle Jun-ho and give them a hug but your father was very specific about those ideas, you don't have to do that, for them you no longer existed.

—¿Are you okay? —Your boyfriend asked cautiously.

He found it curious to see you pensive, silent and even depressed in a period of only ten minutes. He knew you to be quite extroverted and even impulsive, seeing this side of you sparked his interest.

—Yeah... we just have to recruit this last one and that's it, ¿right?

He raised an eyebrow but decided to ignore it for now and both continued walking through the train station.

—Yes, this is a famous ex-youtuber who lost and owes a lot of money, it will be the last one and we will go buy some things.

You nodded silently and when they found the target you stood a few steps away watching them play Ddakji, a malicious smile appeared on your lips every time he slapped the young man.

When he finally gave he the card you grabbed his arm and pulled him towards you to give a kiss on the cheek.

—¿What did I tell you about public displays of affection? —He said pretending to be upset but he just couldn't, sometimes you were hateful and annoying but it didn't matter, he could get used to that.

—If you complain I will do it more often —You threatened him playfully as you continued walking.

But you felt some glances on the two of you, on some occasions you looked surreptitiously and could confirm that two men were following you.

—Dissimulate, after shopping we will take the gentlemen to a more private place —He whispered in your ear and you nodded silently.

You thought that would be more fun than making homeless people choose between bread and a scratch card, you thought it was funny and a joke how people could be ambitious, they could have eaten that day but they preferred to gamble with luck.

—Idiots —You whispered rolling your eyes.

After done him little social experiment, you and the salesman hopped in a cab and headed away from civilization hoping those two men would still be following you.

They were very predictable and once got the chance you let your boyfriend beat those two until they were unconscious and badly injured.

—Nice way to release tension

He winked at you and straightened his jacket and tie.

[...]

—That's the man who's been looking for us for the last three years —He said as he looked indifferently at the man who was searching around in anguish.

You and him were on the roof of an abandoned building, still in the same alley where you kidnapped the other two who apparently worked for this man.

—A headache for your father —He said seriously.

—¿Should I shoot him? —When he turned to look at you, you already had the gun ready and pointing it at the head of the man who was still floors below you.

He shook his head and put his hand on your arm to get you to lower the gun.

—Not yet, I want to know what he wants, for now... ¿Would you like to go on a date with me and the two gentlemen we have tied up down there?

You smiled again and gave a small bow as he took your hand.

You were cruel, and he loved that about you, so he could share moments like this with you.

The poor screams and stifled pleas of these two men brought smiles to your boyfriend and to you, the adrenaline of the moment and the power over the lives of others made your body tingle, made you nauseous and at the same time made your heart race like crazy.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors, Minus one" was music to your ears and you couldn't help but jump slightly every time the man next to you pulled the trigger.

You loved every part of this man, yes, he was a sadist but he looked so attractive every time he acted this way that it made you wet.

—¿Can I play? —You asked with a fake pout as you rested your chin on him shoulder.

—Your father won't like that.

—¿And? ¿You're his dog to do whatever he says?

He tightened his lips and the attention of the two gagged and bound men fell on you with their eyes wide at what you had just said.

You liked to tease him but this time you did it at a less appropriate time.

—Repeat what you said —He said in a low, threatening voice.

—Awww... ¿did I hit a nerve? ¿You don't like people calling you... ¿dog?

In the blink of an eye he grabbed you by the neck and lifted you a few inches off the ground, the tips of your feet barely touching the surface.

—The frontman forbade me to kill you but... now I can say that one of these two men killed you inadvertently.

You gasped as the air began to catch in your neck, him firm grip excited you as much as it terrified you.

—Go ahead... —You spoke with little air —Prove that you are not his dog

He wanted so much to fuck you like that and kill you right now, you were desperate but also beautiful and he wasn't going to deny it, you had taken over his head and part of his heart.

He let go of you and you barely managed to stay standing, you gasped for air and when you looked up you saw the tip of the gun pointed directly at the face.

You laughed amusedly.

—Ouh... Looks like I really got on your nerves this time.

—Just apologize —He said seriously and with a sly smile —Come on, do it so we can finish this.

—And if not, ¿what? —You took a step forward to let the cold metal of the weapon touch your lips.

—Just do it, I don't want to break that pretty face of yours.

Once again you smiled and opened your mouth to allow the tip of the gun to enter.

With your eyes you asked him to pull the trigger.

He could have shot, he could have still told your father that one of those two killed you and gotten away with it, but he didn't.

Even with that cold, carefree look you kept on your face, he knew you were still a girl who had lost everything and hated her life, a poor girl who had formed that personality to pretend.

He knew it because you were just like him.

And he wasn't wrong, you really would have liked him to kill you right then and there but he took the gun from your mouth and shot one of the two men in the side of the head causing the other to gasp.

—Coward —You told him sternly and disappointed.

After that tense moment you remained silent until night fell, he asked you to return to the island but you didn't, you decided to follow him because you knew he would go see that man who caused so many problems, you deduced why he let one of those two strangers live to interrogate him.

You kept an appropriate distance, luckily for you the motel where him went to see that man was full of windows so you were like a sniper from the roof of another nearby building.

This time you accepted that you weren't doing it out of curiosity or personal benefit, you were doing it because cared about him.

You saw them talking and playing Russian roulette, it was him favorite game but this time it made you goosebumps on end for some strange reason.

You counted each empty shot and when you saw that there was only one left and it was your boyfriend's turn, your heart skipped a beat.

—If you do this, I'll kill you —you warned the air while keeping your hand on the gun, you were definitely going to intervene.

You saw that the man said something to your boyfriend, something that caused him to point the gun at himself to shoot himself one last time, but before doing so, you shot him hand.

The salesman groaned in pain and screamed, dropping the gun when he saw the hole in his hand.

—¡Damn bitch! —He shouted, turning his head towards the window where he saw you in the other building waving at him with a hand and a smile —¡¡¡You're seriously a fucking bitch!!!

You mouthed "I know" and blew him a kiss before running off to get him.

—¡¿What was that?! —Gi-hun said, taking the gun with the remaining bullet from the ground and looking towards the window, now there was no one.

—My fucking girlfriend —He muttered, looking at his bloody hand.

The door to the room suddenly opened and Jun-ho appeared with his gun raised so Gi-hun raised his gun as well.

—Police, ¡put hands up! —He demanded, looking at them randomly an the two raised their hands instinctively.

—Hi... ¿am I interrupting something? —You said entering the room with biggest gun that brought with you.

Until your gaze fell on the policeman, you cursed at the sight of your uncle.

He was just as surprised as you, he knew In-ho was behind all this but he didn't expect you to be too.

—It seems I have the advantage here so why don't you guys put down your weapons and we can talk like civilized people ¿does that sound okay? —You said with a closed-lip smile but your eyes remained fixed on Jun-ho.

—¡I just want him to take me to his owner! —Gi-hun demanded, pointing at your man in the seat, who was bandaging his hand with a handkerchief.

—I am him owner —You said arrogantly —I'm sorry, honey —apologized to him without lowering your gun or your defensive stance.

—Liar, you enjoyed doing it —He said through clenched teeth and annoying.

You winked and turned your attention back to your uncle but before could say another word you felt a strong blow to the head that knocked you unconscious.

—¡That bitch is crazy! —shouted the man they had previously tortured, still tied by the ankles and half naked, he had hit you with a fire extinguisher —¡She and his deranged boyfriend killed my friend! —He added, pointing at the black-haired man in a suit.

—¿Boyfriend? —Jun-ho asked quietly as he approached you to make sure you still had a pulse.

—I'm dead —the salesman murmured as he watched you lying unconscious on the floor.

If they didn't kill him, your father would.

[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.

[burningembers91]

The Baby Shower - The Salesman x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

Freak of Nature On Display A Game of Cat and Mouse Crime of Passion Rare Gunpowder and Lace Like a Dog Three Little Words

Synopsis: While attending your friend's baby shower, The Salesman can't help but think about what it would be like to have a family of his own. But how could he be a loving father, when the only person he's ever cared about is you?

He disliked social events, detested having to made idle conversation with people he didn’t have any interest in. The mindless small talk drove him to the brink of insanity, the idea of having to talk about cars, jobs, and how much people paid for their watches was enough to give him an aneurysm. He’d managed to avoid needless social interaction for most of his life, but now that he had you, necessity required he dip his toes into the world of dinner parties, social gatherings and idle chit chat.

As much as he loathed talking to anyone who wasn’t you, he loved you more, and he’d walked across broken glass if you told him to. “It’s only for a few hours,” you smiled, zipping up your form hugging dress. “I know you hate these things, but she is my bestfriend after all.” You knew how much he hated attending parties with you, and you felt bad for making him go. You told him that you didn’t mind if he stayed at home, but staying at home wasn’t an option for him. He needed to be close to you, a loyal dog sticking by his mistress. He couldn’t stand to be away from you, even for a minute, so he’d brave the party, just for you. Everything he did nowadays was all for you. “When we get back, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me,” you whispered, smirking at him slyly in the mirror.

He was instantly hard, the list of desires he had too long to play out in his head. You always let him take charge when you got home from a party, always allowed him to punish you for the mundane torture he’d endured surrounded by your friends. “You’ll regret saying that,” he smiled, coming to stand behind you, his hands trailing up your body to the delicate curve of your neck. He tightened his grip ever so slightly, a small moan of pleasure escaping you as his hand gently closed around your throat. “I’ve never regretted letting you punish me,” you whispered, you hand snaking behind you to gently grip his growing erection. You were locked in a stalemate, both you desperate to tease the other, to see who would break first.

“Why don’t you let me punish you now,” he growled into your ear, his teeth grazing the soft, sensitive skin of your earlobe. “I could let you attend the party with my handprints on your ass. Maybe I’ll make you walk around with no underwear on while I drip from that pretty little pussy of yours.” You were so close to relenting, to letting him have his way. But you didn’t have time to play now, you were already late. “You’ll just have to be patient,” you smiled sweetly, squeezing his aching bulge between your grasp a little tighter. He moaned into you, his face buried in your hair as your fingers worked him through his suit. Your touch was his drug, the one thing he craved more than anything in the world. “More,” he grunted, pushing himself further into your touch. His hips bucked against your hand; his eyes fixed on yours in the mirror as he chased his high. “Later,” you whispered, pulling your hand away. He groaned in frustration, his arousal evident through the fabric of his pants. “We need to get going,” you told him, grabbing your purse from its hook on the back of the bedroom door. “I can’t be late to my best friend’s baby shower.”

The party was just as dire as he’d expected, everyone laughing and chatting about the prospect of their friends’ becoming parents. He’d never felt paternal before, had never understood the fascination with bringing a child into the world. He did his duty, plastering a smile on his face, asking your friends about their jobs and their families. But then he noticed you, your hands proudly cupping your friends growing baby belly, the two of you lost in conversation. Something stirred within him, some carnal desire he’d never felt before.

He pictured you with a growing baby bump, your hands pressed to your lower back as you looked lovingly down at your belly. He imagined his hands cupping your bump protectively as you fell asleep each night, of placing soft, sweet kisses on your stretchmark covered stomach. You’d be a wonderful mother, so caring and kind. But what kind of father would he be? He wasn’t capable of loving anyone or anything other than you. He tried to push the thought from his mind, convincing himself it was just residual desire leftover from the moment in the bedroom. And yet the thoughts persisted. Thoughts of you bringing a baby home, of cradling the tiny life in your hands as you sat by the window. He was getting angry now, the incessant images of you caring for his baby weaving their way into the fibres of his brain. He couldn’t risk bringing a baby into the world, not when he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to love it.

That night, he was extra rough when he punished you. He forced you to your knees, fucking your throat with his aching, hard cock until tears streamed down your face. He bent you over the bed, spanking you until your skin turned red. He fucked you into the mattress, your face buried in the pillows as he took his frustration out on your tight, dripping core.

But after the punishment, when he’d returned to being your faithful little dog, the thoughts resumed. Thoughts of you growing his baby, thoughts of walks through the park with a stroller, of nighttime feeds and days out at soft play. The baby would be part of you both, your combined DNA. But he couldn’t choose what parts of him the baby inherited. Would they be as cold and callous as he was? Would they get kicks out of torturing and taking the lives of innocent people? Would they grow up to be just as evil as their father?

He didn’t sleep that night, his mind whirling as his thoughts consumed him. He stared down at you as you slept, your soft body pressed against his. He had no doubt you’d be a great mother.

But what kind of father would he be if he felt nothing for the life he helped create?

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || 𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠-𝐖𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ amidst studying in Korea and having an ordinary life, you fall in love with a wealthy man, but turns out he had too many secrets, for example, being married.

warnings_ age gap (not specified but reader is in uni), implied sex, cheating, fluff, angst, jeong-won is still tormented but it’s truly happy with reader, reader smokes, wants to be a teacher and is implied to be American, NO PROOFREAD YET

notes_ pls listen to angel of satisfaction is such a banger 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋♬⋆. Using the salesman tag bc we need to avoid the flop okay?

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 gong yoo

✰ Index (+ fics here)

୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ———୨ৎ───୨ৎ

In his arms, you felt safe.

With his kisses, you felt cherished.

The man who urgently smashed his lips with yours in the middle of the dance floor while music blasted from the speakers was the love of your life.

He couldn’t resist the temptation. Couldn’t miss the chance and needed to let you know he always loved you. That everything was true.

“Please, believe me…” he pleaded.

“Fuck you, Jeong-Won”

Frivolously, you leave the taste of poison on his lips. His hand tried to grab yours, but you slipped, leaving him.

Like you had already done before.

But it didn’t make it easier, because tears started falling down the first step out of the club.

And in the middle of the cold night, you slip into your coat and start a quiet walk towards home.

You wished you knew he was mourning a life he had before you.

…

[eight months ago]

Leaving your comfort zone was something you hated. But as soon as you grasped the change, you easily adapted to it.

For a couple of months, surviving all alone in South Korea seemed like it would never cease to feel like a struggle. But you were patient enough to make friends, move out of the dorms of university, and find a home in the wealthy godmother of yours who let you stay at an apartment she had.

Her kindness was so big that she even arranged a full remodeling project that lasted months.

And it was one of those weekends when you finished early your assignments and essays that a plan popped out. Working as a counselor assistant did little to support you financially but the aid from your home government was a good complement. Hence why you couldn’t refuse a night out with your friends; Jade, Ruby, and Seoun-mi.

“Can you pass me the highlighter?” Asks your blonde friend Ruby. It was Seoun-mi who passed her the shiny compact while rolling her eyes. “You already used it, Ruby”

“It’s not enough” You start laughing and Jade joins you.

“Don’t you girls think my dress is a little too much?” You ask pointing at the bright orange dress with scattered sequins hanging from your door. “Do you want to meet guys?”

“God no” you reply to Jade, shaking your head.

“Then wear black tights and some fitted boots” Ruby suggests, which comforts you enough to agree.

“The club we’re going to is not popular with foreigners or students. Boys won’t hit on us” Seoun-mi states, putting on her kneels.

“Good” you affirm. “I’m not in the mood for men”

…

Even with the lights out and neon flashes flying all over the place, your orange dress was making a statement. But in the company of your friends, you weren’t paying attention. A Nelly Furtado song from the 2000s was playing when Ruby complained she wanted some vodka. It was you who offered to ask for it.

And it was then when Han Jeong-Won was coming out of the restroom after smoking a cigarette. He had been deep into shit in that same place months ago, barely conscious and fighting a man. But now, he was at the club, along with the mere purpose of disconnecting from his life for a little while.

The crowd only swayed along to the music, Jeong-Won seated at the bar, but he couldn’t help but notice you were the only person actually dancing, it made him stare longer. Until he caught himself eyeing you up and down.

Definitely foreigner; lousy, careless but refined.

It was such a big coincidence that you walked towards him when the song was over. He heard you laughing at something your friends said in the distance. Fluid English coming out of your mouth.

“Hi! Any vodka or tequila?” You don’t look at the man beside you, his elbow almost touching your ribs. “Just vodka. Bottle or ?….”

“The bottle is fine” you confidently say, the bartender nods and disappears to get your wish.

“Fun Saturday?” The man beside you asked. You turned to eye him, surprised to hear his English was very good. And of course, his attractiveness didn’t pass unnoticed by you.

“I guess so…” you say nodding. “Hey, your English is really good”

“It was a requirement in university” his voice was deep, and even in the middle of the chaos of the club, you could hear him perfectly well. “I wasn’t very good at the beginning”

“Oh, so are you done with your career?” He nodded, drinking from his glass, which seemed to be something like a mojito. “Music engineer”

“You produce? Show me something you’ve done, I love music. There is no day without me playing music…” he chuckles and you realize you were flirting, almost making you freeze. “I do produce actually. But what about you?”

“I’m trying to get into the educational department. I really like to write. So University counselor or professor will be fine…” he nods, hiding his surprise and awe.

“That’s really nice…” his fingers twirl around the straw of his drink, a little smirk in the corner of his lips. “Maybe you can show me your writings one day…”

Your smile grows playful, accepting the fact that he is also flirting with you.

“Isn’t it that I’m a little too young for you?”

“We’re just talking”

“You’re right, my bad…” both of you laugh.

The bartender ruined the moment, he handed you the bottle and you handed back a bill. You offer the mystery man a last glance before turning to leave.

“Hey!” You turn to see him. “I didn’t get your name or anything…”

“If it’s meant to be, we’ll meet again!” you say smiling before disappearing into the crowd of people dancing.

Jeong-won remained there seated, smiling as he finished his drink. And at that moment he realized how much he had smiled in the short span of less than ten minutes.

…

The sound of your stomach growling made your steps hurry up, almost jogging down the street. You arrived at a burger shop, eager to order.

“Just no cheese and no onion please” the girl nods, handing you your receipt and your cup. “Thanks”

As your order awaits, you pick diet cherry vanilla coke from the soda fountain. You hear your number and after grabbing your bag, you are ready to eat outside because the weather is nice. Your receipt falls and when you’re about to pick it up, a big hand does it for you.

It’s him.

“So it was meant to be?….” He asks as soon as he notices it’s you as well. You smile briefly, before feeling your cheeks are heating up. “Apparently…”

He was wearing a sweatshirt and some jacket, jeans, and random sneakers. He was very handsome. With the help of the daylight, you can see he’s older than you. But he’s still gorgeous.

“Where are your friends?” You roll your eyes playfully. “They have classes today”

“And you don’t?” He had also picked up his order and looked tired. “No, I always avoid classes on Fridays or the weekends”

“Ah, smart girl” he sounds so perfect, too nice and calm.

“So, any plans? Or you wanted to eat alone?”

“Well, I planned to eat outside and then take the sub to a mall. I need some new clothes…” Still holding his bag or food, he nodded.

“I’ll propose you something…”

“Uh huh?” He nods again, chuckling.

“You eat with me inside and I take you to the mall” Finally your cheeks heat up completely and he notices.

“Dude, I don’t even know your name” both of you start laughing.

“Han Jeong-Won”

“I’m y/n”

Both of you smile and then you offer your hand for him to shake. Which he considers so occidental, but agrees to do so.

And once again, he noticed how much he was smiling and forgetting about some details of his life.

…

An hour and a half later, you know more about his job, but mostly he asked about you, which made you feel like he wasn’t trying to show off. Or he could be hiding something but he was very chill and kind. After finishing your food, both of you walk outside.

“Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me,” you say chuckling, abruptly stopping at the parking lot.

Jeong-won owned a grey Hennessey Venom F5 and was proudly standing beside the driver’s door.

“This is too much for me” he starts laughing.

“Stop trying to sound humble”

“But I am!” You reply also laughing. “I like some expensive stuff but mostly I find this very ostentatious”

“But it’s pretty, isn’t it?” his smirk makes you roll your eyes and look away, smiling.

“Oh, sure it is…” he walks over and opens the passenger seat for you, gentlemanly inviting you to sit.

“Only pretty girls get to sit here”

“That’s so tacky” Both of you start laughing again. But you finally take a seat and he closes the door.

All the way to the mall he showed you some of the music he produced. Jeong-Won was a serious man, but in the 24 hours you had met him, he was always able to offer you a smile or laugh. His phone continuously rang and you urged him to answer but he said it wasn’t important.

If only you had been able to see the screen…

…

Jeong-won followed you through the candle store, pretending to be attracted to some of the bright bottles with wax and odors but the truth was that he only wanted to listen to you.

“And I don’t like fish. Ahi tuna is fine but it’s mostly raw so…”

“You prefer meat?”

“If it was on me, I would gladly eat purely tofu. But I really like burgers and steaks” you admit giggling.

Your heart continuously beating made you accept you really liked the man beside you. He had made you feel so comfortable and welcome since you met him.

“Oh, I can cook you a steak with vegetables, it’s one of the few dishes I enjoy doing myself” Your cheeks blushed again at his statement. Was he inviting you to meet again?

“But you said you don’t eat at home” you object, deciding on a cardamom candle and going straight to pay.

“I can make exceptions” Once again you meet his smile and it makes you feel delusional. The intrusive thought of anticipating him as the one merging.

“And I will make tofu appetizers” It was on purpose your mocking tone. Just in case Jeong-won never meant to invite you on a date.

“Next Friday. My place. Casual dinner…” he offers, leaning on the counter as you pay your candle. “What do you say?”

“Alright,” his proud smile makes you roll your eyes at him before grabbing your bags and exiting the store.

You think it’s time to tell your friends about him.

…

“NO WAY! The hot dude we saw you talking to at the club?” Jade screams through the video call. You start laughing and nodding.

Everyone one of your friends is shocked.

“We met at the burger shop and then he took me to the mall and there he literally went shopping with me and at the end invited me to have dinner at his place next Friday” Everyone starts yelling and cheering, making it harder for you to believe that you pulled up a hot man like Han Jeong-won.

“Baby, we’re coming tomorrow and we won’t leave until you have an appointment made for your hair and a waxing,” Ruby tells you and it makes you burst laughing.

“Actually that would be nice. And please stay over, you can practically move in with me if you want”

“We can’t move in when you’re one step away from getting a boyfriend, unnie” says Seoun-mi, which makes everyone burst laughing again.

…

The house was ridiculously clean and big. Jeong-won kept his promise and cooked a steak with vegetables. Your tofu was also gone, he let you pick a glass of wine from the floor below and there he kissed you.

“Isn’t it that I’m a little too young for you?” You repeated what you said the night you met him at the club, Jeong-won chuckled, still holding your waist. “You are, but… I feel very comfortable when I’m with you”

You smile, feeling your heart flutter in love. He was so adorable and sweet, only a gentleman to you since you met him.

“I feel the same way about you” In the dark wine cellar of the house, you barely can see the features of Jeong-won, his hair looks even darker than it is and he had to slightly bend over to face you.

Which led to having a dinner full of teasing, leading to you kissing him in his lap upstairs with the TV on in the background.

“We can stop if you want…” he whispers in your mouth. But it’s too fucking late.

You can feel how hard he is, you can feel your panties are growing wet.

“It’s okay, I want you…” He throws his head back when you grind against him. And it’s oddly beautiful how you’d never considered a man so pretty like him.

“Keep moving like that…” he says barely able to talk properly. That makes you feel confident and sexy.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, darling…” you moan on his lips, knowing it’s over once he takes out his cock and puts aside your panties.

“Jeong-won!” you moan his name, repeating it like a mantra over and over again.

You can’t believe how good things are going. So good that you are blinded enough to miss the red flags.

…

Four months together. He didn’t know how it happened. Six months ago he married Noh In-ji just to please his ex-wife. His cheating was not in the plans. You weren’t meant to appear in his life.

Jeong-won never considered age gaps romantic. His parents had one and it didn’t go well, let alone the other problems he had to witness as a kid. In fact, he thought you were pretty but he was only being friendly when you ended up by his side that night at the club.

But he started to feel very comfortable as you talked to him. He didn’t feel the need to oppress his feelings as usual. He allowed himself to smile, laugh, and be talkative.

Jeong-won felt alive.

Whenever you were around he was able to forget about his ex-wife, the baby, his pain, and dealing with his difficult new wife.

Just when he was so close to falling for In-ji.

Your voice singing caught him in his inner thoughts and briefly eyed you taking pictures of the landscape as he drove through the empty highway.

Jeong-won returned his attention to the highly and smiled.

“You should autotune my voice, honey. I know I am no singer” you admit smirking at him before looking away.

“Actually you sound fine…” The small he offers you is sweet and makes you want to lean and kiss him deeply. But he’s driving you to a lake he loved to go to in his free time to fish and just pass the time.

“Bullshit. But I’ll take the compliment” he chuckles, showing you his right dimple from the view of his profile. “Whatever. Tell me about the lake”

“I used to go there a lot since I was a teenager. Whenever things got rough at home, I went there to… forget about it” his uncomfortable tone made you seize your smile. He told you about his parents and his harsh infancy. You couldn’t blame him.

“It’s different now. I go there with my boss, who’s also my friend. And now I’m taking you there… only good times now. I promise”

He also took In-ji to the lake once. Jeong-won desperately pleaded for the right moment to tell you the truth. He had two months left of marriage. His ex-wife still haunted him a little but he was comfortable after pushing her away. There was a lunatic after In-ji but since she didn’t want him to be nosy about it, he found more than comfort in you.

“We’re here!” You squeal excitedly, making him smile at the sight.

Once he parks the car, you get out to appreciate the view. Jeong-won has been there so many times that the only beauty he sees is you.

In sneakers, jeans, sweater, coat, and camera in hand. You look so ordinary, yet so perfect to his eyes. You were the woman he really wanted to call his partner.

That didn’t mean Jeong-won didn’t feel so terrible for lying to you. For also lying to In-ji and getting away with it.

“JEONG-WON! HURRY UP, HONEY!” You yell, noticing he got lost in his head. You wonder what was he thinking. But you soon forget as he gives you one of his cutest smiles.

He starts literally jogging towards you, making you laugh, urging you to run so he can catch you.

The adrenaline flows when he starts running behind you. All you can feel is peace and joy. The man that catches you in his arms is your boyfriend.

“Got you, sweetheart,” he says in your ear, making you blush as he spins you to lean and kiss you.

His lips were soft despite his rough appearance. Jeong-won in general was so sweet, touch deprived and you were the one who broke those barriers.

He’s all you never knew you wanted and someone you weren’t waiting for…

“I love you” you admit confidently. He smirks, tilting his head.

“Me too” he admits to his own surprise.

He knows there’s no way back.

…

Periwinkle was one of your least favorite colors. But you loved how a dress of that color fitted you with grey tights and heels, a grey coat covering you as well as you entered the fancy restaurant. Jeong-won insisted that you two had to celebrate your achievement of passing every midterm of the semester.

“I’ll get the squash blossom soup” you order after your boyfriend and once the waitress leaves, it’s just you and him.

“You always look pretty, but I really think you look lovely tonight, darling…” Your face burns and you shyly smile, hiding your face behind your glass of wine.

“Ah ah, don’t hide from me! I’m being serious” he says chuckling, trying to move the glass away. “It doesn’t match the necklace, but it’s okay”

“I don’t care. I love the necklace and I’ll wear it every single day. Even if it doesn’t match…”

He gifted you a Tiffany gold necklace with a heart pendant. You were embarrassed but enamored by it. He shushed your attempts to politely reject the gift by burying his face between your legs. It left you with no choice but to place the necklace around your neck and admire it in a nearby mirror as you rode him at your apartment.

Luckily Seoun-mi made you an appointment at a public hospital to get your birth control.

When you least expect it, you already finishing your squash blossom soup. Jeong-won is nearly done with his plate and both of you are laughing because he almost spilled the wine.

The solid proof of Jeong-won feeling head over heels for you is evident when all he can focus on is your face.

Although there are no wrinkles in your face yet, some appear around your eyes as you keep laughing. He smiles, ignoring all of his surroundings, miserably ignoring the approaching figure coming to the table.

Everything is perfect until you spot a beige coat, your laughs suddenly stopping as you look up to encounter a woman.

Fear starts creeping up as you notice how Jeong-won also stops smiling, only to lock his eyes with the woman before she turns her head to scan you.

She’s young, maybe a little older than you, like your boyfriend. But she’s very pretty and elegant. But her cold demeanor makes you uncomfortable, the feeling doesn’t abandon you as she looks away from you.

“You didn’t tell me you were having dinner out, sweetheart” she speaks to him in Korean, offering a cold and feigned smile.

You are no fool, quickly thinking the worst. Hoping it’s a mistake.

“In-ji…” he reveals the woman’s name and sounds almost like he’s begging. But you don’t know what.

“I’m sorry, What is happening?” you dare to ask, making both of them turn to look at you.

“I’m Han Jeong-Won’s wife”

Color leaves your face, your stomach awkwardly churns and your hands start to shake, getting on your nerves.

How did Jeong-won hide it so well?

Why? Why? Why? Why?

“Earlier, your phone call accidentally linked to the car I borrowed” the woman reveals, but nobody says anything.

But you know it’s time to go…

Embarrassment floods you, making you a mess of yourself. Your cheeks burn so bad that your face looks red as a beet, you can feel your heart racing and your hands keep shaking as much as you try to calm yourself.

You stand up from the table, hurrying to grab your coat and purse.

“Please, y/n…” you hear Jeong-won calling you, but you don’t even look at him.

“The least you can do is pay for my dinner and beg on your knees for forgiveness to your wife…” you spit out, unable to look at any of them or the nosy people having dinner in the place.

The unwanted attention makes you sick. Only worsening the moment.

The couple stares at you, noticing that even when you were walking away, it was obvious that you started crying and you tried to wipe the tears away.

In-ji almost felt bad for you. Despite looking young and careless, you seemed mature enough. She expected to argue, but she ended up surprised to see you only left and eyed her with evident apologies.

“I deserve an explanation,” she says once you’re finally out of their sight.

“Yeah, you do…” Jeong-won admits, sighing after handing his card to pay the check.

He would pay for your dinner but he would not beg for forgiveness to his wife.

“Why did you do this?” In-ji asks as both leave the restaurant.

She’s certainly jealous but hides it so well. And more than that, she is curious.

“When I’m with her, I don’t feel tormented. I can be myself with no restrains…” he says, looking tired, beat down by the situation, but he briefly smiled at the tons of memories he had made with you.

“Did you ever feel that way with me?” Suddenly In-ji felt nervous, but she had to know.

“I did” After some silence, Jeong-won adds “I was so close to falling for you, but you proved to me we could never trust each other completely”

“That’s not true”

“She picked you well and was right. I will never match…”

That breaks her heart. Knowing damn well what he meant.

Her eyes get teary but feels confident to throw the next question.

“Do you love her, Jeong-won?”

“I love her”

She nods, watching him walk away towards his car.

The ex-wife, the wife, and the girlfriend…

Get a fucking grip, man. Get your shit together, Jeong-won thought.

A disastrous marriage, a fake one, and a healthy relationship.

From three totally different relationships, only one had made him feel safe and comfortable.

It was yours and his name what he wanted to see and hear together.

He was the perfect boyfriend but a shit of a person. And of course, you didn’t deserve that.

You deserved his beggars. And so you would get them.

୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ———୨ৎ───୨ৎ

Part two or what?

taglist: @stargirl-mayaa @czarinera @dovediva @dreamersparacosm @girlythings111 @love2fangirl @migueloharassoulmate @fangirl4lifetime @wonallofme @otakusimp1

[he3ts]

— nam gyu,, oneshots

crawling towards the bunny, how far can a rockstar's love go? ( rockstar nam gyu x blind reader )

poison, one has one wound, which never closes. ( nam gyu x reader )

lose control, how much love in beautiful hollywood, before the sunrise. ( nam gyu x reader )

just a game, no one can hurt you like he can. ( nam gyu x reader )

never forever, the first love is the one that hurts the most. like the memory of you. ( nam gyu x reader )

— nam gyu,, series

( masterlist ) let the world burn, a ruined dancer and a drug addict who cannot see beyond his own eye. in summer, love blooms, which unfortunately ends with the arrival of autumn.

— the salesman,, series

thirty one days, a recruiter and an fbi agent. you are mutually obsessed with each other, what could go wrong? ( part one )

voodoo, he will never leave you, obsession has caught up with desire. ( part two )

— hwang in-ho / 001,, oneshots

god bless me, he'll only want you for one night anyway. ( hwang in-ho x reader )

MASTERLIST

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 9 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: He shows you a softer side of him. Until he doesn’t.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, smut, rough sex, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, knife, over-stimulation, bondage, degradation kink, dom/sub dynamics, daddy, age gap, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

"How old are you, actually?"

He raised a brow, but didn't yet look up from his newspaper. You could tell you had piqued his interest by the way his eyes crinkled into a smile. It even seemed genuine to a certain degree.

You sat beside him and watched him with a keen eye, not hiding that you were staring at him.

"Is there a reason why you want to know?"

You shook your head. "You won't tell me your name or anything else about you that matters. At least give me that."

He hummed softly. "I'm forty-five." He finally looked up from the paper and regarded you with mild amusement. "Is that a problem?"

You shook your head again. It indeed wasn't. You had long guessed that he was quite a bit older than you, but to you he didn't come off like a lecherous old man who was after young women to keep him young and moist.

He was simply...older.

Not old.

"No, I guess not."

He looked back down at the paper, while you kept shifting on the couch beside him restlessly.

He managed to successfully ignore your restlessness for a minute, before he sighed and set the paper down.

"I know I will regret this, but what is going on?"

"Have you been with many women before?"

The ridiculousness of the question didn't just surprise him. To your own ears, the question sounded even sillier spoken out loud. But you couldn't help it.

The question kept tormenting your mind and it had been doing so for days. You had to ask or you would go insane. Even more so than you already were.

You couldn't tell why the thought of him with someone else made you feel like you were in the worst humanly possible pain, but it did.

It made you feel like you were slowly suffocating under the weight of a thousand stones.

And how pointless was it?

It was in the past. You were the future, right?

Good God, what were you even thinking about?

"Are you jealous?"

He didn't even try to mask the amusement in his voice. For some reason that made everything even worse. Of course you were being fucking ridiculous.

Your face flushed a deep shade of crimson and you looked down at your hands. "I'm not jealous." You murmured.

Despite not even looking at him, you could sense the wide, unhinged grin that took possession of his face.

"You are." He said victoriously. "You're jealous over me."

You narrowed your eyes and tried to come up with something sharp and witty, but the truth was simply that.

You were jealous.

More so, your body stood in flames of wild, raging jealousy.

"Aw, come on. I was just teasing you." He tipped your chin up. "Don't pout."

You forced yourself to keep your eyes on him. His expression had softened somewhat, but there was still a hint of amusement and satisfaction in his eyes. You hated him.

Especially did you hate his eyes.

Even more so when they softened.

You hated everything about him. The way he moved and looked so effortlessly sexy when he did. The way he looked whenever he stood in the kitchen, flipping the pan around like a professional chef. You had once caught yourself staring at him when he tossed a grape in the air and tried to catch it with his mouth. He had failed miserably. At first it hit his cheek and then it landed on the ground, before it rolled under the fridge. Something rather inelegant, coming from such a dashing man.  The way he looked at the grape and then at you, looking caught in the act. The way his lips curved into that delicious smile. Almost sheepishly.

Almost innocent.

“It’s your fault. Your presence is distracting to me.”

Your heart ached when you realized it.

You didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. But you tried to. God, how hard you tried.

“Can you just answer the question?” You murmured.

He hummed and looked to the side in thought. “I’m not sure how many it were. I didn’t exactly keep count.”

Awful.

“Were all of them victims to your incomparable abduction skills?”

He smirked. Your relationship had come a long way. Now you were allowed to tease him, without having to expect a punishment in return.

Sometimes.

It depended on his mood. And by now, you had gotten pretty good at telling when he was in a good mood and when he was to be avoided and obeyed.

It was easier to be attentive when your health was at stake.

Or your life.

“No”, he mused with a strange sense of sincerity, “and also you came along willingly.”

You scoffed. “You’re even crazier than I thought. Or just fairly ignorant.”

He laughed. God, you hated when he laughed.

It was so easy to lose yourself in the sound of it.

“Whatever it was, you’re here now. And as for these other women…It doesn’t matter how many they were, none of them held any meaning to me.”

Your heart skipped a beat. But you did? You meant something to him?

You couldn’t ask him that. As much as you wanted, your lips couldn’t form those words. Your fear of being mocked or rejected was far too great. The thought of him making fun of you for so obviously falling in love with him, him, your tormentor, him, your bane, your curse, your horror. It  was terrifying to you.

He would never love you. He was incapable of having these kind of feelings. Of course, he had never said that. But you could tell. People like him had obsessions. No more. No less.

You were just something pretty for him, something to put on his shelf and look at with a satisfied smile. Something to use when he got bored or excited. And then you’d go on the shelf again. And by the time you became boring to him, by the time your beauty would begin to fade and signs of age and life would show on your face or the color of your hair, you’d be gone.

Gone like the wind or the ocean breeze. You’d be gone and he’d obsess over something else.

The thought made your heart ache with such fervor, it nearly made you cry, then and there. And what was the worst about it? The thought of him killing you, it didn’t hurt you half as much as the thought of him replacing you.

You had always known you had a weakness within you. Something that might accept when things got worse, something that refused to fight at some point and simply gave up. You had experienced it with your mother.

You just didn’t know how deep this weakness ran.

When he saw the distant look in your eyes, his amusement faded and was replaced by something softer. He frowned slightly and held out his hand to you.

“Come.” He murmured. “Come, sit on my lap.”

Reluctantly you took his hand and let him pull you on his lap. You straddled his thigh and faced him, but the expression on your face was still one of silent sadness.

He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, before he cupped your cheek in his palm. The softness. There was the softness again. You swallowed the lump in your throat.

You hated him the most when he was gentle.

“But you’re not like that.” He said quietly.

When your brows furrowed in a mixture of quiet disbelief and uncertainty, he shook his head and gently trailed his thumb down your cheek. His touch was so gentle, it made something in your chest ache. Your heart, most likely.

His eyes glowed in that soft brown and you felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He whispered. “I know that I’m deranged, sweet girl. I know I’m probably not what you ever anticipated for your life. But one thing about me is steadfast and true. I’m honest.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you inhaled a shaky breath. “So?” You murmured.

“So…” He murmured back as he gently placed his free on your hip to steady you. “I don’t think about anyone else. I don’t want anyone else.”

“Why?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

“Because, sweet girl”, he purred and leaned closer to brush a soft kiss along your cheek, “Because I say so.”

Your eyes slowly fell shut and you felt yourself lean into his embrace. It felt good to be held by him. It felt safe, which was ironic enough.

He slowly slid his fingertips under your shirt and up your spine. It was one of the best things about him. He never ran them up your waist. He always skipped your waist.

The word mouse was as dead as Latin in these halls.

And he always asked if you had eaten already and when you lied, he could tell.

Never before had you met someone so attentive. When he wasn’t angry with you or angry because of anything else, he was the perfect man.

The way he looked at you was enough to make you swoon. The way he touched you enough to make you shiver.

The way he kissed his way from your cheek down to your neck made you gasp every time. And even when he ravaged you, he somehow always made sure to check if you were still there. You never got the chance to detach and stare at the ceiling, stare at the wall, stare at the floor. He caught your gaze, tipped your chin up and made sure that you were there.

That you wanted to be there.

And you didn’t have to say when you didn’t. He caught on that, too.

And then he’d let you sleep.

Or read.

“Are you tired?” He whispered with a soft nip to your earlobe.

The sigh that came over your lips was involuntary. A part of your mind was still hung up on the women. The women who had been there before you.

Were they prettier? Probably.

Were they normal? Most likely.

Did they make him happy?

Was he ever happy?

Was he even able to be happy? Did deranged people get a happy ending? Or even a happy middle? Maybe a very happy start?

There was something dead inside of him. You couldn’t tell if it was his heart, his soul or something else. But it was there. Just like there was something dead inside of you.

But sometimes you asked yourself if it was really dead or if maybe, just maybe, it had simply been asleep up until then.

You nodded slowly. You were always tired. That was part of being depressed and he caught on that, as well.

“I could run you a bath, sweet girl.” He murmured against your skin as he slowly rubbed his palms against your bare back under your shirt. It made you shiver and only ever press closer to him. “Or I could cook something for you.”

You shook your head.

“Are you still sad?” He whispered in your ear.

You swallowed again and nodded. Were you ever not sad?

He hummed thoughtfully. “Go get daddy your favorite book.”

The way your heart skipped a beat was almost audible. It always caught you off-guard when he did that. To refer to himself as daddy was bad enough in the bedroom, but when he did it like that, just out of nowhere, it made your skin flush in embarrassment. Yet at the same time, your heart raced. He wasn’t the only one deranged.

“My favorite book?” You whispered, sounding more breathless than anticipated.

He nodded. “Your favorite book from the shelf.”

With a slow, deliberate movement you climbed off of his lap and slowly moved towards the book shelf. You felt his gaze burn into your back. As much as it made you shiver and shudder, it also had something comforting about it. The way he sat leaned back against the couch, one arm draped over it and his ankle resting on his knee. God, he was perfect.

You swallowed and your eyes slowly raked over the rows of books until they stopped on Jane Eyre. It wasn’t your favorite book in the world, but it gave you comfort. All Bronte-sisters did. Getting a glimpse of their mind always made you feel like you weren’t the only sad and complicated person in the world. There had been others before and there’d be more long after you were gone.

You slowly picked it up and made your way back to him. He took the book from you and patted his lap.

“Lay your head here.”

Your eye brows rose, but you didn’t protest. Instead you curled up on the couch and carefully rested your head on his thigh. Before you even fully settled down, he buried his fingers in your hair and gently threaded them through the length of it. You suppressed a quiet, contented sigh. And when you heard his soft voice as he began to read, so gentle and composed, it made your eyes snap shut.

“There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning, but since dinner the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so…”

You couldn’t even properly focus on his words. All you could think about were his hands in your hair, his soft voice and the warmth radiating off of him.

You lay like that, listening to the soft sounds of him reading Jane Eyre to you, until you felt like you might fall asleep any second. Which was exactly what you did.

It didn’t even take all too long.

There was a part of your mind that expected to wake up with a blade against your throat or Hell – not even wake up at all.

But you couldn’t help it. The trust came on its own. It was hard not to trust him when he was like that. Caring and gentle and concerned.

You had a dreamless sleep and by the time your eyes fluttered open, you felt better rested than you had in forever. You slowly blinked and tilted your head up to see where you were and what was going on. What you saw was him, the book tightly shut beside him and you found he was staring down at you. His expression was still soft and his hand still in your hair. You blinked slowly.

“How long did I sleep?” You murmured hoarsely.

He glanced down at his watch. “About an hour and a half.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Why?” He mused. “You needed it.”

“But wasn’t that uncomfortable?” You yawned softly and rubbed your eyes, something that made him smile.

“No, sweetness. You look endearing when you sleep. I could watch you all day.”

A soft flush crept up your cheeks and you averted your gaze. You felt as embarrassed as you felt in love.

You were sure by now. There was no point in lying to yourself. You were in love with him.

And you were certain, given enough time, he’d break your heart.

Or your bones.

Whatever came first.

The rest of the evening was just as peaceful. You sat at the kitchen table and watched as he cooked something you couldn’t even come close to pronouncing. When he still tried to teach you and you made a fool of yourself, he smiled in amusement and something akin to pride.

“You’ll learn it one day.”

He was so patient at times. And at other times…

You finished dinner and stood in the bathroom, brushing your teeth. It was such a normal thing. A normal Sunday. Brushing your teeth to go to bed, a silken nightgown kissing your skin while you did.

He spoiled you. You knew that. He brought home more and more and more clothes. One piece more beautiful than the other. And as much you always assumed you’d look like an idiot wearing them, because you just weren’t the kind of girl for silk and beautiful things, you ended up loving them all. It made you feel beautiful.

He made you feel beautiful.

You rinsed your mouth and washed your face, pat dried it with a fluffy towel and shot a last glance at yourself in the mirror. You looked nothing like the girl who had begged her mother to stop being so cruel. And at the same time, you looked just like her.

Like a girl playing dress-up, but her sad eyes stayed the same.

The faint mark on your cheek was still there, reminding you subtly of what he was capable of. Not even close to what he was supposedly capable of. You sighed and turned off the lights, before you quietly tiptoed through the dark hallway. You were already on your way to your bedroom, when you saw that his door stood slightly open. There was a faint light that illuminated through the hallway and you couldn’t help yourself. You stopped and stared at the door, unsure what to do. Should you go in? Or should you go to your own room and loose yourself in your thoughts?

But before you could think about it, the door opened and revealed his form in no more than his boxers. God, he was perfect.

You were certain you had never seen a more handsome man in your life. Even when he was angry and when you hated him. He was still so fucking perfect.

“Join me.” He purred. You knew what that meant. And even though he didn’t say it, you still knew. You had a choice. Even though he had made abundantly clear, he’d fuck you even when you didn’t feel like it (something that hadn’t happened so far), today you had the choice.

You could go to your own bed and sleep in peace. His soft voice revealed that.

Instead you slowly stepped forward until you stood in the middle of his bedroom. The red notebook on the bed caught your attention and immediately you felt a knot form in your stomach. The cruel reminder of the day he cut your hair and attempted to give you a new name. You swallowed and slowly looked up at him. He caught your gaze and his own landed on the book. Something in his eyes hardened briefly, but he quickly concealed it. He closed the door and went over to the bed, where he picked up the notebook and tossed it under the bed, where it landed with a soft thud.

He was still angry. You had snuck in his room and invaded his privacy.

You had disobeyed him.

He didn’t care that so many things had changed since then.

You had disobeyed him. And he hadn’t forgotten. He probably never would.

He forced a soft sigh over his lips, obviously trying to calm himself down.

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly. Probably a stupid thing to do, but to you, it felt right.

He shook his head. “Don’t.” His voice was firm and measured, as he stepped closer. The lion walk.

He stopped when his chest nearly touched yours and you were forced to look up at him.

The memory of the gentle reading and your nap in the living room wavered in your head. You were sure he was going to make you forget about it real soon.

As if on cue, he wrapped a hand around your throat and made you gasp. With a low growl, he leaned in and captured your lips in a rough kiss, forcing your mouth open and his tongue inside.

An involuntary moan slipped out of your mouth and against his. And when his hand squeezed tighter, you moaned again. He pushed you back until you hit the wall.

“Get on your fucking knees and crawl over to the bed.” He gritted out.

Your chest heaved rapidly. You couldn’t tell if he was still angry about the notebook or if his outburst had another reason. A more carnal one. Whatever it was, you slowly slid to your hands and knees and began to crawl over to the bed. By the time you reached it, he appeared behind you and put a hand on the back of your neck, pushing your face down against the mattress.

You gasped again and rolled your head over, so he wouldn’t smother you. To your surprise, he let you.

He used his free hand to push two of his fingers in your mouth, making you gag by the sudden intrusion and the intensity of it. This time, he didn’t use them to bruise your throat. Instead he pulled them out and swiftly slid them between your legs from behind.

You whimpered softly as he forced your legs apart and ran his fingers along your already damp panties.

“What is this?” He growled. “Didn’t I tell you not to fucking wear these at night?”

You swallowed. Uh-oh.

“I-“

“No.” He hissed out and spun you around, so that the back of your head landed on the mattress and you sat down on the floor. “Take them off.”

You swallowed and moved quickly to slide the panties off of you. You held them in your hand awkwardly, unsure what the hell to do. He looked so furious, it made you nervous.

He yanked them away from you. Then he used one hand to roughly grasp your chin and force your mouth open and the other one he used to force the soaked panties into your mouth.

You inhaled sharply and stared up at him with wide eyes. Of course it was degrading. And yet you felt yourself grow more and more wet.

“On your stomach.” He gritted out. “Now.”

You took a shaky breath and quickly scurried around to lay on your stomach.

“Good girl. You’re finally listening.”

He went over to the wardrobe and rummaged through it, until he found what he was looking for. His belt. Oh, you had a bad feeling yet again.

“P-please.” You gasped out, but it was muffled against the fabric in your mouth.

“Shut up.” He said sharply.

Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God-

You had a strange and unpleasant Deja-vu, thinking about your mother and her creative ways of punishment.

But he didn’t use the belt to hit you. Instead he used it to tie up your wrists. You nearly sighed in relief, but you knew better than to do that. You knew what that might bring.

So you simply lay still and let him tie you up like that.

You felt incredibly helpless in this position, but the thrill of it was strong enough to make you drip. You closed your eyes.

“You’re such a bad girl.” He murmured. “Always sneaking around, doing things you shouldn’t, huh? Is that how you’re trying to please me? With disobedience?” He scoffed. “You just never learn, do you?”

He crouched down before you and regarded you with a long, scrutinizing look. You almost expected him to slap you. But instead you witnessed how he slowly sucked on his fingers, the ones he had pushed in your mouth just a minute ago. The sight stirred something deep within you and you shifted on the bed.

“Bad girl needs to learn her lesson.” He purred.

Before you even knew it, he was already rubbing his fingers over your wetness and circling your clit in a way that made you moan. Again, he knew just where to touch you. A thought that filled you with as much jealousy as it did pleasure. But somehow, the jealousy always won.

“Does that feel good?” He murmured. You nodded eagerly, squirming and arching against his hand, desperately seeking the friction that would bring you to oblivion.

He hummed softly and kept moving his fingers, only ever picking up the pace. “Like that, baby? Do you like that, hm?”

You moaned again and buried your face in the pillow, not even caring about the piece of clothing in your mouth, until he sharply removed his hand. You let out a whine and raised your head just enough to see the satisfied smirk on his lips.

“You didn’t think I’d make it that easy, huh? Oh, you’re severely mistaken, princess.”

And just like that his hand was back, resuming the movement and having you writhe in a mixture of agony and pleasure.

“Please.” You muffled out again. You were more than ready to cum, your hips twitching treacherously. And he withdrew his hand again, a mock pout on his face.

“Sweet girl is so desperate for me to let her cum.” He hummed. “Be a good girl and beg daddy to let you cum.”

You swallowed thickly, which wasn’t too easy with your panties still in your mouth. “Please let me cum, daddy.”

The embarrassment was still there, your face still flushed, but you didn’t care one bit. You needed this, needed him.

“I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Please”, you begged again, “please let me cum, daddy.”

He smirked. “I don’t think you deserve that yet. First you’ll be a good girl for me.”

Your hands strained against the leather of the belt against your own will, but it didn’t help anything. You were still tied and helpless. So you simply nodded.

You licked your lips which had dried out, when he finally freed your mouth.

“Who are you?”

You slowly looked up at him. “Your girl.” You whispered.

He hummed in agreement. “What else are you?”

Your face flushed deeply when you thought about what he wanted to hear. “I…”

“Say it.” He said in a more demanding tone and grasped your chin in a bruising grip again.

“Your cumslut.” You said quietly, but it was barely audible. It seemed good enough for him, because he didn’t insist you repeated it.

“Good girl.” He whispered and gently ran his thumb over your lips. “Spread your legs for me, my good girl. I want to fuck you. Make space for daddy.”

Your face flushed even more, but you obeyed. You slowly parted your thighs, making space for him. You took a shaky breath when you felt him settle behind you on the bed, one hand grasping at your wrists, the other one pressed into the mattress next to your face, so he wouldn’t crush you under his weight.

You hadn’t even realized when he’d stripped off his boxers, until you felt the tip of his cock rub along your entrance. A needy whine came over your lips and you closed your eyes.

“Beg me for it, baby.” He whispered in your ear from behind. A shiver ran down your spine and you held back a moan, when he began to rub his cock over your core in a torturously slow movement. You were so wet and ready and yet he held himself back.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” You whispered, unable to open your eyes. You were so ashamed and embarrassed that it nearly choked the words silent on your tongue, but you still forced them out.

“Louder.”

You swallowed thickly. “Please.” You managed. “Please fuck me, daddy. Please, let me feel you.” You were surprised by how desperate you sounded.

Even more so by how desperate you felt.

“That’s my good girl.” In a swift movement, he thrusted forward and filled you to the brim, not giving you a moment to adjust to his size, before he began to fuck into you. You head fell forward and you released a breathless moan against the pillow.

It was a mixture of pleasure and pain, but the pain subsided quickly, when he began to hit the sweet spot inside of you as if he was desperate to make you cum as quickly as possible. He had never taken you from behind before and you had no idea how incredible it felt. Every thrust hit the right spot and it didn’t take you longer than a few seconds until you felt the need inside you build up intensely.

“Oh God.” You breathed out. “Oh God, please.”

He grunted in your ear, a sound that made you all the more aroused. The sound of his quick breaths and the way they hit your ear was almost too much. And when he bit down on your earlobe hard enough to make you cry out in pain, it was too much and you came.

You came with an intensity that made it impossible for you to stay quiet. You cried out in a way that sounded surprising to your own ears. You had never been much of a moaning girl, but that was too good. Too hard.

Too much.

The pleasure quickly shifted into over-stimulation when he didn’t stop thrusting into you, even after your walls clenched around him. He moaned again and you bit down on the pillow, your legs trembling furiously.

“Please.” You gasped out. “Please. Too much-“

“Good.” He growled and began to fuck into with even more intensity. You were close to crying, it felt almost painful, but at the same time you could tell you were almost getting there again.

“I beg you.” You cried out. “I’m begging you. Please.”

“Yes, beg me, my little cumslut.” He groaned in your ear as he kept moving furiously. “It won’t make me stop.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head and your hips twitched again, desperate to get away. You strained against the binds again, but he just held your wrists tighter. Until he released them and instead pushed two fingers in your mouth.

“Spit.” He hissed.

You moaned against him and tried to obey, but it was hard with someone thrusting his fingers in your mouth as if trying to hit the back of your throat. You spat down on them and coated them in your saliva, until you felt him pull them out and instead rub your clit with his slick fingers again.

You nearly screamed when he did and you felt the excitement burn up again, until you were almost ready to cum. But you were afraid, afraid that he’d keep going until you couldn’t take any more, until you’d start crying and even bleeding maybe.

“Please.” You cried out again, your voice breaking with every thrust.

“Shut up.” He hissed as he rubbed your clit in a way that made it impossible for you to shut up.

“What are you?”

“Your cumslut.” You cried out.

“My cumslut.” He gritted out again. He was so furious. So angry. And he was keen on taking it out on you. Before you knew it, his hand wrapped around your throat tightly again. “I’ll punish if you cum before I tell you to.”

Your eyes shot open and you nearly choked. You gasped for air. He wasn’t kidding. You knew he would. You tried your best not to, but it was near impossible.

“Please-“

Your body betrayed you. And you came. With his hand around your throat and a loud, shuddery gasp, you came.

Your walls clenched around him again, something that made him moan out and the sound only intensified the feeling inside of you.

When your body stopped trembling, his movements stilled and he pulled his hand away.

“You disobeyed. Stupid girl.”

“Please, I didn’t want-“

He pulled back roughly and stood up, standing beside the bed and staring down at you with wide, crazed eyes.

“Gun or knife. Choose.”

Oh God.

You felt the way the blood seemed to leave your face and your brain. You opened your mouth and closed it several times. Was he going to kill you? Was this the end?

Did he make you cum, just to kill you?

Had he only read to you, because this was your last day on earth?

When he said you meant something to him, was that a lie?

Were you just his to torment, his to get rid of?

You felt tears sting your eyes. You wanted to cry and beg and plead. You immediately missed the man he had been three hours ago. The man you fell in love with. The husband type of guy. The silly man, who didn’t catch the grape.

“Please.” You whispered and your voice cracked.

“If you don’t choose”, he gritted out, “I will.”

A tear rolled down your cheek and you rolled over just enough to face him fully. Suddenly you were more than thankful that he didn’t rip your pretty nightdress off when he began to fuck you. Dying naked sounded even more horrifying to you. Dying was bad enough. But naked?

“I-“

“Too late.” He bit out.

He rummaged through the wardrobe again and came back with a kitchen knife. He kept a fucking knife in his wardrobe?

You let out a horrified gasp and tried to back away against the wall, but it wasn’t easy. You struggled against the belt that kept your wrists tied up desperately, but it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

And suddenly you were sure.

This was the end of you.

The end of a miserable life with an even more miserable ending.

He slammed down the knife beside your head and rolled you onto your back.

You stared at him with wide eyes and wet lashes.

“Please.” You whispered again, against the sound of a choked sob. What could you say to convince him not to kill you? What could you do? Nothing. Nothing at all. You were done for.

This was it.

“Spread your legs.”

You swallowed thickly. He would really kill you, while he was inside you?

The thought brought even more tears to your eyes.

“Please. I-“

“Now.”

Against your better judgement, you obeyed. You slowly parted your legs again, letting him in. Your arms hurt terribly, with your weight on them and now his was added.

He picked up the knife and pressed the blade against your throat hard enough for you to feel it, but not enough to cut you. And you let out a sharp gasp, when he pushed forward and suddenly he was fucking you again.

“My good girl.” He murmured and let out a soft moan. “Oh, my good girl, you trust me, don’t you?”

He began to move faster and harder, causing you to moan, despite yourself. You were still crying. The feel of the cold blade against your skin was enough to make sure of it.

But the pleasure rolled over you in waves, despite your fear.

You released a sob and nodded.

“My good girl. My darling girl. My sweet girl.” He whispered and pressed the knife down slightly tighter, but still not enough to cut you.

His other hand wandered up and he pressed his fingers into your cheeks, enough to make you moan out again.

“Say it.” He growled.

“I’m your girl.” You whispered shakily.

“Again.”

He was growing closer, you could tell. His movements, once controlled, became more and more reckless and his moans grew louder.

“I- I’m your girl.” Your insides twitched.

“Fuck, yes, you are. My girl. My good girl.”

He gave a particularly hard thrust and you were sure. You would…

Oh, fuck.

You came in a way you never had before. You clenched around him yet again and moaned desperately, gasping for air and not caring a bit about the cold metal pressed against your throat.

Instead, you felt it seemed to intensify the feeling somehow.

You were so helpless.

The moment you came, you heard him moan louder than before and his body tensed. With a low groan, he came deep inside you, twitching and throbbing.

A moment later, he let the knife slip from his hand and it rolled off the bed with a loud click. His head dipped forward and he buried his face in your neck as he rode out his release. He opened his mouth and pressed a hot, wet kiss to your neck.

And suddenly you were sure.

He wouldn’t let you go and you were special.

But was that really a good thing?

“Oh God.” He breathed out when he slowly came down from his high. Your hips twitched in exhaustion and over-stimulation. You had never felt so worn-out and satisfied at the same time.

You didn’t even realize how you were still crying, until he pulled his head back to look at you. The fury was gone. He was much more calm now and the softness was back.

Just like that.

His brows furrowed and he gently cupped your face in his hands.

“Did I hurt you?” He whispered.

Your eyes fell shut and you nodded. You sniffled softly.

His head fell forward aagain nd he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead. Then your nose, and then your cheek. Kissing away your tears. A moment later, you felt the salt on your lips when he brushed his over them, kissing you softly.

“I would never kill you. You know that, right?”

You swallowed thickly. Just a minute earlier you had been sure he would stab you to death.

But you forced yourself to nod.

“Good.” He whispered. “Because I would never kill you, my sweet, darling girl.”

He smiled and leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“At least not unless you gave me a reason to.”

___________________________________________________

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If I forgot anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it!

Author's note: Sorry guys, his insanity won over this one. But I'm positive he'll show us another side of him in the future!

[gs29]

Ddakji, Giggles, and Family

Squid Game Master list

The evening was peaceful in the small but cozy apartment where Gong Yoo and his wife, Y/n, had created a little home. Their baby, a bundle of giggles and chubby cheeks, was sprawled out on the living room rug, happily babbling to himself. The room was filled with soft lights, and there was a sense of warmth that hadn't always been there before, but now, with the family complete, it felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

Gong Yoo, now in a much happier chapter of his life, was crouched on the floor beside their baby, trying to show him how to play a game he had once known all too well: ddakji. He had a folded square of colorful paper in his hand, demonstrating the snap motion as he showed his little one.

"Like this, buddy," he said softly, his deep voice warm with affection. "You just slam it down like this."

Their baby giggled and reached for the ddakji, his tiny hands clumsily grabbing it. Gong Yoo smiled fondly, his heart swelling with love as he watched his son’s innocent attempt.

Beside them, Y/n watched the scene unfold, an amused smile tugging at her lips. The guards—who now served as the family's quirky “uncles”—were sitting off to the side, all dressed in their signature green tracksuits. Though their past was filled with tension, now they were just a group of goofy, overly excited men trying their best to be good role models for the baby.

"Okay, let's see what you've got," one of the guards, now wearing a pair of oversized sunglasses indoors, said with mock seriousness. "Show us your skills."

The baby, still holding onto the ddakji, tried to bash it onto the floor in an attempt to mimic his father, but instead, the square just fluttered weakly to the side, landing with a soft thud. The room fell silent for a moment, then erupted in laughter.

Gong Yoo shook his head, chuckling. "Not quite, kid. But you’ll get it. We all start somewhere."

Another guard, more reserved but equally excited, leaned in closer. "Let me try. Maybe it’s the technique!"

He took the ddakji from the baby’s hand, trying to make an exaggerated motion with it. But just as he flicked his wrist, the paper square flew backward and landed on the kitchen counter.

"Oops! Well, I guess we’re not all born with the talent," he said, feigning disappointment, causing another round of laughter to fill the room.

"Y/n, help us out!" Gong Yoo called to his wife, as the guards started debating who had the worst ddakji skills.

Y/n grinned, stepping forward, and effortlessly demonstrated the game, slamming the paper with precision as it snapped perfectly.

"You guys just need more practice," she said, giving Gong Yoo a playful look. "Not everyone can be born a natural like me."

"Hey, you can't just show us up like that!" one of the guards exclaimed.

"Yeah, you’ve gotta show some mercy!" another added, pretending to look offended.

Gong Yoo watched with amusement, his arm casually draped around his wife’s waist as their baby clapped, his little hands making delighted noises. It was impossible not to laugh at the scene—guards, who were once so serious and intimidating, now reduced to playing silly games for the sake of the baby.

As the evening wore on, Gong Yoo scooped up their little one and held him high in the air, making airplane sounds as he zoomed him around the living room. The baby’s laughter was contagious, and even the guards couldn’t help but join in.

“Guess we’ve got our hands full with this little one, huh?” Gong Yoo said, his eyes glinting with pride as he looked at his family.

“Absolutely,” Y/n agreed, her heart full. “But it’s the best kind of full.”

And as their baby continued to laugh and the guards tried (and failed) to teach him how to play ddakji, the room was alive with joy. Gong Yoo leaned down to kiss his wife’s temple, whispering, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

The laughter, the warmth, and the love filled every corner of the room, creating a new chapter of their story—one that had nothing to do with games, danger, or survival. This was a game of love, and in this one, they were all winners.

[eddielove]

To the moon and back 🎀